#did i miss anything. i probably missed something.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

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

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

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

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

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

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

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

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[kwoniele]

don't let them hear — choi subong

synopsis: lights off meant something a little different between you and the famous choi subong, also known as thanos.

genre: smut and fluff bc theyre js exes who want eo bad LOL. green flag choi subong... say WHAT 💜

warnings: afab reader, tease, fingering, nothing else honestly

author's note: this is the first time i have ever written on this account + since my social media detox so pls bear w me if this isnt exactly up to your standards ha ha ha... ily anyway not proofread! i wrote this when it was 3am leave me be.

"lights will be turned off in ten seconds."

in a moment, the lights will dim and the only thing shedding light in the room would be the giant pig dangling from the ceiling and choi subong's pale skin that's attached to yours. ever since he told you he would be joining you in bed tonight, you couldn't deny the fact you were thrilled. your drug-addict ex boyfriend shouldn't have excited you this much. let alone the fact you were waiting for him. 

"five, four, three, two, one." now, it was fully dark. 

you sighed in disappointment. you turned away from the side subong was and decided to sleep on your own. you knew you shouldn't have trusted him at all, yet you were gullible enough to believe he'd keep his promise. and he didn't. cause if he did, he would be beside you with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him so that you could warm one another up.

"y/n?," your eyes abruptly opened, "are you still awake?" he actually did it. he actually kept his promise.

he actually came.

you decided to play the stubborn game and not answer. but you knew that he was aware you were definitely up. "don't want me here? okay señorita. i'll leave." his footsteps began to get quieter as he 'left'. you felt guilty and decided to let him explain himself. after all, it hasn't been long since that robot woman announced it was time for bed.

"fuck you." you turned toward him, expecting him to be halfway gone already. yet you met a choi subong sitting down with his arms trapping his knees while replicating footsteps that were leaving. "wow. double fuck you.'

"please, i know you want me here. so move over." he stood up and laid down beside you as his head automatically dug itself into your chest. "i don't give a fuck if you're going to go on some lecture about how i should have been here sooner, so don't waste your time." he pecked your collarbone before adjusting his position. "i'm here with you and that's what matters. okay?"

speechless is an understatement. you couldn't even be mad. you couldn't feel the slightest anger in you because he's right there. you could see his purple hair laying on your neck.

wait. something's wrong. something's missing.

"wait. choi subong. where's the necklace?" you used two fingers to tilt his head up so you could see his eyes. they're still as pretty as ever. fuck him for having such charming eyes. 

"gone. i threw it away when i saw you rave about how you were so much happier when you quit." he stared at you. waiting for you to say something. "what? do you want me to dig my hands into the toilet to retrieve it?"

"did you seriously… get rid of it? for me?" you sat up. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before holding his hands. you noticed the tattoo he dedicated to you. the little heart with a sun next to it because he said that you were his ray of sunshine.

"of course i did. i meant it when i told you i'd fix myself as long as we crossed paths again, you know. i don't just make promises for the sake of—" shutting him up with your lips was probably your favourite thing to do. you missed this. you missed him. you missed feeling his lips perfectly match yours everytime you leaned in to him. 

"then i meant it when i told you i'd let you fuck me whenever, wherever. hopefully you take that damn opportunity now." he analysed your face before realising you were serious. he didn't even need to say anything. he just held your face by your jaw, kissing you rougher than earlier while gently laying you down on your bed.

he took off your pants and placed it just beside the bed, sliding your panties right after it. "fuck. how long have you been this wet, hm?" his middle finger glided itself from your cunt to your clit, using your slick as lubricant to teasingly insert his finger in your hole. "was it when i told you i quit? or when you kissed me? or better yet, since you saw me?"

"fuck, subong–" his free hand covered your mouth, preventing you from letting a noise out. 

"can you be quiet for me, baby? wouldn't want to let these jackasses know i'm fucking the prettiest girl here, would you?" you shook your head, agreeing that you should be dead silent. 

you didn't even notice that he snuck a second finger, fucking you with his fingers repeatedly until your were squirming and arching your back from the bed. "that's it, baby. do just that." his thumb flicked your clit, causing you to buck your hips on his hand. 

you don't know how he understood, but you mumbled against his hand that you were going to cum. his smirk was evident in the dark room which caused you to be pushed to the edge even more. "are you going to cum? hmm? is my baby finally going to cum for the love of her life?"

all you could do was nod. it was cute to him.

when you finally reached your release, he made sure to lick off all of your juice from his fingers. you watched him slowly suck on his ring finger while intensely staring at you. "i love you. don't leave ever again. i better be the only one you do this to."

"only for you, baby. just you and me. choi subong and future choi y/n. okay?

[buddiekinard]

a thing because i keep thinking about lou's naked body and i can't stop thinking about mpreg .....don't look at me..... This is just in my head and sometimes it's gotta get out. I am not starting another wip on tumblr. I am not.

Tommy turns off his truck outside of Eddie's house. He'd gone by the station first, but Evan is apparently off today. He wasn't at the loft either. Tommy could just call him, but this isn't a phone call conversation. This is a face to face in person conversation.

He sees Evan's jeep in the drive way, so at least he won't have to ask Eddie where Evan is. He hasn't talked to Eddie in over a month either.

He wonders if Eddie's decorated for Christmas. He doesn't know what's going on with Eddie and Christopher. He supposes that's what happens when you break up with your friend's best friend. They kind of aren't your friend anymore. (Not that Tommy had tried to contact him, either, even though he had texted him, once, the morning after he'd broken up with Evan.)

He grips the steering wheel and lets out a slow breath before getting out of his truck. He passes Evan's jeep on his walk up the drive and almost turns and runs back to his truck. Evan would never know he was here. He could keep his secret, figure out what to do on his own. Evan would never have to know.

Evan probably doesn't want anything to do with Tommy, and Tommy can't blame him. He'd run instead of talking, but then. Evan had jumped head first in to move in with me without talking, too. So he's trying not to blame himself too much.

He's just about to ring the buzzer when the door swings open and Evan is standing in front of him, box in his hand.

"Tommy? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said looking for you?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Well, you weren't at the station or at home, so I thought I'd try Eddie's." Tommy tries to remind himself why he's here, so he doesn't cut and run again. He knows this man has the power to break his heart, and it's a hart power for him to give up.

"You could have called me instead of driving all over the city?"

He pushes past Tommy with the box in hand and drops it in the back of Eddie's truck.

"This isn't a phone conversation."

"I spent two weeks doing nothing but try to talk to you." Evan turns to go back inside and then Eddie walks past with a duffle and tosses it in the passenger seat.

"Tommy? Hey, what are you doing here?" Eddie looks between them, raises an eyebrow at Evan in question, and then turns to give Tommy a skeptical look.

"It's fine, Eddie. I'm fine." Evan looks back at Tommy. "If you want to talk to me you can follow me inside. I have another suitcase to bring out.

"Is Eddie leaving?"

"No, but he's going to El Paso for a while." Evan picks up a suitcase. "You have really great timing."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for your timing? Sorry for breaking my heart to save your own? Which one is it?"

"Evan, can you stop for two seconds?"

Evan stops walk and drops his shoulders to look at Tommy. His face crumbles a bit, and Tommy can see he's not angry. There's something behind his eyes that says he's trying not to break. Tommy understands. He's felt that way for a month.

"I've stopped what do you need?"

"Maybe not here."

"Look, this is where we are, and Eddie is leaving today, so I'm not going anywhere, so you can talk to me here or we can meet later."

"Evan - "

"I miss you." Evan says. "I'm glad you're calling me Evan. It felt like a knife to the gut when you called me Buck." He sits down on Eddie's couch, slumping into it a little. "Sit."

Tommy does as Evan says.

"What's going on, Tommy? I'll listen." "Evan, I have to tell you something."

"I get that. What is it, Tommy?"

"I - " Tommy feels like he should run. Maybe running was always the right choice.

"Tommy." Evan rests his hand on Tommy's thigh. It's just a soft gesture. Tommy missed touching Evan. He's not mad at it. "What is it? You're not dying, are you?"

"I'm pregnant, Evan."

"Uh - " Their heads snap behind them to find Eddie standing there. "Right, I'm going to just, uh. I'm gonna go to the kitchen. Right. Coffee for the road."

Eddie disappears into the next room.

Tommy looks over at Evan, and he's just staring, not saying anything.

[vhagarys]

Sired (mini series)

aemond x reader, aegon x reader

PT. 1

summary: you are elated at the celebration that awaits on your eight and tenth name day. little do you know, you brothers have an unexpected surprise for you.

warnings: vampires, canon-typical incest (its the targaryens love), dub-con, smut, blood-drinking, manipulation?, all hail king daemon, siring?, probably more but I can’t think of any.. oops

MDNI

Ten and eight.

Your name day.

Twas a highly awaited day for you and your family both. While you were giddy with excitement for the festivities celebrating your womanhood, you’d little thought as to what exactly would await you.

See, what your family so carefully evaded from you was that the Targaryen dynasty were bestowed gifts in more ways than one. The blood of the dragon coursed through their veins, but so did something else.

A hunger.

On a Targaryen’s eight and tenth name day, the gift of immortality is bestowed upon them.

The dynasty has long reigned as the most feared and most powerful lineage in Westeros from this unique endowment.

Your naivety could almost be pitied as you fussed about the lacing of the scarlet gown you would don on your special day. Grinning like a cheshire cat, your older siblings watched you and your servants pick out jewels and embroidery to stitch onto the neckline.

“Why are we forbidden from speaking of the ritual? Shouldn’t we enlighten our dear sister on the events to ensue on the morrow?”, your sister Helaena frowns as she fiddles with her ring.

Aegon hummed, “I agree, dear sister. But, we mustn't worry her. Look at how excited she is to-”

“The ritual is a rite of passage. Tis a gift given only to us. That in itself is worth celebrating,” your older brother Aemond interrupted, closely following every small movement of his beautiful sister.

Aegon hummed once again, this time in agreement.

Both of your brother's eyes fixed upon your form. Your supple breasts now filled in the bodice of your gown, the soft flesh spilling over. Hips curved and full, your body was ripe and ready for child bearing, which of course did not go unnoticed by your brothers.

No, not when their hands tugged at their weeping cocks to the sound of your voice, to the soft touch of your skin against theirs, the sweet smell oozing from beneath your skin, pumping through your veins.

Aemond’s member twitched eagerly as you pulled the final layer of your gown over your head, leaving you in nothing but your small clothes. His eyes quickly averted to his brother, who chewed into his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

Sharp canines poked through his plump lips, Helaena lightly slapped Aegon’s arm and hissed under her breath.

“Control yourself, brother.” His eyes remained glued to you as you bent down to grab your afternoon camise, lavender eyes filling with red as a low growl emitted from his throat.

Just as he went to take a step towards you, the commanding voice of your mother broke through his thoughts.

“Aegon. Come with me.” The queen dowager walked towards them.

“Mother!” Your eyes lit up as your mother graced you with a loving smile.

“Hello, my love. Are you excited for the morrow?” Alicent sauntered towards you and lightly took your chin into her hands.

You beamed. “Very, is there anything I may help with?”

“No, sweet girl,” your mother kissed your forehead.

She turned on her heels, and you missed the look she shot towards your siblings as they quietly followed her out of the room, no words spoken.

That was odd.

They followed her into the adjacent room where she ushered them inside.

Alicent’s eyes were stern as she took a step towards Aegon.

The back of her hand graced the side of his cheek, snapping his head to the side as a pink handprint bloomed onto his pale skin.

“What were you thinking! Losing control of yourself like that in front of her!” She fumed.

Eyes cast down, he murmured, “I wasn’t thinking mother, please, forgive me.”

Aemond couldn’t help but scoff at him, his brother never exhibiting an ounce of self-restraint when it came to you.

Alicent’s eyes shot to her other son. “Keep him in line until the ritual, for the sake of our house. Please Aemond,” who only wordlessly nodded as the queen dowager stormed from the room.

Every fiber in his body wanted nothing but to give you another visit, the only thing stopping Aegon from forsaking his mother’s words was his sire bond.

During the ritual, one must first be bitten by another Targaryen to begin the transition. A sire bond between them is then formed, creating an innate urge within the newly turned to please the one who helped bring them into the world of immortality.

In tradition of their house, the father performs the siring ritual to each of his children. However, as King Viserys met his sudden end several moons past, Alicent performed in his place for each of her three oldest children.

Upon his death, your family named his brother, Daemon Targaryen, as the new king of Seven Kingdoms, your half-sister Rhaenyra his queen.

Them, along with other members of your family all gathered to celebrate the eve of your anticipated celebration.

You were sat next to one of your childhood friends, Sylvia, whilst the rest of your family chattered and indulged themselves.

“Are you nervous?” Sylvia turned to you as you stuffed another biscuit in your mouth.

You giggled. “And whatever is there to be nervous about? It will be a joyous occasion!”

You and your friend missed the quick glances from others at the table, unaware of their eavesdropping.

She leaned in closer, a look of worry within her features.

“I heard whispers in the wind that a sacrifice is required for the ceremony.”

Your heart spiked momentarily.

Just as you were about to question your friend further, a presence behind you pulled you fron your conversation.

“May I steal my sister for a moment?” Aemond offered his hand which you reluctantly took, your friend quick to avert the steely gaze of your brother.

Joyous music rang through the dining room as friends and family danced and laughed together. Aemond pulled you into the throes of people and wrapped his hand around the small of your waist.

He began to sway the both of you as the sour smell of anxiety invaded his nose.

“Brother, is there something regarding the ritual I am not yet aware of?”

He pulled you closer, inhaling the vanilla and cherries on your skin.

“Everything will be just fine, dear sister.” He rubbed small circles in the small of your back as the sweet tang of your blood broke through the sweetness of your perfume.

His breath hitched.

You looked up at him.

Something didn’t feel right.

There was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Pardon me, brother. I must refresh myself in the washroom,” you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before scurrying towards your friend, grabbing Sylvia’s hand before dragging her out of the room.

“Tell me what else you know,” your eyes frantically searched hers for answers after shutting the door behind the pair of you.

“I-I heard that the Targaryens possess a hunger inside of them. O-one of unholiness.”

Surely this was a jest?

You couldn’t shake the unease this warning brought upon you.

Your feet moved faster than your mind as you ran out and made a beeline towards your mother, desperate for some sort of explanation to ease your confusion.

Just as you were about to reach her, you were promptly swept off of your feet by your brother Aegon.

“There she is! The most important girl in the Seven Kingdoms!” You could smell the wine on his breath as he paraded you around the dance floor.

“Brother, please. Please set me down.” His eyes searched yours as an odd look of realization washed over his features.

Without explanation, he made quick work of whisking you out of the dining room and into the library across the hall.

The blood in your veins pumped loudly in your ears as he set you down.

“B-brother, please explain to me what is happening at the ceremony. I know there is something being withheld from me.”

He stopped abruptly in front of you, admiring how beautiful his dear sister looked in the light of the fire. A true Targaryen, he thought.

Perhaps it was the wine coursing through his veins, perhaps it was the desire to finally taste you that had the words tumbling from his lips.

“Have you ever wondered why our dear uncle, the king, has barely aged a day in decades?” He slowly circled behind you.

Vanillas and cherries. He inhaled you.

“I h-hadn’t thought of it, perhaps its-”

“Perhaps it’s because he is unlike a normal being. Perhaps none of us are,” he enjoyed watching the gears turning in your little head as his words filtered through your ears.

Poor, confused little girl, he smiled down at you.

He grasped the bottom of your chin and glazed over your soft features, your insatiably plump lips he so wished to devour.

All the while, you fiddled and picked at your nails beneath your skirts, a nasty habit you developed whenever you were anxious.

PIcking and picking, the unmistakeable scent of blood soon overtook his senses.

A low moan escaped him as he gently reached for your hand.

Trembling, you watched your brother inspect your bloodied nail bed.

“I am fine brother,” you tried to pull away but was effectively stopped as he brought your finger up to his lips and into his mouth.

You were so stunned by the queerness of his actions that you sat frozen in your seat.

Moaning louder, you were met with eyes filled with scarlet.

He looked other-worldly. You couldn’t seem to remove your eyes from your brother.

He smirked down at you as he released your fingers.

“You taste delicious, little zaldrīzes,” (dragon) his tone shot a shiver down your spine.

Cold fingers twirled through the strands of your hair. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

Aegon smiled at your pliancy. He was consumed by the urge to claim you, have you in every way imaginable.

And now he would take it.

Pushing your silver locks behind your ear, he absentmindedly traced circles into the skin of your neck.

“You’re just in time, brother,” Aegon finally acknowledged his brother who stood at the entrance of the door, observing the scene between the two of you.

As if hypnotized, your eyes remained locked on Aegons, your other brother taking his time as he waltzed over to the two of you.

“Well, what do we have here, hm?” His eyes immediately found purchase on your exposed neck, fidgeting in his place.

“Oh, I was just ensuring our dear sister was alright, it appears she cut herself. Look, brother.” He brought your fingers up to his lips and kissed them lightly, delighted to see how uncomfortable his younger brother looked.

You finally turned your gaze to Aemond, snapped out of the trance you were previously in.

“Aemond, I-I don’t understand what’s happening.”

His usual stoic demeanor cracked as the urge to taste you swallowed him whole.

He took the seat on the other side of Aegon and grasped your injured appendage.

“Shh. It’s alright. Allow me”, he began to lick up the droplets sliding down your finger, groaning as he finally got to taste you.

He needed more. They both did.

Watching his brother, a wicked thought popped into his brain.

“Would you like to know how we taste, mandia aesi?” (dear sister) Aegon ran his fingers through your tangled locks.

Mindlessly, you nodded as you watched your brother lapping at your finger. Not even registering what is what your brother was asking of you.

Aemond’s eyes shot up to his brother, wordlessly disapproving of what he had in mind.

Ignoring him, he pricked his finger and slowly brought it up to your lips.

“Jikagon, sylutegon issa mandia,” (go ahead, taste me sister).

Before your conscience could stop you, you savored the queer, coppery taste of your brothers blood.

You knew not of the sorcery that possessed you. All you knew was you wanted more.

Something inside of you snapped.

You wrapped your other hand around his arm, effectively locking him in place as you sucked harder, drawing more blood from his wound.

The pair of them watched, transfixed as their sister indulged.

A light yank of your hair pulled you from him, your other brother offering a taste from him which you happily obliged.

After a few minutes went by, you released his hand and licked your lips.

“More please,” your brother’s eyes darkened, something primal finally overtook any ounce of self-restraint remaining at your glossy eyes and blood dribbling down your chin.

“Now, don’t be greedy, dear sister. Let us have another turn.”

Leaning back in your chair, your brothers crowded each side of you and littered your neck with small kisses.

Nosing along your vein, your brother Aemond murmured, “Ao sytilībagon naejot īlva, mandia.” (you belong to us now, sister) before piercing into your soft flesh.

You groaned loudly as you felt a slight sting on either side of your neck, soon followed by an intense pleasuring shooting through every nerve in your body.

Gripping the arms of the chairs, your eyes rolled to back of your head as you brother continued to drink from you, their lust for you sending them into a frenzy.

Your body buzzed from the intensity, teetering on the precipice of an unknown pleasure you felt soon claim you as you lost control of your senses, spiralling into a black abyss.

Soon, your brothers broke away from you, maroon staining the skin around their mouths as they gazed upon your lifeless body.

“Fuck,” Aegon murmured as he wiped off and tasted the remains of you on his lips.

Aemond sighed. He stirred in his breaches as he reveled in the euphoria of the moment.

“She is insatiable,” Aemond grabbed a napkin and cleaned himself.

“Hmm, I already wish to taste her again,” Aegon smiled devilishly at his brother.

“Mother will be furious,” Aemond noted, following a rivulet of blood running down the valley of your breasts.

“Tis little matter now.”

The minutes dragged on before the doors of the library swung open, revealing a furious Alicent along with Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Helaena.

Taking in the scene before them, Alicent stormed toward the three of you.

“What have you done!” She shouted, rushing towards you lying limp in the chair, inspecting the puncture wounds on your neck.

Before either could reply, a small whimper left you which directed everyone’s attention.

Slowly lifting your eyelids, once lavender orbs were now tainted with red.

authors note: already starting pt. 2 hehehe, let me know your thoughts!

#enjoy

- alie

[cryptid-killjoy]

"Cool, we're the pineapple under the sea crew if Iorek's in."

Normal chatter until Livvy came up. There was Figaro looking on the bright though.

"True. She's not dead. At least I'm not mourning her legendary pirate soul." He started to grin at the simple act of calling her a pirate recalling how she got her name to begin with. It was so silly. How could he not smile? Then it fell. "Pretty sure she wouldn't want to see me if we did bump into each other." Then it started to grow again. "But watching her attempt to ignore, act cool, or act audacious, whichever would be cute either way." He chuckled at the thought wondering where her instinct would take her.

As for missing the randomness of people in society for these two social creatures Will was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, exactly. That's exactly what I mean. We need chile, Smalls. I'm more used to life being a chilli cook off actually. Not just Skyline versus Goldstar, but a god damn county fair cook off any day I feel like not being in the walls. You hit the nail on the head there. Some days I even want a Chilli Dog."

Nothing got his smile to spread more than the mention of Hansel. His time in the walls was special to him. But, oh the phrasing, in the closet. He laughed out loud. "Don't crush me with ideas, Smalls. Hansel's a handsome guy." Willem would hardly be ashamed to admit he got off with a couple girls more on the idea Hansel might have been peeking through the secret wall holes and believing he was giving him a show than the thought of the girls he was with. He never said these sorts of thoughts out loud though. Hansel was probably that best friend secret soft-crush he'd never move on because A. dude was straight, and B. he'd never want to hurt Funkytown if something went wrong even if he wasn't straight. He started to realize flirting with Diana too much started to be an issue. He never wanted to hurt a doll in any way. Either way he sure didn't mind giving Hansel a show and enjoyed it.

When they got out of the bus it was hard not to notice the amount of corpse debris strewn about. He flared his nostrils on first foul breath. He put the back of his wrist up to his nose. "You might want to wear that around your neck. Damn." His brows furrowed as his face cringed unable to stop inhaling in the pungent odor due to need for breathing. He'd smelled worse, especially in the beginning, but he still wasn't used to it no matter how long he'd lived in Feral.

All he could even think to say about Quarantine was, "That's Feral for ya." It was hardly shocking even if his nose still disliked it.

Another big smile spread when he saw Figaro with a rather large weapon. "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Dear Davey Jones. You look so... kick ass."

The best part of Bastien and his hoarding and their strange nothing you need store is everything that's expensive is nothing but a treasure hunt away. This appealed to Willem's pirate looting side. Bastien had a tendency to hoard anything and everything and organized in a system of his own design. Willem was more specific with his looting. That said one can best bet Wild Will came home to Funkytown one day with the Resident Evil VRs for his horror movie watching household. He brought enough headsets for half the dolls to play and even modded them to fit smaller dolls heads. Of course, the Polly Pockets and action figure sized were still out of luck, but he tried to make them user friendly. It was one of his own favorite loots.

"Yes, and please." He was ready to go up and check out the dolls that were haunting his mind tonight. He knew he wasn't going to sleep well if he didn't go check on them. So, he led Figaro on up to Livvy's old apartment. Willem had over time even gotten the key to the front door to the place because he heard of Frank's people races for Feral. The reality was most didn't make it beyond the race and if they did, they weren't prepared for what Feral was. The zombies got them before they had a chance to settle in, but on the off chance someone was a tough cookie that survived the Feral trials he wanted to keep this one space safe. So, he'd be seen pulling out a key of his own and unlocking her apartment as if it was his own. It wasn't a difficult item to acquire when the Landlord's office was abandoned.

"This is it." He knew Figaro wanted to rummage her uncle's belongings, but he still walked back to Livvy's room first.

"Her room is back here."

The shelving unit he made that Livvy never saw would be there, installed, and covered neatly in her collection of dolls and figurines. They were all lined up with care and placed at aesthetically pleasing angles.

He reached in for the mermaid first and sat on the edge of her bed. "I love this one." He said before kicking off the portion of his costume that made his feet look like hooves. They were getting uncomfortable, and it was a show he was making himself comfortable and intended to stay for a while. He was in no rush.

He took a dust cloth that was sitting off on a side table and wiped it off. It was still sitting there from last time he'd been in along with some Windex and dust spray. He intended to wipe down the shelves and tend to each one like he always did.

"She loved this one." He added. The Livvy Mermaid. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he enjoyed letting the memories whirl around his head as he touched each one that were living in boxes before he pulled them out, like a collector too afraid to open them up afraid of them losing value instead of enjoying them. The only difference was he knew that wasn't why she kept them in the box. Willem always saw Livvy as another little giant too busy trying to be what she wasn't or who she thought others needed her to be to enjoy who she was. That's why he knew those dolls were loved even shoved in the back of a closet in boxes instead of given away, donated, or sold off. It was thoughts like that which Livvy never quite knew or understood about Willem because they never dwelled long on depths of each other, but it was still thoughts like that which kept Willem attached. It was too close to home.

"Every now and again I think about bringing them all back to Funkytown, but I think they'll worry they might miss her if she comes back." He'd say as if they were actually alive and had thoughts and feelings even all of these didn't have any of the Geppetto magic on them. Willem believed he understood all the feelings of dolls even when they didn't.

"They don't get too lonely. They have each other." He let Figaro know in case they were worried. It had been a worry of his.

He looked more at peace in there than at the ball. "You don't have to sit here while I tidy them. You can go exploring like you wanted. I can meet you in there when I'm done if you want?" He had a feeling Figaro would get bored watching him dust the figurines and shelves and fluff the dolls.

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 9: Farm Work

Find the rest of the stories here!

CWs: Noncon; kidnap; lactation play; transformation; restraints; corruption; forced impregnation; forced tf; bondage; probably a dozen things I've missed

Author's note: I'm really not kidding when I say you can help by giving me ideas! Want me to write about something? Drop me an ask or a DM! I'll probably get around to it in the next 350+ days!

######################################

Maybe you stayed out a little late? Maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? All you know is you got jumped.

It was on the way home after work, you hadn't noticed them get off the train behind you, hadn't heard them gaining on you. You only noticed them when the chemical-smelling rag was pressed against your face, and the world went dark.

You woke up already naked and sweaty. Your arms were bound down your back, forcing your chest to push out, showing off your tits in the half-light. You could hear shouting in the next room, then everyone went quiet quiet as a voice called out 

"Next is lot 35, female, mid 20's, recently acquired"

They pushed you forwards and you stumbled, your ankles tied so you could only take small, hobbling steps, your bare feet numb on the cold concrete floor.

You emerged through the door into a spotlight. Blinking against the light you could see the room was full of people but you couldn't see any faces. 

Everyone could see you, bare, glistening, unable to cover yourself. You cowered away from their gaze, and yelped when a man hit you across the buttocks with a cane.

The auctioneer started the bidding, calling out numbers and taking bids faster than your addled, panicking brain could follow them. All the while, the man with the cane was watching. If you slouched? Whack. If you looked down? Whack. If you tried to hide any part of you? Whack.

The gavel went down. You're not sure how much you sold for. You were led off into another room, then into the back of a van.

You weren't sure how long you were in there, gradually coming down from whatever they used to knock you out. When they opened the doors you were somewhere else.

A large man, bald and scarred, manhandled you up and tightened a collar around your neck. He attached a long pole to it and started to manoeuvre you out. You were pulled through a maze of corridors, into a room with dozens of other women restrained to the floor and groaning. A smaller man waited, dressed in riding gear and carrying a crop.

"Ah, the new arrival." He pulled out a torch and examined you by the light, prodding and poking, feeling your tits and forcing open your mouth to see inside "All her own teeth, reasonable build, looks perfectly adequate. Get her settled." He left the room by the door you came in. 

The large man pushed you to a space between two other women and attached your collar to the floor with a short length of chain before going behind you and connecting your ankles to the floor. 

You were stuck there, knelt down with your naked ass in the air, face inches from the floor. 

That's when you heard it. Something was being led up behind you. Something huge and snarling. You could feel it's breath on your behind as it got to you. It was smelling you. Then it was upon you. 

It was heavy on your back, driving your face and chest into the floor as it thrust it's cock over your ass. It felt huge on your back, already oozing fluids. You cried out as it found its mark and started pressing against your pussy. It slid off again and again as it thrust madly, over and under you, until it didn't.

The pain almost made you black out. It was bigger than anything you'd had down there, and it wasn't letting up. Again and again it pounded into you until you couldn't see for tears and your screams turned to hoarse whispers.

Only then did it slow. One. Two. Three last mighty pumps into your quivering, punished pussy before it held in its throbbing cock. How breath on the back of your neck, stale and damp. You could feel the cum filling you up, pooling in your womb. It pulled out, your pose stopping any from spilling out despite your loosened hole. Whatever it was was being pulled away from you. Drawn sullenly back to wherever it was kept. 

You didn't move for the rest of the day. Not that you had much choice.

You woke to a bowl in front of you, filled with a tasteless beige slop. You tried not to eat, the food making your stomach turn. You weren't given a choice. You had your face pushed down into it, forced to eat just to make enough space to breathe.

This continued for weeks.

You thought it was just the food at first, making you sick when you woke up. Then you realised you hadn't had a period yet. Then you felt yourself start to grow. Your belly and your tits both getting larger. You couldn't not notice it. They couldn't either.

You woke to someone hefting your tits. They were manhandling them into plastic cups, suctioned on around your growing nipples. Then they turned the machine on.

You groaned. The machine was suckling you. Gently pulsing the suction up and down to start milking your tits. It lasted for hours. Days. Eventually you felt yourself starting to give milk, you saw it flowing down the tubes leading from your body. 

The food changed. It wasn't just flavourless any more. Now there was something different about it, something strange that made your tits and clit tingle and throb. 

It didn't stop. All day and all night the machine would pump out milk, more and more as the drugs and your own body did their work. You felt something else as well. Your clit kept tingling and buzzing, the drugs and the unending stimulation keeping you on edge, always ready to orgasm at any moment. But the moment never came.

The handlers don't touch you now. You hadn't had the creature since the first night. You're nothing but a whimpering cow, mooing and braying on the machines.

Until you aren't.

The handlers are taking notice of you again. You're hearing them talking about you. You're almost ready. 

You wake to someone behind you. You wiggle your ass to get some attention, and feel something strange between your thighs. Your clit feels big and hard against your legs. It must be at least an inch long after all the drugs and the edging. You feel it. Another tube suctioned over your clit. You hear a button clicking on the machine milking you. The cup on your clit starts pulsing in time with the others.

It's too much.

You cum immediately, the orgasm causing your swollen pussy to contract and throb, begging to be filled with something, anything. You moaned and begged for the man behind you to just fuck you already, you didn't care any more, you just wanted him inside you. 

He walked away. 

You don't know how long the orgasm lasts. By the time you can think straight again you're face down in a puddle of drool, your hips still bucking in time with the suckling on your tits and your swollen clit.

The strange taste is still in your food. It feels like every few days your tits grow another size, your clit another inch. 

Then it happens. You can feel something welling up from within you, pulsing through you. It feels like something is travelling up the length of your distended clit, coming closer and closer until inch by tortuous inch it starts.

You cum. Your pussy cleanches and squirts, your body convulses and you thrust your hips forward reflexively.

You can feel something coming out of your clit. Thick, hot cum is flowing out of you in a steady stream, each pulse makes you cry out in ecstasy. 

The drugs, the humiliating position you'd been stuck in for months, the beast growing in your belly, all forgotten.

This is all you want. To kneel here. To be milked for everything you have. To be knocked back up whenever you finally give birth to whatever it is in your belly.

You won't leave here, not for anything

[mak-be-ghouled]

silly little phantom/swiss moment based on my post about how when phantom cracks his knuckles/joints quintessence is released and he lights up like a glow stick and the lovely @tinyluvs tags on said post

It’s the middle of the night and Phantom has found himself, once again, passed out on his bedroom floor, galaxy projector still diffusing soft colors all around him.

Phantom considers just staying where he is and hoping sleep takes him back, but now that he’s present enough to feel the floor under his body, he realizes how much every inch of him is just aching.

He stomach also- unhelpfully- reminds him that Yes, he did in fact miss dinner, opting to escape to his bedroom before the chaos of chattering and clanking plates filled every part of his brain and then some.

He’s not even sure why everything just felt so much today- or yesterday he supposes- but it did and he just needed to escape a bit before he lashed out for no reason or freaked out over something silly.

But, despite his utter lack of energy to get up and do anything, let alone make a meal- or finding something that will at least suffice- he drags himself off of the floor of his room.

Apparently, his body is at least attempting to riot the change in position because as he begins standing he has to steady himself against the wall, lest he pass out and find himself in the same situation he had just minutes ago.

Once his vision decides to clear up enough that he can straighten his back fully, several little pops can be heard along with swirls of quintessence. Straightening his knees is paired with their own cracks of quintessence, as he basically resets his entire body, he swears just about every joint in his body needs to crack before he’ll ever make it to the kitchen.

Phantom looks down at his hands, he can’t help but smile to himself as he remembers Cirrus’ comment the other day about looking like a glowstick when the quintessence settled in his joints like this.

Heading to the ghoul kitchen, Phantom hears someone else banging around in there and finds Swiss elbow deep in a bag of chips, presumably treating his ever persistent munchies if the smell of weed is anything to go by.

As Phantom opens the pantry, in search of, really anything that will stop his stomach from yelling at him, Swiss lets out a muffled shout, stumbling backwards before catching himself on the kitchen island.

Phantom jumps a bit himself, suddenly startled by Swiss’ reaction but begins laughing under his breath when he realizes why.

This isn’t the first time Phantom has scared Swiss like this and certainly will not be the last.

“Your body is so fuckin weird bug”

Swiss manages out through disbelieving laughter, no matter how many times he whitnesses this quirk of Phantom’s, it’ll always catch him a bit off guard, and in all honestly his blunt from half an hour ago probably isn’t helping.

“Oh really? I had no idea” Phantom replies through his own fit of giggles.

“Oh Yeahhhh” Swiss teases, closing the space between the two, crowding Phantom back into the counter behind him. Swiss begins nuzzling into Phantom’s neck as he lifts him into the counter.

Phantom’s giggles never cease as he starts pawing at Swiss’ arms, no actual intent on stopping him anytime soon.

Yeah, snacks can wait for a bit, Swiss will probably even offer to make him whatever he wants later

Phantom decides when Swiss finally pulls away only for Phantom to pull him back into a deep kiss of his own.

[protectorcraft]

mutual liked the gripe post which reminded me to write it. okay hi im pyxis and im gonna talk about a trope the isat community falls back on a lot in writing that bugs me okay thanks

this is gonna be long and probably annoying so im putting it under a cut. open at ur own risk. heavy spoiler warning thanks.

okay. how do i start this. a thing ive seen in quite a few fics and theories, and its that the islanders are directly- and purposefully- responsible for their own disappearance. usually i see it framed as "the islanders made themselves disappear/attempted to wish away knowledge of wishcraft because it was dangerous" and like. hm! i dont think so.

take this with a grain of salt as ur local cracker but considering the framing of the island's disappearance- abrupt, sudden, disastrous- something everyone was talking about- the disappearance definitely falls more in line with the metaphor of some sort of disaster or, as is a significant theme in the game, colonialism/imperialism and the subjugation of cultures.

this was- 100%- not the islander's faults, and blaming them completely misses the point of the matter.

while people can say wishcraft is dangerous- and really, it is, there's no getting around it- it also seems like it was an important piece of the Island's culture and based off the few islanders we meet, probably used fairly regularly in day to day life. siffrin, for example, literally uses it on the regular without even realizing it. the knowledge of how to do it properly is probably pretty ingrained into the average Islander's brain. to them, it's just a fact of life! i mean, literally all the scriptures we see on wishcraft (and astronomy) ingame are written in the Islander language. they were The Experts on this stuff. (not to mention that this proves the knowledge was in the general public's grasp, even if it required knowledge of their language to learn about)

so it just doesnt make sense that they'd wish something so important to them away like that- sure there was probably discourse amongst them about the dangers of these practices, but they would know enough to know attempt something as risky as, say, wishing away all knowledge of their country or any one big thing. not to mention wishcraft is weird- technically speaking, siffrin's wish probably wouldve had a lot less effect if all the energy of the failed wishes hadnt culminated into their successful one.

and before you bring up how op the kings wish is- remember that a good 75% of the game is exposing all the ways the other characters foil siffrin, including the king. the king, who supposedly made a wish to freeze vaugarde- but did he?

a lot of the king's dialogue, when he isnt gushing about vaugarde and how much he loves it, is about his grief surrounding the loss of his own country. when given the chance, he'll grasp at any opportunity to remember anything about it, even if its putting trust in the hands of a stranger who is literally here to kill him for help. its pretty clear to anyone with a brain that he's not being ingenuine about this.

and, see, siffrin's true wish was masked over by their other wish. its one of the game's big red herrings. yadda yadda yadda how do we know that the king's true wish was really the "preserve" vaugarde, huh?

"where are you going with this we've gotten wildly off track" no we havent! get fucked! i think the kings true wish was the remember his country- and, yknow, there's probably a fair few islanders remaining. probably yearning to grasp even a fragment of their lost culture, hoping and dreaming and wishing for answers. not unlike the king, perhaps? perhaps a culmination of half baked wishes being fueled by one, fully formed wish?

yeah, you get where im going with this.

so perhaps wishcraft isnt quite as strong as we assume it is? that the soul intent of one person isn't necessarily going to give you godlike power in most cases- mind we're not quite grasping the full scope due to loops. Whole Situation. but that's not why we're here.

if the Islanders had enough faith in the rest of the world to provide them with their wishcraft knowledge- then i doubt they wouldve wished themselves or their knowledge away. nobody would do that.

and if the rest of the world did, indeed, have access to that knowledge, then there's a fair chance some other group could be responsible. a group who doesnt even recall their own responsibility because it's been wiped from their memories.

like, idk.... a more on the nose version how colonizer countries bury their own history of misdeeds from the general populace?

idk man. idk. just feels weird to me that so many people seem to have immediately gone towards the Cultural Suicide route for some reason. you have to be willing to acknowledge that the isat universe is definitely not the perfect, pristine world you think it is. and maybe folks just need to be willing to acknowledge the actual brutality the metaphor is alluding to.

after all, an entire island- all of its peoples and cultures- disappeared.

[mollywog]

What are your thoughts on Possibility of Peeta in Canon feeling guilt over a perception that he forced Katniss into the Star crossed lovers?

Oooo -Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about this.

One of Peeta’s main survival tactics is his ability to read people and situations…. And he’s pretty good at it (which probably was helpful to him far before the arena with a volatile mother but that’s maybe more the stuff of HCs so moving on)

With that in mind:

One of the first things Peeta says to Katniss upon her discovering him in the arena is:

"Lean down a minute first," he says. "Need to tell you something." I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

Even in his fevered state, Peeta is aware that this is an act (at least on Katniss’s side)

Later - when he’s trying to convince Katniss not to go to the feast and she claims that she isn’t, he says:

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.

‘I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going.’ -> all moments he (accurately) clocked where Katniss wasn’t being 100% honest if not outright lying

The ‘I don’t know how you’ve survived this long’ part is particularly interesting to me but I digress.

So then fast forward to after the feast where Katniss risked her life to save him:

"No! Just don't, Katniss!" His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there's real anger in his voice. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

I'm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food, so I try to keep up. "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who ... who worries about ... what it would be like if ..."

I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread

"If what, Katniss?" he says softly.

I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine.

"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he's probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it.

"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me.

In this moment Katniss inwardly acknowledges that she has real feeling beyond the act and Peeta, again, reads those feelings correctly.

This is the turning point for him.

So, then imagine his surprise on the train tracks (and all the self doubt):

"It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted."

"Not all of it," I say, tightly holding on to my flowers.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.

(Just picture Peeta replaying the games in his head and trying to figure out where he missed the tell.)

We often joke about Peeta being oblivious to Katniss’s feelings for him in Catching Fire, but really: He’s been burned by ‘misinterpreting’ her before and he’s trying not to make the same ‘mistake’ again.

In a way

“You love me. Real or not real?

Is a remnant of that doubt.

Anyways - back you your original question:

There wasn't a single person in Panem expecting the Gamemakers to allow for two winners prior to the rule change... 73 years of one Victor: It's unprecedented.

The star-crossed lovers strategy, under normal game circumstances,

Benefits them both. The romance makes them both fan favorites to sponsors. But, at the end of the day, there can only be one Victor. So when one were to die, public sympathy would swing sponsors towards the broken hearted other.

Relied very little on Katniss; she didn't have to opportunity to state her feelings for Peeta to the audience after the interview and in the arena, up until the rule change, she barely saw him. Had he died before the (unprecedented) rule change, there wouldn’t be much for her to do but appear sad. The star-crossed lover but is eventually just a sound bite.

No one could have predicted that both Katniss and Peeta would be crowned victors and have to maintain the strategy indefinitely.

So yes, on top of believing he mistook Katniss’s feelings for him in the arena, he then discovered they’d have to maintain the pretense of lovers for the rest of their lives… I’m sure he felt all sorts of miserable ways about that.

[hunterofartemis7]

Calypso sat sadly on the beach of her island. She missed her “lover” Odysseus. Why did the gods have to take him away!?

“Calypos..”

Calypso turned to the voice behind. She was rather surprised to see a scarred goddess of wisdom standing behind her. Her surprise quickly turned to annoyance. “Go away, Athena.” Calypso told her, turning back to face the ocean.

“No,” Athena says, “we need to talk.”

“Well I don’t want to talk to you so go away!” Calypso yells at her. Athena didn’t listen and walked up, taking a seat on the sand beside her. Calypos pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. “Are you happy now?”

The sudden question kinda caught Athena off guard, “pardon?”

“Odysseus went back to his “wife” and never has to see me again. In the 7 years he was on my island he never called for me, but the second he got the chance he calls for you! He called for you and the next day Hermes tells me I have to let the love of my life go so I ask again, are you happy now!?” Calypso yelled at Athena, tears starting to flow down her face.

Athena doesn’t say anything, just looks at the crying goddess with pity. Calypso turned away from her, wiping the tears off her face.

“I am, but not the reason you think.”

Calypso looked back at Athena, who was watching the waves come up to the shore. “What?” She asked.

Athena answered again. “You asked if I was happy now, I am, but not because he’s off and you’re alone.”

Calypso was confused, but mostly still upset. “I don’t understand.”

“Odysseus is back where he needs to be, with the people who really loved him—“

“I DID LOVE HIM!!” Calypso cut her off, getting up and yelling in Athena’s face. Though she was unfazed. “You loved not being alone anymore. You loved the idea of finally having someone here all to yourself and didn’t think about how he might feel.”

“Shut up..!”

“Calypso I don’t doubt that you loved him, but not the way you really think you did—“

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Calypso yelled furiously, using her magic to entangle Athena in thorny veins. “YOU DONT KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!! YOU NEVER FELT IT!! I DID!!”

Athena was unfazed by this, she knew calypso probably did love him and wanted him, but it was more she didn’t want to be alone anymore. “You’re right, I’ve never experienced romantic love, but I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it between Odysseus and Penelope and that wasn’t what you and Odysseus had.” Athena snapped and the vines disappeared around her. She brushes the sand off her clothes completely unbothered by Calypos attempted to intimidate her.

“Why are you doing this!? Why are you telling me any of this!?” Calypso yelled again.

“Because I want to help actually learn how to have a real connection with someone and not a forced one.”

Calypso was ready to strangle Athena, or throw her off her island but her last comment made her curious. “…why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you want to help me so bad? I figured you of all people would hate me.”

“Because I’m trying to make the world a kinder place, what’s a better place to start than here?” Athena answered. “Plus…I was willing to give up everything to help Odysseus, who’s to say i can’t help you too.”

Calypso just stared at her before walking up to the goddess. Athena was bracing herself, thinking Calypso was going to punch her or something, but she didn’t. Well, she was going to, but stoped last minute and started crying, hugging Athena and burying her head into her chest. Athena was a bit taken aback by this, though wasn’t entirely surprised and just hugged the poor goddess, stroking her hair and letting her cry.

“I…I hate being alone..!” Calypso sobbed.

“I know” Athena coed, “I know.”

After calming down, calypso agreed to let Athena teach her about actual having an emotional connection with someone and how not to force anyone to do things they don’t want to. They had to get Hermes involved cause while Athena was getting better at her own emotional connection, there were some aspects she still needed work on. Athena considered introducing Telemachus and Calypso, or having Calypso apologize to Odysseus, but figured it was better to keep everyone apart.

Someone better at character writing than me please write a fic about Athena going to ogygia post Epic to rehabilitate calypso and teach her how to make actual genuine connections for once (she’s gonna be to calypso who Telemachus was to her) (spreading her new warrior of the mind agenda of making the world a kinder place)

[whatwooshkai]

18!!

"Maybe we should call it a night," Boulder says gently.

"No," Chase says. "Not until I am confident these two are able to pass exams tomorrow."

Boulder gestures helplessly at Blades and Heatwave. Heatwave is face down on the table and hasn't responded to anything anyone's said for the past half hour, and Blades is staring daggers at a datapad, rotors constantly flicking in the vague gesture for "fuck off".

"Maybe we should call it a night," they say. "Recharge will probably be more useful than more studying."

"No," Chase says, harsher this time. One of his optics flicker, and Boulder winces in sympathy. "We will not fail. As a team, we are all responsible for each other's success, and I am determined to not fail them-" his vocoder suddenly cuts out with a burst of static.

Boulder gives him a sympathetic smile. "You seem pretty tired too, Chase. What are your levels at?"

Chase's mouth pulls into a frown that on any other bot would look like a pout. "No," he says, voice coming out clear this time. His optic flickers a little more. "My levels are perfectly acceptable and I am in no danger of shutting down," he says firmly, but the sentiment is a little less than believable with the haziness of his field and the way his doorwings and finials droop.

"Are you sure?" Boulder produces a cube from their subspace. "You don't look so good."

Chase's optics narrow. "I assure you, I am fine-"

He slams face first into the table.

Heatwave doesn't react, but Blades looks up. A hum Boulder had long since attributed to the ambience of the library suddenly stops, and Blades looks to Boulder. "Did I miss something?" he asks. His field teems with exhaustion as well.

Boulder sighs heavily, sticking the cube back in their subspace. "Nothing. We're packing up." They scoop up the datapads and shuffle those into their subspace as well, before walking around to Chase.

They gently pull a tube from their subspace, and just like back in the mines, pries open Chase's auxiliary fuel port, attaches the tube, sets it in the cube, and lets it be while they finish cleaning up.

Blades watches them with half-shuttered optics. "What are you doing?" he asks, staring suspiciously at Chase.

"He passed out," Boulder says, prying a datapad out from under Heatwave. He still doesn't stir. "I'm getting some fuel in him so he won't go into stasis. Here, give me a hand with Heatwave?"

Blades lethargically gets up and helps Boulder shuffle the unconscious firetruck onto their shoulders, before leaning against them.

"Stay awake," Boulder says playfully, giving Blades' shoulder a quick tap. "Don't make me carry you too."

"Never," Blades mumbles, but doesn't take his weight off of them.

Chase's clearly taxed systems take in the energon quickly, and his biolights get a brighter, but he doesn't stir. Boulder disassembles the feeding system and scoops up Chase by the waist under one arm. They take one look at Blades, then scoop him up under the other arm.

"Hey!" Blades protests weakly, but relaxes almost immediately, rotors drooping. "Y'know what, nevermind. Take me home."

Boulder shifts their shoulders so Heatwave settles a little more comfortably across them.

Then, with three mechs in tow, Boulder does as requested and heads home.

[sprunkimortality]

i saw the blog for the sister au . what is the mortality sprunkis thoughts on the nightfall sprunkis

(Completely hypothetical, probably only canon in multiversal interactions lol)

Oren: "Aw, he's real chill, dude. I wanna game with him and the boys sometime. By the boys, I mean like...our boys, and his boys." Raddy: "...stuck-up little son of a sprinkle." Clukr: "I intend to study him someday. It's intriguing how our worlds match and yet also differ."

Fun Bot: "TWIN!! YEAAAAH!!"

Vineria: "Our auras blend so well. I mean, we're like the same person...so it totally makes sense. There's also something alluring about her...but it's not an aura thing."

Gray: "I wonder if he also likes The Divine Machine." Brud: "Two Brud! Is like brudda! Wowa!!" Garnold: "He's a pretty cool guy, I'm not gonna lie! I should ask him if he wants to hang out sometime...totally not doing anything Clukr wouldn't approve of..." OWAKCX: "H- H- He seems to have things w- worse than me...I- I want to b- be friends with him, hoohoo..." Sky: "It's wild how we're the same person yet are so different. I can't play any ball games, for one."

Mr. Sun: "Oh, radiance! We're like two stars in a space! How joyous!" Durple: "The fellow is quite pleasant, you know. Nice guy! But...goodness me, his clothes...his fashion! Where's the pizzazz? Where's the fabulousness? If he's a version of me, then he's a rather strange one! Perhaps he's never gotten the chance...? Oh, I must be generous! I will give him a makeover when I find the chance to!" Mr. Tree: "I'm used to seeing other trees, but not exactly another me, so his existence is a pleasant surprise." Simon: "Oh golly-gee! I love other Simon! He's so awesomesauce, and so friendly, and so so SOOOO cool and awesomesauce!! Wait did I say that twice?" Tunner: "Heh, it's like lookin' at a mirror that can talk. A mirror that ain't quite perfectly reflective, but that ain't a bad thing. He's a lil' more uptight than I am, but I don't mind."

Mr. Fun Computer: "...how come HE gets legs? :( "

Wenda: "Oh my gosh, she's like, so adorable. Like looking at myself as a kid, but like, not really? Cause like, when I was her age, I didn't act like that- but you get it right?" Pinki: "She's a sweetie pie! I guess that's to be expected cause we're the same person! Teehee~! I'd love to have a picnic with her someday!" Jevin: "It's a delight, you see, to find someone just like me. Haha, hahaha..."

Black: "...not a fan." Saves: "Oh, he's quite literally just like me when I was younger...back when I was still an adventurous lad. Ahh...I miss those days...those days when I'd...I'd...oh, dear. I don't remember what I've done, but...I know it must've been fun."

Ciqu: "...I wonder if he knows."

Sprinkles: "She's a little bit littler than I am, but that's okay! We still have fun together! I like drawing with her!" Calvin: "Having what's kinda like a twin's real cool. And since he's me, he likes sneaking around as much as I do! He's fun. Wait...maybe I could do the thing with him where we swap places and trick everyone...heheheheh...."

[lured-into-wonderland]

Both. Truth to be told, Nunnally didn’t expect he’d care so much about the mug to be used 'here and now'. But it still felt…nice. So, she chatted. What she liked. What she enjoyed. What she hoped to get. Not that Nunnally had too many preferences. She, indeed, didn't like the edges her mug being too thick (or too thin), but otherwise all was a fair game. Though – and again – she found herself immensely enjoying the (mundane) conversation and (mundane) activities of these moments. Well, she did not find them mundane, although she assumed that many would. Not that it mattered.

Still humming that melody (and still only half aware of doing so), Nunnally looked at the red mug presented to her. Her lips formed a cheerful smile, and she nodded: --

“It’s perfect, Rav. I really like the colour.” – the redness of it was beautiful. The shade she really liked. And would wear. Sometimes. Though her usual style was different. More toned down. Less cheerful? – “I’ve liked wearing red…” – she continued babbling – “…but they say red is not the best colour for the cold blondes like myself…not that I really care, but nowadays I am less…well, less courageous to wear colours... than I used to be…” – she laughed as she was finding her way around the kitchen – “…maybe I am just too old for some things…” – she laughed again – “Oh, don’t oppose me, Rav! I know I am not old at all, but just sometimes I feel like… I guess you’re not really familiar with the social pressures…the kind I am submitted to…it's to tiring...” – even if it might have looked like a difficult (or even sad) topic, it was not one for Nunnally. Social pressure was something she was pretty used to, and nothing too worried about.

Though probably the pressure Ravein was submitted to was more of a kind to be worried about.

Humming, talking, finding her way around, laughing…all that made her almost missed Ravein’s next question.

“Yes…that’s what I hope for…” – she said, somewhat, disturbed with that question of his. Why was he surprised? Oh! This time it took Nunnally only a few moments to realize why he wasn’t willing to go. Or rather why it might be difficult to do so.

“But no worries. We don’t actually have to go out. We could simply shop on-line. Not as fun as regular shopping…” – no! Nunnally did not sound discouraged. She was still in that babbly mood and given Ravein was an observant man, he could easily tell that – “…but good enough. We might even design something together and have it printed on the mug… I did something similar…long time ago, but it might still be an option.”

“…I used to create things more often that I do now…” – she stopped for a moment wondering why she had said that, and then again she started to move around the kitchen looking at the spices she had prepared to use (now neatly seated on the counter together with three cups) . It seemed she had everything. She did create some mess (probably more mess than this kitchen had not seen for some time), but she was still happy. It was not as bad as it might have been.

“Don’t worry.” – Nunnally reassured Ravein – “I have everything under control… The kitchen will be left as clean as it was when…” – she laughed – “…when you let me in.”

And then she touched his hair (how forgetful of her!), but luckily Ravein didn't take it too bad (could that be called a p r o g r e s s?), and then she was back to humming, when Roberto returned. She smiled to the older man: --

“Absolutely not.” – she replied just for the sake of saying something; it was clear Roberto didn't need her permission to do anything, and she was aware serving the customers was a priority. And yes, although it might have been better for her to actually work in silence, she couldn't force herself to do it – “If anyone I should be the one not to look. I am sure you know more secret recipes than I do… I don’t think I've invented many innovative recipes…”

“…though I did experiment in the past…with the taste of tea and coffee...”

“The water is freshly boiled…” – she added busy with her drinks. They would soon be ready. But she wanted to delay it a bit so that Roberto can attend to the customers and then have his drink with the both of them.

Ravein would concur with Nunnally’s thoughts that the kitchen here was very warm and had an inviting atmosphere. Though, there was an element of being intimidating to someone who didn’t know their way around making coffee or tea, but aside from that, it was clear that the kitchen was designed and decorated with comfort and homeliness in mind. It really was nice here, and it spoke volumes to how quickly he acclimated and found this place to be ‘home’.

Ravein pauses to think about her question before he flips through a few pages in his notebook.

[Both]

It was good to know her preferences so he could try finding a mug that would be suitable for now and it would serve as a guideline to help find a personal mug for her use later. He would consult with Roberto on the matter and they could both keep their eye out for a mug that she may like.

Thin edges, shades of blues, oranges, or reds. Birds or intense colors… they didn’t have any with birds on them. Ravein logged the information in his mind for future reference and he cross-referenced with some of the mugs they currently had. He rummaged through one of the cupboards, remembering there was a plain red mug in the back. It didn’t have thin edges, but they weren’t too thick either. It was probably the best fit for now. He presents her the mug and waits for her approval or rejection.

Her comment about getting it together with him stuck out in his mind. Perhaps she wanted the opportunity to go shopping for a mug together? That way they could ensure that the mug she got was something of her tastes- which was the most efficient way of going about it, even if it did require some planning ahead of time around their schedules.

[Go together?]

It couldn’t be too dangerous to go looking for some mugs together. Who would ever expect that a guy on the run (and in disguise) would be shopping around for cute mugs? No one would suspect such bold behavior- so it was like reverse-psychology, almost. Besides, unless they wished to get in trouble with the local law enforcement, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to cause a scene in such an enclosed public space.

Nunnally did remember that he felt unnerved by the approach of others, especially given his history and his circumstances. Though late, she did belatedly recall this fact and apologize. A small thing, but he appreciated it all the same. He nods his head to show that he accepted her apology. He wasn’t totally put off by it, so it was fine. It would just take some time for him to truly accept her touch without first inwardly panicking first.

Something in his gut told him that it would happen eventually, in time. Even with him and Roberto, there was a sense of distance because the older man was being considerate towards Ravein. It didn’t mean that he always kept a strict distance, however. It was important for Ravein to slowly become acclimated to the touch of others if he wanted to become a part of normal society. Exposure therapy with someone he trusted was important- even if it made Ravein uncomfortable for a while.

The bunny man watched as Nunnally was preparing the drinks, curious to see what she had planned for them. His ears were also paying attention to what was going on behind him. He could hear that Roberto was handling customers, taking a few orders. Once he finished taking all the orders, he’d come into the back to start making the beverages.

In a matter of minutes, the older man came back into the kitchen, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you, Miss Nunnally. I have a few drinks to prepare for customers.” He gives Ravein a look and motions for the younger to stay seated. He could handle this small order of drinks himself. “I promise I won’t sneak a peak at what you’re making.” He cracks a small joke towards Nunnally, who was still preparing the drinks.

[tgmsunmontue]

I never knew I was missing you 7/9

Jake is just trying to find a connection. Shame the guy he connects with the most is lying about his identity online; because he sure as hell isn't A-list Hollywood star Bradley Bradshaw.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

PART SEVEN

                He doesn’t know what he was expecting exactly, but later, after he’s made out with Bradley, gotten naked and let himself discover all the little imperfections that get airbrushed out of photos, has generously let Bradley give him a blowjob when he asked, then returned it. Things had sort of devolved into unspoken actions, Bradley shuffling him toward what Jake can only assume is his bedroom, now that he’s looking around. There’s a sofa and a TV and an ensuite and the entire room is pretty much the size of Jake’s entire base accommodation. It’s obscene.

                The bed is definitely better and he shifts, waits for Bradley to slide back into the bed, handing him a bottle of water which he didn’t even ask for but dutifully drinks half of anyway. Then Bradley is lying down, facing him, head rested on hand while his other hand absent-mindedly strokes Jake’s hand where he has it resting on the bed between them, his own pose mirroring Bradley’s.

                “How was your day yesterday anyway? You said you didn’t have any plans… Sounds like bliss to be honest.”

                Jake shakes his head, because with comments like that he’s pretty sure Bradley hates his job.

                “Yeah. It was good for the most part. Got a little weird in the middle, but I’m kind of getting used to that…”

                “Weird how?”

                “My CO turned up just before lunch and was just… weird. Weirder than usual.”

                Bradley has stiffened and Jake wonders what the fuck that’s about, reaches for his fingers and laces them together, brings their joined hands to his lips so he can press kisses to each of Bradley’s knuckles.

                “What did he do?” Bradley asks, and Jake frowns some more, because Bradley sounds… off. If Bradley has an issue with him having a commanding officer, then they’ve got issues before they’ve started. Oh shit. Maybe it’s the privacy thing. Well, he didn’t tell Maverick anything, and he can reassure Bradley of that.

                “Do? Nothing really. More what he said. Was asking me all sorts of questions. About alcohol, then drugs, and then whether I’d been to any parties…”

                “Was he now…” Bradley says, and for some reason he seems annoyed, or maybe even angry and Jake pulls back to look at him properly, because this sounds personal. But he’ll cover his bases anyway.

                “It’s okay, I didn’t tell him anything. I mean. There was nothing to tell him about most of that stuff anyway. But then he started talking about his godson, and wanting to set me up with him… so fucking random. I mean… I kind of told him I wasn’t available,” Jake admits, and he’s pretty sure that that’s an okay thing to admit to given their last few hours together and what Bradley said about wanting to try being with him. Whenever he’s wanted something Jake has got it, and he wants this to work. For as long as Bradley wants him.

                “He was vetting you.”

                Jake’s brain is off on a different path and he forces it to circle back.

                “What? Who was?”

                “Maverick. He was vetting you. I’m his godson. I’m going to fucking kill him…”

                Jake blinks.

                “What?”

                “He probably thought he was being funny. He’s married to Slider by the way. Ron Kerner that is. My head of security that you just met? He’s an ex-aviator. It’s where he and Mav met…”

                “Holy shit. That’s why you know all that shit about the Navy and planes…”

                “Yeah. My dad was Maverick’s RIO.”

                “Fuck… and here I was worried you wouldn’t… understand my lifestyle.”

                “Ha! More like you don’t understand mine…”

                “I… want to understand… but uh… what do you mean vetting me? Is he… Maverick…”

                “He’s my godfather. He’s uh… a little protective. He was making sure you’re not a drug addict, or secret alcoholic, or just going to blurt out who I am to the first person who came along…”

                “Huh. Well… I mean. That beats the alternative.”

                “What’s that?”

                “That he’s losing his marbles.”

                “You’re assuming he had any to begin with. You okay with… that?”

                “What?”

                “Maverick. My relationship to Maverick.”

                “Oh. Uh. You said you were going to kill him…”

                “Not seriously. Yell at him. Sulk about it and complain to Slider about him. Slider will just go and drink whiskey with Ice and commiserate…”

                “Ice?”

                “Iceman. Tom Kazansky.”

                “Oh fuck me…”

                He fully expects Bradley to make some quip about yes, I’d love to, but instead he’s just looking worried.

                “Too much?”

                “No! Shit. Maybe… it’s fine. Just… it’s a bit to get my head around. You’re fucking surrounded by flyboys huh?”

                “Well, hoping to add one more to the collection if he doesn’t run away scared…” Bradley says, letting his fingers walk up the flank of his thigh and Jake scoffs.

                “I’m not scared…”

                “Good…”

                He opens his mouth and snaps it shut, realizing he just got played and the fact that Bradley seems to know him so well already is both a little disturbing but also kind of reassuring. He leans forward for a kiss which Bradley meets with a grin, sliding his body against Jake’s and he’s gorgeous, better than any picture or movie he’s ever seen.

                “I’ve gotta ask… Do you even… like it?” Jake says, wondering if he’s overstepping. He doesn’t understand Bradley’s life, not really. Not yet. But he wants to. “I… you just… uh. Why do you do it if you don’t like it?”

                “Huh?”

                “Be in Hollywood? Why do it if you don’t like it?”

                “But I do like it…”

                “Uh. Okay. Sure.”

                “Oh. I love the acting. And the people for the most part are really fucking cool. But also I’m a bit of a whiner. Neil and Callie and Ron will all tell you. They’ll hear me whine constantly about you being deployed. Doesn’t mean I want to change anything…”

                “Ah. You just like… bitching about something huh?”

                “Yep. Got to have something to moan about. But if something really does bother me I do take steps to fix it. I didn’t like living so centrally in LA… plus Ron and Mav never said anything but I know they appreciated it when I moved here.”

                “Fuck. That’s why you live out here, away from Hollywood. So Ron and Maverick are closer to one another?”

                “Well, that, and people have to make a little more effort if they want to come and see me. Being here makes it a little more difficult. I’m not as available.”

                “Smart.”

                “You know it…”

…            …            …

                He can’t remember the last time he felt quite this joyful. It’s not just the sex, but Jake’s whole attitude toward him. He’s lavished Bradley with attention, however none of it has centered around his fame, or his looks. Well. That’s a lie, Jake seems to plenty appreciate the way he looks and his body plenty, but he’s insisted on finding every little scar and licking over it, hasn’t held back poking fun at little things. Doesn’t seem to think Bradley is worth any type of deferential treatment. Other than seeming a little in awe of the sheer size of the house has taken everything in stride. Right now he’s letting Bradley fix them sandwiches, something easy and portable which they can take to the movie room and watch something while curled up on the large sectional.

                “You know, I have two VIP tickets to ComicCon. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me… Before.”

                “Before? Why just before? Why not now? I’d love to go with you.”

                “Uh… okay. Bradley, you know you’re like, one of the actual celebrities on, like, panels and shit right?”

                “I can still go with you. Just has to be incognito. Cosplay is great for that.”

                “Holy shit. Are you serious?”

                “Yeah. Of course. I’ve gone before in full disguise. It’s great.”

                “Oh my god, Fanboy is going to love you…”

                Bradley grins, because obviously Fanboy is another aviator, but he’s kind of hoping the one in front will love him first.

[neocitylights]

SCREENTIME — a call d short story

“It’s just weird not having you here. I didn’t think it’d feel so… empty.”

GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au WORD COUNT: 2.3k

NOTES: An update on our duo graduated in downbadism for each other! It can be read as a standalone but it references a few things from the main story. Please let me know what you think! It’s gonna make my day!

Barbie 7:14PM I miss you ☹️

Haechan’s phone buzzes with your incoming text as soon as he steps into the hotel room, immediately making him grin at the screen despite his exhaustion.

After a long day of tedious networking—with people he isn’t particularly interested in beyond business—he’d managed to escape Johnny’s invitation for dinner in a fancy restaurant in the city to return to the hotel instead, planning to crash your morning with a video call to see you.

You’ve always joked that he had both impeccable and terrible timing, though today his ability seems to be serving you.

7:15PM Oh my 😀😀😀😀😀 Is my baby missing me???? You aren’t supposed to be up yet What time is it over there now?

Barbie 7:15PM It’s 5am here Are you at the hotel already?

7:16PM Just got to my room Are you okay? Why are you up so early?? Don’t you have today off?

Barbie 7:16PM I do I just woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore Can I see you please? I’ll facetime 

7:16PM My baby wants to see me??? 😀😀

The text’s marking read when a picture of you takes over the screen, a smile tugging at his mouth as Haechan accepts your call, sinking into an armchair by the window of his room. 

As your face appears, he can’t help chuckling fondly at the sight—bundled up in a blanket, your sleepy eyes immediately beam upon seeing him. The room’s still dark save from the dim light from a lampshade, his heart skipping with a few familiar details around you. 

“Hi, Barbie,” he greets animatedly, curious eyes squinting at the screen. “Are you at my apartment?”

A hint of bashfulness takes over your face as you smile back, nodding at him. “Yeah.”

“You look so cozy,” Haechan teases, smiling mischievously upon noticing the extra pillows around his bed. “Are you missing me so badly that you need to sleep at my place?”

With a huff that sounds more playful than anything, you shoot him an eye-roll. “You’re so annoying,” you answer, the quiet voice lacking the bite from your words. “Did you have a long day? You look a little tired.”

“You know I hate this kind of thing.” Haechan exhales a half-hearted laugh, running a hand through his hair. “If it wasn’t for Johnny, I’d be just around talking to the artists instead.”

You hum softly, smiling at his complaint. “Sounds like you.”

As he brings the phone closer to his face, Haechan raises a curious eyebrow at you, back to his playful self. “So… how’s everything over there? Are you taking good care of my plants?”

“They should be my plants since they’re only still alive because of me,” you argue, a smile soon following your half-hearted huff. “Alia’s still going crazy over the wedding plans, your mom asked me out for lunch earlier this week, work’s still work… same as always.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw the pictures of your date with Mrs. Lee,” he jokes, chuckling as you confusedly stare at him for a second. “She told me you were going out together, so I asked her for pictures. I’ll tell you that she did not disappoint me.”

“Oh my God, is that why she took so many pictures of me?” You frown, visibly surprised at the twist. “It felt like I was shooting for a magazine or something.”

Haechan grins, offering you a coy wink. “I made a new album in my gallery just for them.”

“You haven’t told me how’s the hotel yet,” you start, purposefully disregarding him with a hint of a smile on your face. “Is the city still the same as you remember?”

“The hotel is fine, just boring,” he complains, taking a glance around the place as if to suddenly find anything interesting. “I haven’t seen much of the city, though. My mom probably has an entire schedule planned to go as soon as she lands.”

“That’s so cute,” you reply, adjusting under the blankets with a soft laugh. “She does seem really excited about it. She couldn’t stop talking about the last time you guys visited your family at our lunch date.”

The conversation pauses for a second as Haechan lets himself watch you, holding back a smile at the little peek at your pajamas—a t-shirt that’s been missing from his closet for a good few months. Though as something suddenly moves underneath the blanket, seemingly walking right beside you, his face immediately shifts to a puzzled frown. 

Haechan shifts on his seat, eyes squinting for a second time. “Do you have something to tell me, Barbie?”

That’s all it takes for a pair of fluffy ears to slip out, followed by a rather loud protest at the screen before a white and brown-ish cat climbs over you, settling comfortably on your chest as Haechan watches in a mix of bewilderment and adoration. 

You glance at the camera for a second, biting your lip. “Surprise?”

“We have a cat?!” he asks dumbfounded, laughing in disbelief as his eyes shift between both of you. “Do we suddenly have a cat now?”

Giggling at his reaction, the cat suddenly meows on your chest, bothered by the movement. “It’s not ours, Hyuckie,” you explain, fingers carefully running through the fluff. “It’s Yangyang’s cat. His name is Coco.”

Haechan huffs playfully, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not Yangyang’s anymore.”

Moving the camera to a better angle, you snort when noticing him taking a screenshot. “He had a family emergency but his roommates aren’t in town, so he texted me asking if I could take Coco for the weekend.”

With a hum, Haechan furrows his eyebrows at the cat through the screen. “So Coco will spend the entire weekend with you at my place?” he asks, suddenly letting out a dramatic sigh at your nod. “It’s really tough seeing someone else living your dream.”

“Stop,” you counter, holding back a laugh at his antics. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No.” He shakes his head, looking around for the hotel’s menu. “I’ll order some if you stay with me.”

As both of you exchange idle chit-chat about the trip, Haechan orders his dinner with yours and Coco’s company, soon moving to the table with the phone propped in front of him. With the food’s aroma spreading through the room, a happy groan escapes from his mouth, almost making him forget the attentive audience of two on the other side of the screen. 

Amused at the delight on his face, you can’t help chuckling. “Did I make a good choice?”

“You make the greatest choices always, baby,” he says, already between a mouthful when Coco meows again. “Yeah, yeah, you too.”

The silence stretches for a second too long as Haechan finishes the meal, the lively mood of your little comments fading into a quiet, sudden pause. Though neither of you are usually bothered by these moments, something in the way you’re watching him makes Haechan pause. 

“Uh-oh, it looks like you’re thinking too much,” he starts, smiling softly despite the tip of worry lacing his voice. “What’s wrong, Barbie?”

You hesitate for a moment, sighing quietly before speaking. “It’s just weird not having you here. I didn’t think it’d feel so… empty.”

As he clutches his chest theatrically, Haechan slumps into the chair with a groan. “Is my baby really missing me?” he taunts, the attempt to draw a laugh out of you succeeding upon your giggle. “You could’ve come with me, I told you I’d sneak you into our meetings.”

More playful than anything, you give him an incredulous glance. “I told you I have a job.”

“That’s just details, Barbie.” He shrugs, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “You know Mrs. Lee wouldn’t mind giving you a few days, right?”

“Well, she did ask me why I didn’t go with you…” you confess, the tone of your voice subtly changing to a teasing one. “You probably wouldn’t get any work done with me around, so it’s probably for the best.”

As he stops a protest short at your glare, Haechan nods solemnly instead, feigning defeat. “Ok, fine, maybe you’re right,” he admits, suddenly grinning as realization clicks in his eyes. “Oh, I got some stuff for you, by the way!”

You let out a half-hearted groan, watching fondly as he disappears into the hotel room. “What did I say, Hyuckie?”

“To not get you anything,” Haechan calls aloud, an edge of playful offense laced to his voice. “That’s the lamest thing you’ve ever asked me, baby. I’m not going home to you empty-handed.”

It only takes a moment for him to return to the screen again, leaving you visibly stunned while he juggles a ridiculous number of shopping bags into the frame. The rustling sound makes you laugh, bothering Coco enough that he meows grudgingly, moving to nestle himself against a pillow instead.

“Hyuck, what the hell?” you exclaim, bringing the phone closer as if to get a better look. “How is all of that fitting in your luggage, baby?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he answers casually, a grin instantly growing on his face upon spotting a specific bag, one of the biggest ones around him. “Oh, you’re gonna love this one—close your eyes for me, hm?”

Raising a suspicious eyebrow, you resist a smile by biting your lips. “Why should I?”

Giving the camera a knowing look, Haechan huffs mischievously, shaking his head at you through the screen. “You’re usually really good at obeying my orders.”

You scoff indignantly, visibly flustered at his words despite the annoyance. “You are with mine too!”

“I’m a good boy,” he agrees nonchalantly, your astonishment earning a smirk out of him. “Come on, Barbie, close them.”

With a small sigh, you oblige, squeezing your eyes shut. “Donghyuck, if you’re playing a prank on me—” 

“Shhh, no talking,” Haechan interrupts, eagerly pulling the gifts from the bag before holding them closer to the phone. “Okay, open now!”

A hand immediately flies to your mouth as you gasp, taking in the sight of the two cute bears taking over the screen of your phone—behind Rilakkuma and Korilakkuma, Haechan can’t help laughing at your reaction. 

“Oh my God, Hyuckie!” you start, eyes alight as a wide smile grows on your face. “They’re so cute! How’d you know I wanted them?”

He shrugs, though his grin gives away a hint of satisfaction. “I actually listen to my girlfriend like a good boyfriend should do.”

“You are the best,” you mumble, voice softening as a pout forms on your lips. “I love you.”

“You do, don’t you?” Haechan teases instead, ignoring the warmth spreading over his neck by shuffling through the shopping bags again. “You’re gonna love me even more with this one.”

As he holds it out, your jaw immediately drops at the designer name on the bright, startlingly pink bag in his hands. “You got me a Barbie bag?!”

“Obviously,” he says, mockingly serious as he nods solemnly. “I’ll receive my gratifications in the form of kisses and cuddles.”

You giggle, fondly shaking your head at his words. “I’ll kiss you for as long as you want,” you promise, holding the phone closer to your face as Haechan sets the plushies next to him. “They look a little bit like us.”

“They do, don’t they?” Haechan agrees, snorting a laugh with a look at the pair. “Mark said the same thing. He said I should’ve picked out matching outfits for them too.”

“Oh my God, we are absolutely doing that,” you beam, giving him a mock look of determination. “Rilakkuma and Korilakkuma need proper clothes as representatives of our relationship.”

He nods through the screen, visibly amused by your excitement. “Anything for you, baby.”

You chuckle sheepishly at the words, the sound warm and easy despite a subtle mood change as the moment draws for a second too long. There’s a pause as both of you just look at each other through the screen, charged with unspoken feelings. 

“So… what’s your plans for tomorrow?” you ask, breaking the quiet with a lighter tone. “More boring meetings?”

“You should’ve come with me,” Haechan grumbles again, wrinkling his nose before leaning closer to the screen, as if to tell you a secret. “There’s still time, baby. Just say the word and I’ll book a flight right now.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head, laughing for the nth time at how serious he sounds. “As much I’d love to, one of us needs to be the normal person in this relationship.”

Noting the hints of sunlight already slipping through the curtains at his place, Haechan watches you stretch under the blankets, a yawn escaping from your mouth just as he glimpses at the clock on the wall of his hotel room. 

“You should take a nap,” he murmurs, smiling as the cat beside you mimics your motion on his pillow. “Coco seems to be filling my spot well, huh?”

“I have a feeling that he’d hate you,” you joke, playfully narrowing your eyes at Coco. “It took a few hours for him to warm up to me after Yangyang left.”

Haechan chuckles, his eyes softening the longer he watches the screen. “Hey, I miss you too, alright?” he says, gently taunting you. “How many more days until I’m back?”

“Ten,” you reply instantly, timidly avoiding his gaze for a second. “Not that I’m counting or anything.”

He grins, tilting his head with a click of his tongue. “Sure you’re not, Barbie.”

“I should let you go,” you sigh, coming off a little reluctant despite your firm nod. “It’s getting late for you and I have to set up Coco’s breakfast soon.”

With a hum, Haechan leans towards the camera with a hand over his ear. “How many more days?”

Despite a half-hearted eye-roll, you sound nothing but sweet as your voice drops to a whisper. “Ten, Hyuckie.”

“That’s right,” he says, his smile softening into something warmer, almost with a reverent touch. “I love you, hm?”

A smile spreads across your face, nodding through the screen one last time. “I love you too.” 

9:54PM [attachment] Here’s your tickets baby 😘 You fly out Monday morning Barbie 9:54PM DONGHYUCK WHAT???

[chaoticwriting]

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 4

Part 3

Danny looks at the guy skeptically. Last time someone approached him, they were Red Robin, Spoiler and Signal. This time, a dude that looks like an average office worker approaches him.

Trickster: Sure, why not?

???: Thank you.

Trickster: So, what do you want with me?

???: Let me introduce myself first. I am Clark Kent. A journalist from the Daily Planet. I would like to ask, is it true that you know Batman's secret identity?

Trickster: You mean those pictures I stole from his wallet? Yeah sure. Why do you wanna know?

Clark: As you know, I am a journalist. And it is our job to find out about news and share it with the general public. I am just thinking, what would you like to exchange for the real identity of Batman.

Trickster: Hmmm..... What price huh? Let me think for a moment.

Danny then continues to eat his food as he pretends to think about Clark's offer. Honestly, he doesn't give a damn about this Clark guy. He is also a vigilante once, so he knows the importance of their secret identities. While slurping away his last coke, Danny gains a very good idea (He thinks it is a good idea).

Trickster: Well, I don't think I would sell the pictures just yet since the card is still useful and I don't need money. However, I have a very interesting topic you can investigate.

Clark: Oh? What is it?

Trickster: Try searching for something called GIW. It is a government branch and I'm sure it will be a hit piece.

Clark: GIW? What is that?

Trickster: Well that's for you to figure out. Oh well. I'm pretty full now. Gotta go now. See you never.

Danny then disappears right in front of Clark before he can do anything. Clark can't even hear or see the kid anymore with his enhanced sense and x-ray vision further cementing that the kid probably has teleportation power.

Danny meanwhile is laying on his makeshift bed while watching the stars after he uses his power to clear the sky thinking what he just did is very smart. Unfortunately, he doesn't know this decision is as good as the previous time he thinks his idea is good.

-1 month later-

Danny is picking up scraps from the junkyard for his next prank. Collecting some toasters, some blenders and even some radios. Danny has spent a lot of time these past few months, tinkering with machines that he practically knows what component is in which appliances.

Suddenly, he sees a very familiar device among the junk. A sleek silver gun with a few green buttons on it. It doesn't have the usual designs that Danny used to see but Danny knows without a doubt in his mind that it is an ecto gun.

The problem is that, the gun is new. Very new. Like it is just created. And that means one thing. A GIW agent is here. Shit! Danny needs to run. But where? He has checked before this but the only place with enough ectoplasm to hide him is either Gotham or Amity Park. No where else in the world has as much ambience ectoplasm to hide him from the ecto detector.

But now that they are in Gotham, he might as well not hide since at such close proximity, the ambient ectoplasm can only hide him if they are not close. Danny is thinking very hard when his ears pick up something. A group of people is coming his way, and from the way they are all carrying heavy devices, they are probably GIW agents.

Danny against his better judgement turns invisible and flies high enough so that if the agents decide to shoot him, he will have time to dodge them. Danny watches quietly as the ecto detector bips faster and faster the more they go to where he is previously.

???: Damn it. I thought this is where Trickster is. But it's just the gun that you lost.

???: Hey, at least we don't need to file reports of missing weapons right? Also, didn't that thing already get set up by the Fentons to find Trickster?

???: It's probably them messing it up. It's not like them messing shit up is something new anyway.

???: Yeah. Let's just say it is a false alarm. I hear the higher ups are thinking of lowering our budgets next year if we don't produce any results soon.

???: Ugghh, don't remind me of that. Not only do they pressure us like that. I even heard that there is some guy that has been snooping around our base, taking pictures and stuff.

???: I hate those reporters. We are trying to do our job and save them from those savages, and yet here they are messing with us. Calling us genocidal maniacs and the second coming of Nazis.

???: If that is not bad enough, they even say that they feel like we should treat the ghost as if they are people. Ghosts are not people! They are merely beast pretending to be someone we used to know and love.

???: I would love to just punch those reporters to the face if not for the fact that Boss ordered us to stay put.

Suddenly their walky talky start to beep.

Walkie-talkie: Agent P, Agent Q. Return to the base of operation immediately. We are receiving visits from the higher ups.

Both of the agents reply with Roger and hurriedly run towards their van and drive off somewhere. Danny looks at them and decides, he has found what his next prank is going to be.