#anyways we finally finished watching rings of power

[no-thanks-kindly-fuck-off]

Rings of power spoilers ahead

I just... maybe I didn't get the whole thing

Maybe I got it wrong? Idk

And I get that its poetic and all, that in the need to hunt sauron galadriel ended up saving him.

But ur telling me that if she didn't jump out of the boat. If she accepted her "fate" and went to her little elven heaven place thingie, sauron would've just died?

Would he have drowned? Or stayed stranded at sea???

Thats just so increadibly lame

Just, the big sauron guy would've just drowned if a girlboss elf didn't want to hunt him down?

Anyways, I'm not one of the shippers I'm sorry I see where yall r coming from but just... I don't feel particularly strong about it.

[athena-studios]

ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

treasure.

Simon Riley + preteen!daughter

tw: none(?)

a/n: im basically writing what i wanna read. honorary mention to @chaosandmarigolds for giving a bit o' help:) pretty long, don't know how many words but probably around 1k?

this idea has been in my head for AGES now, so glad i finally wrote it💗

Simon's girlfriend died. the 141 knew that. his girlfriend died that night along with the rest of his family. except for his one singular gem that he treasures the most. you, his daughter that the killers that night did not see nor hear because you were at the neighbor's house. that was when you were 5 years old, since then, Simon has done everything in his power to protect you. even as far as not telling anyone but Laswell about you.

you're now 12 years old. having gone through alot already, you're more mature and sassy than most of your peers. which leads you to this situation...

you were on the couch with your laptop open when you hear a knock. you walk to the door and open it to be greeted with three bulky men, one looking seemingly older than the other two.

the one on the middle has a...Fishers hat? he also has a beard, which is, what you assume, makes him appear older. "this dude could be a grandpa..." you thought.

the one to your left has a weird mohawk. yeah, thats all you can say about him. the one on the other side looks more tolerable, but his cap does wanna make you laugh your ass in front of him for it.

"Hi, who are you?" the grandp— the one in the middle asks. "I'm sorry, shouldn't i be asking you that? there are three, large, bulky men on my doorstep. none of which who are familiar to me." you replied, in your sassy voice, ofcourse.

your dad told you not to talk to strangers, they're strangers, aren't they?

"sorry—I'm Johnny, but i prefer to be called soap. this is John and Kyle. now can we know what yer name is, bonnie?" Johnny speaks up. you scoff. "fine. its y/n. y/n riley. that's all I'm telling you. and what the hell kinda name is soap?"

at that, the three of them glance at eachother in both shock and confusion. "what?" you ask. "your last name's Riley?" Gaz asks. "yeah, what about it?" you cross your arms, getting slightly defensive.

behind their back, you see your dad's truck pull up the driveway, the three men in front of you also noticing. you speed-walk to your dad and point to the three men. "Dad, these guys are tryin' to kidnap me." you say nonchalantly. he looks behind you and sees his captain and his two sergeants. "honey, they weren't tryna kidnap you. those guys are my teammates." he says as he walks to the trunk of the car and hands you two grocery bags. "now, bring these inside and I'll talk to 'em. 'kay?" he pats you head as you nod, walking back to the house.

"so, simon. when were ya gon' tell us ye got a daughter?" soap's scottish accent rings out. they glance at simon's balaclava-less face, because they don't usually see him without that damn balaclava, but also because they await a response from him. "to keep her safe...only Laswell knows abou' her. she's the only thing i have left. my treasure." simon clears his throat to ease the silence. "so, why are you guys 'ere anyway?" simon asks.

"i actually came here to ask for advice, and then i saw soap already standing at your door, saying something about a teatime catch-up? but anyway, he called price over, faking that your pipe was broken. and when he came up, we knocked on your door and y/n answered it." as gaz finishes his explanation, you walk back out the door. "so...are you all gonna come in or not? because i didn't stop binge watching heartstopper on netflix for nothing." you say as you chew on a french fry Simon had got for you, per your request.

they all walk in, and take a seat on the couch, Simon quickly preparing drinks for them. as Simon takes a seat next to you, Price speaks up. "so y/n, how old are you?"

"I'm 12." you answer blatantly. "y/n, be nice." your dad whispers to you. "you got any hobbies?" Soap tries to make conversation.

you playfully glare at your dad before answering soap. "i like to play the guitar, i like to paint, and crochet sometimes." you answer again, trying to put a less boring tone to your voice.

it goes like this for a few minutes, everyone just exchanging laughs and conversation. maybe they're not so bad after all...

[skyward-floored]

More oc Link (Lost) time >:)

The final showdown between him and Zelda... though technically this is like the second stage of the “boss fight” that would occur. I just didn’t want to write that part heh. You can read the first time Link and Zelda fight here, and also when Zelda first learns Link is corrupted here, if you want some added context 👍

————————————————————

“We’ve finished the barrier Zelda, he won’t be getting out of here!”

“Good job,” Zelda breathed, catching her breath as she watched Link try to free himself from the rope he’d been caught in. She coughed, wiping some blood off her arm, then breathed in, straightening back up. “Thank you so much everyone.”

“No problem princess, we got this!”

“Worry about your crazy-eyed boyfriend.”

“Go save Link!”

Zelda nodded, and turned back to the fight. She’d managed to lure Link into the temple where she’d first fought him all those weeks ago, and while they fought, the sages had enacted a barrier around the entire thing. One Link wouldn’t be able to escape from, and, if everything went according to plan... hopefully sap his strength.

Now all that was left was to do her part.

Link finally freed himself from the rope, and leapt at her, eyes blazing. Zelda dodged, nimbly leaping away, and they went back to exchanging blows, swords ringing.

Link was as fierce as ever, showing no mercy in any of his strikes, but Zelda had grown stronger on her journey, both in physical strength and magic. She matched him more ably than she ever had before, striking hard and easily meeting his blows.

Zelda didn’t use her magic yet, saving her strength. But she didn’t pull any punches with her sword attacks, occasionally switching weapons to press an advantage.

Link jumped and Zelda dodged, Zelda lunged and Link met her blade, and the two continued their fight, striking and dodging at each other so fluidly it was almost as if they were dancing.

But finally Link stumbled, barely dodging her attack when she charged at him, his chest heaving for breath. Zelda hit her sword against his shield, once, twice, and then a third time, but Link didn’t try to knock it back at her like he had the other times she’d tried this, merely taking her hits.

He was growing weaker.

The magic barrier was working.

Zelda landed a kick to his side, and Link half-fell half-jumped backwards, glaring at her. He raised his sword to attack again, but abruptly fell to a knee, a pained wheeze escaping him.

Zelda immediately began to draw on every bit of magic she had, focusing on charging and building her power. Her heart thudded in her throat as she built it, and Link looked at her and bared his teeth.

This was her only chance, she knew she wouldn’t get another.

And she was ready for him.

Link lunged at her with a howl, but Zelda ran forward to meet him, ducking under his attack and slamming her hands against Link’s chest.

A burst of light exploded around them, and Link gasped as they fell to the ground, Zelda keeping her hands pressed to him. She channeled her power into Link, focusing her light on him more intently, and a cry that was both angry and pained came from him.

Black particles suddenly began leeching off of him, and a shriek tore its way out of Link’s throat, his hands clawing uselessly at her arms.

Zelda kept pushing her light into him anyway, ignoring the scratches and the way his cries pierced her heart. She knew she was hurting him, knew she was inflicting unimaginable pain, but she kept pushing anyway, blasting the darkness away, tears dripping down her cheeks.

Link was practically writhing now, doing everything he could to get himself away from her. His cries had turned from anger to fear, pain still the core of every one, and Zelda tried to ignore them as she focused on her magic.

It was hard to ignore his face, though. Something dark was dripping from his nose, his mouth, and his eyes showed nothing but terror as darkness dripped down his face like tears.

Zelda shut her own eyes against the sight, and she gave a final push of her magic, the entire room lighting up with it.

The powerful hum in her ears mixed with Link’s gut-wrenching scream, and for a moment, something under Zelda’s hands resonated. Weak and beaten, trapped and worn by darkness... but there.

Link.

Zelda reached out and touched it, and Link let out an animalistic shriek, worse then any of the screams he’d let out so far, a noise that Zelda knew would haunt her the rest of her life. The entire room lit up with her power, and Zelda was blinded, vision going gold as a melodic hum rang in her ears.

Then it was over.

The light faded, and Zelda heaved in a gasp, her head spinning as her vision darkened at the edges. She nearly fell over, barely catching herself with a shaking arm, and trembled as her body threatened to faint. She’d used every bit of magic she had, and her insides felt hollow, drained of strength.

But she couldn’t pass out. Not yet.

She had to know if it worked.

Zelda sucked in a breath and looked down at Link, motionless below her, the dark markings gone from his face. Her whole body shook as she shifted herself around his limp form, then lifted him up slightly, resting a trembling hand on his cheek.

“Link,” she whispered, brushing some hair from his face. “Link, can you hear me?”

He lay unmoving in her arms, eyes closed as blood trickled from his nose.

“Link?” Zelda begged.

He didn’t move.

Panic began to grip Zelda, more powerful than any exhaustion or pain, and she stared at Link, her hands shaking. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t reacting, she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing or not, he was— she’d been wrong.

Her light couldn’t save Link.

All it could do was destroy darkness, and it had done that, but Link... Link had gone with it.

“Please, Link, wake up, I can’t... I can’t do this without you,” Zelda said shakily, holding him tighter. “Please...”

Zelda’s vision blurred with tears when he remained still, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Link’s.

“Please,” she choked out.

A tear fell on his face, mixing with the blood, and Zelda clutched at him, sobbing into his chest.

The sages were quiet as she cried, even the most boisterous silenced for once. Zelda’s sobs echoed quietly through the room, and she was so lost in her grief and exhaustion that she almost missed it the first time it happened.

Link’s chest moved.

Zelda froze, then gasped, jerking backwards with hope roaring to life in her heart again.

His chest had moved.

Zelda watched with bated breath, waiting to see if she’d merely imagined it, and felt her heart speed as she saw Link’s chest raise and lower again. His brow furrowed, eyes moving under their lids, and Zelda held her breath as a faint noise came from his lips.

His expression creased, and then her hero’s eyes cracked open, just barely.

And when Zelda saw they were back to their normal pale blue again, she nearly sobbed all over again.

“Zelda..?” Link croaked up at her, voice broken and weak, and she nodded, lip trembling as she smiled.

“It’s me. I’m here.”

He looked at her, face exhausted and gaunt, and then his eyes slid closed again, but not before Zelda saw the relief that shone in them. She brushed a hand across his cheek as a tear leaked from the corner of his eye, and a shuddering exhale escaped him.

His next breath broke into a sob, and Zelda embraced him, pulling him close and letting him press his face against her shoulder.

He clutched back at her, shaking in her hold, and Zelda’s sobs soon joined his, both of them crying into each other’s arms.

“It’s over, Link,” she whispered, tears trailing down her own cheeks. “You’re free. You’re out.”

She heard a distant cheer from one of the sages, but all Zelda was focused on was Link, his tears mixing with her own as he broke in her arms, free of darkness at last.

“It’s finally over.”

[bengiyo]

The Sign Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

It's been too long, so I barely remember where we are. We left at Tharn somehow maybe saving Phaya and getting stuck in a cave to maybe say goodbye because Chalothorn threatened him or whatever. Chart got caught for being undercover. The rest of the gang was lost in the woods. Anyway, let's finish this.

Wait, how are they successfully tracking anyone? I thought there was no phone service.

Oh lord don't start death flagging with promises about rings.

Damn, I feel bad for Chart. That final kick delivery was actually pretty good.

Bestie said they didn't need rope to get them out of the hole. The power of the Warrior's Bond and Yai's arms was enough.

I watch too much American action. The bullet stuff is giving recent Fast films.

Well, there goes Khem.

Why would they let Tharn run after them alone? He literally loses every fight.

Mhmm, see, Chalothorn had to intervene.

Montree still being afraid of Tharn came across clearly.

Damn, y'all ain't even shower before going back home?

Here we go. One last look at Babe's waistline before it ends.

Oof, the only thing Tharn responded to was an admission of his love.

Finally, 🍑

Oh, I liked that shot of the water leaking through the bed to show that Tharn was gone.

I feel like the grandma has always known more than she let on.

Did we really repeat the exact same death scenario? Chalothorn, you really suck at this. The circle remains unbroken.

I know Phaya's doctors have got to be frustrated that he keeps drowning.

Is Dao in France to cut down on filming schedule conflicts?

I love when dramas show the passage of time with facial hair.

So... Chalothorn just...got over it off screen?

Oh, a second season tag and Saint cameo. I guess?

Final Verdict: 5.5, Great Gowns, Beautiful Gowns. Overall, I just don't think the elements of this show ever really came together. I think the first two episodes of training and mythology teasers, along with the Lieutenant Tam mystery, made me expect these elements to circle and eventually converge in a more cohesive way. I also feel like some of the side stuff didn't really work. I thought some of the mythology about the Naga and Garuda was really interesting, but I didn't exactly feel the cycle they were stuck in playing out in this drama. I'm also hugely annoyed about the core angst evaporating off screen. So, in the end, I'll mostly remember it as copaganda.

That being said, I thought the cast chemistry was solid, and I really liked the execution and use of the CGI. I like that IdolFactory keeps trying more things, but I do think we need to get stronger script writers and editors in the room with a stronger say on the planning front.

[megistusdiary]

the idea of soft dom tohma fucking you after you have a long day to make you “forget all about it” and overstimulating you until you cant think and you’re js like crying and he has you suck on his fingers to shut you up because “i know you can take it, pretty baby.. just let me make you feel good” makes my mind go 💥💥💥

i am so tired rn. i just spent the entire day in class, doing chemistry homework, reports, busting out a bio report, and trying to do skincare and take breaks 🚶‍♀️

i finally finished my homework for the night, but i still have so much to do >:[

i am tired, but i wanted to write a little something while i finish my tea before i head to bed ♡♡♡ also so sorry this has been sitting in my box forever. my box is full of asks right now, and i feel so bad that i can't get to them :(

anyways, i could use some of this right now, so let's roll ✨️ sorry i am talking so much

warnings: soft-dom!thoma and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

soft thoma, praise, fingers in yo mouth‼️, overstim, mentions of oral, condom usage 👍, a bit of fluff at the end

your hands feebly gripped onto thoma's shoulders, pulling at the sweater still covering his form. his hair was pulled from its usual ponytail, draped over his shoulders and tickling your skin when he leaned towards you.

your thighs trembled around his waist as he rutted into you, keeping his thrusts slow and deep, feeling you arch up into him.

when he saw you trudge into the house, dumping your bag onto the floor and laying your head on the table, he immediately contrived a plan to make you forget all about your bad day.

and oh, by the archons, was he good at that.

he drew you a bath, seemingly innocent, cooking you one of your favorite meals and even letting you pick dessert.

the second you finished washing dishes, he kissed your cheek, taking the plates away and asking you to wait for him in the bedroom.

no more than fifteen minutes later, he was in between your legs, tongue flattening across your pussy and toying with your clit.

by the time he got to actually fucking you, you'd come undone twice from his fingers and mouth, hands tugging his hair right out of its tie. you weren't sure if you could continue, squirming beneath him and trying to get his attention.

he purposefully angled his hips to help you chase your high, hitting deep with deliberate thrusts in search for your g-spot.

he heard you mumbling something about it being 'too much' or how you were 'sensitive.' but thoma knew how much you needed to destress. you always had your mind full of work and school, too busy to eat and sleep at times. it was good for you to have a blank mind for once, feeling nothing but pleasure from thoma.

thoma slid his fingers into your mouth once he decided he wanted you to relax a bit, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "shh, sweetheart. i know, you've had such a long day. let me do this for you, hm?" he pressed his fingers onto your tongue, hearing you whine around the digits. "such a good girl..." he smiled, moving his hips faster, pressing his pelvis to yours.

the small patch of blonde hair at his front rubbed just right on your clit, causing you to shake against his body, feeling too many sensations at once as he rutted his hips into your sweet spot.

"there we are," thoma hummed, hearing you gasp out when he moved his hips in circular motions, stimulating your g-spot so perfectly. thoma watched your eyes go glassy, tears building up as your oncoming high did the same, making you twitch and ball your fists into his shirt. "so good for me."

there were no more protests about your work, no more worries about rude customers or peers, no stress for tomorrow, only pure bliss on your mind as you finally felt your third orgasm wash over you.

you felt absolutely limp as thoma fucked you through the powerful waves, groaning at the white ring forming around the base of his cock. this sent him hurdling into his own orgasm unexpectedly as you convulsed around him. he hunched over, removing his fingers from your mouth and coming hard.

"so good, so good to me." thoma's voice felt distant and fuzzy as you laid on the bed, feeling completely slack and blissed out.

he flopped over next to you, slowly pulling out and tying up the condom to throw away.

"feeling better?" thoma asked as you slowly came back down to reality. you smiled softly up at him, gesturing for him to join you on the bed and curl up in your arms.

"thank you." you whispered, feeling sleepy and warm as he hummed, stroking your back, allowing you to fall asleep comfortably in his arms.

[teddy-bear-baby]

Their Deadly Flower - Five

Pairings: Ghost X GN!Reader, König X GN!Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of violence

A/N: I’m so sorry this is so late. I have the memory of goldfish I swear. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Prolog - Chapt. 1 - Chapt. 2 - Chapt. 3 - Chapt. 4 - Here - Chapt. 6

      “I refuse to just leave Iris behind.” Ghost's voice is loud and authoritative, nearly yelling at Price.

     “Consider it an order then. There’s nothing we can do to help now.” Price’s face is a cross between hurt and anger as his usually calm and cool demeanor slips.

     Soap’s voice is weak and broken. “Please, not again.” He makes no attempt to hide his devastation as he pleads with Price.

     It was no one’s fault and they all knew that. Not 141 nor KorTac. The mission hadn’t gone as planned. They had been caught off guard on what was meant to be a stealth mission. The building went on high alert. Everyone inside scrambled about readying themselves for battle. The order was given to take out the power and disorient the enemy to give themselves the upper hand. And so they did. It was a solid plan and all was going well until they were separated by oncoming forces.

    Ghost and Soap had watched it happen from a room across the hall. In the midst of a tussle, Iris’ helmet and NVGs had been knocked off. The fight that ensued was over quickly with Iris standing over the opposition’s lifeless body. Before they could reach Iris, they were swept into combat once again. When they finished with the onslaught of enemies, Iris was gone. They looked for a while before Price told them it was time to get out. The enemy had backup on the way and they needed to vacate the premises. They’d waited and watched from a hill a ways away. All of them with binoculars pressed to their faces. They watched as the backup troops entered the building.

     Everyone’s hearts dropped when they heard shots ring out a few moments later. None of them said a word or moved. They held their breath for what felt like hours before Price finally spoke.

     “König, sniper.” He gestures for the large man to take up Iris’ post as the sniper. “With no one else in the building, they’ll be making their move to transport Ronald soon. As soon as you see him, take the shot.” A heavy sigh leaves Price’s mouth. “The rest of you should be ready for a firefight.” With his final order given everyone moved into position, mentally baring themselves for the slaughter they were about to cause.

      They waited in tense silence for a little less than an hour before the side door finally opened and out stepped the man they’d been looking for. König readied himself to pull the trigger but hesitated.

      Price pulled away his binoculars for a brief moment. “What are you waiting for? Take the shot König.” Price watched as König shook his head lightly, still peering through the scope.

     “Not my shot to take Captain.” König pulled away from the scope and nodded for Price to look down at the side door

      Everyone’s eyes shot over at the small gesture just as another small figure exited the door holding what appeared to be a pistol to the back of Ronald’s head. All rushing to lift their binoculars back to their faces, they watch as the person ushered Ronald forward slamming the door closed behind them.

     Price’s voice is full of surprise as he utters the only words that come to mind. “Well, I’ll be goddamned.”

~~~~~

    The day after the briefing, 141 and KorTac set off for the warehouse where you all would be training together. The goal was to take the place down from the inside and capture the target for questioning. The target is Ronald F. Mollins.

 He'd been suspected, and recently confirmed, to be one of three heads of a well-known terrorist organization. Said organization had been responsible for at least twenty-four of the latest terrorist attacks and bombings and your capture two years ago. According to Price, they had another attack planned for two weeks from now. It was crucial that you capture, or take down Ronald.

      On 141’s latest recon mission, Gaz stumbled upon the building plans for Ronald’s new safehouse. Price had everything set up and ready to go by the time you’d all been called in for the briefing.

      The mission training area was an old warehouse that was normally completely empty on the inside. On the occasions that it would be used, recruits would be ordered to set it up in a very specific way. Today, for instance, it was set up to mimic the hideout you’d be infiltrating. Pallets and old metal sheets acted as faux walls and doors. Old lights flicker above your head as you all take a preliminary walk through the building.

      You jump a little at the sound of Price’s voice coming through your headset. “I’m going to give you all 10 minutes to get a hold of your surroundings, then we’ll begin strategizing.” Your eyes find him standing overhead on the left-side catwalk. His watchful eyes from above were a luxury you wouldn’t have come time for you all to execute the actual mission.

     You all regroup at the front of the old warehouse-turned-training facility. Ten minutes had been more than enough for you to mentally map out the quickest route to Ronald’s office. The side entrances would definitely be key for getting you all in and out if you wanted to go with the stealthier option. For the louder alternative, however, the rear entry seemed best suited. Lots of cover from tight winding halls, plenty of rooms to dip into if things got too hairy, and most importantly, it was the closest entrance to Rolnalds office.

      You look around yourself at your team that had recently doubled in size. Most of them were deep in thought as they tried to come up with anything to contribute to a plan. Your eyes stop at König as he swiftly turns his face away from you. Had he been staring or was it simply your imagination? He had seemed off this morning, not that he didn’t seem off most of the time. This morning was different though. When you’d said hello to him in the kitchen he hadn’t said anything back. Not too strange you suppose but the way he avoided eye contact with you had made you feel some way. Hurt almost. You thought you two had started to become somewhat acquaintances at the very least, if not friends. Casual ‘Hello’s in the halls, small conversations about your days when you’d catch each other in the training room. Even sparring with each other.

     It was like a switch had flipped in him. The sweet man from before was gone and here with you stood someone almost as cold as Ghost. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. He wouldn’t say even one word to you. You hadn’t really noticed it before but you think maybe he had been avoiding you while you all walked through the building. Your heart drops as you think back to your previous interactions with him. Had you made him angry with something you’d said? Had you hurt him while training with him? No, surely he would have told you if you had. So, what was it then? Your heart grows heavy with your thoughts.

      “Alright ladies,” Price looks around the group and gives you a small nod, “And Iris.” A grin etches itself into your lips as he grins at you. He takes a step toward the center of the group clapping his hands together. “What’s the game plan?” Murmurs break out among the group of soldiers around you.

     One of the members of KorTac, Horangi you think is what the others called him, speaks up. “We could just blow through the doors, go in and take what we want.”

      Your brows raise at how rash he sounded. “That seems like a really bad idea.” Your hand comes up to absent-mindedly rub your temple. Working with contractors such as these was going to be hell on earth.

     Another KorTac member steps forward. “What would you know?” His tone is aggressive, almost hostile. “You just got accepted here, what, last week? I suggest not sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

      Heat rises in the back of your neck. Breathe. In. Out. Think through your actions. Anger should be used in a productive manner. “Quite a bit of hypocrisy in that statement, For-Hire.” Your words come out calm and calculated. “Now, if I may finish, I was saying we shouldn’t risk-”

      “For-Hire?” His voice drips with animosity as he steps toe-to-toe with you. “Watch your tone Louse. Wouldn’t want to wind up missing would we?” He’s so close now his nose nearly brushes yours as his eyes scan your form.

     Your mind begins to reel with images of you beating him into submission. Breath. On your right, you can see the 141 watching with entertained looks. From the corner of your eye, you catch a brief interaction between Price and König. Price holds his arm in front of König with a small shake of his head. König's eyes held a look of murder in them as he stared at his comrade’s back. Price clearly wanted to see what you’d do in this situation. You move your eyes back to the man in front of you, his larger form still looming over you. You blink slowly up at him, letting a heavy sigh slip out under your balaclava. The heat soaks into the fabric warming your cheeks with every breath. “I say this with all the respect I can find for you; please exit my personal space.”

     His eyes flash with defiance and he shows no sign of moving. His breath fans your face as he continues to loom over you. “I’ll move when I’m ready, Recruit.”

      “Why are the dumb ones always so cocky?” Your question causes a chorus of snickers to your right. You find it amusing, though it does little to push down the rage that has steadily grown within you. “Look, I asked you politely to get out of my face.” Teaching respect was productive, right? You allow your anger to bubble to the surface. “That. That was your warning.” He opens his mouth to say something back but all that comes out is a small shriek of pain as your boot makes contact with his groin. He falls to his knees before you and without a second thought, you twist him around to face his comrades. Your left-hand pins his right arm behind him, while your other hand pulls a knife from your vest. You press the dull edge lightly to his throat, smart enough even in your rage-stricken state to not seriously harm your own team members.

      You’re still seething but decide the poor man had had enough to learn his lesson. You slowly remove the knife from his throat and shove him forward into the ground. “A second warning is a luxury, For-Hire.” You take a small step back as your body slowly comes down from the adrenaline. “Savor the feeling and don’t make me regret leaving you alive.” You step back into your spot among the 141 as the man scurries back to join KorTac. You can feel König’s eyes on you. The way they take you in, the feeling of his stare was becoming all too familiar. You risk a glance his way and sure enough, he was looking you up and down, admiration replacing the murderous gaze he had moments ago.

     Price chuckles under his breath. “Perhaps I should have introduced you all one by one. I want this to sit in your minds as a prime example of why we never underestimate our opponents.” He gestures toward you as he turns to face the soldiers across from you. “I would like you all to meet Iris. Our newly returning Sergeant specializes in stealth ops, sniping, and swift takedowns. Light-footed, quick thinking and isn’t afraid to play dirty. In shorter terms; not to be messed with.” He steps back and turns so that he’s facing everyone. “Now then, let’s hear that plan.”

      After about thirty minutes of planning you all set off to test out the operation. After a few failed attempts, the first plan was thrown out the window. This pattern repeated itself over and over. Tensions had been rising all day and each failure pushed things closer and closer to the breaking point.

      Everything came to a head when König suggested moving you with KorTac at the front of the group. Ghost was having none of it though. His sudden possessiveness made you a bit weak in the knees. “That’s a fucking fever dream if I’ve ever heard one.” His eyes burned with white-hot rage from the long tense day. “Iris stays with me, end of story.” Me, not us? Your face flushes under the mask you wear.

      “But, if we had someone a bit smaller in the front we could keep things quieter. We could make it further in before being ambushed.” König explained his point as if Ghost would listen to reason.

     You shrug a little as you look between the two. “He’s not wrong Lt.” You play with the bottom edge of your balaclava. “Actually, König, do you think you and your team could get me close to the power box?”  You don’t miss the glare Ghost shoots at you. “If we could cut the power part way through rather than at the end, we would have the upper hand.” You turn to Ghost as he responds.

     “No.” His eyes don’t leave yours as he continues. “We’ll station someone, Gaz, near the power box. Give the word and throw them off. We’ll have the upper hand when we need it, and you.” He pokes his finger into your chest. “You stay with me.” Desperation flashes through his eyes for a split second. You can tell by how rigidly he stands that his mind has taken him back to the day they left you behind.

     Your eyes soften as you reach up and grasp the hand still touching your chest. His hand trembles slightly within yours. Even through both pairs of gloves you feel electricity jump between your hands. “Ok,” You search his eyes, making sure he’s in the present with you. His gaze shifts to where your mouth is under your mask. “I’m here. I’m with you Lt. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes shoot back up to yours. “I’ll stay with you.”

     He gives a small nod and creases form at the corners of his eyes as though he’s smiling. It’s gone as quickly as it came though replaced with that hardened gaze once again. “Good.” He pulls his hand from yours to pat you on the shoulder. “Let’s see if this works, shall we?”     ~~~~~

     You’d done it again. This time you were certain it was over for you. There would be no relocating you this time. No, you would be dead if you weren’t careful. You messed up, let yourself get caught off guard as your team and KorTac combed the halls in the dark. A group of opposition fighters came out of thin air, rushing your whole group. Everyone got separated in the attack. It was a risk you took every time you stepped out of the base to go on a mission. You could get separated, but you trained for that. You hadn’t, however, trained for the moment when your helmet along with your NVGs got knocked from your head by the opponent.

     You’d done your best to fight him off in the dark unsure where your equipment had landed. Once you had subdued your target you made your way out of the room. Using the sounds of battle you avoided high-traffic areas as you use the wall to guide you. After fifteen minutes your eyes had adjusted enough to see about twenty feet in front of you. Sighing internally you remind yourself that they too were blinded by the darkness and as long as you’re quiet, you may catch up to your team before everything goes to shit.

     You sneak your way through the halls the same as you had days before when practicing for the mission. You still had the rest of your gear to fall back on if things got too chaotic. Stealth is what you’re good at, that’s why you were recon by default. You could do this. You carry yourself in a low crouch through the building remaining silent. Every turn could be your death, and your mind is sure to remind you of that every time you pass an intersecting hall. You had two choices here, go straight for the exit and hope that they don’t have extra forces surrounding the building, or continue the path you had taken 15 times in training. It would most definitely be considered abandonment if you left without the others. What could you do though? Not only were your NVGs attached to the helmet but it also secured your comms to your head. Reaching out to them wasn’t an option whether you want to or not.

     You finally decide to move forward with the mission hoping they hadn’t moved to plan B. You make your way through the halls silently until you come to the center-most room. You had stopped briefly to gather your sense of direction when you heard it. Backup troops stormed through every entrance calling out into the darkness. You had to move quickly to reach your mission point before they did.

     It became evident to you that this would be your end when troops equipped in tactical gear appeared around you. You counted three as you stood, ready to fight for your life. It was pointless, you knew that the sound of the scuffle would most certainly draw more attention. Taking your chances you make a break for the closest doorway. They all followed shouting out their location for any nearby opposition to hear. After entering the room you spin on your heels raising your pistol to the opening you’d just come through. As they round the doorway to file in you open fire. Taking out two of them with no issues. The third managed to get a shot off on you. The impact and searing hot pain in your shoulder sent you stumbling back into the wall. With heaving breaths you allow yourself to slide down the wall.

      “Enemy down, all clear boys.” The man's retreating footsteps surprised you. Had he really thought you were dead? Were you dead?

      Blood drips from the wound down onto your gear as your head lolls forward. You sat there watching it for what felt like hours. There was no point in moving, you’d be gunned down if anyone found out you were still breathing. You couldn’t sit there and do nothing though, you had to do something or you really would die right here in a puddle of your own blood. The halls had been quiet for a while now you could probably risk checking if they had left, right? Your body felt sluggish, you’d lost quite a bit of blood by now. You weren’t strong enough at this moment to get to your feet. With an annoyed roll of your stiff neck, you move to release the straps of your vest. Without the weight of it and everything tucked inside you are able to stand. Every movement sends a sharp pain through the wound in your shoulder.

     As you peer from the doorway you find the halls empty. No enemy troops, no KorTac, and no 141. A light catches your eye from down the hall. As you slowly regain your bearings it dawns on you; Ronald had a generator for his office. That was one of the main points Price had driven into all of your heads during practice. That’s how he’ll call in the backup troops once the power is out. You’ll have less than fifteen minutes to get him or get out. Price’s voice nags in the back of your mind. How had you forgotten?

      The light gives you hope as you step into the hall. It was like the universe was giving you a sign, a way out of this mess. Ronald wasn’t a fighter. He had men for that. But if his men thought it was clear then there was a chance that Ronald was alone in there. There was a chance that you could still complete this capture with or without your team. You move quickly but silently like a predator on the prowl. You peak through every doorway, being sure every room is clear along the way to Ronald’s office. Now, standing toe to toe with the wooden door, you stop for a moment and just listen. The sound of clacking fills your ears as you grasp the handle. The hum of what sounds to be a printer emanates from beyond the door as the clacking stops, giving you the perfect cover to slip into the room.

     Ronald’s back is to you as you silently close and lock the door, ensuring there wouldn’t be any interruptions. Slowly you creep up behind him pressing the barrel of the pistol to the back of his head. “Don’t move, don’t speak. I have an ultimatum for you.” Your breath is deadly silent as you move to wrap your nondominant arm around his throat. You wince inwardly at the pain that ripples through you when moving that shoulder. “Firstly, are you armed?” He’s silent. “Yes or no, Ronald. Are you armed?” Your voice is forceful and wicked in its tone.

      “No.” His voice is shaky. He’s scared. Good. That means he probably isn’t in fact armed.

     “Good. Do you want to make it out of this building alive?”

     “Yes.” The single word comes out as more of a breath.

     “Great, now I have a few steps for you to follow.”

     “Why would I follow any instructions from you?” His voice still comes out shaky.

      “Well, that’s the ultimatum, dear Ronald.” Your voice lilts as your mind begins to suffer a bit of delirium from the blood loss. “Either you follow every word that comes from my mouth, or you die right here, right now.” Your gun presses hard into the side of his head in an attempt to prove your point. “Is that clear?” His small nod is enough for you to ease up just a bit. “Good, now listen.”

      You walk him step by step through every one of your demands. “Turn the power back on and lock down every door. I want them to only work with your key card.” You watch him like a hawk every step of the way. “Now, we’re gonna take a little walk to the west exit and you are going to call off all of your men, understand Ronny?” His legs shake beneath him as he nods fervently. “Alright, let’s get a move on Ronny boy, we’re burning daylight.”

     It was a rather short walk to the side entrance. You’d crossed paths with a few of his men but they were quickly dispatched as you both kept moving. True to his word only his key card worked for the doors. As soon as you’d enter they’d seal behind you, his men stuck on the other side helpless to free their leader. Once you’d finally reached the side door you sighed. This was it. You’ll be out in the fresh air where you could make your run back to the makeshift base about an hour's drive out.

     “Thank you Ronald for your cooperation. I would hate to have had to kill you.” You keep the gun level with his head as he pushes open the door to freedom. He steps out into the daylight, bringing his arm up to shield his eyes from the sun. “Keep moving, I can still shoot you.” He takes a few hesitant steps forward as you follow him out. You spare a glance at the top of the hill on your left, catching sight of 141 and KorTac making their way down to meet you, Ghost and König leading the charge.

     You’d survived. You’d fixed your mistake. Even through all your doubts and thoughts of your own death, you persevered.

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Desiree Simons

Warnings: self blame, a little bit of angst

a/n: After last nights rumble disappointment, I whipped my tears, and continued on. I still love Drew, and I would still storm the ring with him and Angela of course. I hope you guys enjoys this chapter, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. Follow me for more, and if you’re interested, my main characters have character introductions linked in my pinned post. Love ya

Chapter 2: Motive

On my way to the guerilla, I spot Renee standing nearby with a camera man, and microphone in hand. She perks up upon hearing my voice, “Hey Nae Nae!” Her head pops up, and her eyes widen in excitement. She greets me with open arms, I squeeze her smaller frame as tightly as possible, I remember how she would send me updates of her daughter frequently during my recovery. Even when I did not respond, she kept in touch. I can feel my eyes sting at the sentiment, but I hold it in so I wouldn't ruin my makeup. “Hey yourself, you look amazing Des.” Her eyes give me a once over, a small grin stretches across her lips. I held my face blushing, and I did a small twirl, bowing playfully, we both let out a fit of giggles before we sober up.

“Okay, okay, we doin an interview for me?” I clap my hands together, from my peripheral I caught Drew watching with an amused expression etched across his face, he leaned against a brick wall in the hallway. Matt Riddle seems to be chatting him up to the point I don't think Matt even knew Drew wasn’t paying attention anymore. I bit down on my lip to keep from smiling, Renee calls my attention back to the task at hand, she brings me over to my mark, which is next to her so that we’re both in frame. “Ladies, and gentlemen I’m here tonight with an oh so special guest, as she prepares to go out, Desiree, how are you feeling about this mixed tag match. We’ve never seen you tag with anyone before, let alone Drew McIntyre…” She trails off, holding the mic to me waiting for my answer. I press my lips together, I glance over to Drew momentarily, but turn back to Renee. “Aw man Nae, I’ve never felt better, ready to put my foot up Becky Lynch’s ass, hopefully for the last time because I’m just that tired of seeing her face from the other side of the ring. It doesn't matter if I was gone for weeks, months, or years, I stay ready, and you can bet all the money in the world that I’m always gonna deliver the W. She may have broken my knee but she hasn’t broken my spirit, as a Black girl in America…well you’re gonna have to do better than a steel chair.” I pause hearing the roar of the thousands of fans responding to my words, and that may not have been aimed at Becky directly, but I truly felt that way. And yeah, I absolutely have a chip on my shoulder about it. I took a breath looking down at my shoes trying to regain my focus, then looking back at Renee with a smirk on my lips, Becky’s music hit, so I tried to wrap it up quickly.

“As far as Drew is concerned, well what better a person to go into battle with than a Scottsman?” I end it with a tiny smirk, looking right into the camera lens, then I slap Renee on the shoulder, and walk out of frame letting her finish up her interview. Just then Colby walks past us, he descries Drew, then to me I stood on the opposite side of the hallway. He says nothing, but instead laughs his signature irritating laugh, his music plays, then struts his way through the curtain. I roll my eyes, but I don't give ‘The Drip God’ anymore attention. I finally cross the hall to Drew who’s gaze never left me, his eyes light up excitedly waiting for me to speak, but right when I take a breath to address him Matt Riddle pivots to me. His chill demeanor only raising a step above that, I didn't think it was physically possible for him to show any more energy anyway.

“Whoa, look who it is! Ya know I was just telling D-Man how good you guys would look as a couple. I’m actually glad your back bro, Austin Powers here was walking around real broody every week while you were gone. I told him he should have just visited you if he missed you so much.” Drew, and I gape at Matt in disbelief, it seems to me he let some shit slip that he shouldn't have. The look in Drew’s eyes held a promise to run Matt a receipt that he’s gonna be feeling for the rest of his life. Matt looks between the two of us, aloof of the tension between us because of his loose lips. My face settles into a look of chagrin, and ultimately ruins my mood. Then it dawns on me, “Austin Powers is British you idiot.” I roll my eyes, Drew’s lips parting as if he was going to say something, but my entrance music hits, it’s too late. I face the curtain before I could suffer anymore embarrassment, I took a deep breath, and to my credit, I was trying my best not to grimace.

“Look at the scowl on Desiree’s face tonight, usually she’s more lively, but she means business on her returning night. This would be her first in-ring match in a year. If you were Desiree, what would be going through your head right now, and what is the strategy to ensure you come out a winner?''Micheal Cole asked Wade Barret in commentary.

“I’ve known Desiree for quite a while now, she can be very easy going, and easy to get along with. She’s very sweet, but she’s all business in that ring no matter who her opponent is. All she needs to do is stay focused, keep her head in the game, and she’ll be just fine.” Wade says candidly, they watch as she finally makes her way to the ring, but doesnt get inside, instead she waits outside the ring.

“That seems to be easier said than done, you see how she’s distanced herself outside the ring, waiting for her tag partner tonight, Drew McIntyer, a two hundred and seventy five pound Scottsman. An unlikely pair of Desiree, and Drew, things could get very interesting. Unlike our former womens champion, Desiree, Becky Lynch seems to be in a playfull mood. She says that she’s been waiting, and biding her time for Desiree’s return. There’s been some talk among the women's locker room that the only reason Becky got the win that night at Wrestlemania was because of the damage she did to the knee of Desiree.” Micheal explains, looking into the camera, then to his partner Wade.

“I think I’m siding with Desiree on this one, the Becky v Desiree drama is starting to run stale. I’m very much looking forward to seeing how she fares against Mami, Rhea Rippley.”

I watch as Drew makes his entrance, he makes his way down the ramp, Angela by his side as always. I cannot deny how sexy he looks, like something right out of a fantasy novel. Though I was still annoyed by the previous events, I could feel my tough demeanor softening. His gaze locking on Colby in the ring, he pointed Angela towards him with an unspoken promise of an asswhooping. When he finally reaches me, he tears his eyes away from our opponents, and settles them on me. An apology reflects in his sky blue eyes fleetingly, then a look of playfulness, and soon he was smiling at me charmingly. He took me by the hand, and walks me around to the other side of the ring where his sword holder was attached to the ring post. He sits Angela down on the apron temporarily, then he turns to me, and he holds his hands out to me signaling that he wants to pick me up. At first I try to reject the idea, but Drew is insistent. “Beam me up Scotty.” I sigh, giving in, he lifts me by my midsection, gripping me securely, and places me on the apron in front of the ropes. I press my lips together, a last ditch effort to keep the giggles that are threatening to press past my lips. He then climbs up, and stands tall next to me. He turns to the crowd holding Angela out to them with one hand, fire blast from the ring post, and the people roar to life once again. A proud smile on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and held the ropes open for me.

“Hey, hey, hey, relax a little. Calm down.” Drew and I have a small side bar while the announcer does her due diligence, when he sees that I’m not letting go of my mood, and choosing to be stubborn despite him being able to see through my shield. He shrugs as the bell rings, then slaps me on the shoulder hard enough to nearly knock me over. I stumble forward a bit, the glare on my face is enough to bury him, but he backs away, then ducks between the ropes before I get a chance to slap him back.

“I’m over here sweetheart.” Becky whistles to me, we circle each other, arms raised looking to lock up. She overpowers me, pulling me into a headlock, and cutting the blood flow to my head. I can see Drew in the corner watching closely, he seems annoyed which for some reason rubs off on me, and for a second I get a bit of energy back to somewhat break out of her hold. All I could manage was to buck my hips back into her, she let out a yelp, and had no choice but to let me go. My breathing heavy, and ragged. As soon as I get some separation, Becky ruins it, and kicks me roughly in my gut. Down I go.

“Are you kidding me! That’s all ya got? Aren't you supposed to be a five time champion?” I can hear Drew yelling at me from our corner, I wasn't sure what game he was playing at right now, but if it was meant to get my angry boy it was working. He knew exactly how to push my buttons, and he always did it at the worst times.

“Um, are these supposed to be words of encouragement from Drew?” Micheal asked no one in particular.

“Yes, unfortunately, this is indeed Drew’s vexing, yet effective way of getting you fired up. He’s very good at getting under your skin, in your head, and picking you apart. Putting that Criminal degree to use here in the WWE. Weirdly enough it works, so I don't question his methods.” Wade explains.

“C'monn, wha’yer doin down there takin a nap? We got work to do, get your arse up DeeDee!” He continues to shout at me, I grunt out in frustration, and as I’m getting to my feet Becky is grabbing me by my arms, pulling me all the way up, and irish whipping me into the ropes on the other end of the ring. I bounce off, running at her, she's trying to set me up for a power bomb, but I duck in enough time. I pause mid stride catching her off guard, she stands frozen, and we take a moment to let the crowd react before she turns to run to the ropes. She bounces off, and comes at me full speed. I counter her moves, lifting her up by the waist, and slamming her face fist into the matt.

Wade stands to his feet, “look at the strength! I’ve never seen the Falcon Arrow so wonderfully executed.”

“WOO! That's what I’m talking about!” Drew, and the audience popped at the same time. They have better liked that, I’ve been practicing that move with Colby for god knows how long, and I never got to use it till now. I look back at Becky, I knew she wasn't getting up for a moment, so grab her by the arms, and drag her over to her and Colby’s corner. “Hey! Hey you brat! I taught you that!” He shouts at me, he leans over the turnbuckle to make the tag, and climbs in.

“Yup, and I did it better.” I taunt him, swiping my shoulder like I was dusting it off. Then I trudge over to Drew and I’s corner where he waves at me innocently, I slap him on his chest as hard as I could muster. He groans, feeling the sting, but I’m sure that barely hurts him in comparison to the beatings he usually takes, he clenches his jaw suddenly not finding humor in his own game. The ref acknowledges our tag, “You do realize this behavior won't fly missy.” Drew mumbles to me.

“Ohh I’m so scared, is the big bad man gonna punish me?” I say in a childishly mocking voice, the look in his eyes held promise of something too inappropriate for tv, his stare lingers on me for a moment, before he sets his intensity on Colby. Their start off is the exact opposite of Becky and I, there weren't any formalities, forgetting all about the lock up, Colby wastes no time punching Drew right in the face. Which if anything appears to make him more upset, Colby stares at him like a deer caught in headlights, but when Drew jumps forward faking a counter move, Colby sprung to action. He ran for the ropes, bounces off of them, and sent himself right into Drew’s forearm eating a nasty looking closeline.

“BOOM!” Drew shouts, feeling confident, and looking even more arrogant. The crowd eats him right up, no matter how badly he beats on their heroes, in the eyes of the people that man is always validated.

“Seth knows better than anyone how explosive Drew’s temper can be. I've had the misfortune of knowing how Drew McIntyre can flip like a switch.” Wade lets out a deep chuckle, “At first he’s sweet, and then boy oh boy is he sour.”

Seth jumped off the second rope, meaning to go for a ddt, but Drew caught him mid air, skull to skull. As usual Drew won that battle.

“OH! Glasgow Kiss, and a Falcon Arrow this early in the match up. Drew McIntire and Desiree did not come to play.” Micheal Cole nearly jumps out of his seat along with the rest of the crowd.

The sound of their skulls clanging together sends a shiver down my spine making my whole body cringes, there’s no nice way to deliver a headbutt, however I can't help but feel that one was personal. There’s no love loss between Colby, and Drew, in fact I don't think they ever got along behind the curtain. Thankfully for Hunter, the two of them know how to be professional for long enough to put on a good show. Drew would never go into detail about why he doesn't like Colby, and every time I’ve asked it usually results in an argument. “Some role model he is, ‘oh lighten up, have fun’ he says” I mumble mockingly in the corner, my interpretation of his accent rusty from not being around him in so long.

“What did you say?” Drew whips around, I nearly jump out of my skin not realizing he’s not too far from me, Colby is outside the ring, on the floor near me. His breathing heavy, as he clutches his shoulder, I glance back to Drew who’s still watching me. Meanwhile the ref is counting out Colby, I roll my eyes, and get down from the apron. Everyone watches me with confusion, Becky starts to holler at me as I make my way over to Colby, and help him up.

“Gosh you’re fat.” I grunt as I try to pull him up from the floor, I yank his arms as hard as I can to lift him, and suddenly he comes up with ease. I smile to myself thinking that all my training has been paying off till I see who’s on the other side holding onto Colby’s arm, Drew not only looks confused, but furious.

“Aye, I know what I’m doin’ I don't need you getting involved.” He fusses at me, Colby’s tired body now leaning on me, his face in the crook of my neck, and it hadn’t even dawned on me how this must look to everyone else. Becky shouting at us to get back in the ring, the ref following her lead, and the whole arena in disarray. That may or may not be my fault. But the fans are eating it up, so I just go with it, I push Colby off me, and back into Drew’s arms.

“You were taking too long! I dont wanna win by count out! Get him in there, and let's go already!” I clap my hands trying to herd Drew to the apron.

Wade chimes in trying to make sense of what’s happening for the viewers, “I don't know what’s being said exactly but it seems like Desiree was beginning to get impatient with Drew, Seth Rollins who’s still very much winded probably doesn't know where he is right now after Drew roughly threw Rollins into the barricade over the top rope causing Seth to go head, and shoulder first into it.”

“Becky Lynch the only competitor in the ring right now, but her partner Seth Rollins is still technically the legal man right now. She has the ability to change the pace of things, and it seems as if she’s making that choice right now as she climbs to the top looking to fly while Drew, and Desiree are too busy arguing. AND OFF THE TOP BECKY GOES! A hell of a crash landing from The Man, Becky Lynch.”

Drew looks up above me, “watch out!” I duck in enough time to dodge out the way, and not almost die from her crash landing. Drew catches her in his arms, she squirms in his hold, but he wasn't sure what to do with her. The crowd was in a frenzy, “hey, hey, over here!” I call Drew, he shrugs his shoulders, then hands her off to me, but she begins to fight back. I fight her off with a few punches to the ribcage, then putting her over my shoulders, and dropping her face first onto my knee. I roll her into the ring then climb in after her. I let her rest for a moment while I took a short break myself. I flip her onto her back, hook both her legs, putting my body weight across her chest, and lift my fips for good measure. The ref counts, three, the bell rings, and just like that I end the match with the win. The crowd erupts, it felt good to know I had them back in my corner. Drew’s large hand grasps mine, and raises it high, almost lifting me off my feet from our dramatic height difference.

“Oops, sorry, I forget you're a wee little lad.” He chuckles, graciously holding the ropes open for me like the gentleman he is, then stepping through the middle rope, and jumping down. This time when he offers to pick me up, I don't argue, but rather hop into his arms, he catches me with ease. The fans shout for our attention, I notice how many phones are on us right now, and we might possibly get in a bit of trouble for this interaction. I didn't care for the moment, for now I’ll ride the high of my return.

“Great job out there partner.” Drew compliments me, the night isn't completely over so there were still a few Superstars scattered about, warming up, or chatting with each other. No one really paid us any mind, that’s if they could see me underneath his large frame, but that got me thinking about all that I want to bring up tonight over dinner.

“Think I might be giving Sheamus a run for his money?” I ask, we approach the women's locker room, the mens a little ways from here, he was sweet enough to pass up his own stop.

Drew’s face lights up at the mention of his best friend, letting out a hearty laugh, his head thrown back, and his hand on his chest. He peers down at me, hands on his hips, “Keep dreamin las, maybe if you put on a few extra pounds, and pick up some weights. You might come close.” I couldn’t help the grin that stretches across my face, his energy infectious, I raise my head to look up at him. If he leans in a little lower he could kiss me, his eyes flicker to my lips, and back to my eyes. He takes my hand, turns it over, pressing his lips to my palm gingerly, and then pressing my hand against his bare chest. His chest hairs are soft beneath my palm, but I hardly notice. “What I should have said earlier was that I’m happy to see you, and I’m glad you’re well.” He said softly, his other hand came up to gingerly sweep the hair stuck to my lip out of my face. I swear I couldn't breathe right now, but I inhale as much air as possible to make sure I dont pass out from lack of oxygen.

“It’s okay.” I whisper, the door to the locker room opens, and out comes Mandy Rose. She looks between the both of us seemingly upset, but I couldn't fathom why. We weren't ever the best of friends but as far as I knew we had a fairly decent working relationship. Drew did not spare her a glance, his eyes remained on me, and eventually she’s out of sight. Unfortunately that little exchange took me out of the moment, my stamina wearing off, and the beating I took earlier is catching up to me. I let out a deep breath, letting my hand slide down his body, and dropping down to my sides.

“I need a hot shower, and a change of clothes. I’ll see you later?” I lean my hip against the door, one hand already twisting the handle. I knew if I didnt get from under his microscope now then I’d end up in his clutches for sure.

Drew let me choose the restaurant per his request, and when I got there he was already there near the back. I walk up to the greeter at the front, he smiles at me kindly, and I return his gesture, “Table for Galloway.” He checks his tablet, then leads the way to the back of the restaurant where the lighting is a bit dimmer, and intimate. I suddenly feel nervous when Drew looks up from his phone, our gazes meet, my lips part as I take him in from afar. He’s simply dressed in a white button up, the first few buttons undone showing off his chest hair, and dark denim jeans. He stands from his seat like a gentleman, he smiles charmingly, his eyes sparkling with desire. I thanked the host, then he left us alone, left me alone…with Drew. “Well, at least I know I didn’t over dress?” He takes my hand holding it up, and he gently pushes my hip signaling me to turn. As I’m twirling, I notice we caught the attention of onlookers, as Drew is the largest man, probably in the entire restaurant. He hums satisfiedly, a giggle pushes past my lips; sometimes he makes me feel so easygoing, and not caring about a single person watching.

Still, but holding onto me, his other hand comes around my waist, and pulls me in closer. Leaning down, He places a chaste kiss on my cheek, then whispering into my ear. “You always look, beautiful princess.” His lips brushing my ear, my voice caught in my throat, and he took my frozen stature as an excuse to keep me there a moment longer. He dips his head lower to the crook of my neck inhaling my perfume as deeply as he could. My stomach began to flip aggressively, I’ve never wanted to kick my own ass so badly, because what was I thinking, just ignoring him for a year? Not wanting to cause any more of a scene I press my hand to his midsection pushing him away, and getting some space between us.

“Drew…” I groan, this was supposed to be a casual dinner but he was acting like he wants to spread me out on the dinner table. I was only going to have as much self control as he was. That's how we got into this predicament. He kissed me at one of LA Knight’s Christmas parties four years ago, unbeknownst to us how much chemistry there was between us.

“Right…casual dinner, here lemme get this for ya.” He reluctantly let me go, pulling out my chair, waiting for me to sit, and slowly pushing me in. By the time he got around to his size, a waiter was approaching us, a polite smile spread across their mouth.

“Evening, are we ready to order?”

Drew gestures for me to order first, not wanting to make anyone wait, I went for my usual choice. “I’ll have blackened salmon, with the roasted potatoes…can I also get sauteed broccoli on the side please.” The waitress quickly jots down my order, then moves on to Drew, who is of course a heavy weight, ordering a medium rare ribeye steak, buttery mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. He could definitely eat more, I once witnessed him damn near inhaling a platter of buffalo chicken tenders, fries and downing a beer to wash it down.

“Okay, I'll be right back with your drinks, and then your meal should be shortly after that.” Then they disappear out of our eyesight, yet again we were left alone. I wasn't sure where to start, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to my head, “I got a cat..sss, I got two cats.” He perks up in interest, I pull my phone from my purse, scrolling through my photos, and find the hundreds of selfies I took, but never sent. I slide the phone over, our fingers graze sending a shock of electricity through me, my skin prickles, and I quickly pull my hand back.

“Well look at that, you’re a cat mom, who would have thought. What’s their name?” He asked, he stared at the photos adoringly, we both leaned in over the table to try and get a good angle of the phone. I scroll back to the selfie of me and my gray Scottish Fold, I felt my face heat up in embarrassment, “this is Andrew…” There was a long pause as I watch him stare down at the picture on my phone, a look of adoration in his eyes. “Is it weird that I named my cat after you?” I smile sheepishly as his facial expression changes into one of shock, then a look of affection. His eyes brimming with tears unexpectedly.

“Yeah, it's a teeny bit weird. But! It’s literally the sweetest thing ever. I’m flattered that you thought of me.” He smiles, a bittersweet expression in his eyes, my lips parting to speak, but the waitress saves me. Placing our drinks down in front of us, and kindly reassuring us our food is on the way.

We simultaneously sip, I take as long as I can, and swallow impossibly slow. When I looked up from my glass, Drew was already looking at me, and I nearly choked on my wine. He watches me with his eyebrows raised, as I continue to chug, his own glass lowers. I paused for a second, but he encourages me to continue, “go on, don’t let me stop ya.”

I gulp down the rest of the dark red wine knowing I might regret that sooner than later. I felt proud of myself the way he looks at me from across the table, usually Drew is the heavy drinker, and eater at that. I smile bodaciously, my lips stretching across my face, he slams his fist onto the table. He chuckles deeply, bringing the attention of the restaurant back to us.

“Never knew I needed to see you chug wine, till I saw you chug wine…that is something.” He confesses as he gazes at me, mesmerized by what he just witnessed.

“I learned from the best.” I chortle, shrugging my shoulders, glancing down at my phone. It brought my mind back to what I wanted to say a moment ago. Taking in a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, I try to get serious again. Clearing my throat, I spoke up, “I did think about you a lot, there’s a lot of drafts in my phone, and selfies I wanted to send.” I exhale, then snuck a quick glance across the table, and sure enough he’s hanging on my every word. Blue eyes watching me attentively. “And the reason I didn’t…honestly I just felt like I’d bring you down. There were some good days I could have told you about, like when I adopted Andrew, and Sadie. But then I felt like, why would you even want to talk to me at this point? Were you even still interested in me?” I didn’t intend on confessing as much as I did, but his silence is motivating.

“For every time I had something good or positive to tell you, my own subconscious slammed me down. You know me, I’m prideful, I never want to tell you all the bad things, it just felt like complaining. So here I am, pouring my heart out hoping you’ll take me back. I mean, I understand if we’re just friends, I’m perfectly okay with that.” Lies, all lies, of course I wasn’t going to be okay with being just friends, my eyes found interest in my nails as I lay my palm flat against the dinner table cloth.

His large hand took mine, then interlocking our fingers, and brought my attention to him. “First of all, of course I still want to be friends, we were friends first, remember? Secondly, I wanted to hear everything, no matter how miserable you thought it was because that’s what real friends do sweetheart.” He says ever so gingerly, I could have cried, the fact that he had to reiterate that made me feel stupid. I sniffled a little trying to hold back tears. Looking up to the ceiling, I wonder what I did to deserve such a man in my life. “I wanted to be there for you through it all, but your crazy arse wouldn’t let me.” He jokes, just then our food came, so reluctantly Drew broke the hold he had on me to allow the server to place our food in front of us.

“What now then?” I ask, I was just fine with letting him steer things because clearly I couldn’t handle being in charge. He thought about it for a moment, cutting into his steak, and taking a few bites. I nibble at my salmon, suddenly in the mood for different meat to be in my mouth. I cross my legs one over the other, thankful for the table cloth, but I’m sure my facial expression gave me away. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions. Drew’s mouth twitches, an attempt to hide a slight smirk on his lips.

“Hmm, well we can’t be friends.” He says, playfully, and I almost choke. I place my fork down calmly, and fold my hands in my lap to keep from trying to stab myself in the eye.

“We can’t?” My voice above a whisper, his lips press together, and his eyebrows drawn, a pensive expression etched across his face. This is not how I thought things would turn out at all, I mean he made it clear that he was mad initially. But to just leave it behind completely.

He shook his head, “nope.” I sat for a while, when I peake at him from underneath my lashes I saw how he’s simmering. Desire deep in his eyes, his gaze piercing, he leans forward in his seat.

“Why not?” I tug at my bottom lip, his eyes dropping to my mouth, and tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Memories of how that same movement could weaken me, and make me scream his government.

“Do you really think after a year of not seeing you, not having you…that I would let you roam free? Getting rid of me won’t be that simple I fear, but it’s ridiculous to call us just friends after all this. I mean, who are we kidding, I’ve done things to you that won’t ever compare, and I don’t need another man daring to try.” He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his, his thumb caressing my knuckles, and his other holding onto his cup of Guinness. Then this crazy man proceeds to chug his beer, nearly inhaling it. He lets out a grunt after roughly setting his glass back down, his lips settles into a small smile as she leans forward. “You and I both know, our chemistry is just too intense to call it quits. So, meet me in the middle, and take things slow?” He offers, and after a whole year away, I finally know exactly what I want.

“Yea…I’d like that.” I agree meekly, biting in my bottom lip, taking things slow with him sure is going to be hell on wheels. All I’ve wanted him to do since earlier today was rip my clothes off, but if I want to be more present in this relationship, I can’t let my pussy do all the taking for me. We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, then I accidentally let out a yawn.

“Past your bedtime already?” Drew chuckles, a soft smile curled into his lips, making his dimples more prominent, and a smile of my own mirroring his.

“I didn’t even tell you about my time off yet.” I whine, falling back in my seat, unlady like, but we’re way past that point.

His smile deepens into a grin, “how about you tell me on the ride back to the hotel?” He pulls out his wallet to place his debit card down, and I knew better than to make a fuss about it. My eyelids were already feeling heavy, and my body was settling into the kind of ache you get when you’ve been awake too long. After the waitress returns with styrofoam boxes, and everything is taken care of, Drew helps me to stand.

“Up ya go princess, that a girl.” He drapes one arm protectively over my shoulder letting me hide under his large body, and my arm wraps around his lower back. He opens the passenger door, holds out his hand for me to use, and of course my shoe slips on the door— the inside of the panel wet, and slick from rain— causing me to panic. As I stumble backwards, Drew catches me, placing one hand on my hip, and the other on my back, supporting my weight. I successfully made it into the vehicle, thanks to my man.

As soon as my body relaxes into the heated leather seats, my eyes close. It wasn’t my intention to fall asleep, but once he turns the radio on, the sound of soft music playing is the icing on the cake. By the time I open my eyes, we’re driving up to the hotel valet. Drew is already on my side of the car helping me out. We walk to the elevator hand in hand, when we finally step on, instinctively I wrap my arms around his waist snuggling up to him like a cat. I let my eyes slide close, leaning all my body weight on him, the elevator came to a temporary stop, and though I knew someone had got on they didn’t speak. Drew’s body tenses slightly causing my eyes to fly open, thinking we might be getting into an altercation, but seeing the only other person in the elevator is Mandy I relax. Her eyes flicker from Drew then to me; I wasn’t sure what her sour facial expression is for, but I speak to her anyway, deciding not to let anything ruin my night. “Hey, it’s a nice night out.” To my credit, I was trying to be nice, but I’m met with a blank expression.

“It’s raining.” She deadpans, and I didn’t mean to laugh, but I let it slip. I couldn’t fathom how someone as pretty as she is could make such an ugly face. Hmm, how disappointing.

“Yeah, but rain can be beautiful.” I said softly, a faint smile curling up onto my lips. Her eyebrows drew together, her lips parts to say something, but it seems her voice was caught in her throat. I held her gaze, it looks like she was going out; her makeup was freshly done, coat, and purse in hand. Her outfit was revealing, and perfectly tailored to show off all her petite curves. I didn’t realize how intensely I’m staring till the elevator doors ping, I tore my eyes away to look up and see it was my floor.

“Welp, that's us.” Drew spoke up for the first time since we got on, if our arms weren’t tangled together, I would have forgotten he was there. He all but shoves me out the elevator doors, at last second I caught a glimpse of the way Mandy gloweres at Drew and I’s hands clasped together.

“Ya know, is it just me, or does Mandy seriously have it out for me. Like did you see that attitude?” I could feel anger rise in me, and settle in my chest. I definitely didn’t deserve all the passive aggressive energy she’s giving me.

“That’s not the last thing you wanna think about before bed.” He says softly, and like that, my peace is restored. We stand on either side of the door, he had one foot on the threshold, playing with the idea of him coming in, but fighting himself on it.

“Then what should I be thinking about then?” My hands crept up his chest, reaching up his neck, and held onto him. My fingers play with his low ponytail, twirling it around my index finger. He pulls me in closer, my chest pressing to his abdomen; I tilt my head back so I could see his face. His eyes resemble a clear blue sky, his gaze hazy, and full of lust; butterflies swirl in the pit of my stomach, giving me chills. His hand slid up my arm, to my face where he cups my cheek.

I stand up on my toes to try and meet him halfway causing the corners of his mouth to curl upwards, he chuckles lightly. I wasn't sure what he found so funny, but I didn't bother to ponder it. As much as I want to invite him in, and request he do unspeakable things to me, I decide against it. “Only a goodnight kiss.” I clarified, a yawn fell from my lips accidentally, and this time Drew let out a boisterous laugh.

“Alright, alright. Goodnight sweetheart.” He presses a chaste kiss to my forehead, then my nose, and lastly my lips. My hands cup around his face, gripping his beard, and holding him in place for a moment longer. My hands slid down to his chest to create some space, and at my request he slowly separate himself from me. I lean against his body for a moment to catch my breath. Drew on the other hand is breathing like he just ran a mile, his hands gripping the fabric of my dress. His eyes darkened, “excuse my abrupt exit, but if I don't walk away right now…well lets just say you won't be waking up till 12 pm tomorrow.” He whispers almost achingly, and with a look of determination in his eyes he pushes away from me. When he turned to head back to the elevators, all I could do was stand there speechless. I clean my puddle off the floor, force myself to go into my hotel room, and get ready for bed. I barely slept that night.

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pocket10--Stringing Him Along

Kink belongs at Pride and as an ace person I'm personally sick of people using my existence to try and push it out, so this year I'm dedicating my Pride Pockets to Kink. Anyway I am glad everyone is with me on making Steve the kind of guy who loves using toys on his lovers. I have combined it with him being an artist. You can find this posted on AO3 (here). Look out for under the cut!

--

Steve finished darkening the shadows on his sketch slowly, allowing himself the time to savor the hiccupping little gasps Tony was letting out. He’d gotten the promise of three full sketches out of Tony, and it was only after the second one that Tony had seemed to realize just how much effort it was going to take to be a model for him. Steve took a moment to look over his other two sketches, just to see if Tony would finally admit defeat.

The first was simple enough, more a warmup than a true sketch—Tony on his stomach, ass in the air, bound hands between his planted knees. He looked vulnerable, wearing nothing but his button-up shirt and socks with garters. He’d been wearing a tie, but Steve had decided to cinch it tight around his wrists instead, partly to keep Tony from being able to just reach back and pull the beads out, but mostly because he liked the way the tie had looked wrapped around his arms. Steve had spent most of the first sketch watching Tony roll his hips so the weighted beads would shift over his prostate until he came, warming up with long strokes of his pencil to try and mimic Tony’s movements.

The second sketch was more finished than the first, Tony splayed out on his back, blown pupils hidden behind drooping eyelids. His legs were spread wide, showing off the retrieval ring between his cheeks, his spent cock, and a bite mark on the inside of his left thigh that Steve had left the night before. Tony had been so exhausted after finally working himself to orgasm, he’d let Steve move him around like a doll, getting him in just the right position. He’d put a pillow under Tony’s hips to prop him up more, show off his stuffed hole and trembling thighs. Steve hadn’t bitten his other thigh to give it a matching mark, but it had been a struggle.

Steve finally looked up from the sketches under the guise of comparing the third to his model. Tony had gotten his second wind, and Steve had taken full advantage of it, directing Tony up onto his knees so he could work on a front view of him. He’d hooked a bullet vibrator into the retrieval ring of the beads, which was barely small enough to fit, so didn’t pack a lot of power. It was enough that it sometimes made Tony’s hips jerk to chase it, though, and as the weight of the beads inside him shifted, he threw his head back to let out wounded little moans, muscles taut as he fought the urge to chase it because he didn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of getting himself off untouched again.

Tony’s shirt was soaked with sweat from the exertion, the white fabric clinging to him like a second skin as his reactor glowed dimly through it. His hair was starting to curl where it had gotten damp with sweat as well, and sometimes his sharp eyes would catch a drop trickling down the side of his face, or down a shaking thigh. His bound hands were clasped in front of him, shoulders rolling every once in a while to try and ease the ache from the way his arms were position. His eyes were wet, and every so often he’d glare at Steve, but it was undercut by the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip to force back any of the begging he obviously wanted to do.

Steve leaned back in his seat casually, as if he didn’t want to make Tony fuck himself to not only a second orgasm, but a third and a fourth. “Well, I think these are enough for me right now. How ‘bout we take those pretty beads out of you, huh?”

“You asshole,” Tony choked out, frozen in place again, because if he moved, he’d shift the weights. Steve knew he enjoyed it, though. His cock had firmed up as he'd knelt for him, full and heavy between his trembling thighs.

Steve didn’t say so, just letting Tony believe he was getting his way. He so rarely got the upper hand between the two of them. He wasn’t going to give this one up. Instead, he stood, walking over to the bed and curling his fingers around Tony’s waist.

“Wait,” Tony gasped, startled, as he realized what was about to happen.

Steve ignored him, instead using his grip to tip him backward so he fell on his back. He took a moment to relish the punched-out whine Tony let out as the beads’ weight shifted with each bounce across the mattress. He took the vibrator out of the retrieval ring and turned it off, tossing it with the other toys to wash. “Look at you,” he cooed as Tony gasped for air. “All soft and sweet for me. Open your legs for me, sweetheart.”

Tony’s thighs spread obediently, and he was certain it was only because he was so happy with the prospect of having the beads taken out.

Steve hooked his finger into the retrieval ring and pulled, watching as the cord began slipping out of his body until finally, the first bead caught against Tony’s rim. He traced the edge of it with his thumb, glancing up at Tony with a smirk. “If you manage not to come from me pulling the beads out, I’ll suck you off.”

“Yes,” Tony answered immediately, breathless, before what Steve said really registered. He grimaced, managing a suspicious scowl as he added, “And if I don’t?”

“I’m putting the beaded plug in you and you have to keep it in all night,” Steve purred, giving the retrieval ring a twist. It made Tony arch his back and whine in response, eyes nearly crossing with pleasure.

He pulled again, watching as Tony’s hole gripped onto the silicone, trying to suck it back in. This was his favorite set; each bead was about the size of a golf ball, and Tony squirmed so nicely both when he pressed them into his wet hole and when he tugged them back out. He’d said once before that the way the weights shifted if he even moved minutely lit something up inside him that no other toy could replicate, and Steve loved watching the way his muscles worked to get himself off. This, though, was his favorite part of being able to use anal beads on Tony, the end of the night—he got to tease him with them, until he was nearly foaming at the mouth with pleasure and frustration, overwhelmed and wanton at the same time. He had an entire sketchbook dedicated to the way Tony’s hole looked stretched around his collection of beads.

Steve gave a little tug, pulling the bead past the halfway point so Tony could push it out instead. Tony jerked like he’d been shot as it slipped free, hips rolling into the mattress as his hole fluttered around the cord uselessly. His mouth dropped open into wet panting, and he lost his battle to keep his tears at bay, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Steve took a moment to pet along his thighs, leaning in to press a kiss to his hip. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just two more. You can do it.”

“I can’t,” Tony moaned, voice cracking.

“Yes you can, baby,” Steve assured, adjusting his grip so that he could work the second bead out.

Tony groaned, head moving back and forth even as his thighs strained wider. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” Steve cooed, curling his free hand tighter around Tony’s hip to help him keep still. “Here’s the second one, sweetheart.”

“I c—” Tony began to choke out, then cut himself off, choking on the words as Steve rocked the cord back and forth to leverage the bead out faster. His hips strained against Steve’s grip, trying to thrust up, though whether to jerk into his rocking or flee it, Steve couldn’t tell. His still-bound hands flew down to grab his forearm, knuckles going white with how tightly he dug his fingers in.

Steve hardly noticed, focusing on watching Tony’s hole reluctantly spreading for the second bead. He’d become an expert at this, getting Tony all whiny and overwhelmed, squirming and desperate for him. The first bead required soothing, as Tony’s brain shifted from focusing on the pleasure of the main event to the relief of it ending. He loved when Steve put the beads in, loved fucking himself to completion on them (especially with Steve as his audience), but then he realized that they had to come out after he was already so sensitive, and he got overwhelmed. The second bead had to be quick, almost impersonal, no teasing. Tony needed to see that he could get through it, that he was capable of the beads being pulled out without simply passing out.

It left the third bead for Steve to tease him with, and the day Tony realized that Steve had a pattern, he was going to be in trouble. Luckily, as the second bead popped free and Tony sagged like his strings had been cut, Steve doubted it was going to be that day.

“Fuck,” Tony gasped, hips straining against Steve’s grip again.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, letting go of the beads so he could run his hands up and down Tony’s sides. “Almost done. One more bead left. You’re doing so well for me.”

Tony sucked in a wet breath, shaking his head, but he obediently tipped his head up when Steve finally crawled up his body to pull him into a kiss, bound hands coming up so he could curl his fingers into Steve’s shirt. “Please,” he whimpered against Steve’s lips.

Steve took a moment to suckle on Tony’s swollen bottom lip, then finally leaned back, petting over Tony’s sides and stomach gently. “One more, sweetheart. And you’re gonna come on it.”

“’m not,” Tony mumbled, somehow still having the wherewithal to be mulish about it.

Steve was reluctantly impressed by that, if nothing else. “Okay,” he said, instead of telling him so, and leaned back to look between Tony’s legs again, grabbing the retrieval ring with a playful tug that made Tony grunt. He didn’t wince under the glare Tony responded with, but barely. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Tony huffed, but immediately lost all his haughtiness when Steve pulled on the retrieval ring again, back arching as the last bead was pulled forward.

Steve took his time. He wasn’t going to allow Tony to try and force him into giving up his favorite part of playing with the beads. He let the cord go lax so Tony’s body would draw it back in, then drew it taut again, watching as Tony’s hips shook with the effort to not rock against his grip. Steve knew he was close—Tony’s body was tense like a bowstring, and it would only take a pluck in the right place for him to fall apart.

He pulled the cord tight enough that Tony’s hole began to spread open for the bead to peek out, pausing when he noticed Tony’s toes curling. Steve had no intention of letting Tony lose the bet so easily, even if he already knew how it was going to end. He relaxed his grip a little so Tony’s body sucked the bead back in.

“You fucking asshole,” Tony gasped, back arching.

Steve grabbed his hip and shoved him flat again, punching the air out of him, though whether because the bead shifted in response or it startled him, he didn’t know. “Don’t be sassy.” Tony managed a glare, but his chest was heaving too hard to speak. Steve decided that that was answer enough, drawing the cord tight again and pulling the bead out further this time, until Tony was whining, thighs shaking, hips jerking uselessly under Steve’s grip. He tugged a little, just to make Tony think he was going to pull the bead out all the way, then let his grip relax again.

Tony howled, furious, and tried to swing at him with his bound hands. Steve caught his wrists easily in one hand, lunging forward to pin them above Tony’s head so he couldn’t swing again. He used his knees to keep Tony’s thighs wedged apart so he couldn’t kick him instead. “You big fucking tease I hate you!” Tony yowled, squirming impotently.

“Yeah, I know,” Steve answered, unable to keep the fondness from his voice, and leaned in to press their mouths together to swallow anymore complaints. He knew Tony didn’t have a lot of fight left in him, too exhausted from his first orgasm and then trying to keep his last pose. Tony just liked to complain (a lot, sometimes) so Steve had to let him work through it at his own pace.

Tony eventually relaxed, falling limp below him with a muted whimper as Steve leaned back. “Steve, please…”

Steve pressed one last, chaste kiss to his mouth, then crawled backward, confident, at least, that Tony wouldn’t come up swinging again. His hands came down to rest on Tony’s still-shaking thighs and pet them soothingly, as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised, and Tony let out a shuddering sigh in response.

Steve grabbed the retrieval ring again, free hand still resting on Tony’s thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. He waited for Tony to take a deep breath, then pulled on the cord until it went tight. Tony went stiff, whimpering again, but Steve soothed him through it as he carefully used his grip to wiggle the cord back and forth, using the bead’s shifting weight to his advantage. Tony made a very interesting squeaky noise in response. He’d have to remember this trick for next time.

“Steve,” Tony whimpered, hips jerking up again, before his head dropped back with a gasp.

“I’ve got you,” Steve repeated as he pulled the cord tighter, until Tony’s hole was opening again, and he caught a peek of the silicon beginning to come out. He couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his lips at the sight, Tony’s pink hole straining around the bead, at his mercy. It was truly unfair how pretty Tony looked when he was like this, debauched, drenched with sweat, body straining against the toy inside of him. Struggling to give up control, but trusting Steve with it anyway.

Tony’s hips jerked as he pulled the bead to the halfway point and held it, and he let out a sound that was both plaintive and needy. His thighs strained to push himself up the bed, as if to physically move away from the cord, but they were exhausted from holding his earlier pose, so he barely moved at all. He whined, helpless, and sagged onto the mattress in defeat. “Please…”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Steve replied agreeably, as if he hadn’t expected Tony to give up eventually, and leaned in to take the head of Tony’s cock into his mouth. Tony had earned it for being such a good sport, after all.

He was immediately rewarded with another howl and Tony finding the strength to arch his back, chasing the wet heat of his mouth. Steve dipped his head further, taking Tony into his throat and swallowing around him. He traced his tongue along the vein up the side, then grasped the cord of the beads tighter and gave one final tug, jerking the last bead free with a faint pop that he only heard because of his enhanced hearing.

Tony jerked, back somehow managing to arch further, mouth opening in a silent scream as every muscle in his body locked up. Steve slid his hands under him to help hold him up as he felt Tony’s dick pulsing in his mouth, pressing closer so Tony was deeper in his throat. He swallowed around him until Tony started letting out overwhelmed little mewls, and once he felt Tony going limp in his hold, he carefully eased him back down onto the bed, pulling off his cock with a wet gasp.

“Fuck,” Tony croaked, sniffling, and then, “Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, fighting the urge to dive down and take his softening cock back into his mouth. Tony was always super sensitive after orgasm. He might find the strength to punch Steve in the face if he did that.

“Will you untie my wrists now? I’m sore,” Tony managed, then let out a long sigh from deep in his belly as Steve obediently reached up to pick the knot loose, so he could let each arm drop, limp, on either side of him, allowing his shoulders and chest to relax.

Steve ran his hand down Tony’s stomach slowly as he fiddled with the tie between his fingers. He could feel the muscles there fluttering up against his palm. His shirt was still soaked with sweat. He’d need to get that off of him before it cooled and got clammy, he thought, reaching up to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

Tony flailed a hand up and managed to smack himself on the shoulder before he managed to grasp one of Steve’s hands, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Aren’t you going to put the plug in?”

Steve blinked, surprised. He glanced down between Tony’s legs, then back up at his face, frowning. “I’m not going to hold you to that, Tony. I know I’ve already asked for a lot. I’m not going to push it. Chalk it up to teasing.”

“But… you like using the beads on me,” Tony said, sitting up a little on his elbows. He tilted his head, frowning. “I know I complain a lot, but if I really had a problem, I’d use my safe word.”

Steve couldn’t help a slightly uncomfortable shrug. Yes, he did like using the beads on Tony, liked the way he squirmed on them and gasped as each individual bead pushed into or pulled free of his semi-exhausted body. Sometimes he felt a little… embarrassed, though, about how much he enjoyed teasing Tony with the beads, watching him sweat and get desperate to come. Not enough that he’d stop completely, but… he could show restraint. Sometimes.

Tony stared at him a little longer, then leaned back, deliberately taking a moment to spread his thighs wider. “If you put the plug in, I’ll still be wet and open enough for you to just slide right in in the morning,” he said, and Steve felt like the air had been punched out of him. He slanted Steve a smug smirk before he went back to batting his eyelashes. “If you can take them out without waking me up in the morning, I’ll skip my early meeting and let you fuck me as long as you want.”

Steve was grabbing for the plug before the offer even truly registered, and he took one moment to wonder what he’d done to ever deserve Tony before he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I’m using the one with four beads.”

“You like a challenge,” Tony managed to tease before Steve carefully pressed two fingers into him and spread them. He threw his head back with an exhausted mewl, hips giving an aborted twitch upward as the first bead, much smaller than the ones on the other set, was pressed inside him. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Steve agreed, knowing he’d be staying up a few more hours to sketch the way Tony’s hole stretched under the abuse he gave it. The largest bead on the plug was half the size of the previous beads, but Tony’s hole sucked them in greedily anyway. That was one of the reasons sex was so good with Tony, though—his body was so eager, and he was so generous, it was impossible to have bad sex with him.

Tony fell limp once Steve settled the handle of the plug between his cheeks, cheeks flushed a very pretty shade of pink. “Okay,” he panted. “Now take this shirt off me.”

“Okay,” Steve answered obediently, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. He considered carrying Tony to the bathroom to rinse him off, then decided against it—he was clearly exhausted, and he didn’t want to move him too much. A quick wipe with a washcloth would have to do until he recovered a little bit. He carefully eased Tony’s limp arms out of the sleeves. “Do you want pajamas after I wipe you down, or do you just want to sleep like this?”

“You’ll never be able to cope if I sleep like this,” Tony huffed. He shivered as Steve eased him upright just enough to pull his shirt off his shoulders, toes curling as the plug shifted inside him. He sucked in a shuddering breath, then let it back out in a sigh as Steve laid him back down again. “I’ll take one of your shirts.”

“I regret to inform you that you are seriously underestimating how sexy it is when you wear my clothes,” Steve informed him flatly, but there was amusement edging his tone. He unclipped the garters from around Tony’s calves and carefully pulled his socks down and off. “Can I just cover you with a blanket?”

“If you can keep your filthy paws off me, yeah,” Tony assured him, eyelids drooping now that Steve had stopped moving him around. “If you put underwear on me, I will die.”

Steve let out a short chuckle. “You will not. If you were going to die, it would have been on that last bead.”

“I'll kill you,” Tony huffed, eyes fluttering shut, even as his hand clenched into a fist.

Steve crawled up to press a quick kiss to his lips before he sat up, turning to get off the bed. “Love you. Go to sleep.”

“I’m falling asleep because I want to, not because you told me to,” Tony groused. He spread his thighs open a little further, then let out a sigh, relaxing further into the mattress. “Love you too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Steve replied gently, heart flipping in his chest at how casual Tony had been about being vulnerable in front of him. He’d even spread his legs a little more, so he’d have a better view for the sketches he was going to do of his stuffed hole. Tony was so generous and sweet, even when he was wrung out and oversensitive.

Steve wiped him down quickly so he wouldn’t disturb him too much, then pulled his chair closer to the bed and sat down, settling his sketchbook on his lap. Tony might need the rest, but Steve knew he needed to wind down before he could settle to sleep. He couldn’t think of a more perfect way to do it.

[mirasmirages]

Fall In Line - Eight - Team

First Previous

Contains: Mind control, whipping

Henry woke up in his bed as if nothing had happened. The medical equipment made their usual whirring and beeping noises. The doctors took their usual samples. Henry was a bit sore, but that was all.

He wasn't sure if he should ask someone what happened last night. How he got back. They probably wouldn't answer him anyway. They never did.

It felt like a dream.

He could still hear the fire alarm ringing in his ears, feel the heat of the explosion on his skin.

Someone threw his costume on the bed. Skin tight and purple, with yellow patches of reinforcement. "Mr. Duncan wants to see you in his office."

Henry had been in Mr. Duncan's office a few times before. It was where he had been given his mission last night. A security guard led him through the maze of hallways and up several flights of stairs until they were outside the white doors.

Whatever Henry had been expecting when he entered that door, it was not this.

Five costumed heroes stood in a half circle in front of Mr. Duncan's desk. The red and blue heroes from yesterday. A man in blue and dark grey, a woman dressed almost entirely in black. His stomach lurched. A woman in a silver costume with blue details, her long black hair in a ponytail.

"Finally," Mr. Duncan said. "You're here. Come."

The heroes all watched him as Henry went to stand with them in the half circle.

"We're here to debrief your mission last night," Mr. Duncan said. "But first, let me introduce you to your team."

He started with the hero closest to the desk on Henry's right.

"Red Rapid, team leader and martial arts expert, with superhuman reflexes." The man in a red costume

"Silent Spark, with electric powers." The woman in blue and white.

"Wild Rage, our shapeshifter." A woman dressed almost entirely in black, with some dark green shimmering patches.

"Silver Sharp," the first hero on Henry's left. A young woman with long, dark hair in a ponytail. Her costume was blue and pale silver, similar to Silent Spark. "Can use her force field powers to attack."

And at the end on Henry's left in a grey and blue costume, "Phantom Storm," who could fly.

Henry didn't know what to make of all this. A team of heroes? Why had he never heard anything about this before? 

(Probably because no one told him anything.)

"Now," Mr. Duncan said. "Red Rapid. Walk us through what happened last night."

"Yes, sir. Henry arrived at the scene at 0:23am. The doors were unlocked, so he had no issues getting in. A few minutes later, the fire alarm went off. Henry stayed on the first floor, punching through walls to weaken the structure before placing the explosives. There were civilians in the building, and he let them leave unharmed before coming outside to blow up the building. When Silent Spark and I arrived, he took a defensive approach, easily letting himself be pushed into a corner. Thanks to the fire alarm, the fire department arrived early and we had to get out of there fast, so Silent Spark knocked him out with no problem. As far as I know, no one saw us leave."

Mr. Duncan nodded, not looking too pleased. "Silent Spark. Your thoughts?"

"I would be interested to know how the fire alarm went off. If that hadn't happened we would have had plenty of time to finish before the fire department showed up. I can't think of any reason that happened other than if Henry himself setting it off."

Mr. Duncan turned to Henry. "Henry?"

"I did. There were people in there. I didn't want them to get hurt in the explosion."

To his left, Silver Spark scoffed.

"Did I tell you to let people out of the building?" Mr. Duncan asked.

"No, but-"

"No. And you did it anyway."

"You didn't tell me not to! And there were kids there! If they hadn't gotten out they could've been killed!"

"Henry, be quiet. Red Rapid, will you take care of this?"

"Of course, sir."

The heroes all spread out to stand along the walls of he room. Only Henry and Red Rapid stayed.

"Henry," Mr. Duncan said. "Kneel."

His knees hit the floor before he could even think about it.

Red Rapid walked behind him. "Keep your hands on the floor," he said and started undoing Henry's costume, leaving it hanging off him with his back bare.

Henry put his hands on the floor in front of his knees. They were shaking. The air was cold on his back.

"How many?" Red Rapid's voice was familiar behind him. Henry didn't want to think about it.

Mr. Duncan hummed. "Ten for the pathetic display of fighting. Fifteen for pulling the fire alarm. Fifteen for letting people out."

Forty. There was silence. Henry looked at his hands.

Behind him came a swooshing noise, and the first lash landed across his upper back. Henry's scream stuck in his throat. Mr. Duncan had told him to be quiet.

Red Rapid waited for Henry to compose himself between each lash.

No one came to Henry's defense.

Henry struggled to hold hold himself up. He lasted for twenty five lashes before his elbows gave out and he collapsed forward, his head against the soft, beige carpet on the floor.

"Henry," Mr. Duncan said. "Look at me."

Henry looked at him. He could barely see Mr. Duncan over the edge of the desk.

"Get back in position. Hands on the floor. Arms straight."

Henry did. His back was screaming with every movement.

"You will stay in this exact position until we are done." Mr. Duncan looked over Henry's shoulder. "Continue."

The last fifteen lashes came faster. There was no longer enough time for Henry to remember how to breathe between each one.

Mr. Duncan sat behind his desk and looked Henry in the eyes the whole time. There was no sympathy on his face.

Henry wasn't counting. He barely noticed when it stopped, until Mr. Duncan told him they were done and he collapsed in a heap like someone had cut his strings. His back was wet with sweat or blood. Both.

Someone knelt next to him. Henry could see the dark grey and blue of his costume.

"Let's get you back to bed," Jordan said.

[sotwk]

Whag do you think about Lord of The Rings: The rings of power?

Did you watched it? If not, why? If yes, why?

Oooh! A bit of a controversial question, but one that I am happy to finally be asked, so I can give my thoughts and opinions about it. Thank you for the Ask, @estethell!!

My Thoughts on "The Rings of Power"

When I heard a new Tolkien/Middle-earth series was coming out, I was super excited about it. I watched the first two episodes the very evening it came out on Amazon. My excitement was so contagious, I even got my husband (who wouldn't know an elf from a dwarf) to sit down and watch it with me for like 5 whole minutes.

Now, the truth: my initial excitement about the series quickly dropped about four episodes in. The storyline and characterizations just weren't really what I expected (actually, I'm not even sure what my expectations were, except that they were high), and so my interest dwindled in my disappointment.

However, a few weeks later, after all the episodes had been released, I sat back down to finish the series, and my impressions of it improved overall.

I wouldn't say I love Rings of Power, but there are enough things about it that I liked and enjoyed to be able to engage with others who do love it. It's kind of like the folks who didn't like The Hobbit movies, but are able to gush over Lee Pace's Thranduil anyway.

Stuff in Rings of Power that I liked:

Liked BEST: Young Elrond, and the way he was portrayed as such a wise and kind lord by Robert Aramayo (so handsomely elf-y!).

A Close Second: Durin IV and Disa. What a wonderful couple that brought just the right amount of comic relief.

The chance to see Khazad-dum in its glory.

Poppy Proudfellow. We all need a friend like her.

The music/soundtrack, ESPECIALLY the song "This Wandering Day" Poppy sang--I literally cried when she sang it.

Arondir. He was a such sweetheart and I hope he comes back next season.

Adar. The take on orcs being corrupted elves is one I embrace.

Elendil and Isildur. Excellent acting on Lloyd Owen's part, and I liked Maxim Baldry's earnestness.

Halbrand. I'll admit, I wasn't too impressed or happy with the revelation of him as Sauron, but the character alone as it stands was actually very good, and very well portrayed by Charlie Vickers.

Stuff I didn't like so much (so probably don't ask me about them 'cause I prefer not to dwell on critiques):

Short-haired elves. Just not a fan, purely a preference thing.

Galadriel being short. This is petty and minor, but for some reason, even though Morfydd Clark did a fine job, it bugged me to see Galadriel looking UP at mortal men.

Celebrimbor cast as an older man. So sorry, Charles Edwards is a lovely actor, but this was far from what I had in mind for the character.

Eärien. Normally I will give OCs a chance, but I did not like this one. Felt really unnecessary, and the screen time should have been given to Anárion, wherever he might be.

The poor armor design and nerfing of the Numenorean army.

Portrayal of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Again, I expected much more.

The origin story of mithril. Such a strange choice.

WAY, WAAAAAAY too much CGI. Why is everything so shiny??

Overall low/poor production value. But honestly, there is never gonna be another production like Peter Jackson's trilogy. It's sad, but filmmakers just don't do that anymore. I hope someone proves me wrong.

I remain conflicted about the following:

The Haladriel ship. I'm a Celeborn fan (I have some lovely HCs about him and his ties to Thranduil), and I ship Galadriel with him. However, the way Halbrand looks at Galadriel just does something to me, so even though I'm not sold, my mind is open to it as an AU. I blame Charlie Vickers being such a charming rogue.

The Elf-Human love story. Arondir and Bronwynn were sweet and convincing, and I did swoon for them, but... this is just so overdone already. Couldn't we have just featured other kinds of relationships?

The revised origin of Gandalf. I kind of get it, and I appreciate the relationship between him and the Hobbit progenitors... but it's kind of also weird.

Halbrand as Sauron. I plan on withholding judgement until I see where they are going with this in Season 2.

Overall Rating and Conclusion:

62% fresh SotWK Tomato Rating

I choose to just be HAPPY and GRATEFUL that we have another cinematic adaptation to the Tolkien fandom, however flawed it might be.

Definitely looking forward to Season 2 and I will definitely watch it.

Positive vibes ONLY, please! I am happy to publicly post and gush with others about the good points of RoP. But I will not have public bashing of things other fans might love and enjoy. I am very against crapping on the things others love, even if I might hate them myself.

If anyone wants to discuss the things I dislike about RoP, we can do it via DM or private Asks.

Everyone has a right to enjoy whatever they want in this show; let's just all respect each others' differences in tastes and opinions! <3

[skyward-floored]

A piece of paper with most of a coffee ring on it reads in smudged writing: “One of the boys uses their power to quietly save a civilian?”

I had the hardest time picking which boy to do lol, but I finally wrote something out for this :)

———

Wind walked at the back of the group with Four beside him, the two looking around as they followed the rest of their family out of the shopping center.

Wind didn’t like shopping much. Especially since despite how his parents tried to hide it he knew money was a little tight. But several of them had needed new school supplies for the year, so here they were.

In the boring shopping center.

Wind sighed. At least they were finally finished and going home now. They’d been here for what felt like ages and he’d looked at way too many pairs of shoes. At least his parents seemed happy with what they’d got.

“If one more person says how cute we are I’m gonna scream,” Four said grumpily from next to him, and Wind giggled, then shrugged.

“I don’t know, I think it’s nice. At least if they’re staring at us they’re leaving Wild alone,” he pointed out. Somebody always asked their brother him what happened with his scars, and he hated that.

Four folded his arms. “Yeah... I guess. Still, I’m five! That’s too old to be cute,” he said crossly, blowing some hair out of his face.

Wind just shrugged. Four was a cute kid no matter how much it bothered him, but Wind didn’t want to argue with him over the point. For being only five, he sure was good at winning arguments.

He turned his attention to the parking lot then, dutifully sticking by his parents’ sides when they crossed the road. Four held Twilight’s hand, and Wind found his attention drawn to farther down the street, where a woman had just exited a different store.

She had a huge pile of shopping bags in her arms, barely balancing them all as she walked down the sidewalk, and if that wasn’t enough, she was also digging through her purse and barely watching where she was going.

Wind watched her, a little amused at her absentmindedness, then frowned as he realized she was headed straight for a street corner. And still not paying any attention to where she was going, despite the heavy traffic. Wind looked around for any way to make the woman look up, but she probably wouldn’t hear him if he yelled, and nobody else walking by her seemed to notice just how distracted she was.

Four tugged on his sleeve and pointed, having noticed her as well, and Wind nodded, still looking around for some way to help as the woman stepped onto the street. Nothing jumped out at him, and a car came barreling around the corner right towards the woman, definitely going too fast to stop in time.

Four gasped and Wind didn’t even glance around to make sure nobody was looking as he thrust his hands out.

A gust of wind rushed towards the woman and thre her and her bags forward, just barely getting her out of the way of the car.

The woman fell to the ground, bags spilling everywhere, and her face was shocked as she finally looked up and realized how close she’d just come to being hit by the car. A few people who’d seen what had happened helped her up and started to gather her bags, and Wind sighed in relief as the woman stood up, looking shaken, but unhurt.

That had been really close.

“Nice job,” Four whispered, and Wind returned the smile he gave him, glancing anxiously around the parking lot. There were a lot of people around, but he was pretty sure nobody had seen him.

At least, he really hoped so.

“Did anyone see me?” he asked his brother, still looking furtively around.

“Don’t think so. Nobody’s pointing at you or yelling anyway,” Four said as he also looked around. “Good thing too. Mom and dad would kill you if they’d seen.”

Wind sighed in relief, and he and Four caught up to the rest of their family as they put their bags into the back of their car. The woman was safe, nobody had seen him, and he hadn’t accidentally exposed himself and forced their family to move again.

Wind looked up as his father walked past him to the driver’s seat, then froze when he looked him directly in the eye, a stern look on his face.

Oh no, he’d seen!

But then Time gave him just a hint of a proud smile, and Wind relaxed, returning it with a smile of his own.

[lumyart]

Finally caught up with golden memories, just a thought: Rhaenyra is so dumb 😭😭 like she’s not actually but she is yknow? “What if the babies are watching us have sex?” First of all, BABIES PLURAL they’re both so happy they’re having too beans instead of one 😩 who told you you’re allowed to turn my heart into mush?? Second of all, Rhaenyra getting sad that Alicent said they’re babies don’t have super powers 😭😭 like I know everyone kept saying Rhaenyra was Ken but oh my god she IS truly Ken, Rhaenyra and Ken are one it’s so fucking funny 💀💀💀

Anyways, Alicent is also dumb because what do you MEAN? You can’t allow yourself to live your best friend y’all already fucked and are having children together and the mere thought of each other makes you all warm and fuzzy and like, Alicent Knows Rhaenyra has feelings for her but she’s like “sigh it’s doomed I can’t have nice things 😔” GIRL WHAT?? They’re so stupid it’s exhausting

I love this! Can’t wait for the next chapter, keep it up author! ✨

oh yeah we weren't kidding about Rhaenyra being ken😭 she's actually pretty smart though, but when it comes to Alicent and her babies she's completely different and irrational😭

also, Alicent was kinda rude for implying their babies wouldn't have superpowers because what if they do? they should already support them now in case it ever happens, gotta make sure they're born aware of how loved they are - even if they have super hearing or some unexpected trait!!! totally not nice of you Alicent..

the difference is that Alicent is stupid but believes herself to be smart haha

thank you so much for the support<33 i'm trying to finish paper rings right now but will get back to golden melodies soon🥰🥰!

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 129

Let’s rock.

Last episode, Goku was the only one left standing against Jiren, and he was completely helpless, but then, before Jiren could finish him off, he tapped into Ultra Instinct for a third time.  Now the fight has taken a new turn, and it looks like Goku finally stands a chance.

Like I said about some of the recent episodes, the animation and fight choreography are spectacular, and much of the runtime is just awesome, high-speed, full-impact fighting, which I’m not really equipped to show in this “text with still images” format.  I should try giffing some of this stuff one of these days, but the point is that you’ll just have to see it for yourself.  YouTube has plenty of clips floating around.  

The problem is that Goku’s Ultra Instinct power makes him strong enough to stand up to Jiren, but he’s still weak on offense.  That’s because using UI to attack is especially hard to master.  Goku’s trained his whole life to carefully analyze and guage his opponents’ strength when deciding how to attack, and that thought process disrupts the whole “autonomous” part of Autonomous Ultra Instinct.   But he had this problem while fighting Kefla in Episode 116, and he worked around it by using his UI dodging powers to get close enough to fire a Kamehameha.  Here, we see him try the same trick again, but Jiren’s got him scouted.  

After all, Jiren’s been keeping an eye on Goku, and he watched Episode 116 like everyone else. So he blocks the Kamehameha and fires back with his own attack.  Goku only survives by redirecting the Kamehameha into a ki barrier to protect himself.  I’m guessing this is more UI magic, since I don’t think we’ve ever seen Goku do anything like this before.

But Goku’s still in deep trouble if all he can do is block.  Sooner or later, Jiren will wear down his defenses and eliminate him.  Belmod declares victory, saying that Goku’s incomplete Ultra Instinct won’t be enough.  Then Vegeta calls him out for such a foolish statement.  Obviously, if Goku can complete his incomplete Ultra Instinct, then he’ll be able to turn the tables, so why should Belmod be so confident that he can’t?  Throughout the Tournament of Power, every Saiyan competitor has pushed beyond their limits.  Goku making it this far is just the latest example, but Cabba and Caulifla learned Super Saiyan 2, Kale learned to control her Super Saiyan form, and Vegeta pioneered a whole new transformation from scratch.  At least six of the Universe 11 team have been eliminated by a Saiyan, which says a lot. 

I mean, sure, Goku could flame out at any moment, but why would Belmod dare to take that for granted, after everything he’s seen?

And Belmod knows Vegeta has a point, so he calls out to Jiren, commanding him to finish Goku off now while he still can.  I just can’t get over this guy being a literal fucking clown.  I dig the character, but I’ll stop and look at this guy and thing “What were they thinking...?”

Anyway, Vegeta calls out to Goku and tells him to get gud and win, because Vegeta entrusted his promise to him and all that jazz. 

And that seems to get Goku back in the game, but is that enough? 

I mean, they start fighting some more, but how is this any different from before?

According to Whis, it is different.  He says he can feel the... something that Goku has achieved to make Ultra Instinct truly work.  It’s a prettier speech, but the point is that Whis can sense the change.  Goku’s completely blocked out all other diversions in his mind, and he can focus solely on his fight.

But Jiren isn’t letting up.  He manages to get Goku onto one of those fragments of the ring, then fires down on him from above.  So Goku’s standing on that black speck in the middle of that brightly colored triangle, which is Jiren’s barrage.  Goku can shield himself and the rock he’s standing on, but he can’t do anything else without eating a hit.  And if he the rock gets destroyed, Goku can’t reach any other places to stand, so he’ll be eliminated for sure.

Everyone worries about this predicament, but then they notice sparks above Goku’s field, and they realize that he’s not just blocking Jiren’s offensive, but mounting a counterattack of his own. 

Then he just jumps straight up and....

Bam!  Jiren takes one right in the titty!

He ain’t even mad, because Goku finally managed to hit him all by himself. 

But Belmod wants this fight finished, so Jiren readies a ki blast to end it, but then....

Goku’s suddenly behind Jiren, and he stole his little ki blast thing!  No fair!

The gods of Destruction all start to stand up, and it’s because they know what they’re seeing here.  Beerus asks Whis anyway, just to be clear, and Whis confirms it. 

Goku’s glowing white and he’s stylin’ all over Jiren now.  There could be only one explanation.  This is Autonomous Ultra Instinct, the full thing, the real deal, the whole enchilada.

And he’s got the same weird eye thing going on as Vegeta’s Royal Blue form.  Not a big fan of that. 

Here’s KISS with “I”

[game-boy-pocket]

Well I woke up and after a little bit of rest, I finally managed to beat that final boss. It only took a few more tries, and I learned that you can damage him using a few of the Emerald Powers, but you can only get in maybe two hits, three if you're very lucky.

I still maintain this boss is a bullshit difficulty spike. And for some reason, I frequently had problems where my rings would just fall through the floor, or even stranger, instead of being able to pick them up, they would just bounce off of me.

The boss wasn't even particularly interesting or different either, there was no creative spin unless you count an animation that happens between phases and even that would be a stretch.

I also learned the hard way that ending isn't different if you have all the Emeralds, meaning I beat him, endured some very long credits, made sure to get the last emerald I needed, and then challenged the final level and final boss again, with no difference.

It did unlock a new mode in the game. Seems to be an homage to playing as Knuckles in Sonic 3, where the game is a fair bit harder, the routes are a little different, and the bosses have new tricks. So it looks like I have more game left, but I think i'm gonna hold off until another month to finish up.

I bought the Switch version, and it playd fine, except when I had speed shoes. Then the framerate tanked. Also a few textures were pretty blurry. But I don't care. I maybe should have gotten it on Steam, but I wanted a physical release.

This sounds like a lot of negative but make no mistake, this is a really fun Sonic game. Some people are saying it's not as good as Mania, and maybe they're right, but I dunno, I like this a lot more than Mania just by virtue of it being a fully original game instead of a series of throwback levels and remakes of levels... there's musical throwbacks to be sure. But nothing too obnoxious... I just wish this wasn't another case of Jun Sunuoe trying too hard to sound like Sega Genesis and only ever getting the drums right.

This is the first Sonic game in a long time to actually feel like a game with a focus on platforming. And that's what I've wanted out of 2D Sonic for a long time. Mania had that too but with more emphasis on speed than platforming, at least that's how I feel.

It made me very happy to see Fang in this game. He doesn't have as many appearances as he did in Sonic Triple Trouble, but his appearances feel a lot more impactful this time. I really hope he sticks around, maybe even brings Bark and Bean with him.

I like the design of Trip. Spoiler alert, but you do eventually get to see without the mask. I won't spoil the species but I was very happy to be pretty close to guessing. I don't think they developed her enough. I feel like these games kind of suffer from Sega refusing to do voice acting, because I really don't understand what Trip is even doing in the story. I probably wouldn't have understood Knuckle's whole deal either in Sonic 3 if supplemental material didn't clear it up, but it's not the 90's anymore, we shouldn't need supplemental material for the story to be cohesive. I'm not asking this game to be obnoxious like Sonic Heroes, just a few voice lines in the beginning, ending, and the one or two key story moments later on. Even text boxes would have been better than like... two seconds of pantomime.

Anyway... I hate sounding negative, I do love this game, it's just easier to vocalize what I wish was better about it than what I already love about it, and I feel like it's more important to spotlight the things that will be a problem than the things that will just be fine and provide a lot of fun.

Mario is out in a few more days... so i'm gonna cool off on this game or a while, and catch up on my Halloween watching.

[handdrawnfantasma]

i got tagged by @monstrousmoonshine (ty!!) to self-rec 5 of my fave fics wot i have wrote so... here we go :')

1. "what if final fantasy x but with the magnus archives characters" aka the result of miri asking 'i had a mental image of jon doing the Sending and where's my jonmartin ffx au' aka clutching a map of dreams, the fic that has taken up the better part of the past 2 yrs and 8 months of my life. if you like tma and you also like fantasy epics like lord of the rings this is the fic for you. (i mean this very literally because the final word count pretty much equals that of LOTR lmao)!! Martin is swept away by a mysterious kaiju death monster into a stagnant future where things have gone Horribly Wrong and crosses paths with Jon who is a summoner tasked to go on a pilgrimage to somehow calm the aforementioned kaiju death monster. JRPG adventures, the world's saddest hiking trip, slowburn romance, found family and MANY revelations about why the world is the way it is ensue, also featuring the author wrestling with the concepts of sacrifice and responsibility and blame and where those all intersect with The Greater Good(tm) and how people's intent to do good or to atone for real or imagined wrongs can be manipulated by others and twisted to other purposes. there are only 6 updates to go until the fic is over so now is a good time to jump in and binge it. if u wanna [ eyes emoji ] honestly this is the first time i've even attempted to write something this long let alone FINISHED it and if i do say so myself i did a good job making sure that the plot made sense and that all the foreshadowing and callbacks/call forwards paid off. i also managed to fit SO MANY tma character cameos in there and some nice parallels to tma canon events as well as expanding on the FFX lore itself so like. im Very Proud of this one haha

2. the variant of soft hanahaki as envisioned by isa and myself and a few of our other friends back on plurk has lived in my brain rent-free for years and so of course i was going to inflict it on jon and martin. milk vetch is a short fic that takes place in the middle of TMA season 3, in a world where unspoken love (whether that be romantic, platonic, or otherwise) causes you to cough up (mostly harmless) flowers until you get over yourself and tell whoever it is that you love them. i had a LOT of fun with jon's POV in this one, his exhaustion and self-deprecation, and i also had a LOT of fun with the concept of the Beholding dropping a dictionary of flower symbolism into his head whenever he so much as looks at a hanahaki flower. it was also interesting to explore like... the psychology/reasoning behind NOT telling someone you love them even when the evidence is Right There, just going full magic realism with it all.

3. not to have never been is a fic taking place in the 13th doctor era sunless skies au that i've been building with kite for about a year and a half! 13 is a sky-captain, the fam are her officers, and this fic is about them getting caught in a weft of unravelling time and struggling to get Out without dying or losing themselves. i'm rly proud of this one because i managed to mix the episodic nature of a bottle episode of dr who (think 42 or Tsuranga) with the Sunless Skies ambience, and switching between 5 different 3rd-person limited POVs really let me play with allowing the voice of the character to permeate the narration which is a LOT of fun. i'm also proud of a couple of the cool things i managed to do with the structure here (having an Ice section followed by a Fire section and then a Dark section followed by a Light section) and some of the hints i laid down for the backstory of a few of the characters...

i actually only have 1 more of my fics to rec for this LMAO and it is still unfinished BUT in the spirit of the meme i'm gonna rec it anyway bc WIPs are still worth reading:

4. spydoc the locked tomb au, aka the result of me watching the power of the doctor last year and immediately losing my mind over the fact that dhawan!master basically reinvented lyctorhood. spydoc are a necro-cav pair from the Fifth House and this tragedy is going exactly where you think it is going (also featuring me straining the torvic affair thru a 13-shaped sieve and then re-straining it thru a tlt-shaped sieve, state-sanctioned codependency, and canon-typical memes, ruth!doctor and yaz are also going to feature when i get back to writing this thing). if you, too, are haunted by all the ways dhawan!master ends up emulating + recreating all of the worst excesses of gallifrey's founders despite the fact that he despises them so much and love trainwrecks as much as i do then u should read this and yell at me to finish it

tagging @birdybirdnerd bc i kno u write a lot BUT if anyone else wants to pick this meme up then pls do, we should all be more insufferable about our own work LMAO

[madmarchhare]

Company Chapter 3: sci-fi story

Here is the third chapter of my sci-fi story, the one featuring Wick and Cass, the scavenger and the Pirate.

It's a bit shorter than chapter 2, cause I wanted it done before Christmas.

Speaking of, merry Christmas to all of you reading this! Hope you have a lovely time! Hope you enjoy the story, I would love to hear what you think of it down in the notes!

III

                Wick flew the ship away from the station, having put the shotgun back into its cabinet in the airlock. When they got outside their perimeter, Wick set the thing to autopilot, into some abandoned corner of space as he went back into the living room where Cass was sat, fiddling with the new watch on her wrist, wiping off some blood splatters from it’s surface. He walked over to the six pack of IPA and pulled out a can as he watched one of the Lauxes running across the top of the cabinets as two more stared down from a light fixture at the pair unseen.

“So, which station are you getting your new ship from?” Wick asked, opening the can with one hand pulling up a chair from the table and flopping down in it facing Cass. She looked up from cleaning her watch, placing the cloth into one of the cabinets and leaning back on the small sofa she was sat on.

“I was thinking Las Paz station, you know the one a few sectors from Dutch’s place? The one set up around that ice giant, the greenish one with five rings,” Cass replied, leaning froward as she asked her question.

“I’ve heard of it yeah, but I’ve never been. I don’t like to linger in that sector, the storms make me uneasy,” Wick replied scratching his neck slightly, “I really only go when Dutch needs something from me, an’ that’s not been a while.”

“It’ll be fine, the area around Las Paz is really calm compared to the rest of the sector so you won’t have to worry,” Cass replied jovially, shifting over to open the fridge and pull out a bottle of something, taking a heavy swig then coughing heavily, banging a fist on her chest as she looked down at the label with watery eyes, “god that’s sweet,” she wheezed out as she started down at the bottle of apricot brandy. She smacked her lips for a second, believe it or not greater Neidr’s could do it, then took a smaller swig from the bottle and turn back to Wick who was looking at her with a somewhat amused expression.

“Do you think we should be worried about that guy though?” Cass added jerking her thumb back in the rough direction of St Edmund, “he did say they wouldn’t let us go, whoever they fuck they are,” taking another mouthful of brandy as she finished.

“I don’t think it’s something to be too concerned about. They all say stuff like that when they go. How many people have claimed the same thing?” Wick replied, leaning back in his chair as he staired up at the ceiling, spotting the pair of lauxes on the lamp staring down at him.

“Hmm, fair point, just had a feeling,” Cass replied, mostly to herself.

“Never ignore a feeling, it’s smart to worry about it, I just don’t think it’s going to be much of a problem. After all, how many people can they even have to send after us?” Wick finished sardonically, finally pulling himself up from his chair, Cass looking up at him as he got up. “Anyway, I’ll set the course for Las Paz station, I’ll probably pick up some supplies from there too. I’m a bit low on more than a few things,” Wick called back as he strode into the cockpit, rubbing his tired eyes as he did.

“Alright,” Cass called back, the sounds of her standing up mingling with her shout, “is the Rec room still working by the way? You mentioned you were having trouble with it,” she asked as she walked past the door, Wick turning his head to her in the chair.

“Yeah it’s working. Just turn the dial on the door till it clicks, that should turn the power on,”  he replied in a monotone sort of voice, then turning back to the console, entering in the name of the station to one of the computers.

“Thanks!” She called back as she left to descend further into the ship. The computer found the station after a while, but Wick had to manually plot the course, as they trip was too long for it to do safely, along with various areas Wick wanted to avoid on the way. He got up from his chair then pressed the enter key on the keyboard, feeling the ship rumble forward underfoot as the engines kicked back into life. He left the cockpit and strode though the living room into the corridor opposite, then turning down the stairs across from his room, the metal skeletons clinking under his feet as eh clattered down them into the lower level of the ship. It was lit dimly by orange lights, boxes stuffed together on the walls in frames, held back by dirty brown netting or strapped down onto the floor. He ducked under a thick pipe that fell down into the path, noticing the frost that had collected on the steel tubes as he did. He turned and ducked into a small room to the side of the small storage room-slash-corridor. It was a smallish room, set in darkness until Wick licked on a switch on the wall making a long tube light flicker into life illuminating the room in a dull grey colour.

It was Wick’s office. Where he kept all his records and files, along with his more valuable assets. It had a large desk attached to the wall in a ‘C’ shape. It was covered with various boxes and files, all stuffed into whatever space there was on the able or wall, or hanging from shelves under the table. On the table, in front of a tired yellow chair that matched the one in cockpit, was an IBM PC AT, the 5170 with a 5154 EGA monitor stacked on top of it. A model-M keyboard was placed in front of it along with a matching mouse  and a wheel printer to the left. Various software packs were lined up neatly on a shelf above the system, along with a bin of blank 5 ½’ and 3 ¼’ floppy disks, the system pack being placed next to the monitor on top of the PC. Wick sat down in the chair, flicking his eyes over to a, comparatively more modern monitor connected up to a V2000 he used for CCTV. He flicked through a set of five channels, each of them split into four views, around the ship, looking for anything suspicious. He didn’t see anything, bar from Cass shouting at a games console as she struggles with some random platformer game, and the Lauxes moving around the ship a few even waving to Wick seemingly through the cameras.  

Wick paused after this, blinking for a second as he rubbed his eyes. He turned back to the computer and turned it on, the orange switch clunking firmly as he did. It whirred to itself as it loaded up MS-DOS from the hard-drive. When it did he reached up for one of the system packs, specifically the one that contained a spreadsheet software, and then slotted in a and loaded in the disk. He was down there for a few hours, checking inventory for his ship, how much money he had left, the fuel he had used, reading out some of the information from a VFD display he had wired up to the cockpit. By the time he was done, and had printed off what he wanted and filed it, he felt exhausted. He saved the spreadsheet he had made then shut the computer off. He would look over the CCTV later, or he decided he would at least. He walked out, having switched off the light part way through, to avoid the glare it caused on the screen of the old monitor.

He wandered up the corridor the steps and pulled himself up them. Cass was in the top bunk when he came in, her tail and one leg falling out of her bunk over the entrance to Wick’s. He took off his jacket and boots, changing into a T-shirt he’d left handing on a pole by the door then lifted up Cass’s tail with one arm and flopped down into his bunk, turning off the light. As he did he heard Cass tiredly mumble out, “mmh, -hank yu,” not quite waking up.

“’S no problem,” Wick replied, turning over in his bunk and falling asleep, closing his aching eyes as he smacked his unbrushed mouth. He fell asleep a short while after that, listening to the dull sounds of the ship’s engines. They both were asleep for almost ten hours, the ship carrying them closer and closer to their destination all the while. Cass was the first one to wake up, finding herself on the floor of Wick’s quarters, laying on her tail. She looked up bleary eyed in the darkness, groaning slightly, assuming she’d fallen out of the top bunk. She pulled herself up to her feet, feeling a crick in her neck from her impromptu bed and looked down at Wick as she pinched the bridge of her snout.

She decided to let him have a bit more sleep, see if he could finally drop off the bags under his eyes, and walked out of the room into the corridor, going to go into the living room. Not that it made much difference, as just as she walked into the corridor, a blaring alarm droned throughout the ship, making her jump. Wick rolled himself out of bed, leaving his jacket in his quarters and striding barefoot over to the cockpit, squeezing past Cass. When he got there he leant over his chair to squint at the monitors, looking for what was wrong.

“What is it?” Cass asked, walking into the cockpit, Wick turning around to look at her and noticing she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Why don’t you have a shirt on?” Wick asked tiredly, a slightly confused look on his face. Cass looked down at herself, wearing a questioning look to Wick.

“I took it off to sleep, not that it actually needs to cover anything,” Cass replied, walking further into the cockpit.

“You should put a shirt on,” Wick replied monotonously, turning back to the monitors, tapping something into a keyboard and working a few dials.

“Why? It’s quite freeing to have it off sometimes, let’s my scales breathe,” Cass replied cheekily, flopping down onto her chair.

“Cause we’re about to go through and ice storm, and you’ll get cold,” Wick replied flatly, not bothering to turn around.

Cass stopped, suddenly having a considering expression, “ah,” she suddenly replied in a considering voice looking around her for something before spotting a red blanket that she wrapped around herself like a stole and then proudly announcing, “there, perfect!” cocking her head back proudly, leaning back in her chair with a smug expression.

“Sure, why not,” Wick replied tiredly, pulling a plastic crate out from under the control panel and pulling a pair of socks and plimsols from it, tugging them onto his feet as he leant them on the console.

“Why do you have that tattoos on your foot by the way?” Cass asked, glancing at the odd shaped pattern on Wick’s right foot, just below the ankle. Wick glanced down at it as he was pulling his sock onto that foot, a bored expression on his face.

“I got drunk with some people when I was younger, I blacked out and one of them had the idea to take me to a tattoo place and got it done on my ankle, then left me there. They tired to leave me with the bill as well, but the artist chased him up on it after I woke up. Never found out what it means, if anything,” Wick finished, slipping on the second shoe as he did.

“Did you get your payback on the guy?” Cass asked, a note of curiosity in her voice.

“Nah, didn’t get a chance, the guy he worked for got into a turf war and he got rubbed out. They made a big show of it too, strung him up on one of the power poles… The crows hardly left anything for the cops to come and take to the morgue when they finally came,” Wick replied nonchalantly turning back to the console. “Anyway, I’m going to take us into the storm now. It’s a bit strong but we should be fine, just watch the temperature and don’t touch the pipes, or walls.”

“Alright,” Cass replied, still clutching her blanket as she stood up, “I’m ging to get something for breakfast, you want anything?”

“…Some of those toast-able waffles and some orange juice,” Wick responded idly, staring out through the cockpit screen, staring out into the great white and blue expanse of storm ahead of him. Cass nodded and went back into the living room, a laux walking into the cockpit on the wall of the corridor past her as she went. Wick twitched the controls every so often, adjusting the ships course through the storm, flicking his eyes to the monitors, checking for anything coming in close.

Ice storms were a terrifying sight. Great maelstroms of dry ice that swirled around in a field of unusual gravity and pressure differentials caused by the extreme cold of the self manufactured atmosphere of sub zero gases. Great icebergs of ice danced through the space, either rough faces of stone like ice filled with iron and gas pockets or brilliantly clear shapes that dazzled like diamonds when the frozen fingers of light from nearby stars broke into the storms. A few attempts had been made in the past to set up bases in these storms, to mine the frozen asteroids for resources or simply to use them as highly defendable structure. But all of them had failed horribly, the mangled corpses of ships and their crew being ground up by the frozen jaws of the storms, pointless ventures bringing pointless deaths. At least, that is what most people had been told. As Wick’s ship descended further into the space the ship let out a protesting groan, the sudden snap of cold upsetting the craft greatly.

Cass walked back in from the living room, carrying a plate of waffles and packet of orange juice, tossing a mini scotch egg into her mouth. She walked over to Wick and placed the plate next to him then went back to her chair, placing her bowl beside her as she did. Wick quickly snatched up the waffle and stuffed it into his mouth, “thank you,” he stated brusquely. Cass gave a nod, smiling slightly. She let her eyes wander around the cockpit as she continued eating her breakfast. The cockpit was a rough but cosy space. The area around her seat featured, of course, that, a desk and an old Apple monitor, wired into a comparatively modern mouse and keyboard displaying a diagram of the ship, annotated with various temperatures and pressures for parts of the ship. The opposite side of it was covered with various things, form pressure valves, nixie-tubes, CRTs plasma screens or whatever Wick could find stuffed into and on the wall.  Wires and pipes sprawled across the wall in certain intervals, pinned to the wall by electrical tape or steel brackets across the mismatched wall panels which were covered in ancient patina of odd splotches of paint. The ceiling was made of a steel mesh, like you would find on the floor of a catwalk, a large pipe jutting down from it as it seemed to avoid a large metal box and stung from it were a pair of tubular lights cable tied to the mesh. Finally at the front of the room was the console, where Wick was sat, a large self hewn slab made from various old monitors, circuit boards, calculators and old abandoned implements that Wick had assembled himself, linked to various monitors and panels hung from the ceiling around the great slab of plexiglass that the room stared out of.

It was a marvel to look at, every piece hand fitted and adjusted to work exactly how it was supposed to. But, that didn’t make it look any better sadly. As Cass looked up at the cockpit ceiling she noticed that the large pipe was beginning to become frosty, the ice dripping as it met the warmer air. “Wick,” Cass suddenly asked, turning to him with a note of concern, “have you still not sealed all the environmental plates yet?” staring up at the pipe with a look of growing concern.

“I can’t find the plates, they all come in standardised shapes to fit with the Nakarta protocol, and if you cut them to fit they don’t work that well. As long as I watch the temperatures it’ll be fine,” Wick replied, pausing as he twisted the ship through the shifting titans of ice.

“Are you sure though?” Cass asked, cocking her head as she looked at the growing ice crystals on the pipe.

“Look at the monitor next to you, as long as the readings on that stay above 160 Kelvin we’ll be fine,” Wick called back glancing over to her as he spoke. Cass turned over to look at the monitor, seeing the various reading it displayed. They were all numbers jerking about 175-200 Kelvin, approx. -100oc, which was not comforting by any means. Cass watched the monitor for a while, occasionally glancing over to Wick or having to grab onto the desk when he twisted the craft out of the way of some titan of ice. Then the monitor suddenly changed display, showing a white blip in the centre on a light blue screen being rapidly approached by a large red mass.

“Uh, Wick? Something’s heading for us!” Cass called out nervously, turning over to him.

“What? Where?” Wick snapped, flicking his eyes to one of the radar monitors above him, seeing the approaching mass then checking another monitor.

“From the left side, the monitor’s showing it as bright red!”

“Ohh Fuck!” Wick shouted, grabbing the controls and jerking them to the side, “it’s a superheated asteroid!” panic rearing in his voice, which was rapidly justified when the think raced past them coming up from under their right side and storming past covered in billowing fire and combusting gases as it melted through the ice storm, evaporating away everything it its path. As it went by the entire ship seemed to scream out as the right side of the ship was suddenly superheated, the reading on the monitors suddenly jumping up to over 300 Kelvin for the right side of the ship. A screaming snap suddenly echoed through the cockpit from deep within the ship just as it jerked to the right as well, throwing Cass from her chair and nearly doing the same for Wick.

“What happened?!” Cass cried out over a now blaring siren, the main console flashing a sickly yellow colour as she pulled herself back up to her feet as the ship listed underneath her.

Wick pulled himself back up straight in his seat then stared down at the panel anxiously, “the fucking right fuel pipe blew!” he shouted, switching off a switch under the flashing yellow light which promptly turned a solid glow. “The right engine is dead, we’re only getting thrust from the left so we can’t fly straight,” Wick snapped out, concern in his voice as he seemed to struggle against the controls, “I need you to fix the pipe, it burst in one of the rear corridors so you should be able to reach it, if not there should be a crowbar to pry off a panel or two!”

“Why can’t you do it?!” Cass shouted grabbing the side of the door frame to hold herself up.

“Because I’m trying to not let us shatter against a giant space iceberg!” Wick screamed to her, throwing a gesture out through the cockpit window to the swirling mass of ice rocks who were jostling about, disturbed by the molten rock that had stormed through their frozen tempest. Cass looked through the window for a second, her voice suddenly becoming very calm.

“Good point, I’ll do that then,” and turned through the door, running down the corridor, grabbing a welding torch from a rack as she went past, being slammed against the wall as Wick wrestled the ship through the storm, a horrible screeching noise of ice on steel accompanying it and accelerating her pace as a pair of Lauxes ran after her, seeming to think it was a game. She sprinted down the narrow corridor, throwing open the narrow panel that separated it half way. She saw the burst pipe a few meters away from her, split open like a jagged maw as a loose panel skidded around on the floor around it. The floor was damp with fuel, choking the air with fumes. When Cass got up to it, the ship seemed to skip, making her grab onto some pipe for support, hissing as her scales contacted the sub-zero steel. There was a hammer hanging from a hook just above the pipes which she tugged off and pounded at the splayed bits of steel pipe with the force them back into place.

“Cass! Can you hurry up?!” Wick called over a speaker from behind her, his voice agitated.

“Give me a sec!” Cass called back tossing away the hammer and trying to light the welding torch, pulling a pair of glassed off the back of the gas bottle and putting them on. She kept trying to light it but it wouldn’t take, as she stared down at it furiously as she tried to get the infernal thing to light.

“Cass,”

“Give me a second!”

“Cass!”

“I’ve nearly got it!” she shouted back still failing to light the thing as one of the Lauxes played at her feet, her face twisting in annoyance, gritting her teeth.

“CASS!”

“I get it!” She snapped back , throwing down her arms in frustration then seeing the Laux and grabbing it, pulling it up close to her face with its face pointed toward the pipe. “Fire!” she called out, her voice half exited half anxious as the small creature suddenly fired off a powerful laser onto the steel pipe, the metal melting underneath it and sealing back up around the split as she slowly dragged the beam across the pressed walls of steel. As soon as she was finished she dashed over to a valve on the pipe and threw it open, “Done!” she called out, tossing her head back in the direction of the speaker. Just as the words left her mouth she felt the ship suddenly dive to the right and down, feeling her stomach press against the back of her mouth as Wick plunged the ship down into the storm, which seemed to whistle as it went faster and faster through the frozen atmosphere.

Wick weaved and twisted the ship through the ice, only just having avoided a near continental size of ice just as the engines came on. He threw the ship’s engines into full, the fuel pumps whining through the ship as the stuffed the liquid down the pipes. He darted his eyes to some of the close camera monitor’s, the radar pointless at this speed as by the time it spotted something he’d have either passed it or hit it. He was relying solely on his vison, adjusting the controls to thread the needle with the scrapheap of thread. The temperature dropped further as he went down, hoping to take a shortcut through the storm, not trusting the fuel pipes to hold any longer in the cold, to say nothing of he ship in general. The lights flickered and flashed in the cockpit and one or two monitors defaulted into static, the screens going out of alignment and scrolling across themselves or simply going dark along with section of the control panel. He heard Cass shout to him from the living room, but he wasn’t listening, half the lights in the cockpit bursting and sending sparks showing over him along with shards of glass as he stared out into the frozen minefield that whizzed past him, a manic smile pulled across his face, his ears ringing as blood rushed through his mind. The frame of the ship cried out in agony as the temperature plummeted, the deadly choir joined by blaring sirens and klaxons of every comer of the ship, Wick’s face lit by the rainbow of warning lights as Cass shouted to him again, grabbing at his shoulder, panic the only thing discernible to his deafened ears.

And then they escaped it. Racing out of the arctic maelstrom at top speed, pulling powered dry ice after it along with twin tails of frozen gasses a far length away from the storm before Wick slowed the ship to a stop, falling slack in his chair. The ship flashed at him, the alarms fading into to silence as the temperatures around the ships normalised. Cass looked down at him disbelievingly, opening her mouth to shout at Wick, to demand an explanation and an apology, but then Wick jumped from his seat, clutching a hand to his mouth and rushed into the living room, hanging himself over the sink as he was promptly sick into it, coughing as he spat away the last of it, turning back to Cass as he leant on the sink edge, his face noticeably pale.

“I am not doing that again. I didn’t want to do it this time,” he suddenly babbled out, his voice quavering slightly as he rubbed his brow with him palm, breathing out shakily, “this, this! This is why I don’t like this sector! This is why I don’t come here, cause I end up having to fly Heim’s personal fucking hell!” he snapped to no-one in particular, his voice stiffening back up as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a rectangular bottle covered in masking tape and Cyrillic, draining almost two-thirds of it’s contents as he flopped down into one of the chairs, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, the lights flickering slower and slower as Cass looked down at him, frazzled and just as panicked. Wick held out the bottle and Cass took it appreciatively, pulling up another chair next to Wick and sitting down in it, sliding in her tail as she took a heavy swig of the pale liquid, a smack of lemon and vodka snapping her back to her senses just as much as it dulled the ones she wanted to ignore.

They both sat in silence for a few seconds then Wick gave a tired sigh, “we’ll wait a bit for the pipes and wires to warm up so I can rest the grid, then we’ll continue. Just, need a moment,” he finished tiredly, fragging his hand over his face and exhausted expression laid across it.

“Alright,” Cass replied, taking another swig from the vodka, or trying to but finding it empty, putting the mouth of it up to her eye. “…Is there any more of this?”

Wick looked over to her tiredly before getting up and pulling another two bottles from a different cabinet along with some tall square based glasses, “yes there is,” he replied tiredly, his voice pleasant nonetheless, having calmed down. They both filled their glasses and clinked them together smiling, wick quickly downing the contents of his glass then reaching for the bottle and drinking straight from that as he slouched in his chair.

@agarespicero @gaap-goemon-ismylife @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @shark-smuggler @shax-lied @irumeanie

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