#hitting a fly with a sledgehammer

[brinconvenient]

My elder daughter is in London and very excited to see her first professional production of "Noises Off" so I decided I wanted to watch the movie, which I'd not seen in ages, again. I call this piece "For we live in a world of madness and I, sadly, remain sane"

[okcoolthanks]

we r 2 rats fighting for dominance and both of us are losing btw. we are squirrels chasing each other around the trees. we are housecats watching birds fly around outside. we are any 2 creatures as long as we are together. /p

CRYING SOBBING LOSING IT OVERTHIS ACTURALLYYYYYYYGGNGNGNHMBMBMN

[depresseddepot]

I've been on tumblr for a long time but none of you prepared me for the absolutely horrendous sounds the tardis makes

[deliciousangelfestival]

Guilt

Character: Mob!Bucky x Police!Female Reader

Summary: "Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Bucky, a gangster, fell in love at first sight with a policewoman.

At the golf course, two outstanding men in the mob world are playing golf together to have a quiet time, to forget the worst day at the club they owned.

Steve, the second person in charge, still feels frustrated, while Bucky, the leader, is the only one enjoying the game.

"Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Steve, his childhood friend, asked as he watched Bucky hit the golf ball.

Bucky clenched his fist in frustration as he made the shot. Turning to Steve, he replied, "I can't help it. She just took my breath away the first time I saw her."

Steve sighed, recalling the first encounter between Bucky and the policewoman when their club was unexpectedly visited by the narcotics police force.

Steve sighed, "She's known as a scary person, even among her colleagues," he said, relaying what he had learned from his connections.

"And from what happened last night, I feel like she holds a big grudge against people like us," Steve continued, reflecting on the recent events. Most of the cops he knew turned a blind eye to their business dealings, never getting involved with drugs.

Bucky remembered how composed you had been last night, effortlessly throwing punches and giving orders to make arrests. He even recalled the moment you pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him.

At that instant, he knew you were different from other women.

Bucky took another swing at the golf ball, causing it to fly too far. With a smile, he declared, "I will make her mine."

Steve sighed deeply, realizing that once Bucky had made up his mind, no one could stop him.

As Bucky began his courtship, he tried various approaches to get closer to you:

1. He sent you flowers with cryptic notes, hinting at his admiration and interest.

2. Bucky strategically positioned himself at events where you were present, making sure to catch your eye without being too obvious.

3. He orchestrated chance encounters, bumping into you at coffee shops or restaurants, always ready with a charming smile and a casual conversation starter.

4. He even went as far as anonymously sending you a gifts or helpful tips related to your work, trying to show his support and understanding of your profession.

But you didn't give any reaction; you consistently ignored him.

Bucky didn't mind your game of "playing hard to get." He was confident that in the end, you couldn't resist him.

However, his confidence wavered when you finally spoke to him, your words cutting through the air like icy daggers. "In 2022, Bobby Smith died because of a gunshot. He was my fiancé."

Bucky's face drained of color, his body going rigid with shock. The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of guilt crashing down upon him. His mind raced as he realized the implication: Bobby Smith's death was because of him.

After the revelation, would Bucky give up his pursuit, or would he persist despite the overwhelming guilt?

[bat-mom-writer]

Bat Baby: Part 4

Pregnant Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Summery: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake, find their pregnant non-biological mother missing, how would they react?

(I do not own any DC characters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

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"Hey, mom, I got your ice cream," Dick called out as he pushed open the bedroom door, the ice cream in his hand. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, the curtains fluttering gently in the cool night breeze. He paused, the sight before him not at all what he had expected. The bed was empty, the covers thrown haphazardly aside, and the room was eerily still.

His heart skipped a beat as he scanned the room, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "Mom?" he whispered into the quiet, his voice tentative. The only answer was the muffled sound of the television from the living room.

With a frown, he stepped into the hallway, calling out for her again. The house felt too still, the silence a stark contrast to the usual hum of activity that filled the Wayne Manor. He made his way through the corridors, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. He checked the bathroom, the nursery, the kitchen, the study, the library, and even the fucking batcave, but she was nowhere to be found. His heart was racing now, fear blooming in his chest. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.

The ice cream slipped from his grip, the containers of mint chocolate chip ice cream spilling out onto the floor. They landed with a soft thud, the lid popping off one of them, the cool sweetness immediately making a spill on the floor. Dick barely registered the mess as he sprinted down the hallway, the urgency in his steps echoing off the high ceilings.

Entering the living room, he found Tim and Jason still engrossed in their show, their backs to the door. "Guys," he said, his voice tight with anxiety. "Where's mom?"

They both swiveled around, their expressions mirroring his own concern. "What do you mean?" Tim asked, his eyes looking to Jason, and back to Dick.

Jason leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Didn't she go to bed?"

"Yes! But then Bruce sent me to get ice cream and when I come back she was gone!" Dick exclaimed, his voice laced with panic.

"Did you look anywhere else?" Tim asked, his brow furrowed.

"Everywhere!" Dick said, frantically. "The whole house! She's not here!"

"She's a fucking pregnant woman, she couldn't have gotten far," Jason murmured, his voice a mix of annoyance and concern. "Maybe she just went for a walk or something."

"At one in the morning?" Tim echoed. "It's not like her to just wander off, especially in her condition."

Jason stood up, his posture rigid. "Bruce should know where she is," he said, his voice laced with accusation. "Where is he?"

Dick's mind raced as he thought back. "He said he had to check something in the garage," he recalled, the memory feeling distant and fuzzy. "That was when I came into the house the ice cream."

"Go find him, Dick!" Jason barked, his eyes flashing with urgency. "Tim and I will look outside."

"Don't bother," Damian said, his voice cutting through the tension as he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes heavy with a knowing that didn’t quite suit his age. "They're already gone."

The words hit Dick like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from his lungs. "What?" he choked out, his eyes wide with shock.

"They left," Damian confirmed, his voice eerily calm. "I saw them drive off."

"What the hell?" Dick says, his mind racing. "Why wouldn't they tell us?"

"Is she okay?" Tim's voice was strained with worry as he stared at Damian.

Damian's expression doesn't waver. "They're on their way to the hospital," he says, his voice as calm as a lake on a still night. "Her water broke."

The words hit the others like a sucker punch. Tim's eyes widen, and he takes a stumbling step back. "What?" he gasps, his hand flying to his mouth. "We need to get to the hospital."

"Father told me to not let you go until he calls," he says, his voice devoid of its usual smugness.

The realization hits Dick like a truck. "Wait, you know the whole time?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Spill the beans you little shit," Jason grabs Damian by his shirt and pulls him up, his eyes blazing with a mix of fear and anger.

Damian shrugs, his eyes meeting Jason's. "They didn't want to alarm us," he says, his voice a little too calm for the situation. "They thought we'd make a scene."

"Make a scene?!" Jason's voice rises, his grip on Damian's shirt tightening. "Make a fucking scene?! I'll show you a scene!" He shoves Damian away from him, the force enough to send the younger boy stumbling backward.

Dick moves quickly, pulling Jason back before he can do any more damage. "Jason, stop!" he snaps, his voice filled with a command that he rarely uses. "We need to focus on finding them, not fighting with each other."

Tim nods, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear. "He's right," he says, his voice shaking slightly.

Jason's eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. "I don't care what this little boy says, I'm going," he says, his voice a low growl.

Dick grabs his arm, his eyes pleading. "Jason, please," he begs. "It's what mom wanted."

Jason's gaze darts to Damian, then back to Dick, his anger slowly morphing into understanding. "Fine," he says, his voice gruff.

"Good," Dick says, letting out a sigh of relief. "We'll wait for Bruce's call. And when he does, we're going to be calm. No panicking, no shoving," He glances from Damian and Jason. "We need to be there for her, not cause more stress."

They all nod, and sit on the couch, the leather cool against their skin. The room feels suffocatingly quiet, the air thick with unspoken anxiety. The only sounds are the distant wail of a siren and the occasional beep from the security monitors. Each one of them stares straight ahead, lost in their own thoughts.

Hours later, the Dick's phone rang.

Next

Writer's note: Gonna be honest I see a lot of other wristers naming the daughter of Reader X Bruce, Martha, and I'm sorry, but I don't really love the name. Can I PLEASE have some other girl names idea? Then I'll make a Part 5.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - III

Summary: Kit and Airk visit Azarenth to celebrate your fifteenth birthday, but when your mother delivers some earth-shattering news, your relationships with the twins crumble. After an ‘experiment’ gone wrong, you realize some things about yourself that could destroy your life, as well as those of the people around you.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: angst, boy-kissing, girl-kissing, implied vomiting (not graphic), half-smut, heavy petting, second base, forced marriage, nightmare

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: it’s getting steamy up in here

The day you turned fifteen was a cause of celebration for all of Azarenth. Your parents held an elaborate banquet in your honor, complete with minstrels and jesters, and invited the entire kingdom to celebrate. All day long, you received birthday wishes and blessings from the townspeople, indulged in your favorite foods, and drowned in a seemingly endless sea of presents. Luxurious garments, precious jewelry, fine craftsmanship; you were gracious for every one, but none compared to the greatest gift of them all.

“Tomorrow morning, the twins from Tir Asleen will be riding in for a visit.” Your mother informed you later that evening, after all the party guests had gone home.

You froze in your tracks, the news leaving you momentarily speechless. “Really? They’re visiting here?”

“Well I’d prefer not to have Kit stay,” your mother scoffed. “But heaven forbid I take one without the other.”

Far too excited to acknowledge your mother’s snide remark, you rushed to wrap your arms around her, expressions of gratitude flying from your lips. She stiffened at your touch, only obliging with a reluctant pat on your back.

Just when you felt like you were on top of the world, everything came crashing down in a matter of seconds.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while they’re here, please put in the extra effort to make Airk feel comfortable. In five years’ time, you will be his bride.”

You froze again, the last sentence hitting you like a sledgehammer to a stone wall. Slowly, you removed your arms from her torso, stepping back to meet her gaze. “Pardon?”

“Sorsha and I decided it was time to tell you both,” she explained calmly. “We’ve been arranging this marriage to unite our kingdoms since you were young.”

Confusion, anger, betrayal; a plethora of emotions swarmed you as you stood there, stunned. “You’re telling me this now?”

“Darling, you’re fifteen now, a woman. We didn’t want to scare you when you were children but it’s high time you start to think about the future of Azarenth.”

Realization hit you like a pound of bricks. “That’s why you always put so much emphasis on a relationship with Airk? You were preparing us for marriage?”

“Well I see no reason for such commotion! From what you’ve told me, you and Airk get along quite well. I’m sure you’ll make a fine couple.”

She dismissed you with a wave of her hand before retreating to her bedchamber for the night, leaving you standing there in a puddle of conflicting feelings. On one hand, Airk was pleasant company, and he could make a fine ruler one day. On the other hand, your heart didn’t long for him, and just the thought of you two being expected to produce heirs made you feel ill.

In five years, in five short years, you would be Princess Airk Tanthalos. You closed your eyes, testing out the name once on your lips before running outside and dropping to your knees, emptying your stomach's contents into the street.

That night was spent tossing and turning in bed, fighting off images of a marriage to Airk before they overpowered you, transforming into a nightmare as you slipped into slumber.

You were walking through the Tir Asleen gardens with Kit, picking bouquets of flowers and laughing at nothing but your own contagious joy. Just when you were almost done arranging your flowers, she seized your hand without warning, forcing you to drop your bouquet and pulling you away from the garden.

“Kit! Where are we going?” You chuckled, but never received an answer.

Instead, she pulled you into the doors of the castle and led you through every room. Each room seemed to stretch on forever, the exit nothing more than an optical illusion. With every new step, Kit moved faster until you were practically chasing after her, each breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet slapped against the cold stone floor.

Finally, Kit led you back outside, where you seemed to have spent so long in the castle that the sky was now a dark black with no moon in sight. She continued to pull you until you stood in front of the garden once again, where she slowed her pace before pausing at the entrance. This time, instead of the garden being filled with fragrant flowers and low-hanging trees, it was furnished to look like a wedding ceremony, with Airk standing at the end of the aisle. All of the guests turned in their chairs, staring at you with stone-like expressions.

You looked down and found that your everyday clothing had been replaced with an extravagant wedding gown. “Kit,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “Why have you brought me here?”

Kit turned to look at you, leaving you horrified as her face morphed into that of your mother’s. Her demeanor remained still and frosty as she dropped your hand like a forgotten promise.

“The future is upon us, Princess Airk Tanthalos.”

You shot up in bed, gasping for breath as your heart raced. Pressing a hand to your chest, you inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to calm down. The window facing outside showed the sky still an impenetrable black, clear and streaked with twinkling stars. You groaned, flopping back onto your mattress as you reluctantly prepared for the remainder of a restless night.

You practically sleepwalked through the next morning, the dark circles under your eyes hanging like crescent moons in the night sky. After grunting a barely perceptible greeting to your parents, you took your seat at the breakfast table and started on the meal the chefs had prepared for you. Each bite tasted like gray mush. You chewed mechanically, feeling as if your emotions were so dulled that even your taste buds were affected.

Silence filled the breakfast table as everyone noticed you weren’t your usual chipper self. Even your father noticed something was off and attempted to speak before your mother shot him an icy glare, placing her hand over his as an unspoken warning.

Before you even had time to pass out onto your plate, the familiar clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage sounded from outside, signaling the twins' arrival. You stood up, trailing behind your parents as you stepped outside to greet your guests.

A creamy white horse stood just outside the castle entrance, attached to a rugged coachman steering a wooden carriage. Airk was the first to step out, shaking out his chestnut curls and smoothing the fabric of his thin tunic. The morning sun reflected off his green eyes, making them look like two polished emeralds.

Although you weren’t attracted to him, you had to admit, he had grown into a handsome lad. You began to wonder if there was a chance that marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, that maybe you could make it work, and learn to live somewhat content.

But then Kit stepped out of the carriage, and the very thought of marrying her brother became distasteful again. She was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes only accentuated her lack of color. Her clothing was loose, wrinkly, and her barely chin-length tresses were dyed black with an indigo plant.

To anyone else, she appeared as a tired mess, a pathetic excuse for a princess. But when you gazed upon her, all you saw was Kit. Your Kit. The girl you grew up with and simultaneously never saw, the one person who meant more to you than anyone else.

Your mother rushed to meet Airk, presenting a perfect curtsy and gushing over how handsome he’d gotten. To Kit, she offered nothing more than a brief nod and a stiff grin.

“Welcome to Azarenth, you two,” she greeted. “I trust you’ll feel right at home here.”

With that, she turned on her heel, marching back into the castle and leaving you to attend to your guests. You never really liked having your mother around; her chilly demeanor often irritating you to the point of submerging yourself into daydreams where you could run away, free from her parental confines. But now, as she walked away and you watched her figure grow smaller, you wanted nothing more than for her to return. Even if it was to make a snide comment, you would take anything to alleviate the tension that now floated between you and the twins.

Airk took a step towards you, clearing his throat and hiding his hands behind his back. “Happy birthday, Princess.”

You smiled in return, curtsying politely. The two of you stood there, silently staring at each other, the weight of what you both now knew settling between you.

“Yes, happy birthday, Princess.” Kit sneered, stomping over and offering an exaggerated curtsy.

Your smile faltered. “No need to be so formal.”

Kit scowled at you, her blue eyes, once bright oceans now beady cesspools filled with contempt. “Oh forgive me, your highness! I had no intention of offending her majesty, the future ruler of Tir Asleen!”

She scoffed, shaking her head and storming past you into the castle doors. Airk mumbled a quick apology on her behalf before following after her, leaving you outside, alone, caught in a whirlpool of heartache.

The rest of the day remained as tense as how it started. Kit had holed herself up in her designated guest room, so you were stuck with Airk. For the most part, you tried to avoid each other, save for occasionally crossing paths in the hallways and stuttering immediate apologies. When the kitchen maid rang the dinner bell, you reluctantly trudged to the dining room, dragging your feet all the way there to postpone interaction as much as possible.

Your mother eyed you critically as you were the last to take your seat at the table. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

Pursing your lips out of disdain, you glanced over at Airk. He met your gaze, making accidental eye contact for a brief second before looking down and pretending to be transfixed by his supper. Your eyes traveled across the table to a seat left empty, Kit’s noticeable absence leaving a pang in your chest.

Sounds of silverware scratching against ceramic dishes filled the room as the four of you ate in silence. You and Airk kept your heads down, refusing to look up from your plates while your parents exchanged glances from across the table. Once finished, you pushed your plate away and requested to be excused, leaving without waiting for a response.

Grabbing your shawl off a nearby hook, you walked briskly out of the castle. The cold December air pricked against your skin as you hugged your shawl closer to you. Azarenth typically had a warmer climate with very few opportunities for cold weather, but something about this night felt especially frosty, enough for a handful of snowflakes to lazily drift down from the night sky.

You retreated to a small courtyard away from the main thoroughfares, a secluded area complete with a center fountain you often used as a refuge. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you stared at your reflection in the water, your mirrored image looking just as tired and stressed as it had that morning. You groaned, splashing away your likeness before immediately pulling your hand back, shocked by the iciness of the water.

As you sat alone with your thoughts, the sound of footsteps approached. You turned your head to see Airk at the entrance, pausing as soon as you met his gaze. He looked sheepish, his hands hiding behind his back as he nervously shuffled his feet.

“Your father told me I might find you here,” he spoke softly, answering the question you never asked.

You didn’t respond, so he moved towards you, taking a seat beside you on the edge of the fountain. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring at your feet while you listened to the gentle roar of the water behind you.

“Your parents informed you of the arrangement, I imagine.” He said in a low voice, addressing the elephant in the room.

You sighed deeply, nodding your head in response. “I feel so betrayed.”

Airk raised his eyebrows.

“Not because you’d make a terrible spouse!” You quickly backtracked. “I just… I feel so…”

“Caught off guard?” Airk interrupted.

You nodded. His assumption was only half-true, but true nonetheless.

Airk puffed out his cheeks, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully. “Well, perhaps we could… test it out? See what it’s like?”

You eyed him with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“Married life,” he clarified. “Perhaps we could… try some of the things married people do? Just to see how it feels?”

Your eyes widened as you leaned back in shock. “I’m not doing that!” You crossed your arms over your chest and drew inward, suddenly feeling very exposed despite being fully dressed.

“No, no! I would never ask you to do that!” Airk sputtered, vigorously shaking his head.

You sighed in relief. Airk laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm his nerves.

“No, certainly not. I…” he cleared his throat. “…was truly suggesting we… try a kiss? Surely, married couples kiss. Perhaps we could just see how it feels?”

You glanced at his lips and contemplated his proposal. He had a point. “Yes.”

“Are you certain?” Airk’s eyes widened in surprise.

You nodded. “Well, we’ll be expected to kiss at our wedding anyway. May be convenient to remove the element of surprise.”

Airk positioned himself to face you. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“I haven’t either,” you lied, thinking back to the innocent kisses you shared with Kit as children. Despite her spicy personality, she had always tasted so sweet. You wondered if Airk would taste just as sweet.

Before you knew it, Airk had leaned in and connected his mouth to yours. His lips were wet, soaked with spit, and his coarse stubble scratched at your chin. He didn’t taste sweet; he barely tasted like anything at all. There was no buzzing in your ears, nor bursts of warmth in your chest, just two mouths collided in a dispassionate exchange.

When Airk pulled away, you felt like crying. He stared at you expectantly. “Was that alright?”

You stared back at him, trying to suppress the nauseous feeling in your stomach. As he waited for your response, all you could think about was how different it was from kissing Kit, how you had never longed for him in the same way, and if you were arranged to marry his sister instead of him, would you be as upset?

Your mind raced with memories of Kit: stolen kisses behind trees, late night sneakaways, sharing secrets under covers. You thought back to when Kit introduced you to lewd literature, remembering how those pictures of women made you feel. Realization hit you like a punch in the gut, causing you to clutch your stomach and audibly gag.

Airk frowned. “Was it not?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I have to go.”

You stood up and practically fled from the courtyard, leaving Airk to sit alone, his face crumpled with hurt and immersed in a flood of confusion.

Frigid winds whipped your tear-stained face as you dashed through the outskirts of the castle, your footsteps echoing against the pavement. Your mind raced, a mixture of flashbacks and fear swarming this newfound epiphany. When you reached the castle entrance, you burst through the doors, darting past your parents and ignoring the questions they fired at you.

You had to find her. You needed to speak with her.

Rushing up the stairs, you ran through the corridors, past your own bedchamber, and paused in front of another. You doubled over, resting your hands on your knees in an attempt to catch your breath, heart pounding like a stampede of wild horses.

Finally somewhat calm, you stood straight, gazing not at the door, but at the nothingness that stood between you and it. With a deep breath, you disregarded all knowledge of basic etiquette and threw open the door, not bothering to knock.

“Kit!” You cried.

Startled, Kit whipped around to face the door, not expecting visitors. Upon seeing you, her face darkened. “Oh, you again. What have you come here for?”

“Kit, please, I need to talk to you…”

“Why?” Kit interrupted. “Because you need help planning your wedding? Are you here to boast about marrying my brother? How you’re going to live happily-ever-after and have hundreds of children? Would you like name suggestions?”

“You don’t understand…” you tried to swallow the lump growing in your throat. “I can’t marry Airk.”

Kit seemed taken aback by your admittance, but her demeanor quickly hardened again. “I hadn’t realized the Tanthalos blood wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That is not the reason…”

“My apologies, your highness!” Kit exclaimed, each word dripping with venom. “I shouldn’t have assumed you would want to be the future Queen of Tir Asleen! Our lowly kingdom must not meet your impossibly high standards!”

“Would you listen to me?!” You smacked her arm, unable to stop angry tears from streaming down your face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Kit flinched upon contact, but her hostility remained unyielding. Still, she crossed her arms over her chest and squinted, waiting for your explanation.

You sniffed, choking back a sob. “Airk kissed me.”

Kit’s expression barely shifted, but her eyes momentarily flickered with confusion. “Your fiancé kissed you? How distressing.”

“You don’t understand…” you drew inward as you stared at the floor, avoiding her piercing stare. “I hated it.”

You saw Kit’s arms drop to her sides out of your peripheral vision, body language softening slightly. She took a step towards you, and you squeezed your eyes tight.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to marry Airk,” you repeated, finally looking up at her. “I don’t think I want to marry any prince.”

You took a seat on the edge of her bed and wiped your tear-stricken face. Kit stood stunned for a moment before moving to your side, placing a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Do you think you might be a…?”

The word you’d both been raised to believe was dirty sat unspoken on her lips: sapphic.

You nodded, ashamed. The idea of a woman being attracted to other women was extremely frowned upon, especially for someone of nobility like yourself. But as you sank into Kit’s touch, societal expectations no longer seemed so scary. She always did make you feel safe.

“What am I going to do?” You wondered out loud, not exactly expecting an answer. Kit pulled you in closer, staring at you with unblinking eyes. You met her gaze.

“Kit, I…”

And suddenly her mouth was on yours, taking you by surprise and making you jump. She pulled back in fear, searching your face for any sign of resistance.

“I… I’m sorry…” she sputtered. “I must have misread something…”

Not wanting her to finish that sentence, you grabbed her face and kissed her ferociously, this time taking her by surprise. She gasped against your mouth, but soon returned the kiss with as much passion as you had given.

Kissing Kit was nothing like kissing Airk. Her lips weren’t wet; they were perfectly moist, and her skin was smooth against yours. That familiar grape-juice taste from when you were kids had aged gracefully along with her, now bursting with the flavors of sweet wine. Neither of you were very experienced kissers, but it wasn’t awkward like it was with Airk; there was no clumsy collision, just two mouths exploring each other in an act of tender intimacy.

Kit picked up her movements, kissing you hungrily with a passion that almost bordered on desperation. She grabbed at your waist, pushing you down on the bed until she hovered over you. You moaned at the unexpected feeling of your head against the soft mattress, and that was all the reassurance Kit needed to keep going. She placed a hand on your stomach and started to untie the laces of your corset, moving at a snail's pace in case you were to oppose. When you didn't, she removed the restrictive garment and inched her fingers up your blouse. You gasped at the feeling of her skin against yours, but when she pulled away to check in, you immediately brought her back to you, not wanting her to stop for anything.

You writhed underneath her as she explored the skin underneath your blouse. Longing coursed through your veins, each brush of her fingertips feeling like the warmth of a thousand suns. When she grazed her thumb across a particularly sensitive area, you moaned into her mouth, lifting your hips and pressing your core into her body. She shivered under the newfound contact, pulling away and looking down at you with apprehension.

“I’ve never really done anything like this before,” she admitted.

“P-pardon?” You sputtered through labored breaths, your body craving her in a way it had never craved anyone before.

“This…” she gestured at both of your bodies. “…is all new to me.”

“Likewise,” you whispered before leaning in to reassure her with a gentle kiss. “We don’t have to do anything more than this tonight. I promise I’m enjoying myself.”

Kit seemed to relax. “Would that be alright?”

“Truly,” you replied, because it was. It was more than alright. It was perfect.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sophi4v13

[lilacgaby]

lucky me.

prohero!kirishima x reader

you always seemed to attract bad luck, yet you think your life might be turning around as you reconnect with light itself.

today was going horrible, just like every other day.

because of your quirk, luck, everyone's luck around you would be exponentially boosted. everyone, even the people who you hated would be lucky if they were within a 20-mile radius of you. you couldn't control it.

every single lottery won has been because someone was close to you, paychecks would come early, coins would always flip on heads, everyone in your class would always pass exams.. you get the deal.

the drawback? you'd have horrible luck your entire life.

as a kid, you'd trip and scrape your knees everyday. under pressure your voice would crack, or the tears you'd been attempting to hide would come out bursting, making you shake as you tried to speak.

the swings you'd use would snap, the slides would always burn you. your shoelaces would untie and make you fall. you'd always fall flat on your nose and have your nose bleed at the worse times. the only refuge from this? eijiro, who never seemed to mind. he'd call you brave for still doing those things despite knowing you'd get hurt.

he admired you, developing rose-tinted glasses for all things surrounding you over the years. in junior high, he'd hang around you still. he was a bit shy himself at this age, but he never failed to help you.. even as you tripped into a garbage can for the third time this week.

you hung out constantly, you were always at his home and his two mothers adored you. always up in his room as he tried to sing, as he fanboyed over crimson riot with you. you were even the one who dyed his hair, much to his mother's disdain.

you were there when he got accepted into U-A, he hugged you, calling you his good luck charm.

but after that, it seemed life had finally had to take the one good thing in your life away from you. obviously, you couldn't attend U-A, you had slept in the day general studies took their entrance exams, so you ended up in some run of the mill high school that didn't specialize in anything in particular.

eijiro was born a star, you knew it was pointless to love someone like that. someone who was destined for something more than you can dream of.

so you let your friendship die. as his messages to you came fewer and fewer, you let the memories of the good times he'd bring to you be the only remnants of your relationship, so that you could let him fly like he deserved.

after a quirk consultation way too late in your life, you managed to decrease your bad luck by 50%. it made all the difference in your life, allowing you to be in the middle top of your class, and let you get a job as a quirk consultant yourself.

you worked your way up for years, finally getting your bad luck down to 22%, just low enough to start your own consultant company that focused on quirks that would harm the users and cause prejudice against them.

everything was finally good. you were finally happy.

until red riot came crashing through the windows of your front door, the fight entering the office that was thankfully closed since it was a sunday.

"hey! what the hell?!"

"sorry 'bout that! watch out!"

there was a slab being chucked in your direction, just as it was about to hit.. red riot blocked it with a bit of hardening from his quirk. his face was colored with recognition as he saw you, but first,

"[name]?? wait, let me beat this guy first-"

"don't do it in my office!"

"too late for that--"

the villain, a sledgehammer.. man(?), had started removing huge pieces of cement from the inner workings of your wall. before he could get to attacking, your luck started to go to work. because of your consultations, you could now choose who your luck would effect,

but it'd bring your bad luck back to 100%.

eijiro, now unbreakable, easily beat the guy. he carried him out to the streets full of police that took him into custody.

he went back to normal, looking back at you. you were reeling, looking at the months worth of damage done. he went up to place a hand on your shoulder.

"i-im real sorry [name]. but hey, at least i got to see you right?"

"my company is destroyed."

"y-yeah, but hey! could be worse! you could be uh-- dead or something."

you sighed at that. "i guess you're right.. thanks red ri--"

"eijiro." he corrected, adamant as he held you by the shoulders.

"eijiro. thank you for saving my life.. even if my place is wrecked. and my favorite elephant pot too.." he looked genuinely distraught at not having been able to see the pot. "hey, i have an idea to get cheered up!"

she looked hopeful, wanting a moment away from the legal mess she'd have to go through to request funds to rebuild her place. "what is it?"

- - -

so he invited you on a date. can you blame him? you looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

he had the biggest crush on you since junior high. he just thought you were the cutest thing, you were so nice, so sweet to him. everytime you did everything his heart would leap out of his chest.

and this rang true at the date he organized at his new house: a large mansion, decked out in a classier version of his favorite 'manly' style of furniture, with the help of an interior designer of course.

he let you inside, he was letting you sleep in one of his spare rooms since your apartment that was on the second floor of your office was now deemed unsafe.

he had a small, yet probably more expensive than your house itself, dinner prepared for you two.

there were more dishes set out on the table than you think you've had your entire life. as you two caught up, laughed, and slowly became more comfortable like you used to be, he felt his heart soar.

you noticed your bad luck was dropping even faster than it would normally in his presence. it had already become 21% from 100%.

it took you a year to get it that low the first time. you looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, being pulled out of your thoughts by eijiro's joke flexing.

he brought out the final meal. as you two shared a comically huge piece of cake, you laughed at the realization.

he was your good luck charm, as much as your were his.

[taistelutaide]

Wham! The alpha man's jaw is clenched as his knockout punch sends your unconscious boyfriend flying onto the ropes in his own corner.

Wham! He pounds your boyfriend so hard he flies back the other way.

Wham! Boom! Bam! Wham! Boom! Bam! The punches just keep coming, batting your boyfriend back and forth like a limp rag doll.

Bam! You watch as your boyfriend starts to go down, unbelievably aroused as you take in the alpha man's chiseled jaw, still clenched as he catches you staring, and the corner of his mouth quirks upward in a suggestive grin. Bam! He hits your man again, eliciting a thrilled gasp from you, and his eyes glint enthusiastically at your reaction...

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Suddenly every punch hits like a sledgehammer, slamming your boyfriend's jaw back as he jolts up and down against the ropes, edging upward as the astoundingly powerful punches keep him upright against the corner pad.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! The alpha man just hits harder and harder, tossing the knocked out man to and fro as you begin to moan, cumming in your pants at the alpha's extraordinary display of power.

The alpha man sees out of the corner of his eye as you succumb to his dominance, continuing to beat your boyfriend senseless while you quake with pleasure, and the ring quakes from the repeated impacts as the alpha smacks the unconscious fighter around like a speedbag.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

[thegoofyfanaticus]

(( Art is commissioned from the incredibly talented ArtReplicant. Original story by me. ))

Greg's vision swam, the warehouse lights blurring into halos as he tried to ground himself. His ribs ached, jaw throbbing, and a trickle of blood from his lip traced a path down his chin. The last two blows had been brutal—precision hits meant to finish a man—and they very nearly had. Greg could still feel the throb of Tyler’s hook pulsing in his skull like a war drum. His footing was shaky, his legs loose. Greg tried to focus his eyes quickly, knowing that if he were in Tyler's place, he would strike to end the fight. The blur ahead of him was moving. Was he twisting? All Greg could tell was that Tyler was building momentum. Greg blinked again and gained some clarity in focus—too slow.

WHAM!

The spinning elbow landed with terrifying force. The sharp bone of Tyler’s arm crashed directly into Greg’s cheek and upper jaw, the entire torque of the Marine’s body driving the strike through him like a sledgehammer wrapped in sweat and fury. Tyler struck with sickening precision. The entirety of the Marine's torque created by Tyler's muscular physique drove his elbow like a battering ram sent in to shatter whatever blocked its path. Greg's skin compressed and nearly sheared open as the elbow dragged against the hard ridge of Greg's cheekbone. The crack of impact was sharp, wet, brutal, and resounded loudly over the collective gasps that reactively came from everyone watching the fight. It was as if thunder struck inside the warehouse. Pack members walking by at the moment of impact came running in to see who or what had just been destroyed. Tyler drove his elbow up through Greg's face, nearly crushing the zygomatic arch under Greg's eye socket. Finishing his follow-through, Tyler's forearm clubbed the outer ridge of Greg's maxilla, sending sharp pains radiating through Greg's face.

The Omegas watched in silent awe and horror as Greg's neck was violently wrenched back, his muscle fibers visibly twitching under the stress of the blow. The cubs recoiled in shock as spit and blood launched from Greg's mouth in a red wet spray, flung wide by the speed of the spin and the force behind it.

Greg felt his cheek fold slightly as the bone inside instantly bruised and possibly fractured. He felt swelling as no doubt the capillaries in his cheek burst open from the trauma of the strike. The iron metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth as he expelled blood and spit. Greg's eyes fluttered, unfocused, and started to roll back in his head. He felt his body fly backward as it crumbled from the trauma it had just endured.

As Tyler finished his follow-through, he watched with a cruel, wicked smile on his face as Greg's body fell to the mat. A visceral guttural yell echoed from Tyler's mouth. A primal rage in Tyler's eyes watched in delight the scene before him.

Time had seemed to slow for all in the warehouse room. As the seconds ticked by, all wondered if Tyler, burning with unrelenting disgust for Greg, had proven his dominance. The Omegas knew this fight wasn't just about control of this argument or even control of this class, but proving a belief, enforcing a system that Tyler had built through sheer strength and force. Tyler's system for training the cubs was harsh, brutal even, but the system had turned out solid fighters who could handle themselves well when it came to their trials. In the beginning, many of The Pack challenged these methods. Each one, Tyler had left broken and submissive. Ethan seemed content with the end result of cubs who could eventually pass all their trials, so he left Tyler in charge. In his mind, if anyone was better suited for the last class the cubs had before their trials, they could follow the way of The Pack: challenge Tyler and settle it on the mat. In time, everyone came to understand that Tyler ruled the final class. Seeing the events unfold as they did today, some of the Omegas started to wonder if this hate had been slowly building, and the Elites, Sigmas, and other Omegas simply missed seeing the signs or ignored them.

Regardless, Greg had challenged Tyler's authority in a way no one had done in months. In the absence of The Alpha and The Beta, this was the way such challenges were settled. One or two Omegas wondered if Tyler purposely pushed the envelope when Ethan was away as a way to establish a degree of control, considering he had lost his Elite status to Calvin and then to Mateo, one who was very openly gay, while the other seemed to be heteroflexible. Each challenge was met with increased brutality. Tyler made sure everyone knew this was his class and he would handle things his way.

THUD.

Greg hit the mat. Hard. He landed on his back, limbs sprawled. Blood trickled from his mouth, and his chest rose in small, shallow movements. His head turned slightly to the side, face dazed, bruising already blooming along his jaw and cheekbone. It seemed to all that this was the end as Tyler moved in for the kill, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his torso, jaw clenched like a pitbull ready to grab the jugular.

The room held its breath, waiting for the next heartbeat, the next movement—wondering if Greg had been silenced just like the ones before him…

[jenniferjareauwife]

I hate Andrew and would love the rage room 😂🤬

Rage Room

pairing: jennifer jareau x daughter reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 646

age: 16

summary: your mom brings you to a rage room

I saw my mom through the window of the rage room and smiled. She had her phone out, recording me. I had taped a picture of Andrew's face to the glass table I was about to absolutely demolish. I put on my goggles and watched her count down until I started smashing the sledgehammer against the glass table, smiling as I saw the glass fly everywhere, imagining it was Andrew.

It didn't time long for me to destroy everything in the room, and once I did I walked outside and high fived my mom, taking off my glasses. "With the amount of enjoyment I felt doing that I wouldn't be surprised if I were to turn out to be a serial killer."

"I don't want to have to send you to jail so I'm going to pretend like I never heard that." I laughed and looked through the window again, seeing the flash shards everywhere and the shredded picture of Andrew.

"I want him to see it."

"If he does he's going to file for a restraining order." She pointed out.

"Well...maybe I can hit him with a sledgehammer instead."

"Well...then you'd be in prison for murder."

"But since I'm not 18 yet it would be expunged from my records once I turned 18."

"Not if you intentionally murder someone." She put her arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple as we walked out of the building.

"But what if it was accidental?"

"I don't think the judge would buy that."

"Mom! You're supposed to be on my side here!" I protested, getting into the car with a disappointed look on my face. "I wish I didn't date a stupid piece of shit for a year." I slumped down in my seat.

"Me too. But you're not dating him anymore. So it's ok."

"I know but I wasted a year on him. Imagine if I had been with the right person. I would be so much happier."

"Yeah." My mom sighed and patted my knee. "Well...it might take you a while to find your person."

"Wow. That makes me feel so much better." I said sarcastically.

"I'm 43 and I still haven't found my person. But I'm so happy with you! You're all I need." She grabbed my hand.

"But what if I don't have kids? What if I'm just alone?"

"You're 16. You have so much time to find the right person for you." She started the car and backed out of the parking lot. "You're not expected to find the love of your life in high school." I sighed, leaning my head against the window. "It's gonna be ok, you know? Now that you dated someone like Andrew you know the red flags for people like him." She pointed out.

"Yeah. I guess."

"It's gonna be alright honey." We finally arrived home and I was so glad to just be home and spend time with my mom. She put her hand on my upper back and led me upstairs to my room. We both laid down on my bed and she grabbed my laptop from my nightstand, handing it to me so I could type in my password. I pulled up Gilmore Girls and leaned into my mom, hugging her arm tightly.

"Thanks for taking me to the rage room. I really needed that. I've felt so angry for so long and it felt amazing to finally be able to get it all out."

"Of course honey." She kissed the top of my head. "It always feels nice to relieve your anger. Especially when it's about a shitty boyfriend."

"You had a shitty boyfriend?"

"Mhm. Many. A lot of lessons learned." I sighed and leaned into her more. "But it's gonna be ok, yeah?"

"Yeah...I guess."

"It will be. No I guess."

"Ok...it'll be ok."

"I love you sweetie."

"I love you too mom."

[thatchickwithtoomanyhobbies]

The End (Daniels)

***An alternative universe where sledgehammer killed off everyone but Daniels Saving-Private-Ryan-style. AKA- what would’ve happened had my mother been part of the writing staff. Note: Events in this story are different than the canon storyline (duh). Slight *puke warning*! Implied *Self-Deletion*! Do not read if that’ll be upsetting!***

He had to find him. Robert Zussman- his best friend, the last one left from his platoon, the man he vowed to fight to the end with, the person he cared about most in the world (besides his wife and child of course)- had been taken by the Nazi’s nearly four months earlier.

He’d been beside him for so long. He grieved the loss of their other friends with him. He’d given him words of encouragement when he found out he was going to be a father. He’d helped patch him up after a long day of battles. He’d been there for him through thick and thin, and the least he could do was go save him now. If only he could’ve saved the others…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stiles had perished storming the beach. The poor man had seen the shell dropping and tried to jump out of the way, but he was too late. The bomb dropped right on top of him, sending him flying.

Zussman and Aiello had gotten to him first, and were surprised to find him still alive, glasses smashed, his legs below the knees gone. They’d tried to tourniquet them, but it was no use. The man had bled out less than a minute later crying for his ma. Apologizing to the air. Saying he was sorry it had to end this way.

He’d taken his last breath in Zussman’s arms, trying to tell him to tell his ma he loved her and would miss her.

The poor chap never got the chance to finish his sentence before his heart stopped. Daniels took his camera off his body, promising himself he’d send it back to his ma when he got the chance. From what Stiles had said of her, she’d want the thing to remember him by.

That poor woman. She’d already lost two of her five children in a car accident several year prior. Now she had lost yet another one to a dictator hungry for power.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pierson was lost when the church had collapsed at Marigny. Aiello was with Jones taking out the AA Guns when German artillery started hitting the church. Once the building started coming down they’d all rushed to get out of it. Daniels had gotten knocked off the ladder when the bell fell and lay dazed on the floor under a fallen rafter.

Zussman, determined to help his friend, stayed back and helped pry off the piece of wood and get Daniels on his feet costing them precious time. The sergeant had yelled at them to keep moving. Quickly, before the building came down. By the time Zuss had gotten himself and Daniels to the door, the building was coming down on their heads.

Pierson, in one heroic action, grabbed both men and threw them out of the building and onto the street to safety. The last last thing the two soldiers saw was their Sergeant looking up in horror as the building collapsed, trapping him beneath the rubble.

Once they cleared the street, the remaining men dug through the remnants of the building for him, hoping that maybe he could be alive. It was in vain, as they found no trace of their commander in the rubble.

Pierson had a wife and two young sons back home. Sons that would now grow up without a father. In a way, Daniels blamed himself. If he hadn’t gotten trapped, perhaps Pierson would still be alive.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They had lost Aiello and Turner on the same day just minutes apart, something that made their deaths seem the worst out of all of them.

It was the same day he’d gotten the news that he was going to be a father. Aiello had teased him about it most of the morning to the point where he had snapped at him. Something that Daniels deeply regretted now. He’d take back his hash words to the man and laugh with him. Tease him back perhaps.

Turner had sent Aiello along with second platoon as they were a few men short. They all thought they’d be fine. Apparently not.

From what Daniels heard from the other men, Aiello- forever stubborn- had run ahead when they heard a singular shot ring out. Whether from a German or from Aiello they had no idea.

Daniels found out when he climbed the hill to find Aiello lying dead in the mud, a singular gunshot wound to the chest. There was no time to grieve him. No time for a even a prayer for him to reach heaven. The had to keep moving.

All he had wanted was to get home and throw himself headfirst into a music career.

“Forget Frank Sinatra! Frank Aiello is the next heartthrob, boys! I’m gonna top the billboards!”

He’d never get the chance to find out if that was true, his drum set back home now sitting forever unused.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Turner was gone just a few minutes after Aiello. In some ways his was the hardest hitting of all, as he had given his life for the men to escape. But Daniels blamed himself, as Turner had been helping him up when he was shot in the back.

Turner insisted they leave him behind. To retreat while he held them off.

“No sacrifice too great,” he told Daniels managing a weak smile. In his opinion, this was too great a sacrifice. Turner had a wife and three children back home. With this one action, he was making her a widow and his three children fatherless.

Turner commanded them to go yet again. Zussman had grabbed him by the arm and ran. He had been forced to watch as Turner was inevitably shot dead by the Germans and lay lifeless in the middle of a German forest.

His family would never get to see his final resting place or say their last goodbyes. He was yet another casualty of this terrible war.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Zussman was the last one left from the first platoon besides Daniels himself, which made finding him even more urgent.

Zuss was the only one who knew just how much they had suffered. How much loss they had endured. How lonely the nights got once everyone was gone. The nights they’d console each other from memories plaguing their minds. Nobody knew like they did. He needed to find him. If he were to turn up less than alive…

He pushed the thought out of his head. He’d be alive. He’d be ok. They’d go back to the states together and maybe he could move Zussman in. Hazel would be ok with it. He could be an uncle to the baby and earn his keep helping out with chores on the farm. He’d suggest it to him when he found him.

He didn’t wait for the truck to stop before jumping out and running into the camp, screaming Zussman’s name. Maybe he’d hear. Maybe he’d answer. As he ran through the camp, he soon realized that it had been deserted and not too long before. He hoped, prayed, that Zuss was still alive. Unfortunately that prayer was not to be answered.

He looked up passing the gallows, noticing there was a man hanging there. He stood and stared, wondering how people could do this to their fellow humans when suddenly the horror dawned on him.

“Zussman! No!” He screamed, climbing up onto the platform to cut his friend down.

It was too late. Zussman was gone. He picked up his best friend and held him in his arms, his body was still slightly warm. He had been just a few minutes too late. If only he had gotten there sooner.

He put him down and let loose the contents of his stomach. It was his fault. If he had gotten there sooner. If he had driven faster.

He held his best friend in his arms and sobbed. He was last one left of the first platoon. The only one who survived the horrors of this war. They were all gone. He’d be the only one to go home to his family. He took the Saint Michael pendant off of his friend. He wasn’t catholic, in fact he had been raised baptist, but the longing to have something to remind him of his friend was stronger than his religious ties.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He rode up to the old farmhouse, barely a shell of the man who had left it nearly a year before. He lost everyone he cared about in Europe. His best friends. His superiors. He was the last surviving member of the first platoon.

That was odd. He figured Hazel would meet him outside when he arrived. Maybe she was inside nursing the baby. She had always been a bit more conservative, so she didn’t want to expose herself. That explained it.

As he walked up the front steps he imagined how good it would feel to hold her again. To kiss her lips. To snuggle up next to her on cold nights. He had missed her so much.

As he went to open the door he realized that it was unlocked. That was strange. She always locked the front door. It was the back door they left unlocked during the day. He was starting to feel uneasy now.

“Hazel?” he called into the house, door slightly ajar, hoping to hear her voice. He received no answer. He pushed the door open all the way. The sight that met his eyes shocked him.

The house was empty. Every single piece of furniture downstairs was gone. This couldn’t be happening. He’d heard stories from other men of this happening, but he never thought it would happen to him. He hoped this was some sort of cruel trick on Hazel’s part.

He quickly ran upstairs, calling his wife’s name. Praying he’d find her and his son up there, only to find the upstairs just as empty as the floor below.

He ran down the hall to their bedroom, crying slightly. He hoped she’d be in there. Maybe she sold the furniture to pay the bills. Or perhaps she was getting it replaced. He knew that was unlikely, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe the reality of the situation.

He burst into the room, finding only the old bed and mattress stripped bare. There was a note taped to the wooden headboard. With trembling hands he removed and read it. He broke down in sobs as the reality set in.

The baby wasn’t his and Hazel was gone, having moved in with the kid’s true father and taken the furniture for their new house. Everything he had was gone. What was the point? He had no wife. No son. His friends were dead. He couldn’t do it.

He pulled the picture out of his pocket, the one of him and the boys in basic and the only one Stiles ever got with Pierson smiling. He missed them. They had all been lost overseas.

He felt for the pistol in his other pocket. He managed a slight smile at the realization it was still there. He pulled it out and walked downstairs, out the back door, and into the fields behind the house. This was the end of the line for him.

He couldn’t wait to see the boys again. Stiles and his constant yapping, Aiello cursing up a storm, Zussman’s antics. Even Pierson and Turner. He rubbed his thumb over the picture.

“Hey, boys. I’ve missed you…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The neighbors heard a singular pistol shot ring out across the fields dividing the houses. That was pretty normal to hear coming from the Daniels’ family farm. Red was probably shooting at another rat that got in the house. If only they knew the reality.

In an instant, the war had claimed yet another life, this one on American soil.

***I will admit, I may have shed a few tears writing this one. Especially Daniels’ ending there. Killing off the characters you love will do that to you. Perhaps I should go to therapy.***

[x-heesy]

𝝠 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗨𝗟 𝗛𝝠𝗣𝗣𝗬 𝗘𝝠𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡, 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝝝𝗙 𝗕𝗟𝝠𝗦𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗬 <𝟯

Paid a fee door let me in free

Some of us pro and don't need id

I speak and birds open up they beak

Fly fly from inside slow motion speed

Loop senses drop your britches and work

Herc power struck down a jerky nurse

Phony medical robe surely came from home

Pull the knot out stoked tag t'the mack en vogue

Que modela Coachella when the tunes released

Planetary domination hardly get to sleep

Marley weekend freak, smoke a blunt and eat

Pancake dirty date kirbey lane on e

Honey claws got the psalms for the junky church

Runny gaws hitting pause so your body don't hurt

I think I'm finally perched on a tree to desert

The underground coma sound bullshit that's the worst

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

Shoot a lot of lip get split like Gemini

Two hemispheres two mind one pan fry

My business truncate nemesis

Now future's free of skirmishes

Deep fucking d cup tournaments

Slow busting thrusting murderous

Nightlife want me back by nine

Finish up exchange and ride

Put a lot into coup de etat none of this is new to me

Fuckers thought they'd play the part super Clarke change the scene

Likely dream cept for the part pertaining to the talent

Them motherfucking money-suckers chop 'em into salad

Ceiling w/a pillow watching the prophecy drop

Somehow feeling halfway guilty sleeping the sympathy off

Pray for anarchist law blind mischivalrous pigs

You can't cuff up my wrist if you can't find it

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

Digital animals freaky folks

Belly covered up t-shirt red tiger

Drool down the lip striped saber-toothed slimmer

Dribble spit tip scale dirty dogma

Puppy love blocked shaka twa ménage

Ninja, ninja, vanish m.o. creep

Naughty fucking freaks and busting techniques

East west battle best turn your bones to ashes

Send 'em to the kin w/ the symbol on the package

Grow the fascination larger than it ever was

Walls kicked over Berlin snap cameras

Gallagher Petey G sledgehammer family

Dabble w/ insanity granted me the amnesty

I learned my lesson messing up my life is not the way to wreck it check the sm58

Replace the vibe behind your face piece

Bass beats your basics plus me it's the combination

Known to defeat the beast and his gatekeeper

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

D d d d d d d d d digital animal freaking folks

Digital Animal by Honey Claws 🦞

Spotify

[brinconvenient]

Hey there! Just wanted to drop in as another trans guy and say that I too took your reply to Nicholas in the intended way, and that I feel the other guy laying into you did not need to be anywhere near that harsh. A simple "hey this could be taken as rude for x y and z" would have more than sufficed. I also feel his comparing "sharing childhood experiences/desires from the other side of the coin" directly to "prison rape", as though those two things are comparable, was ill-advised at best and downright disrespectful at worst. I don't think the dude deserves flaming/brigading because I've seen enough flaming over petty disagreements for a lifetime, but I do think he needs to *starkly* reconsider his chosen analogy, as the analogy was far, *far* more upsetting, childish, and offensive to me than "oh dang, wish I could've done the glamorshot instead of you OP!"

Yada yada, we *need* transmasc-transfemme solidarity, tearing each other apart in 2025 under this social climate isn't the best idea when we could just kindly remind each other of sore spots, also I'm intrigued by the guy not realizing how much we as trans dudes do the same thing with transfemmes, like wishing we could've done boy scouts instead, etc. If you don't want to reply to this ask publicly don't feel required to do so, I just wanted to extend an (albeit anonymous) hand and tell you that to me you weren't horrifically out of line, as the other fella felt, but his analogy was. Peace love and solidarity!

Thank you, too, for responding. I just published an ask from another guy who was bothered by my post, so I appreciate the affirmation that the hurtful reading isn't universal.

As for the first guy, yeah, I certainly don't want to drag him. He deserved an apology and I gave it to him in sincerity, but ... yeah, that particular analogy felt a little like hitting a fly with a sledgehammer to me, but I also understand that he was hurting and was trying to convey the level of hurt he was feeling. Hopefully, this was a learning opportunity for him, too.

I, too, wish us all the grace to hear the lessons we need to learn and to overcome the immediate response to lash out instead of extending grace to each other. We will do a lot better building solidarity when we put out traffic cones and caution tape around the tender places so we can learn to tread more carefully.

All of us trans folks have different sensitive spots, and when our siblings know more, they can avoid stepping on the hurtful places and, even better, can help direct others to firmer ground.

We're all in this mess together, man, and no one gets out of here alive, so why not try to make each other's brief blip of time here safer and more enjoyable, you know?

Thanks for the grace, and have a lovely day!

[xhmeusworld]

one hit (to the body) | vernon chwe

genre: non idol! vernon, angst, fluff, transgender reader (ftm)

pairings: vernon chwe x transgender reader (ftm)

warnings: injury

word count: 1k

note: okay, i started writing with the intent to always write gender neutral imagines; however, i believe representation is critical. as a trans person myself, more works surrounding trans people was always something i was looking for and hopefully by posting this, i’m helping someone get comfort from the fact that they are not alone and that they are being seen within this world. they are not being erased or overlooked. they are real and deserve a better world. that being said, my messages are always open

everything was spinning as you lowered yourself down on the bench. your legs felt like jelly and your ribs burnt like fire. your face was coated with a fine layer of sweat and you had to resist the urge to rest your cheek against the cold metal bench. the nausea in your stomach made it hard to focus. you didn’t even notice that someone had yanked your baseball helmet off until a stream of cold water met your head, drenching your unruly hair and running under the collar of your black and red jersey.

“are you sure you’re okay, y/n?” your teammate, vernon, asked, raking his hand through the young boy’s wet hair in an attempt to get it out of his face. “you look like you’re overheating.”

if it was a normal day, you would be mentally freaking out over the fact that the boy who you had a crush on since seventh grade year was running his hands through your hair, but your brain felt too much like mush in your head.

your eyes squinted up at vernon and breathing through the pain your ribs, you spoke. “i’m fine.”

“you don’t look fine to me, y/n,” coach countered, jogging up to you. “you’ve been off since warm-ups and i can tell your brain isn’t in the game today. that’s the reason why i called a timeout. i think you should stay on the bench for the reminder of the time.”

you shook your head, water droplets still falling from your hair. “no, i can play. i’m okay. it’s just hot out today. the water vernon poured on my head helped.”

you hoped that your voice sounded convincing. coach mulled over your words for a few seconds before releasing a sigh. “fine, but if i think for a moment that you’re unfit to play, i’m pulling you out whether you like it or not. now, let’s get back in the game. it’s your turn to pitch.”

you nodded as vernon grabbed onto your hands, pulling you to your feet. you held back a cry of pain as your ribs were set ablaze once again.

vernon gave you a look of concern before running out toward the outfield. you slipped on your mitt, running toward the pitcher’s mound. you could hardly breathe as you attempted to zero in on the area you were supposed to aim for. your limbs felt heavy as you lifted your left leg, letting the ball fly.

you honestly weren’t even sure how you were still standing. the black stars exploding in your line of vision made you feel disoriented and it felt like there was weight on your chest. you were so focused on not passing out that you didn’t even notice the batter make contact with the ball, sending it flying in your direction.

“y/n!” vernon called out while the rest of the team called, “look out!”

vernon rushed toward you, but he wasn’t quick enough. the ball made a sickening crack as hit the side of your head, knocking you to the ground. you weren’t even awake when you hit the dirt mound below.

however, the moment you woke up, it felt like someone had took a sledgehammer to your skull. your hand moved up to touch your temple, but instead it came in contact with soft material, which could only be gauze. you let out a groan as you attempted to open your eyes only to be greeted by harsh light. you were in the nurse’s office.

“what happened?” you asked as you felt movement to your left. you turned your head, causing another burst of black to enter your vision, to see seungkwan positioned next to your bed.

“a baseball hit you in the head,” your best friend and fellow teammate explained, grabbing a hold of your hand in preparation to pull you off of your back. “how do you feel? are you dizzy? is the pain bad?”

“on a scale of one to ten, i would say-” you let out a yelp as seungkwan pulled you up into a sitting position. your hand instinctively moved to your rib cage. you expected your fingers to come in contact with the fabric of your baseball uniform, but instead, you touched bare skin.

“why is my jersey unbuttoned?” you asked, your breath coming out heavy.

seungkwan sighed. “when vernon carried you in, you weren’t breathing right. the nurse had to check your heart and-”

your eyes widened as you searched the blonde’s face. “does he know?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

seungkwan gave you a sad look. “i tried to get him to leave before the nurse did anything, but he was worried about you. he wanted to stay.”

an involuntary sound left your lungs as you realized the power that your best friend’s words held. the secret you had been hiding your entire middle and high school career was out and it wasn’t even your decision. a sob escaped your lungs, intensifying the pain in your ribs and chest.

“hey, hey,” seungkwan whispered, cupping your face. “breathe, okay? crying is only going to make your ribs hurt worse. the nurse wanted to take it off of you, but your dad told her to wait until he got here.” he gently pulled the smaller boy against his body, being careful to not squeeze you too hard. “you shouldn’t have slept in it last night. my family wouldn’t have noticed anything. i should have made you take it off.”

you pulled back from seungkwan, your eyes filled with tears. “he’s going to tell everyone. the whole school is going to know. I’ll get kicked off the team.”

your words caught in your throat as the nurse’s office door opened and the last person you wanted to see stepped in. you wanted to scream as the vernon’s eyes darted down to the binder constricting your chest. “i’m not going to tell anyone, y/n.”

“why? because you don’t want to expose the transgender kid?” you spat out.

vernon gave you a small smile. “no, because i care about the boy in front of me.”

[ja-khajay]

Tagged by @ervona to post about 5 songs I've been listening to lately! Making a little mix and match playlist based on the half dozen tracks on my phone and songs I've recently discovered. I will detail a bit about each under the cut :)

Nouar - Cheika Rimitti (rai)

Twilight of the Thunder god - Amon Amarth (metal)

What's Golden - Jurassic 5 (hiphop)

Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel (pop)

Potions - Puscifer (? rock ?)

NOUAR

A few months ago, the combination of discovering a rai playlist on Spotify based on an artist I listen to with friends and another discovery of a radio station that exclusively plays north african and middle eastern music, the latter which became my go-to listen on the way from work for a while, I discovered this specific track. It's a huge niche hit, unknown to the general public but racking up in the millions of views online among fans of the genre and it's easy to see why! This is an absolutely hypnotic track which cleverly layers it's intrument with a catchy sung melody, periodically cut by the rythmic choir repeating its title. The main singer in the dialog has an outstanding voice and this all makes for a looping, hooking listening experience that makes you want to play it forever.

Twilight of the Thunder God

In a very different vibe, we have a track that perfectly matches it's overdesigned, historically based (yet inaccurate) cheesy madness of an album cover. This is the only song if this band I'm familiar with as a big hit. Power metal is among some of my favorite genres of music of all time, especially in it's overbearing energy and gratuitous use of double-pedals on the kick drum, fast bass and general theatrics. While I'm not a fan of growled vocals, this track compensates in my mind with one of THE catchiest hooks I know of in the genre. When I listen to TofTG, it's because I suddently remember it one day and get instantly compelled to download it on my phone and scream its lyrics at the sky until it leaves my head where it's stuck. This can take weeks...

What's Golden

Yet another radio discovery! I'm shamefully bad at hiphop, despite liking the genre a lot, no-one around me listened to it for ages so I don't have similar backlog as in other genres and as such as a grown adult am discovering it all with enthusiasm. This song sums up so many aspects I love in the genre which i'll definitly be using to nail what specific sub-genres are my favorite some day... catchy with a great flow and an instrumental that hooks you, it's impossible to not nod along to the beat and drop what I'm doing to listen to the full thing when it comes up on my playlist.

Sledgehammer

Yeah yeah it's a classic you all know it. And for a reason! This is one of, if not the only song I know which I can't separate from it's music video. I typically dislike MVs and prefer listening to music in pure audio format, but Sledgehammer comes with such a well crafted, wlel synched and creative film attached that it's always playing in my head when I hear it. This song was introduced to me by a mutual a few years ago which I'll be tagging in this post later as a thank you! I don't get its appeal as a dancey song, but it's definitly a track to dramatically walk to, which is probably the appeal the rest of this site sees in Once in a Lifetime...

Potions

For the nerds in the audience, this is a Reznor and Maynard collab so you know what you're getting into. The first thing that strikes me in this track is how loud the bass is - it turns the classic rock instrumental it's made from into something else that's just slightly overwhelming. And on top of that, very delicate vocals detail a raw, simple story of love and addiction. Where I chose this song above the many others of the band I'd been listening to a lot last month is this particular theme it has fits very well with a book series I'm reading right now, and it was easy for me to let my mind fly away with it on...:)

***

Runner ups: The Shame Of Life - Butthole Surfers / Ai vist to Lop - Mont-Jòia / Feuer Frei! - Rammstein / For me, Formidable - Charles Aznavour / It Mek - Desmond Dekker & the Aces

***

Tagging, your turn! @steamclouds @prolibytherium @internationalspacehobo @paristonhilll

[lostlegendaerie]

yesss please drabble about the dreamxxdream rinharu airport art 🙌 I love that one so much I have it printed out on my wall

[based on this piece by @dreamxxdream ]

It's been a shit day. Flying always makes him feel a little sick between the motion of the plane and the dehydration of the air pressure, and he fought with his sister over text before boarding, so he didn't get any sleep on the flight. He's come home on a coach-enforced training break after he sprained his Achilles tendon when he slipped getting out of the pool and overextended the joint, and he just got the news the stray cat they always fed had to be put to sleep. If he were a few years younger, he'd be trying not to cry in public. (He still is, but he's succeeding this time. Take that, middle school self.)

What's worse is that Haru is the one who is picking him up today. Not to say that he isn't excited to see him; he's only been in love with the guy since he was in elementary school, but the feelings have always seem to him to be one-sided. That had even been what he fought with his sister about before he left Sydney; refusing to agree with her delusions that his friend and rival was even half as excited to see Rin as Rin was to see Haru.

He knows Haru won't be there with flowers and a sign with his name on it (he would crawl under the furniture with embarrassment if he was, oh my god) and that he'll get a nod and an offer to help carry his bags and a quiet drive back to his house. It's just--

Today is the kind of day he wishes he'd get a little more than that. But it's Haru, bothering to get out of the bathtub and pick him up, so he'll be grateful about it and pretend he's not a yawning wound of a man, waiting desperately for Haru to fill him. Makoto would have been a better choice. Might have even given him a hug.

The world is still unsteady under Rin's feet when he finally makes it through customs, still adjusting the backpack straps on his back, and makes eye contact with Haru just outside the glass doors. He steps forward, a cocky smirk already stretching across his face but--

Haru isn't waiting. He's coming to meet Rin, bright-eyed and just barely stopping himself from running. Rin's expression buckles, the exhaustion and simple human need to be touched yanking him forward despite the pain in his ankle and he only barely remembers to drag his wheeled suitcase behind him as he breaks into a hobbling jog.

Rin is hit with an armful of Haruka Nanase like an emotional sledgehammer, and just that easily his emotional walls crumble. He buries his face into Haru's shoulders, tears welling up behind his eyes, and squeezes Haru back.

"I missed you," Haru says, holding him back just as tight.

"Yeah," Rin chokes.

"I'm sorry about your cat."

"Yeah," he repeats, an eloquent and mature man who is absolutely not crying in the Tokyo airport. He does, however, squeeze Haru a little tighter as he breathes in the familiar scent of honeysuckle detergent, cheap deodorant, and the ever-present tang of chlorine that forms the aromatic memory of Haru in his mind. "Me too." To all of it.

Haru doesn't let him go immediately, letting them stand there and sway gently in the chaos of the airport, lost in each other's embrace. If Rin listens, he can hear Haru's heartbeat, just a little faster than normal, and he wonders if he owes Kou an apology for more than just his tone.

"Welcome home," Haru says, and Rin laughs into his shoulder.

"It's good to be back."