#give me something more concrete dammit

[adhbabey]

Like I get that some social medias spread misinformation, but literally all of them do all the time. So like, why tiktok in particular are y'all up in arms over? There's twitter (although its dying), there's youtube, theres whatever facebook has, there's snapchat, theres been things like kik, there's been things like forum sites, theres been stuff like wattpad and ao3, etc. Like. There is bad on everywhere.

So why are you like "tiktok is so cringe, i hate it so much". Like its just because its one of the most popular that it gets so much press.

Idk it kind of feels out of touch to say that there is nothing good that comes out of tiktok. I personally don't use it anymore, but there was a lot of good on it in my experience. I like youtube shorts as a replacement for it, in fact, many creators reupload their videos from tiktok to youtube.

So like, I think we just need to accept that it's not that people on there are particularly cringe or bad, more than any other site or app. It's that its just a very, very quick spread of information, and with any misinformation, that can be a problem.

But beyond that, it sounds like a bunch of adults just getting mad at teenagers like they always do.

[glassesfreekjr]

Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?

Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.

Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.

Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.

But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.

You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.

(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)

But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.

He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.

The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0

(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)

dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me

Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.

He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.

It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.

As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.

...

So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.

In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.

tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?

[darkpuppysuit]

WARNINGS:  Mainly physical abuse with mental abuse as well.

MATURE 18+ MINORS DNI 

Vague hybrid abuse, DEATH, eventual SMUT, and more if I missed any. Chapter one and future chapters will be a lot longer than the prologue so buckle up buttercup.

There is also a POV change in the future chapters.

The only descriptive words I'll use are blue eyes, septum/lip/tongue piercings/gauges/tattoos.

Now, onto the beginning of it all.

"How dare you disobey me girl!" He growled, I can't help but flinch but I'm held back by the chains hanging from the ceiling. "Please, I'm sorry I was just, so hungry. I haven't eaten in days. Daddy please." He hits me with the belt again and a small yelp leaves my lips and I fall limp but still conscious and the chains around my wrists twist painfully . "You don't need to be eating all that food, too fat! Why do you think I locked the damn fridge!" He screams only to wave the belt around and pelt me with the end of it leaving behind an instant red welt and I can barely react before he's grabbing me by the jaw his fingers digging into my round cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"You better be a good girl to your husband because if you act anything like you are right now he will surely do worse than me! I'll make sure he knows how to discipline you the correct way." He waves his hand around the soundproof basement and roughly throws my face towards the ground but again my arms are cuffed to the chains above me so I don't meet the cold concrete below. "I promise I'll treat him like a king daddy just please, stop hitting me I beg you." I whimper as blood, sweat and tears drip from the cut on my lip and across my brow. He huffs smirking to himself, chuckling even, before throwing the belt to the ground and walking towards me unbuttoning his pants.

The next time I come to was early the next morning, I was back in my bedroom upstairs all my cuts I had received the night before cleaned and bandaged. I try to sit up but I'm stopped by the throbbing headache pounding in my skull, I lay back down with a grunt as I cover my eyes from the sunbeam that just flashed me in the eyes.

"God fucking dammit." I groan and slowly sit up, still groaning in annoyance from my pounding head, then of course my alarm for school had to scream bloody fucking murder in my left ear and I jolt upright. "Son of a bitch! I'm so fucking late! Fuck fuck fuck!" I curse under my breath as I scramble to get dressed for school, nothing fancy just the normal black skinny jeans, black band tee, a flannel and a pair of converse.

I yank my bag off the back of my desk chair and run out of my bedroom like a bat out of hell. Making my way through the living room quietly and just when the front door is within arms reach is when my father clears his throat from his chair. "Forgetting something?" He purrs, obviously still hungover from the night before. "O-of course not d-daddy." I choke on the last word turning around quickly to place a kiss on his cheek before practically running through the door, closing it gently and almost running the whole way to school.

I barely get to first period by the skin of my ass, if it wasn't for the couple making out in front of my locker for two minutes longer than necessary, I wouldn't have to sprint before Mrs. Luce closed her door. "Okay class, today we are going to start reading a book called The Graduate..." Her voice was quickly drowned out by my best friend Emily nudging my shoulder with her own. "So did your father bang you up or did you fall into a thorn bush again?" She asks sarcastically while giving her red hair a flip over her shoulder. "I really don't want to do this with you right now Em." I lean over to whisper to her then take out my notebook.

Now, Emily has been my best friend since my mother died in a car accident coming home from her nursing job across town. A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel causing his truck to hit the side railing and flip completely over crushing her car like a soda can, like it was nothing. But that was eight years ago and I wasn't all that close to my mom like I wanted to be because after she had me she went into a deep depression. She had her good days though and those are the days I will never forget.

Does Emily know that my dad beats me for anything I do that he finds wrong?

Yes.

Does she know what happens after he's done beating me?

No.

I could never burden her with that knowledge because knowing her the police would get involved and fuck, if my dad ever found out that I told her I'd be dead within the hour and thrown over a bridge somewhere. I can't help but shiver at the thought as I glance at her for a second before responding. "Even if I did fall into a thorn bush you'd know it was bullshit within a second." I pop back, she rolls her eyes as the teacher clears her throat and our heads snap back to the front. 

"We graduate this year!" Emily yells into the bustling hallway of our local high school with her arms stretched above her head and lets out a yawn. "Just a few more months and we are outta here!" She beams with a bright boxy smile which is infectious and I smile back at her my eyes squinting. "I think I might go live with my grandparents after graduation. They live out on this eighty acre farm far away from the city and I think being out there will just help me get my fucking shit together." I grumble imagining the life I could of had if I stayed with them after my mother died.

"Then you would live so far away from me!" Emily whined as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a lazy fashion that has her body slumping into mine. "Girl get the fuck off of me! You're so heavy!" I tease and she feigns hurt by clutching her chest with her mouth hung wide open. "How dare you! Are you calling me fat?" I laugh softly and close her mouth for her with my index finger. "Of course not babes, if one of us is fat it's me" I scoff and keep walking towards the exit with her right arm still over my shoulder.

"You are not fat Y/n/ m/n! You are curvy and gorgeous! Don't let what your father or anyone else says to heart because that's how they tear you down to their level and nobody wants that." She pouts jutting out her bottom lip for a dramatic effect and for a bonus she gives her best puppy eyes. "Oh come on you know it was just a joke, I know okay." She lets out a huff of air that has her red curls fall against her freckled cheeks. "I just want you to know you're worthy of real love okay? Don't ever doubt that, please."

As we walk out of the front doors the quarterback of our stupid football team comes barreling towards the stairs pushing past me causing me to fall backwards and hit my head on the last step. "Fuck!" I yell slowly sitting up to touch the back of my  head only to pull it back to reveal a dark crimson liquid sitting on my finger tips. "Holy shit Y/n! Do I need to call an ambulance?" Emily the ever caring friend is kneeling above me, the sun suddenly becomes too bright and I close my eyes only for the black void around me to start spinning. I open my eyes again as I try to focus on her face. "I-I'll be f-fine Emmy. D-don't worry about it." I stutter hard and quickly lose consciousness, the last thing I hear is her yelling for help as she called the emergency services.

I wake up a few times in the ambulance as they asses the damage to the back of my head but other than a few fuzzy faces, muffled voices and a faint beeping noise is all I can hear when I'm not entirely lucid. 

Once I wake up again for the second or maybe third time I'm sitting in a hospital bed with an IV hooked into my arm and a blood pressure cuff sitting on the other. I groan at the blinding lights above me as a nurse walks in and turns them down for me. "Good evening Miss, L/n?" She looks to me from her clip board with a fake smile plastered on her face and I give her a slight nod.

"You've received a concussion and there is a few other scratches and bruises around your neck and arms. Not only that but you seem to be very dehydrated and malnourished, although." She looks over at me again this time from the computer located to the left of my bed and instead of her fake smile from before, her face adorns a disgusted look with her brows knitted together. "You seem to be fine." I roll my eyes at her and scoff.

"Well fuck lady next time just call me fat the first damn time why don't you?" I snap glaring at her with squinted eyes, I jump a little when Emily practically breaks the door down and comes rushing to my side. "Oh my god Y/n! I thought you were dead! You've been out for hours!" She sits on my bed and envelopes me in a hug then leans in close to my ear to whisper. "He's in the waiting room, has been for the last two hours, he looks pissed as all hell. What do you want me to do?" I look up at her with tears in my eyes and I hold them back but I know she can still see the fear behind them.

"Tell him that I'm awake because I have a feeling they're going to tell him anyways." I shoot the nurse one more glare before she walks out of the room taking her cheap perfume smell with her. "Do you want me to stay? We can call your grandparents and you can stay there?" She has always urged me to get the hell out of this town and away from my father as soon as I turned eighteen last summer but I always gave her some sort of excuse to stay. "I thought you said it was too far?" I half joked earning a teary eyed smile from her. "There is no distance that can separate two soul sisters." She gave her signature boxy smile but even that felt forced. 

Just when I was about to speak again my mouth instantly shuts when I smell the alcohol pouring from the man I hate the most, my father. "Hey sugar. How are ya feeling?" He asks sickeningly sweet, laying it on much too thick I wince worried it would give me a toothache. "I'm okay, Emily was quick on her feet, calling the ambulance when she did." I say in a hushed tone and pick at my fingers letting my head hang low staring at the off white blanket draped over my legs.

"That's good to hear, thank you so much." He turns to Emily who has to fix her resting bitch face into a small smile as she tries not to scowl at the horrid thing in front of her. "Of course, just looking out for my soul sister." She briefly looks down at me, winking, before nudging my shoulder with her arm lovingly. "Right." He pauses looking between us before he clears his throat to say something but the doctor comes through the door and he quickly shifts his gears to focus on the man." Hello everyone, I'm assuming you're her father?" He asks in his baritone voice like a cowboy with years of roughing it out in nature for a few years, his voice has a nice gravel tone to it as well.

Please keep me overnight, please please please, I repeat over and over inside my head as the doctor looks over my charts again. The next sentence that comes out of the doctor's mouth confirms my worst fear. "Her concussion isn't as bad as previously thought and she seems to be doing better I don't see any sway in her motions while she sits on the bed so I don't see why you couldn't take her home today. Is that something you want to-" my poor excuse for a dad quickly interrupts him at the thought of taking me home early. "Yes, yes please I just want to get my little girl home." My father speaks pretending to be worried about me, I begin to say something in an act of defiance but the words slip back down my throat when he shoots me a warning glare and I quickly shut my mouth. "Perfect, I'll get the paperwork!" He walks out of the room leaving Emily and I with my shit father.

I don't know what day it is, but what I do know is that I'm starving and my stomach is trying to eat itself alive as it roars out a low growl and my stomach flips when I dry heave because of the nausea swirling around my head. I can't keep a coherent thought long enough to collect myself up off the thin mattress on the cold basement floor the only thing shielding me from the cold wisps of air is a single brown, blood stained sheet.

I hear footsteps to my left and flinch hard and scramble towards the corner of the brick wall behind me and try to make myself as small as possible as he stalks towards me. "You're awake. Good." He pats my head as I stare off at the ground behind him and he takes a deep breathe only to sigh in annoyance. "I'm sorry for all of this. You know ever since your mother died I haven't... well, I haven't been the best father to you." He leans down to my level with his hands on his knees but I don't react too lost in my own headspace, still focusing on the growing wet spot from the pipe above.

That's when I receive a blow to the side of my head and I fall sideways onto the ground with a thud. My vision is blurry and I roll over just enough to see something silver in his hand. "Look at me when I'm talking to you bitch!" He yells, I'm shaking with fear and anger as he continues screaming profanities at me. "This is what I get for letting you go to that public school, boys probably touch you all the time huh?" He spats and I flinch when he raises his hand to me and he chuckles. "Pathetic whore. I bet you're even sleeping with your best friend too. You two seem awfully close to just be friends. Tell me sweetheart, how does she taste?"

It's in full view now and my eyes widen at the sight of a gun in his hand, fear clouding my mind and I need to think and fast if I'm getting out of here alive, I can't do this anymore the beatings with starvation all of it. I stare at it for a moment before I quickly stand on my knees and knock him over his head hits the brick wall while the gun slides across the concrete and I scramble to grab it. 

I stand shakily on my feet with the gun in hand and aim it at the asshole sitting at the ground, he looks up at me after he wipes the blood off with his sleeve, fear evident in his eyes. "Now just, hold on a second Y/n." He puts his hands out in front of him as if that would deflect the bullet that I could release by pulling the trigger.

"Please baby, I just- you remind me so much of your mother I- I couldn't help but try to protect you in any way that I could. Please baby I'm your daddy, I don't want to hurt you." I stare at him, tears streaming down my red cheeks as he tries to use my mother as an excuse for me to not pull the trigger and all I see is red. "Hurt me?" I say softly. "Hurt me?" I scream as my hands and body shake with adrenaline coursing through my veins. "YOU WILL NEVER HURT ME AGAIN!"

*BANG*

*BANG BANG BANG* 

I don't remember talking to the police or walking out to sit on the back of the ambulance or the EMT patching up the gash on my forehead near my hairline. What I do remember is Emily running towards me with my grandparents behind her trailing as close as they can at their old age. "Y/n? Y/N! I heard what happened oh my gods are you okay babydoll?" I look up at her my cheeks wind bitten, my eyes red and puffy from crying. "I did it. I killed him. I murdered my own father." My voice void of all emotion and despite how I look I let go of the breath I was unaware I was holding and put my face in my hands taking a shaky breath.

"I'm free." 

After the police have gotten my statement on what all happened and a timeline for what has been going on for the last eight years, when I get to the part about what my father did after he had nearly beaten me to death on more than one occasion, a state of mind where I couldn't say no or fight him off, Emily looks at me like her whole world just came crashing down into an unyielding forest fire.

She doesn't say anything, she knows talking about the bullshit of it all would only makes things worse, turning to my grandparents I greet them and they give me hugs and positive words before they have me pack a suitcase or two and come out to the farm. Standing behind their old hatchback I turn to my best friend with tears in my eyes and hers too.

"Well, I guess this is it huh? You're really leaving me." She pouts and I giggle at her words on her adorable face as she pulls out her boxy smile. "Don't miss me too much okay? When you finally get your license." I give her a knowing look before she waves her hand in front of her face while rolling her eyes, I reach out and grab her hand swinging it loosely between us.

"Please come and visit? I'd hate to live a life without my soul sister next to me." She chokes out a sob and a sniffle before wiping away her salty tears. "Fine, but, if that horse nips at me again like it did when we were kids. I'm turning it into glue." She playfully nudges my side as we share one last hug as my grandfather tucks the last bag into the trunk.

Time flies while helping my grandparents take care of their eighty acre farm. I'm always outside doing something whether that's helping passer by's and their hybrids (which is still something I have to get used to, hybrids I mean) find the right walking trails or simply taking care of smaller hybrids who have come across the farm because they had been running from the hybrid control van, some don't even make it outside of the city and dark alley's much less all the way out here but the ones that do have a remarkable will to get the hell out of dodge. 

My grandfather passes away four years later and the work that has to be done outside takes a toll on my grandma so I tell her to leave the yard work to me. Once she left it to me to keep everything in order outside everything began to run smoothly again, more hybrids seemed to come in for either a quick meal or to rest and leave by morning. It was never more than maybe two or three hybrid's at a time and I got to learn about them from the ones who weren't too scared to talk to humans, I've almost been bitten three times within the first few weeks of being at the farm, lesson learned. 

"Grandma, you know you can't be up and down like this. You're doctor said to stay in your wheelchair if you have to move around and ask for help when you obviously need it." I scold her and she grumbles in defeat, I've caught her trying to reach the top shelf yet again for the third time today. I set my grandfather's old cowboy hat on the hook next to the door as I take off the leather vest and throw it over the kitchen chair at the table.

"I know dear, you were outside tending to the horses and cows, you already have so much on your plate and I didn't want to disturb you. I know how much you love it out there and don't think I don't notice you keeping an extra eye out for any hybrid in need either." I smile down at her very short stature and reach up to grab what she needed from the top shelf, barely but I got it. "I know I just... with the stories I've heard from the hybrids that have come and gone and the endless medical training I've gotten by stitching some of them up. I feel so sorry for them grandma. They've had a shit hand dealt to them, I just wanna help where I can, if I can."

She looks at me with a small smile on her face and taps my cheek with her cold hands. "You are just like your mother, a heart of gold and a willingness to help anyone who needs it, no matter the cost. One of these days you're gonna find a good man who treats you like the treasure that you are doll, I just hope I'm here to see that day." I scoff at her as I take off my work boots and set them next to the front door. "Grandma, you know I hate it when you talk like that. Now, please will you just sit down and eat dinner with me? I'll make some breakfast for dinner, the way you like, crazy lady."

It's not even a few weeks later that my grandmother is admitted to the hospital, the doctors going through every test they could think of as I sit in the waiting room in my work clothes about ready to bust through those double doors and give those so called doctors a piece of my mind for taking so damn long. A few more minutes pass and I feel a tug at my bell bottom jeans.

I look over my phone to see and little coyote hybrid, she's wearing a pretty pink dress and princess shoes with a small crown on top of her head wrap. "Are you a cowboy?" She asks innocently as she pulls the bottom of my pants crumpled in her small pale hand. I lean down to her level as her owner and what looks to be her mother walk up behind her, I lean in close and whisper in her ear like it's the world's most precious secret.

"I'm something better, a cowgirl." I lean back and watch the little girls expression change from curiosity to confusion. "I thought only boys could do that." She states as her mother reaches for her hand. "Girls can do things just as good, if not better, than boys can you just have to put your whole heart into it and never give up." I give her a little high five as she turns to her owner with bright eyes and a new obsession.

"Johnny! I'm gonna be a cowgirl when I grow up!" She jumps up and down as her mother whispers to me. "Thank you, we took Dove out of her room so she could exercise her little legs a few minutes ago. She's been so drained since her last chemo but seeing and talking to you has brought the light back into her eyes, thank you, so much." I give her a small nod as she shuffles to catch up to her daughter and owner but it's when I see him hold her close and kiss her on the lips, maybe he wasn't just her owner but perhaps a lover?

"Y/n L/n?" I hear a male nurse call out from around the corner, his face is pale and I could tell he doesn't do this regularly. "Yes, that's me. So what's wrong with my grandmother?" I ask and quickly close the app I was just on and the man stays silent and I scoff with a small giggle at the end to deflect the worse. "She's okay, right?" I say slowly as I walk towards the nurse and he chokes on air.

"Spit it out." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Please, I'm begging you dude." I bring my hands together in front of me and he finally says the words I had been dreading to hear. "Your grandmother passed away a little while ago. The cancer-" I hold my hand up to keep him from uttering another word.

I knew my grandmother was sick but I didn't know she had cancer. "Why type of cancer?" I cross my arms and look up at the man who seems to have sobered up after I snapped at him. "Breast cancer, st-stage four." He stutters and I fall to my knees with my face in my hands bawling as he awkwardly tries to comfort me. 

A few weeks later her funeral is held out by the weeping willow I planted when grandpa had passed away, in four years it's grown quite a bit easily making it the biggest tree out by the small pond out on the back forty acres. I sit there and stare at the cold headstone my tears have long since dried up and all those who had came long gone for about three hours now.

I sniffle and lay the flowers on both of their graves. "You weren't supposed to leave me yet." I let out a sob as I start to cry again. "You were supposed to, see me healthy, and happy with someone I love and who loves me just as much in return. You s-said- y-you sa-" I break out into a full crying meltdown and our new grey mare I've named Dove after the little girl from the hospital starts nudging me with her nose and I can't help but giggle.

"I know Dove, it's just all so sudden. They left me literally everything they had in their name. The house, the trucks, the endless amount of money that came from who knows fucking where. The equipment, the entire eighty acres? It's a lot, how am I supposed to do this all myself?" I ask Dove like she could answer me, she just shakes her head. "I know baby. I'll get it done, no matter what, for them."

For the next three years I do my best to keep the farm up and running. I keep my horse and the neighbors horses in the stable during the winter just around the large hedge separating it from the backyard of the house. I didn't have to but I sold the other two horses to make the workload a little easier on myself and about a quarter of the cattle to keep my head from spinning. I got a few little chickens and put them in the hen house located at the edge of the big empty backyard.

I stand on the wrap around porch one early morning with an energy drink in hand instead of coffee because I have a lot to do before the storm rolls in later tonight. Buckling my spurs into place over my boots and get to walking to the stable where Dove sits in her pen waiting for the morning workload to begin. "Hi sweetheart, ready to get started?" I pat her neck and she chirps with what seems like excitement then she happily shakes her head and I take her bridle and saddle off of the nearby wall with a big smile and get her strapped in before we start with herding the cattle to the feed mill. 

By the end of the day the storm clouds have rolled in and it's slowly starting to rain. I have to quickly close the cattle gate before the calves can high tail it out of there, it's their first big storm I have no doubt they can feel it coming to a start. I put a lock on the gate and run over to Dove and jump onto her back grabbing the straps and pull her to the left when the rain really starts to come down." Come on sweetheart let get the fuck out of here and get you back to your pen." I urge her to go faster when I hear the impending thunder and I catch a glimpse of lightning closer than I would have liked.

Dove is settled in with a weighted blanket and her eye shield on. "Don't worry love Dove, you'll be okay, I wish I could take you inside with me." I rub her nose and down her jaw and neck before a deafening crack of thunder booms over head making me jump two feet into the air, my hair standing on end and I quickly move around trying not to be struck by lightning and lucky for me my hair starts to lay flat on my head again.

"Okay, that's enough for tonight. I'm leaving now." I pull my jacket over my head and start running towards the house, once inside I take my wet jacket off and toe off my boots as I shiver. "Fuck it got cold fast, that has to be a new record." I light the logs in the fireplace and take my soaked pants off, laying them over the gate in front of the fire to dry out so I can wear them in the morning to fix the damage this storm is no doubt going to cause.

Taking a deep breath to relax and unwind I sigh when my stomach growls loudly, the only thing I had today was that energy drink. "Ugh, this whole eating to survive thing is so annoying." I grumble as I haul my big ass off the floor and pick at the fire before walking towards the kitchen and I feel eyes on me and I freeze in front of the sliding glass door leading out to the stable.

Looking out to my left afraid to see a face or glowing eyes staring back at me, lucky for me I only see my reflection against the darkness outside before a bolt of lightning strikes a nearby tree scaring the shit out of me. "Fuck! Calm down Thor this isn't a competition!" I shout softly from the safety of my house when a loud clap of thunder shakes the ground under my feet. "Okay! I'm sorry!" I shrink back into my kitchen scared I could be smited (smoted?) at any given moment. 

After I make breakfast for dinner, which I made a little more than I had originally planned because the storm outside kept distracting me from the task at hand. I look back out at the stable from the window above the sink and catch a glimpse of something or actually, a few somethings, run into the big red barn where Dove is housed and my heart jumps into my throat.

What if they steal my horse? Not to mention the amount of farm equipment located in that barn that will cost an arm and a leg to replace if any of it comes up missing. Then there's my grandparents old trophies and pictures from when grandpa would ride bulls and grandma being a barrel runner.

All those memories that could be destroyed within a matter of minutes if I didn't go out there and find out who or what those shadows are. I growl a few curse words as I jump into my pants and slide my boots on then grab my hat off the hook before throwing my thick jacket over myself and zipping it up. I take a deep breath as I grab the handle to the back door and brave the storm to get to the barn across the way. 

Tag List: @socksfirst1

[xnchxntmxnt]

Hey! May I ask for a pt 2 of the "skating in heels" piece you wrote, please? No pressure if you don't want to do it!

WHEW OKAY anon. Love ya. Thank you for the request. I forgot it was there for several months im sorry 😭 forgive me

Characters: Kojiro Nanjo, Langa Hasegawa

Warnings: above text if needed

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part one

Kojiro “Joe”  Nanjo 

Small warning: talk of injuries but its in a light hearted and teasing way, nothing graphic

Alright

See this guy

He’s gonna think its impressive

Clapping, cheering, the whole bit

You can probably sense a but coming

BUT

He’s watching and he’s like

That cant be THAT hard

Ahaha yeah. Sure joe

So you scour the internet trying to find him a pair for 2in heels (start a little easy on him)

They usually dont make heels in his size but dammit, youre stubborn, you find some. Theyre international shipping so you gotta pay the extra money and wait a little longer, but he tested you and now he gets to reap the benefits 

Honestly, i love being petty with kojiro because he wouldn’t get upset he just matches your energy

 So these heels come and you take him to a skate park on a less busy night when there aren’t any teenagers around. And bring a helmet just in case

“I haven't worn a helmet skating since i was sixteen!” “I know, and you got a concussion two weeks later. Wear it” 

So he does, but makes fun of you for it endlessly

Until he falls on his ass coming down off the halfpipe and slams his head into the concrete. So he was happy for it then

Now he just has a bruised butt and ego, but no bruised BRAIN 

(dont get concussions kids, i did and it was not fun)

He gets up, dusts himself off, and grumbles something about how he put his foot in the wrong place and he’ll get it next time

(he’s not used to the gap between the heel of the shoe and his toes. Makes a difference)

After making some excuses he tries again. Falls again, and this time its because “the shoes aren’t broken in”

Several tries and excuses later, he gives up and puts his sneakers back on. He respects your ability a lot more after that

Langa “Snow” Hasegawa

Shocked pikachu face

Not much more i can say

Langa is a man of few words and i think he’d just stand there staring at you

You decided to show off to him & reki at the skate park randomly one day (they were very curious what the shoes were for) and pull a couple small tricks on the board

Reki’s all sorts of excited and cheering for you because he’s never seen someone DO that before

Langa just. Sits there mouth slightly open

(gets made fun of for it gently lol)

When youre done and skate back over langa begins spinning you around and checking you for injuries or anything because “that can be very dangerous” and he’s worried about you skating in shoes that are not meant to be skated in

But when he’s finally satisfied and knows that youre okay and didn’t pull anything he’s slightly smiley

“That’s very impressive”

“Thanks, langa”

Proceeds to talk about it for the next SEVERAL days with reki, but doesn’t tend to bring it up with you. No one’s sure why, but he just cant stop singing your praises when you’re not around

Not out of malice, he just does that. Talks a lot about the people he loves when theyre not there. Cute habit of his

He thinks youre so cool though and loves to watch you skate when you put your heels on (or just watch you skate in general

taglist

@grays321 @dear-koi @sirimirihiro @momoewn @poeberlyavenue

[ihaveforgortoomany]

Discussing *that* person with the 2.2 story (again so much and yet so little given at the same time)

Again 1.9 and onwards spoilers. I can be alternating 1.9 specifc and 2.2 speculation posting.

Urd. Or Besmert. Or Martha. Or Delores (or whatever spelling the last one is idk right now) but for the sake of simplicity for this post I will call her Urd since this name is the one popping the most in the story.

List of confirmed things:

All of the above are the same person, why multiple names is still up to speculation

Seems to be a doctor of sorts, cared for 6 and 37 on the island, now looking after veterans and Vertin in 2.2

Urd is the Friend From Afar, literally carrying the typewriter and she open with her typing just like Rayashki and Rimet Cup.

The Marble Chair in Urd's room belonged to the White Marble of Doves back in the Foundation.

Urd knows Igor (well the other way since Urd seems to go silent near the end of the story, again lack of translation means I lack substantial story bits and information).

There was a battle before the Storm, Urd did something and whatever it was involved pressing the red button on the chair.

For some reason she is important for the Manus, or more specifically for Sophia and those who directly follow her (again it is hard to tell if FMN and Sophia are working together, likely not but still align in common interest)

Similarities between Vertin and Urd:

Tendancy for physical affection - when Vertin is unconscious and Urd is caring for her, Urd does make a comment on Vertin's hair while stroking it and that kinda reminds me of of the head and hands voicelines when Vertin either headpats or hand holds members of the suitcase. (Also Nala why are you poking Vertin's nose she nearly drowned lol.)

Self sacrificial - This patch reminds me so much of the story beats in Book 2, Urd like Vertin is willing to give herself up for the safety of others, completely disregarding her own safety the moment Vertin was in danger.

Other notes on Urd: (Consider this theory time)

Igor seems to know Urd on a personal level, they worked together in the past before the Storm, and again mention a large battle before the Storm, whether this battle led to the Storm is unclear. It almost implies that whatever Urd did by pressing the button on the Marble chair led to the Storm potentially? If anything we can possible start to narrow down branches in the Foundation involved with the first Storm to Zeno and the White Marble Doves of the Foundation. Whatever happened there caused the Storm maybe?

Again why kidnap Urd? Does Sophia recognise its Martha she asked Igor to kidnap? Igor seems convinced that taking Urd seems to be in the best interest of whatever his motivations are (I need to watch it again). Why Urd and not Vertin? Arcana wanted Vertin so maybe this is some form of 4D chess where with Urd being taken by the Manus, Vertin could be allured to a trap?

Urd is also an anomaly here, she does not seem to acknowledge Igor's questions, and how is she here if she is Martha as we saw her disappear? The only concrete thing we have gotten so far is that Urd was at one point a member of the Foundation, affiliated with Zeno with Igor, potentially a high ranking member of the Foundation.

There is also a sense of tragic irony, Urd cannot see who Vertin is, and Vertin was unconscious the whole time she was with Urd (dammit BP whyyyyy).

Truly Urd is the engima of R1999, pun intended, cannot figure out anything right now, at least we have some confirmations and hints towards what led to the first Storm and Urd being a higher member at some point.

[bestworstcase]

One thing that I've not been keen on in hindsight, is just how much what you call "pop writing advice" is not that helpful to me. Or how they get used by people in critique.

Because most of them tends to be exceptionally vague borderline nothing bits. Like a series having "good dialogue" or "bad dialogue", and unless it's the most incredibly obvious lowest common denominator kind of thing that anyone who listens could tell is bad dialogue, it's never properly elaborated on.

For example, they describe good dialogue as "witty, subtle, etc" or something else. Like okay, can you tell me what that even constitutes as? Any examples you want to provide? Is witty supposed to be two characters bantering with each other with MCU styled dialogue, or is it something else entirely? Is your definition of good dialogue supposed to just be empty snark that you jingle in front of people like keys while being devoid of any actual value? What is bad dialogue then; something you consider boring or you just not caring for that particular style of writing? Give me context dammit!

Like, maybe my mind just latches onto the weird things, but I'm always left with more questions than answers because of these kinds of advice and critiques, because there's never anything concrete to work with. Just a vague nothingburger that I'm expected to dissect without any clear context as to WHAT I'm supposed to get out of it.

mmmmhm. in general pop writing advice tends to approach stories as a product you intend to sell as widely as possible as opposed to, like, art, and when it's about dialogue or plot structure it often presumes a target audience of indifferently distractible readers/viewers who need to be spoonfed witticisms and action to get them to stick with a story. which is frankly insulting to readers and viewers as well as to writers.

anyway. i don't know if you were trying to fish for this but here's some actual advice, or at least how i think about some things:

dialogue -> what characters do not say is often just as important as what they do. if the character in question is lying or an unreliable narrator or otherwise untrustworthy, what they don't say is more important than what they do. it's almost always worth thinking about what a character might hold back in a conversation, and the things they might circumlocute around, and why. even scrupulously honest people can be forgetful, and nobody can say everything that's on their mind all the time.

dialogue -> is characterization. how a character speaks is one of the single most effective ways to make characters feel distinct from one another; if everyone sounds the same it's much harder for the reader to keep track of who is who. rhythm is everything. you can slow a character's speech down by using fewer contractions and using 'longer' syntax (not necessarily longer words, but longer sounds; 'moment' is a longer word than 'minute' because of the vowel sounds) and longer sentences; or speed it up with the reverse. no contractions at all can make a character sound stilted, overly formal, or very careful depending upon rhythm. try reading dialogue out loud to figure out the natural cadence of the words.

characterization -> i swear by this

plot -> is what happens when the circumstances of the world interact with character choices. 'deus ex machina' (and 'diablus ex machina') are not bad per se; the trick is to prepare the audience ahead of time by subtly establishing the possibility of such an intervention. the term deus ex machina derives from a convention of ancient greek theater, wherein divine intervention was a regular an unremarkable feature. to the audience of these plays, the sudden appearance of a god at the end of the story would not have felt abrupt or random because the gods were intricately intertwined with and present in day-to-day life.

thus, when translating this device into a story for modern audiences, it's important to develop a similar sense of immediacy and presence. deus/diablus ex machina is unexpected (so you don't foreshadow it) but should be explicable (so the audience already knows this kind of thing can happen) and ideally thematically cogent. i find that it's helpful to think of the world itself as a sort of 'character' participating in the plot in the same way the actual characters do.

theme -> think about theme the way visual artists think about color palette and cohesion. theme is what binds the story together into a unified whole. what purpose does a character's arc serve to the greater narrative? how does it rhyme with other parts of the story—or if it doesn't, is there a reason for breaking the pattern? do all the pieces fit together in a coherent way? you don't need to have an Idea or a Statement or a Concept necessarily, though it is helpful to be able to say in very broad terms what a story is "about" thematically, e.g. bitter snow is about liberation. because that gives you something concrete that you can use as a reference when thinking about what a character's arc is about and whether it fits or not.

[seashellcosmos]

dammit….. kokichi’s worse nightmare being about rantaro.. I dont think people are doing what they should be doing with that information.

them in your au makes me physically ILL, i cant, they make me so sick. do you hav any fluffy/angsty headcanons about them i can consume- i mean read like a normal person? its fine if you dont btw!! I just want them to be happy, man…

Oh heh someone caught that little detail heh heh…. I wonder what exactly his nightmare was about? It is a mystery…

I can give you some stuff on them in the AU though!

I think the relationship came about completely accidentally, they were both focused on other things and Rantaro was pretty severely injured when they met, neither of them were thinking about even really being friends it all just sorta…. Happened.

Kokichi as a person is so… messy. That’s really the only good word for it. I think it’s a serious testament to Rantaro’s patience that he was able to take the time to break through to the Real Kokichi™️ at all.

But anyway, cute headcanon time:

They’ve definitely painted each other’s nails at least once. Rantaro had a lot of free time during recovery and he needed something to do heh heh. Kokichi’s nails looked perfect (though they didn’t last long at all) and when Kokichi tried to do Rantaro’s he got a little distracted and they ended up being smeared, but Rantaro still liked them a lot.

Kokichi kept Rantaro’s ring in his pocket because he was always afraid he’d accidentally melt it, he’d only ever wear it on occasions where he knew with 100% certainty that he wouldn’t have any reason for his power to get a little overactive. (So… anytime he was around Rantaro, because that avocado can calm him down just by being standing the same room as him now)

The actual conversation of them deciding they were on fact dating was probably unbearable tbh. It would be like an hour of Kokichi avoiding giving any concrete answer and Rantaro just… waiting for an actual response. He’s the most patient guy on the planet, he’ll wait an hour and half for Kokichi to finally work his way around to saying “yeah let’s do that- hold my hand now actually”

Kokichi is very obnoxious about giving affection, will climb up on Rantaro’s shoulders to kiss his cheek, very loudly announce that he’s about to kiss or hug him, hold his hand and swing it around so much it sort of looks like he might dislocate his own arm in the process- but he is a MESS when Rantaro’s the one to initiate romantic gestures first. Even if it’s something small like… Rantaro kissing his hand or something, Kokichi’s face goes red and he has to try and joke his way out of having an Actual Feeling or he’ll melt into a little puddle right then and there

Rantaro’s an older sibling- to many many younger ones- so he’s more used to helping out for others than having other people do things for him, Kokichi absolutely tries to rectify this as often as he can. He pays very close attention to everything from Rantaro’s favorite soda to which music style he prefers listening to on the radio and Kokichi will make sure Rantaro gets things he enjoys too. He also tries to stop Rantaro from always overexerting himself for other people but…. Well you see how that worked out.

And to end things on a sadder note, since I am feeling evil today: Rantaro forgetting him completely hurt Kokichi more than he’d ever want to admit. It sort of took this tentative new hopeful worldview he was developing and shattered it into a million pieces. He really just… can’t have good things. No matter what. Nothing ever works out okay. (But we’ll learn more about all that later in the fic, heh heh)

[misstodorokifreelance]

Birthday Boy (Bakugou x F!Reader)

Gah! I know im super super late to this. Bakugou's birthday was ages ago, but I have become inspired. Perhaps my late night animated Bakudeku comics have finally brought me a wholesome idea. Anyway, here is a one shot, drabble, something or other that popped into my brain. Anyway in this short story you are Y/N Midoriya, the twin sister of our precious Deku after he's suddenly up and disappeared. (Vigilante stuff? Who knows?) With Bakugou feeling his friend's absence, he struggles to comprehend what had become the norm for him, and takes some solace in the presence of his best friend's sister. Tw: Mentions of self harm, mental health stuff, Bakubaby's usual swearing.

It was funny. In a way, Katsuki had been perfectly content not having to deal with Deku on his birthday, but now that this was the first year he'd gone without the usual over the top well wishes, he missed it. He missed Deku. Not that he was dead. Hopefully. But it sure felt different not having him around, not having the usual comforting presence that could stop his darkest thoughts. Katsuki had felt pain before, of all types, but he had never truly thought about inflicting what he felt was truly deserved. After all, what had happened with All Might, that was all his fault, and he knew it. Leaning over the balcony railing off his dorm room, Katsuki didn't try to stop the few tears that dared to leak from his eyes. He didn't even try to wipe them away. It was his fucking birthday. Where was that damn nerd when he needed him the most? The tears flowed a little faster now, and with a growl Bakugou dragged the end of his long sleeve over his face, feeling disgusted with himself for being so weak. Happy Birthday? Fuck off with that shit, he thought, turning away from the sunset outside and glaring back inside his dimly lit room. He'd received a handful of gifts from Kirishima, Ashido and the other Bakusquad members; all trivial tough guy shit that sure he'd use but wasn't anything majorly special. Not like Deku would give him. Deku knew what he liked. All Might figures, dumb movies about monsters and stereotypical happy endings, the odd comic book. That was what Deku gave him, and it was what Katsuki truly treasured. He settled himself to sitting with a lonely soda on his balcony, wondering where Deku was now, when Katsuki's arms were cut and bleeding. When he couldn't rest easy worrying about his friend, or screaming at his demons... "Dammit, nerd. The one year I need you-" he spit, setting the half empty cola harder than necessary on the concrete. A few more tears splashed their way onto the front of his shirt, and Katsuki sighed. He'd need to wash it now, great.

At that moment, there was the quietist of knocks at his door. "Who the fuck-" Katsuki wasn't at all in the mood to deal with anyone, so he ignored the knocking. Only whoever was at the door wasn't going anywhere, and knocked again, a little louder than before. "Kacchan?" he heard a voice call through the door, and he sprung up, immediately wondering if it was Deku. Only it was a gentler voice than his, and there was no stutter in the next few words. "Hey, can I come in?" The hell does she want? Opening the door, Katsuki looked down at you, momentarily forgetting that his face was tear stained, and his shirt marked by the salty drops of betrayed emotion. Your green hair, sleeker than Deku's, was loose over your shoulders, and you wore plain leggings and an All Might shirt which you had planned to sleep in. Katsuki blinked. "Y/N? Thought you'd be home what with damn Deku missing." "I was. This came for you, it's from my brother. He asked me to deliver it, he couldn't stay." "You saw him? Is he-is he okay?" Katsuki said quickly, ushering you into his room and shutting the door with a snap. He'd barely registered the rest of what you had told him, desperate to hear any news. You nodded slowly, holding out a small wrapped box in your hands. "He's....alright. Happy Birthday, by the way, from both me and Izuku." Katsuki took a second to realize you were handing him something, until you placed the box in his shaking hands, feeling how cold they were. He noticed the difference, almost wanting to lean into the warmth of your comparably smaller hands. He felt the scars along the palms and fingers, and as he pulled away, the tip of his index finger brushed over what felt to him like a burn. He'd always thought you were the stronger twin, having not been born quirkless like Deku. You'd inherited a fairly stronger version of your mother's telekinesis, and had never been one to refuse a fight or stand down before. But here you were, quiet and subdued in a way he'd never seen, standing with your hands laced anxiously together while he idled with the box in his hands. Shaking hard enough he had trouble undoing the bow, Katsuki opened the gift, and pulled something out of a tissue paper nest. He stared at the leather cuff, embedded with designs of All Might's signature hair tufts so it looked like a 'V' printed over and over. With the cuff was a small handwritten note, and he read it almost desperately. Kacchan, Happy Birthday. If it was safe for me to be with you at UA I would, so I asked Y/N to deliver this to you. Forgive me, I'll be back when I can. -Deku Katsuki didn't realize that he had stumbled back onto his bed, a sob wracking his frame. The box fell, forgotten to the floor, as he grasped the stylish cuff in his hands. You moved to his side, placing a comforting hand over his shoulders, and Katsuki didn't shrug you off for the first time possibly in your entire life. "I- fuck. If I hadn't gotten kidnapped, All Might would be alive, Deku wouldn't have to run. He'd be here. We'd be celebrating-I-this is all my fault-" He coughed, swallowing back more tears, while you gripped him tightly around his shoulders. "No, he chose this. You did nothing. Stop blaming yourself, and stop hurting over it. Deku wouldn't want that, he wouldn't want you to be hurting yourself cause of something you couldn't ever control. Okay?" Katsuki sniffed hard, and looked sideways at you. God those green eyes were hypnotic in the amber sunset glow. You were right, weren't you? But how did you know what he was- "You're not one to wear long sleeves this often," you murmured. Katsuki grimaced, and he looked deep into your eyes. He could see Deku there, though you had less freckles than him, and your lips were fuller. Still, he was there, in your features, and in the small smile you gave him. "Don't hurt like this," you said, moving your free hand to run up his arm, feeling the bandage he tried to hide under the sleeve. "I- know. I miss him, I

[teatheteal]

It had started out as one of those nights, the ones where she was back to her old daydreams full of adventures and worlds far removed from her own. It would have been fun, should have been, if it hadn't felt like something was off, that something was wrong.

Dreams were supposed to be airy and full of a sleepy daze one couldn't place until they drew awake, but this time it was different. Claudia felt the heaviness of lead and a resounding inferno that blanketed her entire body. It was so hard to breathe.

It was time to wake up.

However, as she closed her eyes and willed herself to wake, she only found that it did nothing save for intensifying the dread she had already been feeling.

Sharpness penetrated her chest all of a sudden, digging deep within, pulling at something that made her lurch while falling to her knees. Instinctively she tried to force herself to vomit as she felt something begin to rise in her throat but also found that, too, to be impossible.

Claudia clenched at her chest, her eyes squeezed shut as she attempted once more to come back to her body, to wake from this suffocating nightmare.

Wake up. Wake up! Wake up! I want to wake up god dammit!!!!

Her mind screamed, trying to force its way out, tearing at the fabric between dream and reality as desperately as she could. The result lead to a bleed that seeped through the cracks in her fingers, slowly coating them in crimson. Her grip tightened around something hard and finally she noticed the back end of a knife that protruded from her chest.

"W-wha…wha…" she could only choke out a response, the liquid in her throat finally pouring from her mouth and oozing down the concrete below. It took her a moment to realize it was the same crimson that was now covering her hands and chest.

Ku ku ku ku.

A snicker. A painfully familiar snicker. A snicker that made her feel sick.

Claudia's body trembled uncontrollably, eyes unable to stop themselves as her gaze tread upwards to find nothing but reality tearing itself apart. It was like it couldn't decide if it wanted to be awake or asleep.

"At last, Princess, I have found you," called out his haunting echo, a voice so deep it seemed to vibrate her entire soul before curling around it possessively. She wanted to throw up again, but only coughed up more blood which earned another round of laughter and another tug. It felt harder than before, threatening to tear at the seams of her body.

She could feel her legs staggering, weakness quickly spreading as she lost more of her ability to breathe properly. Her fingers gripped at the handle of the knife and tugged, but the sharp pain made her stop short. He laughed again

"By all means, try and pull it out. It'll just bring you to me faster."

Claudia gritted her teeth. She did not want to move, but she would surely die if she stayed, especially when the light of the sun was so close, right past the flickering bricks of the ally. Perhaps if she could make it… if she could reach.

With a careful step she moved forward, pain searing through her flesh, dragging away as if it was trying to peel it away from her bones while her eyes blurred and hindered her vision. It was so hard to keep balance, but she couldn't give up. Not when she was so close.

Eventually, even as her body slammed into the walls and floor, Claudia managed to drag her way towards the open street, hoping that if someone could find her, if someone could see her, they'd get her help. She could survive this. She had to survive this.

Alas, it was not meant to be.

The darkness erupted faster through the cracks, breaking down reality and forcing her mind back to the realm of in between waking and dreaming. This time came a hard yank that forced her to her knees, nearly uprooting the essence of her being that was now entangled in a crimson web. She could feel the strings around her throat tighten and tug, enticing her to look at him. She did not want to and he gave her no choice in the matter.

Forced to face him, her stomach plummeted thousands of feet as a harsh coldness spread across her body. Before her, a figure amidst the bleeding realities. There but not there; crimson eyes staring hungrily from the encroaching darkness, accompanied by a hum that murmured from his hidden, smiling lips.

"Mine. You are finally—”

His grip had tightened, pulling her closer before he stopped short. His eyes going wide, neck snapping in another direction as his grip loosened ever so slightly.

There. This was it. It was now or never. She had to get away or she'd never be let go. She had to get home. She had to get home.

I want to go home!!

A singular golden wish, like a comet flying through the night sky, pushing through the suffocating dark into a new horizon, to a home long since forgotten. She would not be taken. She would be free, free and far away to a place that felt safe. A place that felt like home.

[lady-grace-pens]

Follies Excerpt [11]

100k. Homegirl breaks a mirror + another bit from the Heads Up Seven Up snippet from this morning ;) I’m obsessed with these scenes

Taglist: @wordwizards @serafyyn @isabellebissonrouthier @flowerprose

•••

The devil fashions himself the epitome of casual. A lax European model with his hands stowed away in his pockets and his brows raised in layman’s sympathy, all but shrugging with a metaphorical cigar on his lips.

Much as I burn to cause a scene that would honor Cleopatra and the great actresses of long past… I flex my fists. Nothing more.

“So that’s it then?”

He goes to speak. I strike him twice, once per cheek. In the time it takes him to process my movements, I snatch the maroon blanket on his couch. Wrapping it around my body, I storm out the front door, not bothering to slam it behind me.

The street is nothing but a spotlight. A void of sun and the whites of eyes, with the concrete gradually baking my bare feet. Whispers fill my ears, the greatest proof that I’m making an utter spectacle of myself.

I sprint across the street and throw myself against the red door of home.

It doesn’t budge.

Fumbling with the knob yields me the same result, but it’s all I can think to do. Possessed by instincts, I drive myself into the damn thing again. And again. And again.

By a miracle, it opens. I stumble inside. It shuts behind me. I glance around but the place is soulless.

Cal. Where is she? My baby, she… Oh God. What of Pierre?

I whirl around. Ilya replaces my view of the door. Before he has room to interrogate me, I demand the whereabouts of my sister.

“She’s still with Pierre. Hospital decided to keep him and Matt a bit longer but they should be home soon.”

“She’s isn’t here? What do you mean she isn’t here? Where’s my sister? I—I need my… I need my…”

Ilya’s voice is a murmur to the titans groaning in my ears. The memory of Arthur pairs with insects skittering across my skin. I dash upstairs, to my room, and lock the door behind me. Fingers draw blood from my scalp as I slave over the empty stretch of floorboards.

In an onslaught of mania, I sweep the ornaments off my dresser. I tear down the lights and rip the tapestry from its hooks. The force of my screams sends me to my knees in the center of my room.

Dammit! Don’t I deserve more than this? Acting as if it never happened. Posing as if it’s anything lesser than what it is. Childish first love, the thrill of a summer fling, or the cool breeze.

Infatuation, at best.

I catch her snake eyes in the mirror above my dresser. For a moment I can’t register her as a fraction of myself. This rage can’t be my own. It can’t be human. It can only be a beast whose features are the envy of a snarling old olive tree.

My fingers coil around a candelabra laying at my hip. Heart raging, breath abandoned, I launch it at her with one fluid strike. Time crawls as glass rains down upon me. Laughter foams on my tongue, tickled by the crystalline shards glittering through the air. For something so dangerous, they carry themselves with the beauty and serenity of falling snow. My eyes flutter closed. I lift my head, even open my mouth for a taste.

Ilya’s feet thunder upstairs. Screaming my name, he sprints for my door and rams himself against it. The locks are old things, so they give way without much force, but for my life I can’t understand what possessed him. At the sight of me, his eyes bulge and his grip tightens around the doorframe, exclaiming, “Jesus! Fuck.”

Fractals of glass are splayed all around me. Each one is bonded to the other via streams of blood gushing from an unknown source. Perhaps multiple, considering the volume. They retain their function as a mirror, displaying my lazy smile and half-mooned eyes—though both are muddied by streaks of rust.

Turning over my limbs, I can’t resist a laugh. Crystals and crimson dress my body. Ilya gawks as if I were a circus freak, but I’ve never felt more divine. I could make an army of men worship me with my tongue of diamonds.

What good would that do when the one I love scorns me? What then? What now?

My coat of ecstasy slips. The head bows and the eyes grow fuzz, staring at nothing yet musing over everything. Silence rots my will to speak. Ideas stall and my joints lock.

Ilya scoops me into his arms. Caution bleeds through the cracks in his voice. Too many. Too obvious.

“Come on. Let’s go visit Pierre.”

•••

“Em.”

“What do you want from me?” I spring to my feet.

Arthur gapes through jaded lashes. Times skates on before he settles on the word, “Truth.”

I shake my head. My voice teeters off the edge of a rocky summit. My stomach has already taken the fall.

“I can’t be like you. I can’t.”

“But you can! You can.”

He floats to his feet, sweeping my hips into his palms before I have the mind to object. His face is centimeters from my own—acetone to our surroundings. The steam from our breath piles in the faint cracks of our smile lines. I part my lips. My hand finds it’s way to his stomach where I latch onto his belt. Our torsos collide, coaxing a moan from my lips. His grip tightens. Our foreheads touch.

I lick my lips, grazing his own. His mouth bursts with plums. Saccharine and tart create the exact impression I’d expect from our second first kiss.

“Last night melted your tongue so sweetly,” he utters, praise only fueling my acrid desire to suckle him dry. “You remembered our dream—”

Memory extracts the wool from my eyes. In a bout of agony, Arthur becomes my pillow and my punching bag. Think fraught caresses and impassioned pounding, lonely pleas versus touch-starved mangling. Each jerk of my head rubs my nose in my snot, spit, and tears as I wail into his chest.

“Please don’t make me say it. Not like this.”

He stopped holding me ages ago. I realize that only as my arms fall to my sides and my sobs begin dragging their tails. He scorns me with his arid pause, unchanging. My hope sticks to the morning grime costing my teeth.

His hand is a gavel clamping down on my shoulder. My sentence is proclaimed without having mentioned a word.

I wipe my nose with my sleeve. Upon the gathering of my wits, I straighten and look up to face the grave I’ve dug for myself.

[r-ando-m-w-rite-r]

Rough Beginnings

~a rev x ash~

i don’t really see these anywhere, and i found inspiration, so here it is.

some fluff, language, and ofc dirty talk (but kept to a minimum).

fyi i know at the end you guys might be thinking ‘wait but don’t robots NOT have parts to do...ykkkk...’ and you guys are right, he’s just not referring to THAT. you’ll see. anyways, enjoy!

---------------------------------- 

“Here friends, a medkit!” Pathfinder pinged heals inside the deathbox that was still warm to the touch. His squad had just gotten out of a fight, and everyone was trying to heal. 

“Give me that.”, Revenant growled out as he finished recharging his shields. Ash watched as Pathfinder quickly grabbed the red and white box. He handed it to the murder bot, who snatched it away without any recognition of the friendly squadmate. 

Ash just shrugged and began looking through another deathbox. She sorted through the contents, pinging a frag and a thermite. “Explosives here.”, she said in a monotone voice. 

“Take your paws off those, I need them.”, Revenant replied harshly, standing up from the corner he had been healing in, refreshed. Annoyance fluttered around in the back of her mind, and despite not wanting to start anything, she was bored and wanted something to bicker about. 

“Well what if I don’t?”, Ash snapped back, still in a monotone voice. She quickly stuffed the explosives into her bag as Revenant began making his way over. Even though she obviously wasn’t afraid of him, having him near her just gave her a feeling of insecurity. As he walked up beside her, she had to look up just to see his face. Seven inches really made a difference. 

He loomed over her, staring down into her face as she defiantly stared back. She was sick of him bossing people around, even though she didn’t care for Pathfinder very much and didn’t mind what happened to him. “You don’t wanna test me, missy.”, he growled, his voice ringing in her ears even after he stopped talking. He was irritated.

“Oh but I do.”, Ash replied, chuckling. “I like getting on your nerves.” She whispered the last part. Revenant made a weird sort of grunting noise before reaching out. However, his hand froze in midair before dropping back to his side, and he spun and took off in the other direction. She heard him muttering under his breath, and she could only imagine the vile things he was saying about her.

She looked over to see a confused Pathfinder just sitting there, watching Revenant storm off. He looked at her after a moment, but before he could say anything stupid, Ash walked off after her brooding teammate. This match was going to get interesting fast.

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

“Dammit!”, Ash heard Revenant shout as the totem shattered. The inner shadow she had acquired sucked out of her, and for a second her vision throbbed and her body was not her own. But soon she regained control, and just in the nick of time, because Bloodhound was aiming between her eyes.

Ducking and rolling out of the way, her body scraped on the concrete floor of the bunker. Revenant followed suit, quickly whipping out a shield cell. Pathfinder had rushed, an obvious mistake. Within seconds, the words “I’m down!” were cried out, and gunshots were heard before he was boxed up.

“Well, looks like it’s just the two of us.”, Ash muttered out enthusiastically. “Good thing this is the last squad and we will die anyway.” She was still annoyed from earlier and was fed up with her teammates, the fighting, and the whole of the Apex Games in general. This was surprisingly out of the norm for her, but then again, she had gotten more emotional as of late with Horizon joining the games.

Revenant growled at this. “Why give up so easily?” He peeked out from behind the wall, and shots whisked past his head. He took a deep breath before activating his tactical, chucking it towards wherever the gunshots were coming from. Ash leaned her head up against the wall, sighing and closing her mechanical eyes. 

Revenant must’ve noticed, because he muttered, “Wake up.” She grunted, and he sighed deeply. There was silence other than for the enemy team trying to heal up after being hit with Revenant’s ability. “Fine then, you need encouragement?”

Before she could even respond, he grabbed onto her waist, pulling her up onto his lap. It shocked her so badly that she couldn’t even muster a word. He pulled her farther back into his chest, leaning his head down beside her ear. Even through her hood, she could hear him. “Now that I’ve got your attention..”, he growled out seductively. “Help me win this game, and I will reward you later tonight.” If simulacrums could blush, Ash would’ve been a red hot mess sprawled out on Revenant’s lap.

She must’ve been radiating heat; she was so excited by his words. Even though she had just been picking on him earlier, she didn’t expect this much of a reaction from him, let alone one at all. Either way, she wasn’t complaining. She was confused as to what she could be rewarded with, but then again, she was still ready to earn it nevertheless.

Bounding up, Ash whipped out her sword, getting ready to launch into battle. Revenant just chuckled, amused. “Damn, you really want to please me.” She didn’t reply, she was not only focused, but also too embarresed to even say anything to this bot, this guy that was seeing her other side for the first time. He grunted unsatisfactorily, grabbing her chin suddenly and making her look at him. “Do you want to please me?”

One hand let go of her sword, the other grabbing the back of his head and shoving it down near her mouth. He was caught off guard, but didn’t pull away. “Yes.”, she whispered to him, and he almost seemed to rumble underneath her touch. She chuckled, he must be sexually aroused too. Letting go, she grabbed her sword with both hands once more before cutting a tear right into the enemies. It would be a bloodbath. She wouldn’t fail.

[rightpastnowhere]

Nother 1: fool's gold

OKAY SO my response to this one is probably my favorite for the whole title ask game :D so thank you for sending this one in !!!

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i'd write to go with it

okay so. i'd absolutely use this for a character study on vex. something about how she builds up this facade using wealth and status as a shield, because if she has gold and all the things gold can give her, maybe she'll finally be seen as someone who's earned something. maybe if her armor looks nice, and her hair is done up, and her makeup is perfect, then she will look well off. she'll look like she comes from money. she'll look like someone her father wouldn't be so ashamed of. she presents herself as gold, but even she can't fool herself into seeing it as real. it's all a mask that glitters the same, but once you scratch at it you know the truth.

i did some research on fool's gold - aka pyrite - to make the connections more concrete and fitting. pyrite, unlike the more malleable gold, is very brittle. vex isn't able to adapt to the environment of syngorn, she isn't able to bend with the pressure and find a new shape that fits. when vex was burdened with the weight of expectations in sygorn, she cracked and fractured and broke. she couldn't bend to fir it, and so she broke. and when pyrite breaks, it's in uneven, imperfect fractures. even when she broke, it was still something that just made it all too obvious why her father was disappointed in her. it had to be her, right? she has to be the cause of it, right? she's not good enough, not for syngorn, and not for her father. if she stays herself, she will never be good enough. she'll be nothing more than fool's gold, so close to being something treasured until someone bothered to look close and realize she was just a fraud.

OBVIOUSLY this is just what vex thinks of herself, not what's actually true - it's syngorn's fault for being racist, and syldor's fault for being prejudiced and distant. vex did the best she could, dammit. BUT i think the concept of fool's gold just perfectly encapsulates vex's feelings of inadequacy while she's in syngorn

damn i might actually write this

[paulie-lombardos-boy-toy]

It’s spooky time. In this one, the Empire Bay Trio are ghostly ghosties(think of the Hitchiking Ghosts from The Haunted Mansion) haunting the city they were killed in. Henry’s death is canon while Joe and Vito both died in a car bomb.

Inspo: Grim Grinning Ghosts from Haunted Mansion here

Three sets of eyes peered from their hiding spot behind a tree as the full moon shone brightly above to reveal their true forms and their prey. Pale blue radiated from the three entities as the one in a brown jacket and a deep gash against his neck that rose to the bottom of his ear crossed his arms while one in a scorched Hawaiian shirt and burns on the right side of his body idly floated by the older ghost who wore an ugly looking tie and the left side of his face was scarred and eye a milky white.

“So what’s the plan Hen? It’s almost Halloween so technically we won’t get in trouble if we scare mortals or get caught.” Joe pointed out as Vito leaned back slightly in a mockery of a hammock in the air. “I-I don’t know.” he admitted as Vito opened a single eye. “Why not pay a visit to…old aquaintences? That is, if they’re still alive.” he cackled as Joe joined in as Henry swatted at the laughing pair.

“If they were dead, wouldn’t we have seen them by now?” Joe hooted as Vito grinned. “Hush it, you two!” Henry snapped irritably as he floated back and forth and whirled around when he saw their target booking it out of the park. “Dammit, you two!” he growled as the pair adopted a pair of innocent faces.

“Oh lighten up,Hen. It’s almost our day to shine! I know Vito wants to visit his grave and talk with Frankie and I want to sample some candy since we’ll have semi-mortal forms then.” Joe cajoled as Vito’s eyes misted over slightly at the mention of his sister and weakly smiled. “Yeah. It should be fun.”

Henry broke out into a small smile and shook his head. “I suppose so. I have a few people I would like to give a good scare to.” he admitted as Vito and Joe slapped his back. “That’s the spirit! Now we got some plannin’ to do.” As the moon was slowly covered by clouds, the trio flew off into the night towards Joe’s as the gears slowly turned in their heads as they planned the biggest Halloween scheme of all time.

———

The day of Halloween, a plan was set and the trio celebrated in the only way they knew how to-by causing chaos. The poor landlord nearly fainted when a picture frame fell from the wall in front of his feet and he could’ve sworn he heard familiar laughter ringing in the empty hallway before it grew fainter and fainter before it disappeared entirely.

As the sun started to set, they boys got to work. Their first stop was the prison and Vito glared hatefully at the building that robbed him 10 years of his life and before Henry or Joe could stop him, he floated upwards before diving into the wall, his friends following behind him, uncaring that they were being gaped at by other prisoners.

Vito sooned stopped and poked his head through the wall as a malicious grin stretched across his face and the gash gaped open slightly and started to leak silver liquid over the head guard’s desk, where he was napping peacefully. He pulled the rest of his body in and dove into a picture before he caused it to drop on the concrete floor loudly and let out a manic cackle that made the guard shoot up from his desk and look around warily.

He yelped and ducked as an ugly vase flew across the room and shattered against the wall. “W-who goes there?! I’m armed!” he blustered before his face paled at the sight of a mangled face he never thought he would see again. Vito’s face twisted into something ugly and inhumane as he floated closer. “Miss me..Georgie?” he crooned as he tilted his head and caused more silvery blood to drip on the floor.

“Y-You…I never…” The guard looked close to passing out, but held onto his bearings. “I know how you treated me here. You said you never played favorite’s, but that was a crock of shit, huh?” he spat as his eyes flashed in fury. The guard whimpered and the last thing he saw before darkness was a cruel smile on Vito’s face before he disappeared into the wall again.

“Feel better, Vito?” Joe asked as they swooped over the other prisoners and relished in their screams on their way out. “Very. What’s next?” he asked cheerily as the moon glowed a bright orange and they could see other spirits wandering the streets and silently observing their loved ones while others reminisced their old haunts fondly.

“We’re meeting up with Marty, remember? Kid’s been dyin’ to see you again, no pun intended.” Joe quipped as he did a few loops in the air and laughed loudly as Vito and soon Henry joined in with the screeching and laughing as they swooped in between the cars towards the hotel where Marty was sitting on one of the balconies.

“Vito!! Vito,hi!!” Marty chirped as Vito floated over and ruffled his hair. “How ya doing, kiddo?” As Marty infodumped what he had been up to in the spirit realm, Vito was listening and nodded. “Sounds pretty nice. Wish we could go, but we’re here for a reason.” The atmosphere soon grew gloomy before Joe let out a cough. “No sadness. This is our day to shine!” he said and all four took off into the night to spread their mayhem across the city.

———

As the four neared the graveyard, the silence between them grew as a lone figure kneeled in front of two graves with their hands clasped together in prayer. “Frankie..” Vito murmured softly and floated over to her and rested his elbows on his headstone. She looked up and was soon gazing into the eyes of her dead baby brother . “Vito.. I’m so sorry. I-I shouldn’t’ve cut you off like that. I-I was scared and…”

Vito shook his head and leaned forward to press a cold kiss to her forehead. “I don’t blame you at all. I was the one who let my emotions get the better of me that day.” he reassured as another figure appeared beside him and his eyes welled with tears as he gazed into the youthful visage of his mom.

“Mi bambino. I have missed you both terribly.” Maria said softly as she wrapped them both in a hug. “I-I’m sorry Momma. I couldn’t stay out of trouble. I didn’t mean to make you so upset.” Vito mumbled as Maria kissed his forehead. “It is of no matter. I knew my time was nearly up anyway.”

She then turned to Frankie and gazed at her with sad eyes. “I am so sorry for what you went through, my love. You were doing what you had to do to protect yourself and I am so proud of you.” she soothed as Frankie started to cry harder. The other three men stood back as the Scaletta’s caught up and noticed, with unhidden disgust, that Antonio was nowhere to be found. “Typical jackass..” Joe mumbled.

Soon, Frankie had to leave and Vito turned to his mom again. “Please make sure she gets home safe. I-I’ll see you next year, yeah?” Maria kissed his forehead again and hugged him as tight as she could before slowly fading away into a small orb and floated from the graveyard. Vito wiped his eyes and floated back to his friends. “Every year, it never gets easier.”

Henry went to the headstones and mumbled a short prayer before heading towards the gate and the other three followed. Once on the street, Vito cleared his throat and raised a brow. “Well? The night is still young,right.” he grinned slightly as the others followed suit and with a loud whoop, Marty took off down the alleyways and knocked over trashcans while Joe laughed and Vito tugged a man’s hat down over his eyes.

After a full night of mischief, the sun was starting to rise and Marty gave one last hug to the trio before fading away. The trio shared a smile and headed back home to recoup and recover.

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Inez Temple/Outlaw:Just a routine takedown for bounty hunter Inez, when Alex Summers happens on her.

Inez was tired.

Not physically; her muscles didn't do that, not as quickly as a normal human's would, at any rate, and she'd only been chasing her target for less than two minutes. He probably was tired, but he was still running, though she'd closed the distance to less than half a block.

The bullets he'd shot at her in the first alleyway where they'd met had slowed her some, but that made her all the more angry and determined to catch the son of a beesting.

No, she was just tired of chasing him at this point. It was a futile effort, even he should've realized that by now, but he refused to quit.

He ducked around the corner of a building, pushing an unsuspecting couple out of his way and into hers; another temporary distraction. Inez hurtled over the lady with an apologetic smile and a light shrug of her shoulders, then sprinted forward as soon as her shoes hit the concrete.

The man - who stood taller than her at 6' something, heavier for sure, and heavily garbed in motorcycle gear - was faster than he looked, she gave him credit for that. But that was about all she'd give him credit for. He ducked into another alley, probably hoping she wouldn't see him.

She saw him.

Only a handful of people were on this sidewalk, thankfully, and Inez did her best to gracefully - and safely - blow past them before turning down that alley herself and picking up a steel garbage can that rested against one of the walls.

Time to put this guy down, she thought to herself.

Alex was on his way down the street, looking at the list of coffee orders that he fully prepared to apologize for. Everyone wanted coffee today. And snacks. It must have been time to stock the break room again.

He didn't notice the man, but he saw the blonde woman disappearing into the alley, and frowned. People going into alleys was generally a bad sign, especially alone. Maybe she was trying to lose a tail? He stashed the list in his pocket and crept closer, peeking around the corner to see-

Holy fuck.

She definitely did not need help. But the guy she was preparing to throw the trash can at might.

Pulling back the barrel over her head, Inez hurled it at the man - not with all her might, because she didn't want to turn him into a smear on the alley floor (ok, well, she kinda did but knew she shouldn't) - but enough to send him flying face-first onto the concrete. Which was exactly what he did.

"Dammit, man," she said, slowing down and rubbing her hands together. "Why y'gotta make it so hard?" She wasn't out of breath, but she was out of patience. Reaching down, she picked him up by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the wall. "Now you're comin' with me." No please or room for debate; his fate was sealed. At least as far as she was concerned, whatever happened to him once she turned him to her employer, well. That was another story, and not hers.

She looked down the alley way and froze when she saw a stranger looking back at her.

"Nothin' t'see here," she said, still holding him, a larger person than herself, against the wall and a few feet off the ground.

[suitk0via]

A Painful Love

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

              18 + MINORS DNI

Word Count : 3.3k

Warning : this is literally just smut. we've got knife kinks, use of restraint, hate sex?, car sex, unrequited love stuff...

Synopsis: Win a street race, lose a different kind of race. Reader has messed up her car and begrudgingly asks for Bucky's help. Of course, his help comes at a price.

        Street Racer AU | Masterlist

“God dammit.”

You threw the wrench over your shoulder listening to it clang against the concrete floor. Resting your head against the side panel of your car you sighed. This connection was as if to say, ‘ I know I’ve pushed you too hard recently, and I’m sorry. ’ You just knew if the car could talk it would most definitely scold you.

You knew you were pushing the limit, and you felt the skip in your engine go straight to your bones. Sure, you’d won the race but at what cost? The leads to your distributor got crossed making the engine skip in a painful way. You remembered physically wincing at the sound of it, but you were too caught up in the adrenaline of a win to care.

Specifically a win against Bucky.

“Careful princess, you'll push her too hard.” His words sort of haunted your mind. A deeper part of yourself wanted to blame this issue on him, like he may have sabotaged you. That was a baseless claim though. As much as you hated him he wasn’t an actual villain.

“Worry about yourself Brooklyn. She’s fine.” You had said, patting the hood of your car. Oh if you could’ve shown yourself a glimpse of the future. Grabbing your rag from your shoulder you wipe the black marks from your hands. Your patience had worn thin with this project and you knew you were going to need help. Problem is, the only person you knew that would help would be Bucky. His services came at a price though. Which usually began with you telling him how much you couldn’t stand him, and ending with your face pressed into the mattress begging him to give you some sort of release.

The relationship you had with him was odd. Odd yet satisfying. Though, Bucky had gotten a lot softer recently. Not as insatiable, rather. For some reason you hating him made him want you even more – and he wasn’t secretive about it either.

You weren’t even sure why you hated him. You just couldn’t stand the smug look he always had, and the way he looked down on you – mentally and physically. Grabbing your phone you let out a frustrated groan before dialing his number. You could already hear his condescending tone just dying to say, ‘ I told you so. ’

“Callin’ so soon? It’s only six thirty, princess.”

“Shut it, Brooklyn. Help me fix this and I’ll do whatever you want.”

He didn’t even respond before he hung up the phone. Scoffing you tossed it over on the counter. This was routine so you weren’t even disappointed in yourself. Because to be clear you hated Bucky – not the sex. The sex was always amazing. Simply because he knew you better than you gave him credit for.

He knew all the right things to say, how you liked those featherlight kisses on your neck, and anything else you could think of.

When you first met him, you never knew it would lead to this point.

You were all excited and wide eyed after a race, and he poked fun at you with everyone around. “It’s one race. You’re a rookie, princess.” Those collective snickers were enough to solidify your hatred. The only difference between him and every other asshole that had a crush on their car, was the fact that he was handsome. He carried himself like everyone owed him something and you hated it, but the lines in your hatred were becoming blurry though.

Can you truly hate someone you seek out when things go wrong?

Of course he knew about cars, but he was also a good friend. The word nearly made you sick but it was true. He was your friend in all technicality. Whenever your sad excuse of a boyfriend had broken up with you and you stopped showing up to races for a while, Bucky showed up at your door. Unprovoked, with no other intention than checking on you. Of course, it didn’t end there. You cried all over him and he didn’t even care. He never mentioned it either. It was like an unspoken agreement the two of you had.

Whenever he was having trouble sleeping for a while, you went over and stayed with him. You just stayed up late into the night running your hands through his hair and warding off any nightmares that crept up on him.

So, as much as you hated him, you’d also drop everything you were doing if he needed you.

To anyone looking in it made no sense, but it worked for the both of you. Sort of.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door opening. Bucky utilized that spare key more than you liked to admit. Listening to the sound of his footsteps you waited for the garage door to open, and his comments to run free. “Now, what did I say to you before we started?” He said, closing the door behind him.

Putting your hands on your face you groaned. You didn’t even have it in you to look at him and accept a form of defeat. “Just, fix it, please.” You sighed. His footsteps got closer and he stood beside you leaning over the hood. He started explaining what you had done wrong, and how you could’ve done it better. The longer he went on the more agitated you became.

Why did you need him? Why did it always get back to this point? Why did he feel the need to be so patronizing if he liked sleeping with you so much?

Idiot.

“Okay, fuck, I get it. I fucked up. Can you just get this over with?” You said standing up abruptly, chair squeaking against the floor. Bucky huffed at you and continued to do whatever he was doing. Watching him reach down and methodically fix the issue you had been slaving over for hours should’ve been overwhelmingly annoying – somehow it was just attractive. He noticed your staring and it only made his attitude worse. A smirk played on his lips as pulled his hand back, wiping the excess grease off of his fingers. Those ridiculous blue eyes stared back at you, a mischievous sheen covering them. “Princess, I’m startin’ to think you mess these things up on purpose. Just so you can ‘do whatever I want’.”

It was just the right amount of insulting to rile you up, and you knew you were taking the bait hard. “Oh yeah? Think so? Because it’s always an option for me to call Steve instead.” You knew you were playing with fire and unfortunately it was the most exciting thing ever to your expectant mind. He just smiled sitting down the rag. “Because I don’t need you. There are about twenty other guys just like you.” You said shifting your weight as if you weren’t nervous. He didn’t have to say anything, you just watched as he approached you. With purpose in his stride he reached you grabbing you by your wrists and yanking you towards him. Your attitude faded for a moment once you collided with his chest. The hold he had on you was painful in the best way.

“I’d love to see you call Steve.” His voice was low and there was a threat behind his words. A threat you couldn’t quite make out, but it was there. The fluorescent lighting above hummed, filling the void of silence between the two of you. You went to say something but quickly decided on keeping your mouth shut when you saw him pulling his belt off.

“I don’t know why you like running that pretty mouth so much. It’s not polite for a lady to talk to a man like that.”

“Fuck you.” You sneered trying to pull your arm away from him. In a swift motion he put your hands behind your back, pulling your wrists together with his belt. At this point you were just asking for whatever was coming your way, but you just couldn’t let him have the last word.

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

You nearly whimpered hearing him say it so close to your ear. That bit of submission was quickly halted whenever you heard him opening the door to the backseat of your car. “What the fuck? Bucky, no fucking way. I told you, not in my car!” You tried getting away from him but it was futile. Shoving you into the car your back pressed against the leather seats harshly. Whining in frustration you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head tossing it over his shoulder. “James. I’m not kidding!” You said, kicking your feet in a frustrated manner.

Your only condition was that you wouldn’t do anything with him in your car. It just seemed like common sense. Your car was the one thing he hadn’t completely desecrated, but it seemed like you weren’t going to win the battle this time. “I’ve had you everywhere but here. Seems like a fair trade for fixing your problem and listening to you bitch for a while.” He smiled, pulling something out of his pocket. Your eyes immediately went wide, already being able to recognize the familiar object. He caught the worried expression on your face and laughed before climbing on top of you.

“What? Now you wanna be quiet?” He mocked. Watching as he pulled his knife out of its little kevlar sheath you instinctively squeezed your thighs together. There were one too many memories of that blade being dragged across your skin just light enough to leave a red trail. Maybe it was the danger of it that had such an effect on you. Your actions didn’t go unnoticed either. He maneuvered himself between your legs, your hips slightly raised up by his spread knees.

“Bucky, please, not in m-”

“How is that fair to me, princess? You’ve made a mess all over my car before.”

Clearly this was all playing into his amusement because he was just grinning like the Cheshire cat. As much as you wanted to fight, you weren’t sure you could handle the consequences. To your dismay he reached up, shoving the knife through your shirt. Hearing the fabric rip made you wince. This had to be the third shirt he’d cut off of you.

The sharp point lightly trailed against your skin – from between your breasts down to your navel, effectively ripping it in half. Goosebumps raised on your skin and you internally chastised yourself for the involuntary reaction.

Of course, Bucky got a kick out of it. Simply because he liked knowing that no matter how much you hated him, you couldn’t get enough of him. Cutting the sides of your sleeves he pulled the shirt off completely. His eyes hungrily roamed the expanse of your bare skin. Running his hand over your sides he subconsciously licked his lips. The look on your face was lovely. One he thought about too often. A sort of anticipation on your face that you worked so hard to hide.

“Can you let my fuckin’ hands go?” You asked, writhing beneath him. He laughed moving his hands down to your jeans unbuttoning them slower than he wanted to. “No. If you want some dipshit to come over, pretend like he knows how to help you, and treat you nice – then you shoulda called Steve.” He said pulling your pants off a little harder than he meant to.

It rubbed him the wrong way that you said that – about calling Steve. Bucky was unbelievably jealous of you, and everyone knew it but you. You just kept turning your nose up and gave him little smartass comments. Meanwhile he would threaten the life of any man that dared to look in your direction. The relationship was confusing. He’d lay down everything for you, and you’d still say you hated him.

Leaning down he kissed you sweetly. A little too sweet considering moments ago you were yelling at him. He got caught up in you a lot. The way you’d kiss him back just as passionately and how sweet you tasted. Knife still in his hand he trailed it against your skin and down to your core. Running the blade over your panties enjoying the way your breath caught in your throat and you shivered.

“I thought I was fucked up.” He mumbled against your lips, looking down between the both of you. “Shut up.” You said, trying to conceal a breathy moan. Laughing a little he pulled back seeing the wet spot that had formed on the thin fabric. Hooking his fingers beneath the fabric he pulled them off watching your face.

He liked whenever your little act dropped, and he wished he could keep you that way. As opposed to you pretending you hated him. Dropping the knife on the floorboard he ran his hands down your thighs. “You’re so pretty...I almost don’t want to ruin you.” He said with a sigh. Before you could say anything he took his finger dragging it through your obscenely wet folds. He took a lot of pride in the fact he could work you up so easily. A whine passed through your lips as he pulled back looking at the glistening evidence of your arousal. The sight alone made his cock twitch in excitement.

The lead up to being able to sink into your warm cunt was almost tempting enough to make him fuck you right then. “I love the way you hate me, princess.” He sighed, putting the finger in his mouth. Sucking your juices off the digit he laughed. Enamoured by how sweet you tasted on his tongue. Moving downwards he strategically placed kisses on either side of your hips. “Bucky, please.” You whined, bucking your hips against him.

Pushing down on your hips he gave you a rather stern look. Leaning down he licked a thin stripe from your entrance to your clit. Moaning at the taste he ignored your desperate pleas. That taste was something he dreamed of, and when he had it on his tongue he became greedy. Taking you in like he had found the fountain of youth.

He wasn’t a wateful person.

Well, he didn’t want to get anything on your seats.

Not even looking over he grabbed the knife from the floor, holding it by the blade. “Oh my fucking god.” You whined trying to keep your legs from shaking. Pulling back he slapped his hand against your ass making you yelp. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He said through his teeth, running the handle of his knife against your slit. The cool metal was an intense contrast from your warmth and the way you flinched made him smile. Once you recognized the feeling you looked at him with a fire in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare.”

It was like an open invitation. He slowly pushed the handle into you, watching you try and move away from him. “Bucky, oh my god. It’s cold.” You whined. Again he leaned down sucking on your clit viciously. Slowly thrusting the handle in and out of you he held onto the blade a little too hard, feeling blood trickle down his palm.

“You’re so fucking awful.” You moaned, wriggling in his grasp. A little irritated he pushed it into you hard listening to you gasp at the feeling. Just to go harder he sat up pushing the hilt in and out of you at a harsh pace. He could see you losing control and he just went harder. Wet sounds and delicate moans filled the small space. He could tell you were close by the way your eyebrows knitted together and you held your breath.

Pulling it out of you he dropped it to the floor again. You cried out begging for some sort of friction between your legs. Taking his bloodied palm he wrapped his hand around your neck making your whines come to a halt. “Watch how you speak to me.” He warned. You nodded hesitantly and he let go. After a moment of admiring the bloody handprint he left behind, he grabbed the knife examining the remnants of you on the handle. Making sure you were looking he licked your essence off the hilt of it. Eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

As sweet as you were, he was mad at you for implying you’d call someone else over him. Sitting the knife down between your breasts he moved over so he could pull his pants off.

“Please, Bucky-”

“Shut up.” He hissed, wrapping his hand around his cock. This build up was a little too much for him and he was overly sensitive. Slapping his tip against your hole you jerked against him. “God damn. For someone who hates me so much you’re fuckin’ wet for me.” He said running himself back and forth through your folds.

“Please just fuck me already.” You groaned impatiently. He had half the mind to just leave you there. Hands behind your back begging for him to come back and help you. He would’ve if it wasn’t a move away from being inside you.

“I’m goin’ to.” He said pushing himself into you without any hesitation. You adjusted to him easily, and he moaned at the warm snug feeling of your fluttering walls. “Princess, you might hate me…but this pussy says otherwise.” He said grabbing onto your hips thrusting into you. You didn’t have the strength to reply, just a whining mess beneath him. Watching your breasts move with each drive he smiled wickedly.

Your entire being was just an ethereal vision to him. Something he could only imagine that had walked straight out of his dreams. “Bucky m’sorry-'' You breathed. Leaning down he kissed you fervently trying to hold himself together for a bit longer. He wasn’t sure why you had said that, but he didn’t care either. Just pounding into your wet cunt he felt himself losing control. That silky feeling was too overwhelming for him.

“I like you like this, you know?” He said pushing his hand against your lower stomach. The added pressure always made you squirm. You looked back at him and nodded. Your wide eyes made him push you harder. He could feel himself hitting that spongy spot inside of you making your legs twitch against his sides. “You get so tight when you’re close.” He moaned, throwing his head back.

You struggled with your hands bound behind you trying to catch your breath. “Bucky, I can’t-” He just went faster, the sound of skin against skin motivating him further. “I know. You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?” He asked, looking down at you. Tears slipped from your eyes and he let out an almost maniacal laugh. “Y-yeah.” You stuttered shakily.

As if on command he felt your walls tighten around him and your form went limp in his hold. You were holding your breath writhing against him. Incoherent mumbling came from your lips. The sight of you unravelling made him lose the bit of control he had left. “Gonna fill you up. You deserve it.” He said slamming his hips into yours, holding you in place. His cock twitched in you he sighed at the feeling of his own release coating your walls. It was a hot white feeling that flooded his entire being and it rolled through him in waves. Though his focus went back to you quickly.

Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you up allowing you to lean against his chest. Still slightly trembling you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Using his free hand he reached behind you pulling the belt from your wrists. Desperately you clung to him, and he hushed you gently. He kissed your forehead, running his hands back and forth over your skin.

“I love you.”

This wasn’t odd. He’d said it to you before. Always in moments like this, and he meant it with his entire being. You always responded the same, and it tore at him each time.

“I know.”

Then the cycle would start over.

[veilder]

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥