#hopefully faster than the tv and movie strike

[labwebs]

🕸️didn’t even take a full half hour for the “don’t you dare express sadness at something you’ve been looking forward to possibly getting delayed because of a strike” conversation to happen this time. lovely. 🙃

[my-writings-and-musings]

TFA Bulkhead/Bumblebee

Bulkhead, hoping to paint Bumblebee, finds a number of unexpected hurdles in the form of a willing but very fidgety model.

Got a lovely commission that the commissioner was okay with me sharing, so here it is! I had so much fun writing this, and remember, I'm always open if you'd like a fic for yourself.

Working up courage wasn't something one had to do often when they were as big and strong as Bulkhead, but he'd needed every bit he could spare to approach Bumblebee with what he'd feared was a ridiculous request. The fact he could expect his friend to say yes had brought him little comfort, because being rejected just scared him too much. He didn't want to admit how long it had taken him to prepare…

But finally, the day had come, and he approached the little bot as one might an armed explosive.

"Uh… Bumblebee?" he spoke softly, tapping his big servos together to try and call himself down. Bumblebee was relaxing and watching something on TV, and Bulkhead was so nervous he couldn't even tell what. Primus, he was just grateful they were alone, or else this would have been impossible! Bumblebee thankfully noticed him right away, lifting his helm to look at his friend with a smile.

"What's up, Bulk?" he said in greeting, half turning back to the television before doing an actual double take back to the big bot. Concern crossed his features, and he raised a curious brow ridge before he spoke again. "You feeling okay?"

Bulkhead realized just then that his nervousness was probably showing through like a beacon, and he gulped in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to disappear on the spot. Just his luck that things would already be going poorly… Steeling himself, he took a deep vent and put on the biggest smile he could manage. "Yeah, f-fine!" he gasped out, trying not to tremble. Wishing he'd written down what he wanted to say, he just managed to put some words together and speak, hoping he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt. "I just wanted… wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Bumblebee asked, expression not changing once. Near to collapsing, Bulkhead soldiered on, wondering with every word if he'd made a huge mistake.

"Well you… you know I've been painting a lot lately, and I was wondering…" he gulped again, closing in on the final thing he'd come to ask and hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake in the process. If this worked, it might just be the happiest day of his life…

"I'm kind of tired of painting trees and flowers… could I paint… you?" he asked, not even waiting for a reply before he clarified extensively. "Paint a picture of you, I mean! Like… would you want to model for a painting? That's… what I meant…"

"Oh, model?" Bumblebee repeated, optics lighting up like a supernova as he repeated the word. Bulkhead felt relief like nothing he'd ever experienced wash over him as the question got exactly the answer he hadn't dared to hope for, enough so that he struggled to stay standing as he sighed. Bumblebee hopped upright and stretched, lean little frame already eager to get moving as he stepped beside his much larger friend. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"Yeah, sure!" Bulkhead said with enthusiasm, trying his hardest not to cry a few happy tears at the turn of events. Moving as fast as he could, he followed Bee to his room, where all of his supplies were waiting for them in the unlikely event this worked out. The big bot had done everything in his power to get all the paint and brushes he would need if Bee said yes, so hopefully he did indeed have enough, or at least what he'd require to get started. He'd gotten so many shades of yellow…

When they arrived to his room, he briefly scolded himself for not fixing it up better, not that Bumblebee ever bothered to clean his own room, but he wanted to be a good host.

Pointing to the smushed couch he sometimes liked to relax on, which was also in a good spot for lighting, he tried to ensure he was calm despite his still fluttering nerves. "You can, uh, pose however you like. How about there?" 

"Sure, sounds fun!" Bumblebee replied, quite enthusiastic as he hopped on over. Not minding that the furniture was beyond lumpy, he began finding a comfortable way for his frame to lay, moving his tiny self about as Bulkhead got everything ready. Trying not to blush at how happy he was, the big bot grabbed a spare canvas and his favorite cans of paint, along with a few brushes in his size. Someday he'd have to properly thank Sari for introducing him to art, and being kind enough to provide tools in his size as well. When his easel was in place, he looked up to see Numb laying himself over the couch and grinning in his usual goofy way. "Paint me like one of your French bots, Bulkhead…"

Even if he hadn't been so distracted by what he was feeling, the big bot would have had no ability to make sense of what he'd just heard. All he could manage was a one word reply of total bafflement. "...What?"

"It's a… a human quote. I don't get it either." Bumblebee mumbled in reply, likely referencing some movie he and Sari had watched together at some point. Not wanting his friend to feel awkward, Bulkhead happily helped the conversation continue, smiling as he grabbed a brush.

"Oh, well um… how about we start small? Just sketches and stuff, you know?" he offered, trying to think of the best way to proceed. It was hard to plan much of anything when he was this happy, especially because he didn't want Bee to know how he felt, in more ways than one. He had to keep going as if this was just a casual thing, and not something that really meant the world to him.

"Works for me, just don't forget to get my good side… which is all of me." Bee said proudly, striking a pose and grinning as he did so. It was a perfectly in character position, so Bulkhead got to work right away, carefully articulating his large digits to control the brush. While small mistakes were just part of the process for painting, he didn't want to make one here. This piece was going to be perfect, so every stroke had to be the same, and thus his digits had an almost vice-like grip. It didn't escape his attention how few bots got to pursue their greatest wish like he was doing now. Keeping his smile to himself, he cast his optics to Bumblebee and back to the canvas, wanting to have the perfect grasp of scale before he began. Having a friend with such particular proportions wasn't going to make this any easier.

Sticking with the core of his muse, he made a few careful strokes to get the basic gist of his friend's pose, hoping to capture both his sense of excitability and his current relaxed mood. It would be hard, but he was more than up for the challenge. This would be worth every last second of work...

"Actually, hang on, my arm looks better like this."

Bumblebee surprised him with the words and the sudden movement he made to match, his arm swinging about to rest almost opposite to its original pose. As he hadn't yet started drawing that particular spot, Bulkhead let it go, having expected a little bit of restlessness. It was also only fair that Bee liked the final result and was comfortable with the process. Getting back to work, the big bot wondered if his friend's face might be a good place to start. His horns certainly added an additional detail for him to take into consideration… Perhaps he'd ask if Bee wanted his face to be more in profile or at an angle. All he wanted was to capture the essence of the bot he was so close to.

Bumblebee coughed, optics looking about bashfully as he blushed and shifted on the couch to move his other arm. It wasn't a big move, but the small bit clearly realized it was inconvenient, and looked guilty for the move. "Need to change this too, it's not working. This look better?"

"Oh uh… yeah!" Bulkhead replied quickly, uncertain how he should respond beyond acceptance as the last thing he wanted was for this to be uncomfortable for either of them. Some small changes would need to be made to what was already on the canvas, but that was hardly a bother. Getting more paint on his brush, he tried to work a little faster as he got the bottom layer established. Not that he didn't trust Bee to keep his word, but the little bot often fidgeted without even meaning to. Sticking out his glossa in concentration, Bulkhead worked fast, using up a fair amount of paint as he got what he presumed to be the core of the piece. Next would come the much tricker details…

Or at least they would have, if he hadn't glanced up to see Bumblebee in a completely different pose and half asleep...

"Bumblebee?" he said on reflex, coughing to try and gain his friend's attention. Startling awake, the little bot looked around in surprise, seeming to have forgotten exactly where he was and what was going on. When recognition dawned on his features, embarrassment wasn't far behind. A light blush lit up his cheeks as he shrunk down on the couch.

"Scrap, sorry, wasn't thinking." he apologized, trying to remember how he had originally been posed and failing to do so. Bulkhead felt a bit of frustration stirring, but he kept it well under wraps. Just because this wasn't going according to plan, didn't mean he was going to give up.

"That's okay! Just… need a new canvas." he said, keeping his smile even if he was a little more flustered. With a little bit of white paint he could salvage the canvas and use it later for something else, plus it wasn't like Sari didn't provide him with plenty of supplies. Getting set up all over again, he looked back to Bumblebee, who was once again settled in what appeared to be his position of choice. Hoping to begin in earnest, he was careful as could be when he broached the question on his mind. "Is that the pose you want?"

"Definitely!" Bumblebee said enthusiastically, giving him hope that he'd be able to paint for real this time. Not wasting even a moment, he painted as fast as he could, glancing back and forth between the painting and his subject to make the process as smooth as possible. It was an effective strategy, as it allowed him to get the outline twice as fast. This time he wanted to fully capture his friend in the picture as he'd been trying from the start. Some part of him just knew it would be worth it, and that they'd both be thankful he put in all this effort.

Or, at least, he thought he knew...

"Actually, sorry about this, but…" Bumblebee was bashful but not especially hesitant as he moved to lay on his side, stretching as he moved into an entirely different position. The poor artist felt his spark drop at the loss of progress all over again, even as his friend tried to cheer them both up by looking as chipper as possible. "That was so much more uncomfortable than I was expecting. Go on!"

Bulkhead didn't say a word as he grabbed another canvas, and did his very best not to look as discouraged as he felt. It didn't seem like this was going to stop any time soon, as much as he wished it would, and that didn't bode well for his wish to get this done. Perhaps he'd been far too hopeful…

Still, he did everything in his power to stay positive and make the painting he'd dreamed of become a reality.

Painting faster than he ever had in his entire life, the big bot ignored the imperfections that came from moving so rapidly, setting his jaw tight as little flecks of paint spattered across the canvas. At this point, such little things hardly seemed to mind. What really mattered was getting this done. A familiar form began to take recognizable shape on the canvas, and the artist started to plan ahead for his next move from then on. Shading would come after these little details, which he'd be able to put together thanks to having a lot of his friend's appearance memorized. Hope blossomed in his spark as he finally saw Bumblebee in the picture he was painting.

Getting so close to what he wanted made seeing a repeat of what had happened before hurt more than it should have.

Catching himself, Bumblebee blushed and shrunk down on the spot, smiling bashfully in apology for his unintentional movement. It really wasn't something he was doing on purpose; he wanted to see his friend happy! Sitting still just didn't work for him. Seeing Bulkhead look hurt, however, made him feel especially bad for the mistake.

"I don't think this is a good idea." Bulkhead said with a sigh, putting yet another canvas to the side and looking quite deflated as he did so. There wasn't anything he could think to do that might change this, and he was ready to just throw in the towel. Perhaps this was just the one thing he wasn't meant to paint.

"Aw come on, why not?" Bumblebee pressed, aware of the answer but hoping there was something he could do to fix it. Staying still just wasn't in his programming, but perhaps… he could get some tape? That wasn't realistic, but he wanted to try something to make up for this. Bulkhead only sighed again.

"You won't stay still?" he said simply, frustrated but not antagonistic in his summation. It was something neither of them could change, and that left both more than a little helpless.

"I…" Bumblebee stuttered off, tapping his digits together as he saw his friend get even more sad. Unable to help getting a little defensive, he got up from the couch, throwing up his arms as the big bot cleaned up some of the mess. "Come on, Bulk! You know me! Staying still isn't my thing, and I can't force that!"

"Well yeah, but… couldn't you just stay mostly still?" Bulkhead asked, still not ready to just give up all at once. Even if he had no idea how to fix things or make it work, he wanted this painting too much to just give up, no matter how many canvases it took. All he needed was a little bit more time than he had been getting. His determination must have shown, because Bumblebee furrowed his brow ridges in consideration.

"I… I can try! I…" he faded off as the pressure weighed on him, and thankfully his friend caught that quickly. To be clear; he wanted this a lot, but he could never want anything badly enough to make Bumblebee uncomfortable. Perhaps it was best they rested a bit, to restore their patience and approach this with clearer heads. He certainly needed a minute to relax from all this frustration...

"How about a break? We've been trying for a while, maybe a bit of down time will help." he proposed, already feeling a little better at the prospect of cooling down. Bumblebee shared the sentiment straight away, visibly relaxing on the spot and letting out a tiny sigh of his own. 

"Great idea Bulk! Let me just grab something…" he said happily, darting off and leaving the big bot alone with his supplies. Deciding to clean a bit to ease his mind, Bulkhead sorted the discarded canvases, hoping that he could paint over the unusable pictures with some white and reuse them. Seeing how much and how little progress he'd made at the same time made him wonder how he might improve on their next attempt. Nothing was coming to mind just yet, but that didn't mean he had lost hope. There had to be something on this planet that would motivate Bee to stay still, and by Primus he would find it!

As he was wiping up some paint that had managed to drip onto the floor, Bumblebee quite literally skidded back into the room, coming to a dead stop after running at full tilt. 

"I'm back! Just wanted to grab my game!" the little bot declared happily, waving the device about as he went to sit back on the smushed couch. The game had been a gift from Sari as well; some kind of earth console that had been sized up a few times over to better fit the servos of a Cybertronian. Smiling in acknowledgement, the big bot nodded as he went back to cleaning. Digital music met his audials as his friend started up the system and began to play, reclining on the couch as he settled in for a much needed break. Bulkhead had only had middling success with the games popular on earth, owed in large part to his size, but he was at least happy his friend could have some much needed fun with them. 

When the floor was finally cleaned up, he took stock of his slightly diminished inventory. There was still plenty of paint, and more than a few canvases, but if they continued at their current pace… He'd have to figure out a strategy before they tried this again, because otherwise this just wasn't going to work. Looking up at Bumblebee, he briefly considered proposing that they try this another day before his thoughts were systematically interrupted. 

Laying on his back over the pile of stuffing that had once been a couch, the small mech was entirely engrossed in his digital world, optics focused only on the screen as his digits rapidly tapped away on the controls. Other than the occasional shift of his expression, he was entirely motionless. It took Bulkhead a moment to process what he was seeing. Bumblebee was so rarely still, and never for this length of time… He didn't need to think much before he was reacting the only way he could.

Moving as silently as a mech of his size was able to, he grabbed what he needed, gathering his paints around himself as he got a fresh canvas and sat down before his easel. He couldn't have asked for a better setup; the pose, the lighting, it was all perfect. It was almost too much to hope this was real. Considering how many false starts he'd had, most could probably understand why he felt that way.

Daring to take his time, the big bot made every brush stroke count, trying to think of all the reasons he liked Bee so much as he made each one. His friend was confident, energetic, brave… All those thoughts motivated him every second he worked, and the results were soon apparent. The form of Bumblebee began to take shape rather quickly, coming together far more smoothly thanks to how relaxed he was. A base layer was ready to go in what felt like only a few minutes.

Oblivious to everything, Bumblebee kept right on playing, occasionally sticking his glossa out as he did so. Bulkhead contemplated including that detail in the piece, but ultimately decided against it. This was going to be a somewhat more dignified painting than that. 

When the time came to add lighting, he was almost over the moon, but he kept all the excitement to himself. Colors mixed together beautifully on his palette, forming the light and dark shades to the vibrant yellows and deep blacks that made up his friend's paint job. It was far more satisfying than painting even the most beautiful landscape he'd ever seen. Perhaps he was just a little biased on that front, but he did believe that painting things you truly cared about just brought them to life. One only had to glance at this piece to understand how much this bot meant to him.

It almost seemed like he was dreaming when each and every glance revealed Bumblebee to be sitting perfectly still, without a hint of movement beyond the minor. If this did turn out to be a dream, he'd at least be happy it was going so well. Fate had truly designed the perfect setup for them to finally get this done without any stress for either individual. 

Everything came together with what felt like only a few of the most well done strokes he'd ever painted. At long last, the bot he'd wanted to paint so badly had been captured on canvas! It was so exciting he couldn't hold back an exclamation as he set his brush down theatrically.

"Done!"

"Huh?!" Bumblebee gasped, half jumping on the spot as his game nearly flew from his servos. Looking about in a daze, he put the pieces together when he saw his friend, at which point guilt crossed his features. Time had slipped away from him even more so than it had for the very busy Bulkhead. "What? I… oh, Bulk! I didn't mean to get distracted! You could have stopped me earlier, I wouldn't have minded."

Waving off the appreciated but unnecessary apology, the big bot only smiled and wiped some paint from his servos, rising from his chair to puff his chest out with pride. "That's okay, I'm already finished."

"How?" the little bot gasped in awe, checking his internal chronometer to see just how long he'd been wrapped up in his game. It had only felt like a few minutes, but this wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten lost in a video game.

"Well, you were pretty content playing your game, so…" Bulkhead allowed his friend to put the rest of the pieces together, and in no time understanding dawned on the little mech. 

"Oh, I gotcha!" Bumblebee replied happily, quite relieved to have not held them up. If playing video games was what it had taken to make his friend happy, then he was quite fine with that. All he wanted was to get a look at the results, which he was certain would be incredible. "Here, let me see!"

Feeling a bit of shyness amongst his pride, Bulkhead handed over the canvas, careful to avoid the still drying paint.

"This is amazing!" Bumblebee proclaimed without hesitation, trying to be delicate even as he felt a surge of excitement upon beholding the painting. Of course he knew his friend had talent, but this was incredible! "Look at me, I look even better than usual!"

Bulkhead looked down to the floor and shuffled his pedes, doing his best to hide the blush creeping along his cheeks. "Well, I had a pretty great model."

"That's gonna sell fast, Bulkhead. No doubt about it." Bumblebee praised as he gave the painting back, confident in what he was saying. It didn't hurt that he was a good looking bot, but his friend had really done an especially good job on this one, and he was sure it would be bought up in no time. Taking the piece, the big bot smiled softly as he beheld it again. It had taken a lot of courage for him to get this, and he was quite proud of himself for that. As such, he held the painting very near and dear to his spark.

"Maybe, but… I think I'm gonna keep it, actually." he said softly, wanting to see it every day. There was a perfect place for it where he could do just that, not that he would say where that was. Bumblebee didn't mind the decision in the slightest.

However, when the little bot ducked in his friend's room later to pick up a borrowed item, he learned the true value of the painting to Bulkhead. On a wall reserved for only his most precious of works, the portrait sat high in a position of honor. Usually unable to say everything that came to mind due to overwhelming volume, Bee had been rendered speechless by the sight. Only a soft smile revealed how touched he was by the gesture. 

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 11 - De Orfeo Records

Summary: Sunset Cure AU, Willex, is there a chance?, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Reggie and Carlos were running around in the middle of taking down equipment after their latest gig. Luke shook his head as he wrapped cords over his arm and placed them in a storage box. Alex, however, was nervously trying not to get run into as he carried various pieces of his drum set out and handed them to Bobby in the back of the van. He could forgive Reggie not really helping out since he was taking responsibility for the kid, but also hadn’t anticipated that their energies combined would put him more on edge.

As he went inside to grab the last piece of his set, he found that Reggie had taken his flannel and tied it around his neck like a cape, with Carlos wearing his leather jacket in a similar fashion. They approached Bobby, who immediately joined their game and they pretended to battle each other. By the time Alex had finished getting his whole set in the van, they were playing out a dramatic victory over defeating Bobby.

“Guys, this is great, but we really should finish packing up,” Alex said, although he was smiling from the entertainment.

“I guess you’re the next bad guy we fight,” Carlos said in a mock-deep voice.

“We can schedule it later, Robin,” Alex teased.

“Oh, no, he’s Batman,” Reggie corrected. “I’m Robin!” He put his fists on his hips in a proud superhero pose.

A big SHHHHHH came from Luke and they all looked over at him to see what was up. He was far off by the venue office, holding a phone to his ear and writing onto a notepad. His eyes were wide with excitement, and his energy was only held back by the other hand tapping against the paper. The boys watched as his smile grew bigger and he said goodbye, barely putting the phone back in place properly.

“YEEESS!!” he cried, raising his fists into the air in celebration. They all came running toward him to see what had happened.

“Boys, we’ve got good news!” Luke told them. Looking on in anticipation, Alex gripped his fanny pack tightly. “One of the record execs that came tonight is offering for us to sign onto their label and put out some songs! He even heard our demo!”

Everyone celebrated, jumping up and down and high-fiving each other. Reggie let Carlos climb onto him in a piggyback and they both yelled triumphantly. Luke pulled Alex into a bro hug, then Bobby. Alex held his arms up and placed his hands on top of his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Euphoria filled his head like helium and he went to double-high-five Carlos, who was still perched on Reggie’s back.

“So what else did they say?” Bobby asked, still smiling.

Luke had to shake off some more excitement before he could explain the rest.

“Ahhh, so he said we could meet in a few days to discuss business and contracts and such, let us get a look at the studio and stuff. I got all his contact information and he’s totally excited to get us on. We’re moving on up boys!”

The celebration continued, and their renewed energy caused the rest of the take-down to go by much faster. They were still riding the high as they drove home. Alex listened to Luke talk about which songs they would want to record first and where they would land on the charts. He remembered that feeling he had back at the Pearl during their sound check. Doing that? For real and not just dreaming and hoping about it? They hadn’t made it just yet, but this was a change he could be excited for.

Reggie had been staying with Carlos, which the rest of the boys figured was a good excuse to not stay home. As Bobby pulled up to the house, he and Luke began climbing out of the van. Carlos and Reggie were already inside.

“Uh, guys?” Alex said, still in the back of the van. They all turned back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” Luke gestured like oh-silly-me. “We all decided to stay here for the night. It’s just a nice change from the garage and Julie’s aunt has lots of leftovers that need to be eaten so…”

“So...I’m grounded,” Alex reminded, raising his eyebrows. His parents hadn’t been happy about him sneaking out to the pier the other night.

“Screw your old man, Alex,” Bobby said.

“Yeah, he can eat my shorts if he tries to do anything about it,” Luke added.

Alex took a moment to think. Disobeying wasn’t going to do anything for or against him at this point - he kept anything truly important to him out of his parents’ reach and since he’d gotten the punching bag he could actually contend with their tempers. They couldn’t punish him in a way that mattered.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” he said finally, following them into the house.

They found Reggie and Carlos already raiding the kitchen.

“Alex, you’re staying too?” Reggie said when he saw them enter.

“Yes!” Carlos cried, pumping his fist. “You get to make popcorn. Tonight, the Empire Strikes Back!”

“Oh yeah, baby!” Reggie responded as the rest of the boys began following orders from Carlos. Alex wasn’t crazy about Star Wars, but eh….young Mark Hamill was hot so he didn’t mind too much. He was sure most of them would fall asleep during the movie anyway.

A couple hours later it turned out he was right. Carlos was slumped on the floor leaning back against the chair Luke was sitting in, hand still in the bowl of popcorn. Luke was leaning on his hand, breathing soundly. Alex had watched earlier as Bobby’s head flopped onto Reggie’s shoulder and the flustered look that had overcome Reggie’s face, and it was too good not to smile at. Once the VCR began automatically rewinding the movie, Alex shut off the TV.

He stared at the ceiling as he pulled the handle on the La-Z-Boy he was in and reclined into a somewhat comfortable position. Even now, weeks later after meeting for only a day, the first thing he wished he could do was tell Willie the news about the record label. He probably would have been just as ecstatic as the rest of them, if not more. Victoria would be back soon and hopefully have some news. He guessed it didn’t matter if he’d been right about the missing kid, but maybe just knowing if she got to talk with Willie would be enough.

The memory of soft brown eyes still rose in his mind. He’d been doing his best to keep that moment cemented in his brain because he’d noticed it helped him sleep. It was funny because he’d done the same thing with the guys, but staring into Willie’s eyes had been an entirely different experience. Alex wished he had the proper words to describe it, but the best he could do was marvel. Willie was clearly unaware of the strength he held, and it made Alex want to bring that out with his entire being. If he ever did get the chance, that would be something worth looking forward to.

Victoria didn’t arrive until the afternoon the next day. Since Alex felt that she had gone because of him, he made everyone else clean her house as well as they could. No traces of food on the floor, no messy beds, and the kitchen was cleaner than when they had found it. As she came back into the house, she put a hand over her heart.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “I should take trips like this more often if you boys are this good!”

“Yes, tía, please, please, please let them babysit me again! Pleeeeaaassee!” Carlos begged with his hands pressed together.

“Ay, sobrino, no me quieres?” she shook her head.

“No, I do!” Carlos tried to recover. “But they’re fun!”

As if to make a point, Reggie rubbed a hand on Carlos’ head.

“It’s okay little dude, we’ll be back.”

Victoria pulled her wallet out of her purse.

“Well, you boys took very good care of him and I promised I would pay you, so here you go.” She handed each of them a generous amount of cash. Luke, Reggie and Bobby all whooped as they thanked her and headed to the van. Alex held back with anticipation. Victoria looked at him seriously.

“There was no connection,” she told him before he asked. “His guardian explained everything to me, and there was nothing else to go on. I wanted to know because I thought I could solve an old case, but I had to let it go.”

“Well, did you get to talk to him?” Alex tried not to sound too urgent.

“You mean Willie? No, I never saw him. After talking with his guardian I didn’t need to.”

Bowing his head, Alex made himself swallow his other questions. She had at least tried.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry if it was inconvenient.”

“I chose to go, don’t worry about it,” she assured.

Nodding and saying thanks one more time, Alex hurried out after the rest of his friends.

A few days later, the boys slammed the doors of the van shut as they looked up at the building before them. It was so plain and simple on the outside; they never would’ve guessed there was a studio there. It was likely they had driven past it many times on the way to a gig. Pushing through the door, they all looked at the logo in neon lights on the wall: De Orfeo Records.

Collectively, the boys took in awed breaths at the reality of where they were standing. This was too good to believe. Alex took in the scene, trying to imagine this being a place he came to regularly. Could he ever get used to it, or get over the sheer excitement of just being there? Luke patted him on the back, desperately trying to contain himself. They wandered through the halls a little bit until they came to a room where the door was sitting open.

“Oh, boys!” A man called as they almost walked past it. “In here!”

As they all shuffled in, the man shook their hands and pointed them to a couch where they could sit. Alex nervously stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he took a seat. The man across from them was dressed surprisingly casually, if not with obvious expensive taste. He still had sunglasses on, but their yellow tint was clearly not for actual UV protection.

“Nice to meet all of you,” he was saying. “My name is Alan, I’m one of the producers here at De Orfeo. Which one of you did I talk to on the phone?”

Luke raised his hand.

“That was me,” he said, already gushing with excitement. “How’d you hear about us, anyway?”

Alan didn’t answer, but instead looked up at the doorway as someone else came in.

“Hello boys!” Caleb Covington entered, his charismatic smile spread wide across his face. “So nice to see you again.”

Alex’s heart rate immediately sped up and he clenched his hands inside his pockets. How could it be? He thought his last chance to reach out to Willie was gone and seeing Caleb brought back everything he hadn’t been able to ask Julie’s aunt. All the guys were happy to recognize him.

“I won’t be staying for the negotiations,” Caleb said. “but I wanted to properly introduce myself as the owner of this label. I want to assure you boys the best experience as newcomers in the industry. Let any nerves that still linger walk right out the door.” His eyes landed on Alex for a moment, and it felt purposeful. “Take it away, Alan.”

Listening to the producer’s pitch was difficult to focus on now, and Alex had to fight hard against his brain latching onto the new hopes that had arisen. He was thankful that when paperwork came out, Bobby was mindful enough to have them read through it. It was taking too long, though, and Alex was already wishing he had his drumsticks in hand to help pass the time. Reggie had so many questions, and Luke had trouble understanding numerous words - at least that kept Alex occupied because he could be helpful in that. A good hour had passed going over all the information.

“This looks great!” Luke said finally. “How are we feelin’ boys?”

Each of them nodded and looked around at each other, confirming that they all agreed on every settlement. Luke grabbed a pen and pulled his copy of the contract toward him, pausing momentarily to drink in what was happening. Then he signed his name in giant letters. Alex, Bobby, and Reggie followed suit, and Alex could feel a weird tingle rush through his hand as he made the final flourish with his pen. They were all in now.

As the band began celebrating, Caleb knocked on the doorframe.

“If it’s alright with you boys, I wanted to speak with Alex privately for a moment,” Caleb said, gesturing for Alex to follow him outside the room.

His curiosity was at the point of overflowing, and he went out trying to control his trembling hands. Maybe Caleb had talked to Willie after all. This could be his way to bridge that gap and he wouldn’t have to live off of just memories.

Everyone else was still going nuts over getting the contracts signed back in the room. Standing in the lobby, Caleb was looking at him seriously, maybe even pitifully. It quickly drained the exhilaration in Alex’s chest.

“I can tell you’ve been wanting to ask me some questions,” he began. “But before you do, I thought it was best to inform you of some important details first.”

Alex looked up at him with his hands back in his pockets and gulped. Why was his heartbeat suddenly so loud? He knew Caleb couldn’t actually hear it, but it still embarrassed him. His mouth began to go dry.

Caleb furrowed his brow, as if what he was about to say wasn’t easy to get out. He bowed his head and took a breath before looking at Alex again.

“Willie,” he started. Then he paused. “Is dead.”

The trembling in Alex’s hands stopped.

He stared at Caleb, as if he could pull off the serious expression and find a joking smile underneath. It was a few moments before he remembered to breathe in, and blinking seemed to cut that moment into two as if the first one wasn’t real.

“No, no, that can’t - ” he heard the words spill out of his mouth. Why was his body so tense and ready to defend itself? His cheeks felt hot.

“I know the news is hard,” Caleb interrupted, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I can hardly bear it myself. There was an electrical fire. He didn’t make it out.”

Alex could only shake his head. Caleb’s expression wasn’t changing and for some reason it was the most infuriating sight. He could punch that face and make him bleed if he really wanted to. The adrenaline was already rushing to his fist.

“There has to be a mistake,” he said, chuckling darkly.

“There is no mistake,” Caleb told him firmly.

How was the man so calm? How could he say those words out loud and not immediately crumble to the earth? How could he have worn such a large smile earlier?

“I know you two weren’t friends for long, but he made it clear you were important to him.”

The words came through as if from a tiny speaker. They’d only gotten one day and it wasn’t enough. Willie couldn’t go like that, he simply couldn’t - not when Alex needed to know if they could’ve ever had something real. He still wanted to know so many things about him and look into those brown eyes and soften the hard edges on them. He needed to - 

He was crying. On his hands and knees, trying to get the dark shadow that had grown inside his chest to come out. It made him choke. Caleb had apparently left him alone, unable to console him, and he felt hands on his back and shoulders as he fought to properly breathe. Luke was knelt down before him, mouth hanging open in want of words but not able to form any. Bobby was gripping his hand and supporting him as he and Reggie pulled him up onto his feet.

“We need to get him in the van,” one of them was saying.

Any movement from there was not his own. All three boys were trying their hardest to help the tallest member of their band out of the building. Everything was numb - like a machine that had broken down after being run too hard.

The brown eyes faded into darkness, murky and thick. There was no air in his lungs to scream into that dark, no tie-dye, no rolling of wheels on the sidewalk, no ‘ribbit’, no more wondering and hoping.

Dead quiet. That was all.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from these)

“Impressive.” Hoshiguma smirked, deflecting the strike of a blade. “Is this the best the Radiant Knight can do, though?”

“In fairness, you’ve yet to land a solid blow on me, either. Two immovable objects, destined to clash until the end of time...” Nearl was cut short as she had to grit her teeth in the face of another shield-spin from the Oni- 

A buzzer sounded, and the two immediately pulled back. “Break time!” Hoshi announced, walking back to the bench and grabbing her towel.

“It’s very fortunate we’re fighting for the same side, Hoshi.” The Kuranta started shedding the upper portion of her armor to cool off faster. “I can’t imagine standing against you for long in a fair fight.”

“Thanks. Frankly, you’re not too bad yourself; I chalk it up to going easy on me, honestly.” She grabbed a water bottle from under her and launched the cap to the ceiling with her thumb.

Nearl stifled a chuckle. “Yes, because I would certainly think to go easy on someone at your level.”

“Heh. Flattery won’t get you out of the next set.” Hoshiguma sighed. “Still, it’s good to hear I’m doing my job as your trainer and making you work.”

“That you certainly do.” There was a brief silence as they both focused on rehydrating.

A focus Hoshi accidentally shattered on her end when she caught her eyes wandering. “Sorry.”

“Hmm?” She hadn’t noticed. “Did you do something you needed to apologize for?”

“Not to you, no. Been trying to control myself a bit more for my girlfriend.”

...Okay, now the Kuranta was truly lost. “Control yourself? In what sense?”

“You really didn’t notice? I thought an Oni’s stare was supposed to do something to people.” She sighed. “Your breastplate does a better job than I thought of covering you.”

“Oh, I see. It does, doesn’t it?”

Hoshi shook her head. “Not even phased, huh?”

“We all have our weaknesses.” Nearl smiled. “Which one?”

“Eh? My weakness?” The Oni had been just about to take a swig.

“You girlfriend. I know it’s someone from Lungmen, but I don’t know if it’s Ch’en or Swire.”

Hoshiguma crushed the bottle in her hand as she let out a hearty laugh. “You think me and Ch’en would be a couple? OH, that’s a good one...Yeah, I’m dating Swire now.”

“I’m happy for you. We should do a double-date some time; I’ve been meaning to introduce Shining to you, but our mission schedules have been at odds since the Contingency Contracts started up again.” The Kuranta grabbed another water. “Is she as soft as she looks?”

“She’s got a temper, but nothing I can’t handle. The other day, we got into a fight over what to watch on her TV, and she did this cute little roar like she was trying to be a tiger or something. Never given up an argument so damn quick in my life.”

Nearl giggled. “I meant her fur, actually, but that’s adorable. Shining has never gotten angry with me, but there was at least one point where she and I disagreed about which of the Montoya sisters wrote the better romance trilogy, and seeing her blush does things to my heart I didn’t know it was capable of until then.”

“You both read Montoya? Swire’s trying to get me to read those, but you know as well as anyone I like my books like my movies - less talking, more explosions.” Hoshi launched a bottle cap into the opposite wall this time; it left a dent in the mat. “She likes FEater’s stuff, though, so most of the time we can compromise there. You ever try acting out something from those books?”

“Um...” It was one thing to not expect the question, and another thing entirely to not expect the answer you had. The Kuranta was in the latter position.

Which the Oni immediately picked up on. “I’ll take that as a yes. Did it work out?”

“It did...Almost a little too well.” There’d been complaints about their light shining through minute cracks in the tiles, including in the room above, while they were in a hotel in Siesta. “Has Swire ever suggested something like that?”

“Nah, she’s not the suggesting type; I came home one day, she told me what was gonna happen, and I played along. Totally worth it.”

Nearl blinked. “You let her give you orders?”

“She’s cute when she’s being a stuck-up little princess,” Hoshi admitted. “Like, I know if I wanted to, I could tell her no and she couldn’t do anything about it, but why would I?”

“Oh, I agree, I simply didn’t expect you to be a...”

The Oni winked at her. “A bottom?”

“I suppose that’s the proper term.” The Kuranta scratched behind her lower ear. “Your general demeanor paints a very different picture of you than you’re describing.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” She chuckled at the look that earned her.

The knight sighed, shaking her head. “I wonder what Shining would think if I told her. She’s a very understanding woman, and we’ve been friends for long enough she’d likely recognize my intent, but-”

“It’s not like she has to know,” Hoshiguma interjected. Nearl went quiet. “Sorry.”

“Let’s not make that an option,” the Kuranta asserted.

A nod. “Yeah, I getcha. Well, now that I’ve made an ass of myself, how about we get back to sparring?”

“If you’re ready.” She was glowing now, ever-so-slightly. “Hopefully you can put your shame to use.”

“Ooh, I really did hit a nerve, then. Good; use that anger, and you might leave a scratch this time.”

Nearl readied her sword, took a brief moment to analyze her target, and then charged. Her Oni friend had hell to pay for reminding her of those feelings...

[blankblankityblank]

Just, don’t wake up

Hi everyone! This is my fic for the @starkerkink exchange, dedicated to @vaguekiwi! I really hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

High school AU, with superpowers.

Tony’s home life has never been amazing, but one night, it’s just too much for him. He flies blindly to the first destination he can think of in his battered suit, holding his breath when he realises exactly who’s house he’s flown to. He doubts this evening will be normal, especially when he realises there’s only one bed.

Warnings: Masturbation, Flogging, Name-calling, Restraints, slightly dub-con, both 17. Check ao3 for further warnings!

Read on ao3!

Tony arrived late to class, as usual. Peter sighed, the usual thought flitting through his head: How does he always manage to arrive late, even with a full body suit that flies?

The teacher for their class, AP Bio, glanced at Tony unimpressed but unsurprised-this was a regular occurrence, and it showed.

Tony waltzed to his seat with the usual I-really-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, plonking down and prompt executing a yawn. Peter rolled his eyes; did he always have that look on his hot face? How did he even get into AP Bio when he didn’t even pay attention? Oh yeah, that’s right-Howard Stark’s son, prodigy at 4, bla bla bla. Peter needed a break from the constant ‘Tony Stark made his own suit’ fawning that half the girls, and guys, constantly exhibited. Like yeah, big deal-was anyone gonna talk about Peter’s amazing skills to do with web fluid? Or crafting his own suits, which, well, didn’t always go particularly well?

“And today, we will be taking a bit of an off-topic turn into some neurobiology! Chemicals and hormones produced by the brain!” The teacher sang, trying to mask her own boredom with the unresponsive class, “who can tell me what the four main hormones to do with happiness contain?”

Peter shot his hand up, excited that he for once knew the answer to the question before smart-ass Tony.

“The four main chemicals are endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, often abbreviated as D.O.S.E,” Peter stated. Tony slowly turned around in his chair, and glared at him. Peter just smirked. ‘One day,’ he mouthed at the growingly frustrated classmate.

“Very good! Can someone tell me what each of these hormones’ functions are?” Their teacher again asked. Peter’s hand shot up for the second time, his mouth forming a smirk in sync.

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

“Well well well, if it isn’t smart-ass Parker in a sticky situation?” Tony purred, his smooth voice richoeing off of the poorly-designed science lab. Peter sighed, closing his eyes in preparation before facing the problem.

“Does it look like I don’t know what I’m doing? Wouldn’t wanna steal your thunder now, would I?” He snarked back, trying to stir his web fluid in peace. The teacher had allowed his class 15 minutes of time to work on their various powers, any tweaks or fixes being attended to. Tony had apparently finished oiling up his suit, but Peter had no such privilege.

Tony flicked the back of Peter’s head as he strutted away, going over to talk to Steve and Bucky. Goddamned overpowered mutants. Ok, so maybe Peter was a tiny bit jealous of their friendship, but that was his business.

He dispensed the web fluid with a sigh, getting ready to pack up and head back to his apartment, and hopefully blow off some steam with a Star Wars movie night. He smiled softly to himself; maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all. He could chill with may, have some hot chocolate, quote every line of Empire Strikes Back because he totally doesn’t know it word for word.

The bell rang, immediately followed by a cacophony of bags zipping, several whirring sounds as various students fired up their ride home. Peter ducked his head down, knowing his power wasn’t as rich or powerful as his classmates’ privileged ones. And they didn’t even know it, how lucky they were. They’d never know what it’s like to be born with stickiness and a general strength upgrade. No super-advanced knowledge of tech, engineering, how to fly, being able to fly...everything that separated him from the rest of his peers.

Peter swung his backpack over his shoulder, cursing as his AP Bio textbook dropped onto the ground, setting off a too-loud thump on the concrete floor. A few heads swivelled in his direction, and Peter flushed as he hurriedly picked the offending book up, and returned it to its rightful place. Face still hot, he all but rushed out of the classroom, eager to change into his suit and get this day over with.

“Hey! Parker! Wait up, for fuck’s sake. You dropped two books, not one, you blind-ass bat,” Tony hollered, his feet slapping against the linoleum. Peter grabbed the exercise book from Tony’s offering hand, not dignifying the teen with a response. Ok, so maybe it was a bit harsh. But he had to stay ice-cold around Tony; if it got out Parker had a crush, it would not go down well. At. All.

“You’re not even gonna say thanks?” Tony spluttered in disbelief, hand still outstretched.

“Nope,” Peter replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Pretty sure I deserve some recognition, I could have just left that book on the floor for some other snotty-nosed kid to find,” Tony said indignantly, hand returned to his side.

“Well then don’t do it next time. I don’t give a shit, Stark,” Peter fired back, attempting to quell his progressingly noticeable butterflies.

Tony opened his mouth in a retort, but instead opted for an eye roll and spun on his heel. Probably to get back to his fancy 5 star penthouse, Peter thought bitterly. He headed to the bathrooms, diligently fighting his instinct to catch a glance of that ass. God, he was so, so gone.

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

Peter entered his apartment silently, not wanting to disturb May. He kicked off his shoes, deflating his suit and carrying the rest of his belongings to his room. Or, his cave, as May liked to call it. The 16 year old dungeon was another favourite of hers.

“May? ‘M home..” He trailed off when the bright Post-it note caught his eye. He frowned, peeling it off the bench and reading the bubbly handwriting. ‘Picked up an extra shift, be home tomorrow at 7! Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight kiddo xx’ Well. He could kiss his plans of venting to may goodbye, it seemed. Hot chocolate and a movie night still lifted his hopes, albeit less enthusiastic with no one to share it with now. The teen hummed the Star Wars theme song as he boiled the water and got his hot chocolate ready. He finished his task from earlier, dumping his stuff in an impossibly messy room that cleaning seemed impossible. There were things he didn’t want to uncover by doing so.

The TV flickered to life, selecting the chosen movie as directed by Peter. He sipped on his hot chocolate, swearing softly when the liquid burnt his tongue. It’d probably need to cool, considering the loss of feeling in his taste buds. The TV screen suddenly paused the movie, indicating the buffering icon as the infuriatingly slow loading bar popped up.

“For fucks’ sake…” Peter muttered, deciding to take a quick shower to pass the time. He didn’t bother getting clothes, seeing as he was the only one home. He padded to the bathroom, turning the shower on and watching as the water slowly began to produce steam. He then stripped, chucking his clothes into the overflowing hamper and stepping into the soothing water. He let it wash over him, adjusting himself to the temperature as he scrubbed himself with vanilla soap, the day’s events flicking hazily through his mind.

The teen looked down, noticing his growing hard-on. Maybe his thoughts about Tony had taken a...darker turn. He palmed himself half-heartedly, almost jolting when the spark of arousal ran through his body. He groaned softly to himself, putting more energy into pumping his hard on. His precum provided lubricant, his hand going up and down faster and faster until he was right on the edge and it felt so good, and-

Peter pulled his hand off, letting his erect cock bob helplessly in the air. He was breathing hard, not having reached his orgasm. It just...it didn’t feel right. He rubbed soap on his body again, his dick slowly returning to it’s normal size.

The shower came to a close after 15 minutes of staring at the wall, he may or may not have been thinking about a certain black head of hair, brown eyes flecked with gold, the body of a Greek god...maybe he lost track of time, but it was time well spent in Peter’s opinion. He towelled himself off with less energy, suddenly losing the motivation to actually dry himself off-probably because all his brain power was used trying to figure out a certain someone’s personality.

He plopped onto his nest of blankets and pillows, smiling when he saw the movie was ready to watch again. He hit play, content with the world at last.

That is, until some fucking idiot banged, not knocked, banged, on Peter’s door. He resolutely ignored it, turning the volume of the TV to max. Until, the banging didn’t stop. It just kept going. And going. And going-

“This better be a real good fucking reason,” Peter snarled, pausing his movie with more force than he probably needed to, and he stomped to the door.

The assault on the door didn’t stop, even when Peter yelled ‘Coming!’ to try and ease the banging. It did not succeed. He swung open the door, fuming, the epitome of annoyance as expressed on his face. He was ready to give this newcomer a piece of his mind, what, interrupting his fucking movie night, the audacity-

The words died in his throat as he looked up to launch a deadly glare, only to be met with chocolate brown eyes, flecked with gold, a soft pink cupid’s bow, the presence of stubble beginning to form a goatee, and oh wait, he’s seen this before, wait a minute-

“Tony?” He spluttered, taking a step back as he took in the scene before him. Tony, in a banged up suit he probably used as his transportation, his hand poised to bang at the door again. Tony’s expression mirrored Peter’s, a mixture of shock and confusion. Unlike Peter’s, Tony’s cleared quickly, and formed a new expression-one of almost desperation.

“Look, Parker, I’m sorry alright? I just...I need somewhere to stay tonight,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “forget it. I knew it was stupid to come, sorry for wasting your time I guess,” he muttered, already pivoting on his heel. Without his conscious consent, Peter grabbed Tony’s arm as he turned away. They both froze, neither knowing what Peter did.

“Wait, I...you can stay, Tony. You can come in, I just was watching Empire Strikes Back,” Peter ranted, gently tugging Tony inside. The latter seemed to be in a state of shock, obviously not expecting the positive response.

“Empire Strikes Back? You would be watching that, of all movies,” Tony snarked, recovering quickly from his bout of shock.

“You’re the guest, at least try to be nice,” Peter countered, blushing at the tips of his ears from embarrassment. He huffed, flopping onto his comfortable collection of pillows. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Tony, who looked a little out of place with his scratched suit. Peter was curious, but didn’t pry-there was obviously something that caused Tony to come in so suddenly.

“Being nice? To Parker? Talk to me when you have an achievable goal,” Tony grumbled, walking around to tour Peter’s apartment. Peter hoped it would be up to his standards. Wait, no he didn’t, Tony’s standards didn’t matter to him. At all.

Peter resumed his movie, soon becoming engrossed in the iconic plotline that he’d seen hundreds of times before, yet it never failed to make him excited. Tony watched his classmate from the shadows, the smile on Peter’s face contagious. His auburn curls, sharp jawline...Picture perfect Tony mused, as the lights from the movie danced across Peter’s angelic features. Tony shook his head, afraid of getting caught in the act-someone that beautiful would never return his feelings.

The depressing thought prompted Tony to emerge from the shadows, gliding over to where Peter was laying down and slumped nearby, resigning himself to the fact he’d have to watch this nerd movie. His suit whirred in the corner, fixing its own malfunctions as Tony had programmed it to.

“I don’t even know what the fuck is going on, Parker,” Tony muttered, the movie’s plot confusing him due to the lack of knowledge in previous films.

Peter just smiled, deciding it would take too long to explain the plot. Tony saw this, and a small smile spread across his face, too. It was nice to have a friend that just accepted you into their home, even if you had no explanation. Well, he couldn’t really tell the boy his explanation. Home was...a bit hard to go to at the moment, not that he’d ever tell Parker. He glanced at the serene expression on Peter’s face again, taking in the pure joy as he watched his seemingly favourite movie. Yeah, he was not gonna spoil that expression. Not ever.

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

The movie’s credits rolled, signifying the end of the movie night. Tony softly blew out through his nose, wondering if it would be overstepping to stay the night. Before he could dig a hole of despair within himself, Peter noticed his obvious inner battle. Deciding to put the rivalry behind him for now, he reached out to Tony, gently touching his arm and effectively grabbing his attention.

“We should head to bed...if you’re ok with that,” Peter murmured, gently tugging Tony’s arm as he stood up.

Tony sucked in a breath at sparks of pleasure that rippled through him as Peter’s hand lingered. He got to his feet, following Peter through the apartment, taking in the few decorations and pictures. He paused at an old picture of an obviously much younger picture of Peter, sitting on a man’s shoulders. He looked so...well, happy. Tony frowned; what had happened? Not wanting to intrude, he tucked the question away for later, and hurried to catch up with Peter.

“So, this is it. The humble abode, I guess,” Peter chuckled nervously, giving a dramatic wave with his hands. Tony looked around, taking in the worn twin bed, well-read books mounted on shelves that looked as if they could fall at any minute, the stained dresser, obviously the victim of many late-night hot chocolate spills. Tony could feel a slight smile tugging at his lips-this felt like Peter.

“Humble, huh. Didn’t know you were a Potter fan,” Tony smirked, gesturing at the aforementioned books. A red blush tinted the teen’s cheeks as he rushed to defend himself.

“I’ll have you know Harry Potter is a very famous series, thank you very much,” he huffed, crossing his arms. The following silence was comfortable, Peter rifling through his dresser as he looked for his pyjamas. He succeeded, muttering a soft ‘aha’ at the victory, and turned to head to the bathroom.

“Get yourself comfy, you can sleep wherever, couch or bed,” Peter stated, trying not to blush for a third time in an hour. He made quick work of changing, exiting the bathroom once he was satisfied with his appearance. A new toothbrush smacked Tony in the back of the head, credits of Peter.

“The fuck, Parker? Why couldn’t you just ask me to turn around,” Tony muttered, grabbing the toothbrush and making his way to the meager bathroom. He cleaned his teeth, checked his face for any signs of, well, outstanding blemishes, and once satisfied, returned to the bedroom. Peter was already in the bed, having turned off the lights and receiving a wave of sleepiness that he couldn’t refuse.

Tony hesitated before quietly sliding in beside Peter, careful not to touch him in hopes of keeping him comfortable. After all, this was Peter’s bed. He shifted, finding the proximity a little too...exciting.

Peter stirred, muttering something incomprohensive that sounded suspiciously like ‘Stop fucking moving,’ which Tony grudgingly obeyed. He found himself drifting sooner than he usually did; maybe it was the company that finally got his eyes to close, who knows. It just felt good to be cared about.

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

“Fuck, harder Tony,” Peter cried out, relishing the feeling of the flogger on his burnt ass, “please. Please Tony, ah!”

Tony whipped mercilessly, painting the teen’s ass and lower back a pretty scarlet colour. He knew Peter loved it, despite the whimpers of pain as he relentlessly assaulted his body, again and again.

“Little slut, begging for me to stop like a good little bitch. Ask me nicely, I might consider,” Tony snarled, drinking in the moans that came tumbling out of Peter’s mouth at the sentence.

“P-please, I promise I’ll be your good little cockslut, please just let me go,” Peter repeated, rolling his eyes back from pleasure. His cock twitched at the constant stimulation, begging for touch, but Peter couldn’t move, the restraints preventing him from relief.

Tony growled, pausing the flogging at 15 hits. “You better live up to that, whore,” he snarled, taking in the sight before him. Peter, bound to the bed face-down, bent over the back, ass on display. His petite frame quivered in anticipation, preparing for more of the flogging.

“Yes, Tony, I promise I’ll be good, no more,” Peter begged, too aroused to care how desperate he might sound. He jerked his hips forward, trying and failing miserably to acquire friction for his painfully hard dick.

Tony untied the restraints slowly, careful not to hurt his lover any more, now that the scene was over. Peter sobbed, reaching down almost immediately to try and relieve his aching cock. Tony slapped Peter’s hand away, taking the matters into his own hands.

“Such a naughty boy, trying to touch yourself without permission. What do we say?” Tony crooned, teasing Peter’s tip. The latter cried out, grinding against Tony’s hand in hopes of release.

“‘M sorry, so sorry, please, please let me-ah!” Peter abruptly cut off his rambling as Tony took him in hand, stroking along his length tantalisingly. Peter sobbed, crying out as the feeling grew. He centered in on the sensation Tony was giving him, pumping his dick with such earnest it was almost too much, the heat building in his lower abdomen, ready to burst-

Peter woke up with a start, acutely aware of his burning arousal. Oh. Oh shit. He just had one of those dreams...about Tony. Who was right next to him. Peter sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide. He calculated his options, quickly realising he couldn’t move without waking him up.

He cursed the lack of space in the bed, horror taking over as his arousal became too prominent to ignore. He whined softly into his pillow, at loss with how to deal with the predicament. How did things go so badly wrong so soon?

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Tony elicited a groan in the silence of the room and shifted to that his hip was pressed against Peter’s...problem. He unconsciously bucked into the stimulation, immediately regretting the action as Tony groaned again and moved, if possible, closer to his dick. Well, wasn’t this just amazing.

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

Tony awoke from his sweet abyss of darkness, groaning in annoyance. What had woken him up? He thought he’d heard a whimper, but that couldn’t be right. He shuffled closer to his warm pillow, which promptly moved back against him. Tony froze; pillows weren’t supposed to move. Pillows...also didn’t have a bulge. He recovered quickly, a smirk slowly growing when he realised what had happened here. Parker was hard. So, so hard.

Tony groaned again, this time intentionally shifting against Peter’s bulge to try and gauge how exactly this was going to play out. He was met almost immediately with a response as Peter grinded against him. Tony stifled a moan; it was insanely hot, how responsive Peter was. He was obviously trying to hold back, covering his mouth as he desperately sought relief against Tony. The latter helpfully shifted again, receiving a small squeak in response. Peter’s hand snaked down to his cock, unable to hold back anymore. Tony closed his eyes, savouring this moment-possibly the only time he’d get to be this intimate with his crush, even if he was ‘asleep’.

Peter palmed against his sweats, the pleasure making his breathing uneven as he neared his climax. He felt so bad for doing this with Tony in the same bed, but he was past the point of being able to control his movements. The pressure built up inside him like a spring coiled at it’s base, as he desperately rutted against his hand, when it all became too much-and Peter went rigid. The white-hot pleasure consumed his body, racking through him in wave after wave as he tried to silently ride out his orgasm. The spurts of come soaked his boxers, but Peter was too out of his mind to care as the high slowly came down. His breathing was hard and his sweats were cold and sticky, but the aftershocks of the orgasm jerked his softening cock.

The world slowly came back to him as Peter blinked a couple times, trying to orient himself. The first thing he thought was oh shit, now I’ll have to lie in this mess until Tony wakes up.

That is, until he realised a tiny detail. Tony’s back and hip was completely covered. In. Peter’s. Cum.

Peter looked up slowly, the horror beginning to consume him. His entire body froze when Tony looked right back at him.

[btsybrkr]

What A Time To Be At Home!: The Best And Worst Coronacontent The Internet Has To Offer

Remember that joke that’s been around for ages, but was being told literally everywhere back in 2019? The one that went something like, “I hate it when people ask me where I’ll be in a year’s time - I don’t have 2020 vision!”?

Well, I bloody wish someone did.

In fact, in early January, I wrote out my own predictions for the decade ahead right here on my blog. They were obviously entirely hypothetical and - I thought - ridiculous. They were just a series of daft ideas that I thought I could take the piss out of, in the hope that people might read it and take a second out of their day to do an amused little nose exhale for me. But now, even the post-apocalyptic TV show ideas I pitched in that piece seem less ‘far-off dystopian chaos’, and more like they could be pleasant additions to the BBC Summer schedule.

The world is in the throes of a global pandemic, the likes of which haven’t been seen since… I don’t know, The Black Plague, maybe? As a result of that, the instructions have been clear: stay home, save lives. 

At first, the thought of being given a period of Government-sanctioned laziness seemed like a dream to many. We could write our autobiographies! Learn Klingon! Build ourselves a whole new house! But six weeks in, it appears to have started messing with the collective consciousness of the human race. Brains are fried, your Weekly Screen Time is up 103%, stomachs are full to the brim with banana bread and dalgona coffee, and certain celebrities’ egos are in a fight to the death with their common sense. In a time when we’re all supposedly doing nothing, there’s still so much going on. 

With that in mind, I thought we could recognise some of the things we’ve seen online that have kept us talking in lockdown, not just because of Coronavirus, but in spite of it. 

Welcome to the first (but hopefully not annual) What A Time To Be At Home! awards. The WATTBAH!’s, if you like.

The ‘Why On Earth Did You Think This Was A Good Idea?’ Award

Over the last few weeks, we’ve seen a sizable handful of blunders by the rich and famous that have, at worst, knocked them down a fair few places in our estimations and, at best, have left us scratching our heads, wondering what response they were expecting in the first place. 

With that in mind, it’s only right that this title goes to the original celebrity lockdown mistake: Gal Gadot’s ill-advised acapella cover of Imagine, featuring a variety of different Hollywood stars - not one of whom had the foresight to ask “are you sure this doesn’t make us look like complete arseholes?”, which, unfortunately, it absolutely does. 

Between the bizarre and insincere ‘I have a dream’-style speech at the beginning, the boldness of some of those featured to be quite clearly just taking the piss, and the fact everyone appears to be singing ever-so-slightly below the note without ever actually hitting it for the entirety of the song, this was tone-deaf in more ways than one. It’s even worse when you realise that this was posted less than one week into the lockdown, but then what would I know? Maybe madness sets in faster in multi-million dollar mansions. Probably because it echoes louder and bounces off the walls of your massive living room.

The ‘I Had To Suffer Through This, So You Do, Too’ Award

This award recognises content we’ve been witness to over the last few weeks that was so awful, so completely uncomfortable to watch, that after you’d gotten over the initial disbelief at what you’d just seen, you immediately had to send it to somebody you know, so that you can suffer through it together.

Despite how many celebrity lockdown moments have left me with my head in my hands over the last few weeks, this award could only go to a very recent contender - one which isn’t simply an embarrassing piece of celebrity lockdown content, but will likely haunt the inner corners of my brain long after this virus is simply a topic taught about in GCSE History lessons of the future. 

I am, of course, talking about Olly Murs. I’m talking about Pringlegate. I’m talking about Olly Murs removing the bottom of a can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles to trick his own girlfriend into touching his penis. On video, on TikTok.

Twitter: @buckyw1ng

There’s something inherently quite chilling about Pringlegate. It might be something to do with the 10,000 watt grin on Olly’s face as we watch him carefully maneuver a tin opener around the bottom of the can, or perhaps it’s just the question of how long he’d been sat there holding it around his naked penis as he and his girlfriend watched a film, patiently waiting for the moment to strike. Perhaps it’s the way the video freezes as she reaches over for a Pringle, allowing time for Olly Murs’ to add in an audio clip of himself, shouting “SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND”. 

Maybe it’s the uncontrollable show of amusement he launches into as she snatches her hand back in shock, laughing away, heartily, as if to say “Ha! You thought it was a normal can of Pringles, but it was actually my PENIS covered in Pringles crumbs! You just got PUNKED!”, like it was all simply a clever ruse. 

Above all else, I think the most uncomfortable thing about it is that I can’t help but feel like all bets are off in 2020, and that this is a fairly tame warm-up for things to come.

So, Olly Murs, you are inarguably the rightful winner of the ‘I Had To Suffer Through This, So You Do, Too’ award. Congratulations! Don’t do it again, yeah?

The ‘Are You Actually Aware Of These Words Coming Out Of Your Mouth?’ Award

I’ve said some stupid things since this lockdown started. Personally, I put it down to the lack of social interaction, which I think might be frying my brain a little bit, or at least that’s what the ornament of a turkey that sits on my kitchen windowsill told me the other day. However, I don’t think I or anybody I know has said anything even one fraction-of-an-iota as void of intelligent thought as Vanessa Hudgens’ terrible opinions on social distancing, shared in a now-infamous Instagram live last month. 

“It’s a virus,” she clarified, helpfully, before going on to explain, “I get it. I respect it.” 

I’m sure your respect means the world to it, Vanessa, but do you ‘get’ it?

“But even if everybody gets it, like… yeah… people are gonna die,” she explains, in a tone so chirpy that the word ‘die’ might as well be replaced by the phrase ‘have such a bloody lovely old time’, “which is terrible, but, like… inevitable?” 

In all fairness, death is inevitable, but I don’t know if suggesting speeding up that process for thousands of people because you were disappointed that Coachella was cancelled is an equally logical take.

After a brief - and probably quite profound - moment of self-reflection, she laughs “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right now”. Oh, you think? Which bit? Just holding these insane ideas, or actually broadcasting them to your 39.1 million Instagram followers? 

She did post a video the day after, clarifying that - despite what she said - she is staying at home, and is urging others to do the same. I guess she does respect the virus after all. Now, if everyone could hurry up, catch it and die from it, so that she can go to Coachella 2021, Vanessa Hudgens might respect you, too. 

I guess We’re All In This Together, after all.

The Show Of Support Award

I’ve already talked a lot about the rich and famous here, so maybe it’s time to take a break from that madness - although, I get it, I respect it - and have a look at how the rest of our lives look at the moment.

One weekly occurrence that seems to be set to stick around is the weekly round of applause for the NHS. Whilst it’s nothing short of blood-boilingly annoying seeing Boris Johnson absent-mindedly clapping in celebration of a service that he recently admitted he hadn’t even noticed the strain on until he, himself, nearly died of the virus, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the rest of us getting involved. If anything, it’s heart-warming to see the videos of NHS staff being applauded by neighbours as they leave for work, and to hear the cheers echoing through the streets at 8pm every Thursday. There’s a lot of people being quite cynical about it. We obviously know it’s not going to stop Coronavirus in its tracks, but sometimes it’s just nice to be nice, alright?

One thing I’ve noticed recently is how many people have adopted different noise-making strategies, possibly in an effort to effectively boost their support by a factor of 300%. Banging pots and pans together appears to be the most popular, but the winner of this award saw your pots and pans and said “how sweet”, before showing us how it’s really done.

I present to you, a genius. The ultimate hype-man.

Twitter: “a deeply disturbed national psyche” - @willuminare

There’s something so chaotic and angry about the energy in this video, just one man, a cricket bat, and a wheelie bin, banging away to show his gratitude. Just living in the moment. I wish the neighbour who’d captured it on camera had caught more of it, or at least just enough to edit the footage with Electric Youth’s soaring synth anthem  ‘A Real Hero’ from the soundtrack of the movie Drive against it.

I’ve been trying to learn to play the keytar in lockdown, to near enough no avail. Maybe at 8pm next Thursday, I’ll just take it outside and smash it against the pavement. You know, for the NHS.

Honourable Mentions: The Very Best In Coronacontent

It’s not all been so questionable - there’s been a lot of uplifting, funny, positive and thoughtful things shared online over the past few weeks. John Krasinski’s YouTube series Some Good News has provided a much-appreciated contrast from the bleakness of traditional current affairs programmes. There’s five weeks worth of episodes on his YouTube channel at the moment, so I would definitely recommend checking it out, especially if you feel like you need a lift! 

Over on Twitter, there’s been a lot to laugh about, as ‘front camera comedians’ are well and truly in their element (my personal favourite recently has been Alistair Green), as well as plenty of other users who are utilising their free time to create some brilliant stuff - this six-part opera based on a 2007 Facebook argument by Archie Henderson is genuinely one of the funniest things I’ve seen in weeks.

Twitter: “I made a six-act opera out of a conversation between some 14 year olds on my Facebook from 2007″ - @jazzemu_

All in all, these are obviously bizarre times that we’re living in. We don’t know how many more weeks of lockdown we’re going to have, when we’ll get back to normal, or even if ‘normal’ will mean something completely different from now on. 

What we do know is that the internet, and everyone on it - whoever they are or whatever they’re saying - will continue to surprise us, inform us, entertain us, provide a place for our quizzes and conversations, and keep us together in some sense, when we have no choice but to be apart. 

Thanks to anyone who’s read this far. I hope that you and your friends and families are keeping well, and that you took even a slight shred of lockdown enjoyment from even one thing I’ve said over the past couple thousand words! 

Finally, before I go, I thought we might share a little song. It goes like this:

Imagine there’s no heaven....

if you like, can follow me on twitter here or instagram here :-)

[buchanannn]

Seconds: Part Two (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Part 1

Summary: you and Bucky hang out, not much else

Word Count: 2563

Warnings: some swearing I think, fluff, no smut ://

A/N: this is part 2 and it ain’t that good, no smut kinda just story stuff, hopefully things get better soon

You woke up to the sound of cars driving below and people chatting in the streets. When you opened your eyes, you looked directly up to Bucky's sleeping face. The sun filtered through the curtains, drawing patterns on his cheeks. You looked in awe and then your heart almost leapt through your chest. What if he regretted it? What if, when he woke up, he'd realise that he'd made a mistake?  You looked away from him, trying to find the best way out without waking him up. But, with his arm wrapped around your waist, you figured there probably wasn't an easy way. You tried to push yourself out but Bucky's grip tightened as he sighed. His eyes began to flutter open and you panicked. Before you could even think about getting up, he smiled at you. "Morning." Your heart calmed a little as he rubbed his eyes. "Good morning." You replied, quietly. You propped yourself onto your elbow as he pushed some hair from his face. He turned his head to look at the clock on his side table, which read 9:24am. He ran his right hand over his face and yawned. You watched in awe as his muscles flexed as he moved.

"Take a picture," he smiled looking over to you. "It'll last longer." Despite your burning cheeks you just smirked. "Maybe I will." Bucky quirked am eyebrow, raising the left side of his mouth teasingly. "Oh it's that way now? You'll take pictures of my undressed body and sell them for some pretty pennies." "I doubt I'd be able to sell them." You giggled. "Probably couldn't even get a corn chip." "Puh-lease," Bucky swatted his hand. "There would be so many bids for a picture of my pillow let alone me."

"Arrogance is unattractive." You raised one eyebrow. Bucky laughed and shook his head. "No it's not."

"You're right." You buckled and let your head fall back to the pillow. You felt Bucky's warmth moving closer to you as he wedged himself closer to your pillow. When you turned your head, his eyes were closed but a smile still graced his face. You couldn't help but lean toward him and press a kiss to his smiling lips. When you moved back his eyes were open and his smile was wider. "What?" You laughed sheepishly. "Do that again." He said simply. So you did. You adjusted your body so you were half laying on top of him as his arm snaked around your waist. You cupped his cheek with one of your hands and rested your weight on the other forearm. His grip tightened until your bodies were pressed flush together. You were suddenly aware of your lack of clothes and the covers slipped down and Bucky's t-shirt began to ride upward. Bucky's hand filled the lack of t-shirt and cupped your ass as the kiss became more heated. You bit down in his lip, earning a small sound of approval. You weren't sure how far you were willing to go that morning but you'd never find out; a sharp knock causing you to spring back from him. He laughed at you as Steve's voice came through, muffled.

"Buck, you awake?"

Bucky, still laughing, called back an affirmative and you heard the door handle wriggle.

Time seemed to slow down, what if Steve saw you there, in bed with Bucky? Would he think you were easy? Would he think you were Bucky's girl and then stick to 'bro-code' and strike you out as a potential girlfriend. Thinking fast, you rolled of the bed, accidentally ripping off some blankets in the process and hide yourself on the opposite side of the bed, simply hoping Steve wouldn't advance further through the door. Bucky cursed as the door opened and the sheets fell to the floor. You instantly wanted to apologise but that couldn't give away your hiding spot.

"Me and Sharon were gonna go and get some coffee, want anything?" Steve said, leaning on the door frame.

"No thanks." You didn't miss the twinge of sadness in Bucky's voice and you felt the same in your chest. What you'd do to be the one beside Steve in the morning.

"Sure?" Steve asked again and Bucky nodded. "Okay, well, we'll be back in like half an hour."

"Sure." Bucky said simply.

"It's weird." Steve said before leaving. "I could've sworn I heard Y/N before."

"Yeah, she sent me a video if her cat." Bucky lied smoothly.

"Oh." Steve sounded unconvinced. "Okay, well, see you."

"Bye." Bucky waved. You waited until the door closed to pop up.

"Sorry." You said quickly. "I didn't mean to pull these off." You tossed the blankets back on the mattress.

He wiped his face quickly. "Jesus Christ."

You stood by the bed, watching him closely. "I better go."

He looked up, surprised. "Why?"

"Errands." You shrugged. You crossed an arm over your torso and held the opposite arm. "Saturdays are my running around days."

Bucky nodded, not meeting your eyes. "Yeah, sure." You bit your lip as you picked up your clothes from around the room. You sighed, walking to Bucky's side of the bed and sat on the edge. You leant your head on his shoulder. "I actually do have errands, Buck. I'm not just skipping out on you."

"I know." He said. He turned his head to look at you. "I have stuff to do, too. It's probably for the best." You smiled over at him, standing back up. "I'll see you on Monday."

"See you on Monday." He smiled back. You left his bedroom, struggling to pull your clothes on as you walked through the hallway. You held his t-shirt in your hand, not sure what to do with it. You threw it on the back of the couch and then you left.

It'd been 9 days since you and Bucky had left the party together and it seemed to have not changed your working dynamics. It only got awkward if it was mentioned and since no one else knew, the awkward moments could be kept in the lower numbers. Bucky had just come back from a small call in with Natasha and was just about to settle down into bed when he heard giggling coming from Steve's room. Great, he had to put up with that.

Bucky tried his hardest to ignore it but the walls of the apartment were so thin that he could hear the sounds of them kissing and he was out of there faster than you could say 'bad roommate'. He slammed the door on the way out, hoping they would hear it and feel at least a little bad that they were making so much noise. He checked the time on his phone, 11:23pm, before dialling your number. You answered with a laugh filled "hello?"

"Hey, it's Bucky." He said.

"I know, man. Caller ID." You teased.

He smiled to himself. "What are you doing?"

"Watching TV." You said. "There's a comedy festival on."

"Want some company?" Bucky's voice sounded less confident than usual and he hoped you wouldn't notice.

"I would love some, Buck." He could hear the grin in your voice.

"I'll be there soon." He said, ending the call and pushing his hands deeper into his pockets.

When he knocked on your door, he was greeted with a warm gust of air and the smell of your perfume.

"Hey!" You grinned, opening the door further for him. You were in your signature dorky pyjamas with an old t-shirt and a pair of flannelette pants that looked like they were straight out of the 70s. "Hi." He smiled, taking his coat off. "Well, the comedy show just finished but I think the Conjuring is on next just because I know how much you love horror movies." You grinned, ignoring the look he was giving you. "Yes," he said sarcastically. "I love them." Bucky watched you walk toward your kitchen area, glad no one was around to catch him checking you out.

"Drink? Food?" You called out, leaning on the refrigerator door. "Got any beer?" He called back, bending down to untie his shoes. "Is that a genuine question?" You laughed, pulling our two bottles from your seemingly never ending stash. He watched you pop the lids then set a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You handed him a beer as you walked back, flopping on the couch next to him. "So, what made you desperate enough to come hang with me?" You asked, as the two of you clinked bottles. "Sharon's spending the night." Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yikes." You made a face. "I spoke to her the other day. Apparently they're thinking about moving in together." Bucky felt like he'd just been punched in the chest. He lowered his beer bottle, his eyes falling on his hands. Steve had thought about replacing him? It had nothing to do with his feelings, either, just their friendship. He should've known, Steve was never gonna stay with him forever. "Buck, I'm sorry." You said softly, moving over to sit by his side. You set an arm over his shoulders. "I'm such an asshole."

Bucky shook his head. "No, no. I shouldn't be sad." "I'm sure she's just delusional anyway." You tried to console him. "And even if he did move out, you could move in here. Just think about it! Endless beer and pizza and shitty movies!"

Bucky smiled.

"Sorry, man." You lay your head on his shoulder and he rested his head on yours.

"It's okay," he turned to look at you. You smiled sweetly and then the microwave beeped, causing you to jump. Bucky laughs at you as you jumped up to fetch the popcorn.

On the way back you shut off all of the lights. The two of you snacked while watching the ads before the film. You even went as far to get a blanket to pull over the two of you as you leant on him. He kept his right arm tucked around your waist and you made sure the blanket covered his toes. It was how it'd always been.

When the movie started, you munched excitedly on popcorn while he groaned at the eerie tone of the film. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that the man with a kill list longer than a phone book and a metal limb was scared of a two hour long, scripted possession.

"Shut up." He nudged you as your laughter grew louder. "Or I'll make you watch an even scarier film."

"The Notebook?" You feigned fear.

"Joke all you want, doll," he smirked. "But I know your biggest fear is romantic-comedy."

"And Adam Sandler movies." You nodded, wide eyes.

"You're ridiculous." Bucky shook his head.

"Maybe." You agreed. "But at least I'm not scared of a bunch of actors."

He raised his eyebrows. "They're designed to scare you! If anything, you're the weirdo for enjoying them."

"Okay, sure." You nodded sarcastically.

He narrowed his eyes at you as you simply giggled at his irritated reaction. THe two of you had spoken through the first couple of scenes and it was already an ad break. The loud, jolly music actually made you jump as it switched so quickly from the eerie soundtrack if the film.

Bucky took this moment to laugh at you.

"Yeah, lap it up bud, it'll be the only scare I get." You stood up,tossing the blanket on him. "I'm going to pee." You walked through the apartment, picking your phone up before locking the bathroom door behind you. You glanced quickly into the mirror, your eyebrows needed taming and your face was barren of any makeup. You didn't know why you were stressed about that, though, you weren't typically a very appearance worried person. You shook it off and made to sit down to do your business but your phone started ringing before you could do so much as pull down your pants.

"Steve?" You greeted him.

"Hey, Y/N, have you seen Bucky?" He sounded worried.

"Yeah, he's here with me." You replied. "Why?"

"Oh!" Steve sounded surprised. "What are you two-? Never mind. Sorry. I just hadn't seen him yet today."

"Okay?" You narrowed you eyes. "Anything else?"

"That's all. Thanks Y/N." His voice sounded distracted. "You guys have fun."

"Hey, Steve," You started quickly before he could hang up. "I have a quick question."

"Shoot." He said.

"I know this is out of the blue but, uh, are you and Sharon gonna move in together?" You kept your voice hushed.

"Not anytime soon I don't think." He answered hesitantly.

"Oh, okay. Cool. Thanks. Well, have fun, bye." You hung up before he could ask any of the follow up 'why?' questions and then sat to actually piss.

You washed your hands, smoothing down your hair quickly and heading back out to the couch. You got to the living room and found Bucky absent from the couch. Maybe he got a phone call? Or was getting more beer? Or - "Boo!" Bucky jumped out from behind the corner around the hallway and immediately you balled your fist and threw it at him. Thankfully, he dodged out of the way before you could bruise his beautiful face, but he stared at you, wide eyed. "That was kinda hot." He laughed. You exhaled heavily, the edginess in your body still present. "You are a grade A asshole."

He laughed at his little practical joke, slinging an arm around you and leading you back to the couch. He kept his arm around you which you were thankful for in the cold night. Despite the heater in your apartment you never seemed to be warm. You debated whether or not you should tell Bucky about Steve's call but you decided not to. His night had already been disrupted by him and Sharon so why do it again? His arm rested around your waist and his hand on your ass, the blanket pulled up over the two of you. You'd seen the movie so many times that it was beginning to get boring upon this viewing and you could tell that Bucky wasn't enjoying himself either. You sighed, leaning forward and switching off the TV and walking over to switch on the light.

"Hey!" Bucky complained.

"It was boring. You hated it. Let's just go to bed." You sighed.

"I was having fun." He pouted.

"What? So you like horror movies now?" You raised your eyebrows with crossed arms.

"No I was having fun copping a feel." He laughed. You rolled your eyes.

"Come on. I'm tired."

"Alright, whatever." He pushed himself out of the couch and followed you to your bedroom. He shed his pants and his shirt, climbing under the covers as you made yourself comfy. He moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your body and pulling you into his chest. "What are you doing?" You deadpanned. "Oh please, we've been closer than this." Bucky scoffed. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as if to try and jog your memory. But you hadn't forgotten a single detail of that night. "Whatever." You mumbled, closing your eyes and nestling back into him. The room was silent, you listening to Bucky's even breathing and slightly snoring, as you lay awake.

[a-weird-rusted-android]

FrostIron prompt: thor has been captured and taken off world, Loki is in shields prison, I want a conversation of Tony trying to get Loki to help look for him. Maybe even offer incentives.

Thank you for the prompt! I’m admittedly not sure where this would stand in canon, maybe a post-first Avengers movie au maybe

Lokiwas becoming seriously bored. Not that being locked in a glass cagewasn't always, but usually at least once a day someone would come andbother him. Thor, trying to make him see the error of his ways withbig eyes full of hurt, usually. Fury and the Widow to try and getinformation out of him, other times.

Butit was the fourth day in a row no one came around. Maybe somethinghad happened and the mighty Earth heroes didn't have the time forhim. It was amusing to imagine them full of cuts and bruises, but itdidn't change the fact he was starting to even miss their company.

Thesound of steps coming down the hallway reached him and he hid hismild relief at finally being given a reprieve from his boredom,merely turning his head as he lay on his so called bed.

Stark.Loki grinned. Stark was an uncommon sight, but a welcome one. He waspossibly Loki's favourite human so far, smart and quick of tongue,always ready to exchange some scathing remarks with him.

"Hellothere," Stark said, looking for all intents and purposes like hehad wandered by his cell by complete accident.

Lokididn't miss the new bruise on his forehead. "Stark. Are youlooking for someone to insult your superiors with again?"

"Iwouldn't exactly call them my superiors. And no, I'm afraid I'm herefor business."

Lokiraised an eyebrow. "I expected better from you."

"Sodid I. Believe me, I hate to do this, but I'm here to ask for yourhelp on behalf of SHIELD and the Avengers."

Loki'sgrin widened. "What was so terrible to make Fury consider theidea of asking me for help?"

"Itwasn't Fury's idea. He isn't really on board with it, but even Caphad to admit it sounds like our best option."

"Didhe? And tell me, why would my help be needed?"

"Well,"Stark began pacing in front of Loki's cell as he spoke, "yourmore or less brother is MIA. We were off to fight some intergalacticbad guys who had decided Earth sounded like a good place to maketheir base, and it was supposed to be an easy job, only it wasn't andlong story short he's now locked somewhere possibly less comfortablethan your cell in the next solar system."

"Youhave the reputation of making good parties, Stark, if you could throwone to celebrate I would be grateful," Loki said, turning hishead up to look at the ceiling.

"Can'tdo, I still have to figure out how to bring a decent quantity ofalcohol past the security controls, and believe me, I've been trying.Anyway, as you might have guessed, we'd like your help in finding outwhere did your brother end up to."

"Canyou guess my answer?" Loki asked.

"Isit something that sounds like, 'yes, please, I'd do anything if itmeant getting out of this fish tank for a while'?"

"Noteven close," Loki said.

"Pity.Because that's what I'd say if I were in your situation," Starksaid.

Itwas also what Loki was very tempted to say. Even if it meant havingto collaborate with these self-righteous mortals in order to helpThor, it meant having a distraction and possibly the chance toescape.

Buthe knew accepting immediately would have raised suspicions. And hewanted to milk this for all its worth.

"I'mnot quite as bored as to find your offer interesting," hesettled for saying.

"Andhere I thought you were the God of Lies, not God of Patiently Waitingin my Room," Stark said.

Lokigrinned. "Taunting me won't get you anywhere. And I don't make ahabit of striking deals I won't gain anything by, I'm sure you canunderstand that."

"Ican." Stark pulled out a strange device from his pocket andpressed something on it. "That's why I have thought ofincentives," he said, after a low beeping sound.

"Whatdid you do?"

"Ideactivated the audio feedback for a while."

Lokisat up to face Stark, chuckling low. "I'm all ears, Stark."

"Yousee, if you were to accept you would spend the entire time shackledin order to keep your magic down and under constant surveillance allthe time. Not that I seriously think it would keep you from finding away to escape, but it would be annoying, wouldn't it?"

"And?"Loki asked.

"And,I could volunteer to be the one to supervise you. I have developedthings that can hold you down if needed and we know my arc reactormakes me partially immune to your magic," Stark said.

"I'mnot all that eager to spend my time with you."

"Youmight be eager of getting a few commodities you might not have here.Like, a bed that isn't a slab of metal for starters."

Lokiglanced down at the thing that had been his resting place for thepast few months. "I've slept in worse places."

"That'snot the only thing I'm offering. I'm offering a golden cage with somespace for you to beat your wings instead of Fury's breath down yourneck. Drinks, nice food, something more interesting than that,"Stark gestured at the few magazines that SHIELD had gave him to passhis time, "you name it. Then we throw you back here, but if youact like a good boy I could manage to let them some moreentertainment. A TV, maybe."

"Andyou would trust me in your house like that?" Loki asked, amused.

"Trustyou, no. But I'm sure I can keep you under control if needed, and I'mnever wrong about my technology. And there is also one other thing."

"Whichis?"

Starkgrinned. "You have been ogling my ass for a long while now. Ifan alien man has the same needs as a man man, you must feel a littlerepressed in here."

"Areyou offering your body?" Loki asked.

"Iam offering a mutually enjoyable affair which involves my body andhopefully yours as well, yes."

Lokilaughed. "What would your teammates think of you, Stark?"

"Ifrankly hope they wouldn't be surprised at this point that I'd nevermiss the chance for sex with a god." Another beep came fromStark's device. "Well, that was faster than I expected."

Starkgrinned at him one last time. "Think about our talk, Rudolph.I'll be back once you've thought about it for while. See ya."

Ashe watched Stark go, Loki had to admit the man's arse was ratherfine.

Hemade himself as comfortable as he could on his bed. The chances ofwhat Stark was offering were slim enough, but if the deal was likethat, Loki could accept it. It was a chance at escaping, and in thetime it took him to understand how, he could enjoy a few days withsomeone he knew meant luxuries when he said luxuries.

Definitelyhis favourite mortal so far.

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Negan Smut Week Submission: Nightclubbing

Hey dudes! This is my third and last Negan Smut Week submission. Hope you enjoy! It’s been super fun writing these, and I can’t wait for the next one. :)

Summary: Sarah hates her life of drudgery working for points as a citizen of The Sanctuary. She learns about a semi-secret place in the building where Negan goes to look for his next wife and begins to devise a plan to seduce her leader. Will her scheme work?

Warnings: Negan, language, smut, fucking, finger fucking, alcohol, creepy dudes in bars, oral sex, 

Word Count: 4,210

Tags: @unicorn-blood-splatter, @negans-network, @lucifers-trash-stash, @thedeadwalks, @negansmutweek, @opheliadawnwalker3 @ali-pennell @negans-dirty-girl @grab-my-boner

Nightclubbing

Sarah frowned at her reflection in the mirror on the wall of the communal shower room as she straightened the form-fitting, sparkly dress that she wore, tugging it down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. It had been ages since she had dressed up, and she felt incredibly uncomfortable at the sight of her figure peeping through the sheer fabric that covered her. This was most definitely not her typical attire. As a citizen of the Sanctuary, who had to perform back-breaking labor for points every day, she preferred to wear more practical outfits. However, today was special; today called for a dress.

After the dead had begun to walk the earth, Sarah struggled on the road with a small group of survivors for nearly a year before they had been found by a band of rough looking thugs who called themselves The Saviours. Their leader, a crude and intimidating man named Negan, had convinced the rest of her group that it would be in their own best interest to join him. With the other members of her group willing to give up life in the open for the security of a building, Sarah felt that she had no choice but to go along with them. She could never survive on the road alone; however, months later, she still had reservations about living at the Sanctuary.

She began working for points the very week she arrived in the community, earning her keep through hard labour. Each day dragged into the next, and her mind began to atrophy with the tedium of it all. Life had become a bland routine: wake up, eat, work, and sleep. Some days Sarah wondered if the safety that living in the Sanctuary offered was even worth it. The rest of her life would be an endless slog toward what would likely be a premature end at the hands of a walker, or a maniac, or from a medical emergency that their meager facilities weren’t prepared to deal with.

She could feel that the end of her rope was looming on the day that she first heard about the night club. 

While waiting in line for breakfast in the building’s cafeteria, Sarah had been daydreaming about the novelty of life outside the fence and the feeling of sun on her skin. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on anyone, but happened to overhear an utterly surreal conversation between two young women speaking in hushed tones. In another life, before the dead rose, she wouldn’t have even registered the exchange between the pair, but given the circumstances into which they had all been thrown, their topic of conversation seemed completely impossible.

“So, do you think you’ll go tonight? I hear Negan will be there. Someone told me it’s where he goes to pick his wives,” whispered a mousy looking brunette with thickly-framed glasses perched on her nose.

Her friend, a gorgeous blond woman with high cheekbones and bright eyes responded, “I still need to get some points together for makeup. I can’t go looking like this,” she said gesturing to her face, which Sarah thought looked perfectly fine sans makeup, “Maybe next week I’ll have enough if I’m careful. So, what else do you know about it?”

“They said it was on the third floor in a big warehouse room. They’ve got booze and music, and someone even found some flashing lights. It’s like a real night club,” replied the brunette.

The blond woman chuckled, “Only someone like Negan would prioritize a night club where he can shop for girls in the middle of the apocalypse.”

“Yeah well, if he picks you, you’re set. Wives don’t have to work for points. They just get to do whatever they want. I hear they still have TVs and DVDs up there in his private quarters. And books! I would kill for a book!”

“I’d kill for a chance to fuck Negan,” the blond giggled, “I’d climb that man like a mountain!”

Her friend slapped a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter quiet, “Oh my god! You’re so bad! Pervert!”

Sarah gathered her food and brought it a nearby table where she ate alone, her mind turning over the information she had gathered from the two women. If what she had overheard was true, there could be a chance for her to get out of this monotonous life of drudgery and into a more luxurious and exciting position. Maybe it wouldn’t be as free as life outside of the Sanctuary, but it was something new and different. She could spend the rest of her life filling her time with books and movies while forgetting that she was essentially a prisoner here.

She had work to do.

The following weeks were occupied with working overtime and saving points until Sarah was able to afford some of the supplies she needed for her plan. She knew that her typical jeans and t-shirt wouldn’t cut it when it came to getting the attention of the so called “king of the Saviours”, so she took it upon herself to purchase a tight, sparkly cocktail dress that had somehow made it into the Sanctuary’s commissary, as well as a nice push-up bra and a pair of fishnet stockings. Word on the street had it that Negan was a fan of fishnets, so she decided that it couldn’t hurt to wear them.

The cost of these items was tremendous and took nearly all of the points she had managed to save up by going without, but she knew that it would be worth it in the end. She would dig herself out of the circumstances she had been thrust into the only way she could: by seducing Negan and convincing him to take her as one of his wives. Tonight would be the night.

After checking her hair for the tenth time, Sarah inspected her face. She only had access to the few pieces of makeup she had with her when fleeing her home at the beginning of the outbreak. Very little of it had survived the journey to the Sanctuary, but she did manage to keep one tube of ruby red lipstick with her. She pulled off the cap and twisted up the tube before coating her plump lips with a coat of crimson. Not bad at all, she thought as she smiled at her reflection. She may not be the most stunning woman who ever graced the earth, but she cleaned up well. Hopefully, that would be enough.

During her research, Sarah had discovered that the night club only ran on Friday nights after work had finished for the day. It was twenty points to enter, and drinks were five points each. Negan sometimes went, and word had it that he indeed had selected some of his current wives from the crowds of citizens who gyrated to the music pumped through speakers from one of the few computers in the building that still worked.

Her shoes scuffed softly against the corridor’s tiled floor as she made her way toward her destination. She could hear the bass thudding inside the room while brightly-colored lights escaped the doorway to paint the adjacent wall with a rainbow of swirling neon. It made Sarah think about going to dances in her high school’s gymnasium as a teenager, only tonight she was here for much a more adult reason than to flirt with boys and maybe sneak some vodka with her friends in the ladies’ room.

She approached the door, which was guarded by a greasy-looking man in a white tank top. He regarded her, looking her up and down before simply saying, “Name?”

“Sarah,” she replied.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart. That’s a pretty common name.”

“Sarah Robertson.”

The man inspected a ledger that she assumed must contain point balances for the Sanctuary’s inhabitants. After a moment he looked up at her, “Its 25 points tonight, Sarah Robertson. The big man’s coming.”

“You mean Negan?” she asked, trying to hide her excitement. Her plan was coming together.

“I mean, he’s really the only big man worth mentioning right?” the bouncer said with an eye roll, “You gonna pay the extra 5 points, Sarah Robertson?”

“Sure, I guess I don’t really have much choice,” she mumbled.

“Then go ahead,” he replied, moving out of the way so she could enter the dimly-lit room.

Allowing her eyes to scan around her surroundings, Sarah noted that the room was already packed with men and women, and wondered why it had taken so long for her to find out about this place. Some danced in the far corner of the room near the speakers while others sat around the perimeter, nursing drinks and people watching. She made her way to the makeshift bar that had been set up at one end, and ordered a vodka tonic, giving her name to the bartender so that he could deduct points from her already plummeting balance.

After taking a seat, she began to sip her drink as she let her eyes wander around the room, looking for the man she intended to seduce. Negan was a striking man with broad shoulders and jet black hair. He would be very hard to miss, but as she scanned the room he was nowhere to be seen. Sarah supposed that he must be running late tonight.

The drink went down a little too easily, and she decided against having another as she wanted to keep her head clear. After several minutes of watching the crowd, Sarah decided that she should join the group of squirming people and dance. She didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was only here to stalk Negan, and he would probably notice her faster if she was in the middle of the dancefloor anyway.

She strolled to the perimeter of the crowd and began to sway to the music, her eyes still skimming the room for her target. The music was not exactly her favourite, but she tried to put on a good act of actually enjoying it. As her gaze drifted to the entryway for the twentieth time, her eyes lit up as she saw the man himself enter the room.

Negan strolled casually past the bouncer without even looking at him before striding casually to the bar to get a beverage. Sarah’s eyes followed him, admiring the man’s power and presence; wherever he went, crowds of people parted, allowing him access to whatever he wanted. Not wanting to be too obvious about her intentions, Sarah resumed dancing and tried her best to look appealing enough to catch his eye.

A couple of songs into this endeavour, she felt a pair of strong hands grip her waist roughly from behind as a man began to grind against her back. Sarah whirled around in surprise, hoping to find herself staring up at Negan, but instead coming face to face with a middle-aged man sporting an unfortunate moustache and a power donut.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred at her, “I’s just dancing with ya. Yer so sexy!”

“No thanks. I don’t want to dance with you,” she said, trying to keep her voice light and to not show too much disdain for the man.

“Awe come on!” he said, grabbing for her again, “Juss a little dancey dance with me! Iss not a big deal!”

“Hey! Get your hands off of me!” Sarah yelled, jerking away.

The man was undeterred, “Come on, you lil’ bitch. What’d ya think was gonna happen coming in here like that.”

He took another step toward her as Sarah prepared herself for a fight. Before she had even balled her hands into fists, Mr. Power-Donut was jerked back by a huge hand on his right shoulder, “The lady said to fuck off, baldy! So kindly FUCK OFF!” the loud, rough voice came from the swirling shadows of the dance floor.

Mr. Power-Donut turned, his face contorting into a mask of horror as he realized who had intervened in his assault. Standing there, his face eddying with neon light, was Negan himself. He did not look impressed with the man’s antics.

“S-s-sorry, sir! I didn’t know she was one of yours!” Power-Donut stuttered, appearing to sober up lightning fast.

“She’s not one of mine,” Negan glared down at him, “But that shouldn’t matter. A lady says to fuck off and you fuck off. Got it?”

“G-got it, sir,” the bald man said, his eyes wide with fear.

“Now get the fuck out of here. If I see you back here, there will be a punishment,” Negan’s eyes burned into the man with rage. Power-Donut turned around, mumbling an apology to Sarah, before practically running for the door.

“You ok?” Negan asked her, his eyes softening a little.

“I think so,” Sarah replied, still in disbelief at her simultaneous luck and misfortune, “Thank you for helping me out.”

“No need to thank me. No one deserves that kind of bullshit,” he extended a gloved hand toward her in the darkness, “I’m Negan.”

Sarah giggled at his perceived need for an introduction and shook his hand, “I know exactly who you are. Everyone here does. I’m Sarah.”

“Sarah. That’s a pretty fucking name. Come here often, Sarah?”

“No, this is my first time,” she said, trying once again to not let her excitement show.

“Ah. A virgin, huh? That’s fucking fun!” he said a little too loudly. People dancing nearby began to side-eye the pair, trying not to let on that they were listening.

“Well, not exactly a virgin, but you get the idea,” she said, a blush coming into her cheeks.

“It’s so fucking cute when ladies blush like that,” Negan said with a predatory smile, “Well, Sarah, virgin or not, you’ve got my attention. Want to get out of here and fool around or something?”

For a moment, Sarah didn’t know what to say. She had envisioned their interaction taking a lot longer to come to this point, but it seemed that Negan had no time to play games with her.

“It’s ok to tell me to fuck off, you know,” he said, seeming to notice her hesitation, “I’m not like that other fucker. My ego can take the hit.”

“Wait! No, I want to get out of here!” Sarah cried, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.”

“Looks like there are some things about me you don’t know, Sarah. I’m really fucking direct. No time to beat around the proverbial bush” he said with a chuckle, “Well then, let’s get the fuck out of here and see where the night takes us,”

He offered her his arm and she took it, allowing herself to be led away from the crowds of people. The two made their way from the dancefloor and out of the room. Negan steered them through a series of corridors and stairwells before they found themselves in a part of the Sanctuary that Sarah had never been in before. She supposed that this must be his private quarters.

Pushing open a large door, Negan motioned for her to enter a room with him. Once inside, her eyes took in her surroundings: a large bed, fireplace, and plush arm chairs were featured prominently in the immaculate room.

“This isn’t my real bedroom,” Negan explained, “I’m neat, but not this much of a fucking clean freak. This is more of an audition room.”

Sarah’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Audition?”

“Ok, not like a real audition or anything, don’t worry,” he said with a wink.

“That’s good,” Sarah replied, relieved, “What made you ask me to come back here with you?”

“Well, my dear, you caught my eye,” he replied, “I saw you all dolled up on that dance floor, and I know dresses like that do not come cheap in here. Then that prick started fucking with you, and I knew I had to get him out of there before he scared you off. Then you told me it was your first time in the club, and I put that together with the dress, and decided that you weren’t just there to dance. You were on a mission. Am I right, or am I fucking right?”

She sighed, annoyed that he had seen right through her plan, “You’re right. I was totally there to try to pick you up.”

“I’m not fucking surprised. It happens,” he shrugged, “Not to sound like a douchebag, you know, but word gets around about preference and habits in a small place like this. Then you start to notice an influx of ladies in night clubs wearing fishnets…”

“Shit!” she mumbled, “Here I thought I was being cleaver and original.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, taking a step toward her, “I’m fucking flattered and you look hot as fuck tonight. So I thought, why not give you a little test. See what you’ve got to offer. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course.”

He moved a gloved hand to her shoulder, letting his fingers trail down her arm. A shiver run through her at his touch as she took a deep breath and moving toward him, head tilted up to meet his gaze. Their lips crashed together in a kiss and she felt his hands now moving along her back and down to grab at her ass. The kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining and fighting for space in one another’s mouth.

As their faces parted, a flash of lust went through Negan’s eyes and he pushed Sarah toward the bed. She allowed herself to be directed by him, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at the large man. Placing a hand on either side of his hips, her fingers lightly drifted down to the front of his pants and began to tug at his belt, loosening it. After a moment she had his pants undone and had pulled his hardening cock out into the open.

She looked up at him again to make sure that he was enjoying himself and was glad to see his pupils dilate as she began to stroke him, first lightly and then gripping him tighter in her hands. Negan’s breathing deepened and he let the faintest growl escape his mouth as he watched her work his cock manually before trailing her tongue around the head for an exploratory lick.

Sarah could feel excitement building in her as she took him into her mouth, letting her saliva cover his rigid length. She looked up at him once more before increasing her pace and sucking him a little harder. Another low moan came from the man and she felt his hands entwine themselves in her hair, guiding her mouth around him just the way he wanted.

“Fucking hell, baby, that feels magnificent,” he said with a slight chuckle, before guiding her mouth off of him, “But, I think it’s time to get you out of your pretty little dress, don’t you think?”

She gave him one last playful flick of her tongue against the tip of his cock before replying coquettishly, “I think that’s a very good idea,” Standing slowly, she maintained eye contact for a moment before turning her back to him, “Will you unzip me, please?”

She felt his huge fingers fiddle with the clasp at the top of the garment before undoing it and sliding the zipper toward her ass. The dress fell from her shoulders and to the floor; she turned around and allowed Negan to inspect her choice of undergarments.

“Mmm. Very fucking nice,” he said, biting his lower lip, and seeming to think for a moment before asking, “Can I rip the fishnets off of you? It would be so fucking hot!”

Sarah paused for a moment. The fishnets had cost her a fortune in points and they were hard to come by, but she knew that giving the man the time of his life was more important if she wanted to make her way into his harem of wives. They probably had boxes of fishnets. She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun!”

Negan gently pushed her back onto the bed and ran his hands over her body, starting at her shoulders and then bringing them down to her hips and thighs. He hooked his fingers into a hole in the fabric around one of her inner thighs and tugged sharply. The strands of black thread holding the fishnets together began to tear, and the hole widened.

“Fuck yeah, that’s nice. That’s really fucking nice,” he repeated the action on the other side of the tights before making a hole just over her crotch, effectively creating a pair of crotch-less tights. She trembled as his firm touch lingered on the small scrap of fabric barely covering her slit.

“Hm. Feels like someone’s getting wet down here,” he said and hooked a finger under her panties to investigate, “In fact, feels like someone’s really fucking wet down here!”

He pushed a single finger into her folds and let it circle her clit, a smile playing on his face as she moaned at the sensation. After a moment, he added a second finger and plunged them deep into her pussy while tugging the panties aside with his other hand. Sarah gasped at the sudden sensation of fullness inside of her, raising her hips toward him slightly and closing her eyes.

“You like getting finger banged, baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky with desire, as he increased his pace.

“Fuck yes!” she said breathily, “That feels amazing.”

“Mmmm…and that’s just my fingers. Just imagine what my cock can do!” he said, “Do you want me inside of you, Sarah?”

She raised her eyes to meet his before saying, “Yes, I do. I want you to fuck my brains out.”

“That was the magic fucking word!” he said, then paused, “Well, magic fucking phrase, I suppose. You knew what I meant!”

Negan went to work tearing the fishnets the rest of the way off before pulling Sarah’s panties down over her legs and then tossing them on the floor. Sarah flipped herself over, sticking her ass into the air, “I like it doggy style, if that’s ok with you.”

“With an ass like that, I fucking insist on it,” he said, running a hand over her bottom before giving her a spank, “Sorry, I couldn’t fucking resist doing that. Your ass is just too fucking spankable.”

Sarah felt the head of his cock being rubbed against her opening, teasing her, before entering her from behind. The sensation of his thick cock stretching her open made her yelp, and she buried her face into the blankets to muffle her cries as he thrust into her. After a moment she felt Negan grab a handful of her hair at the crown of her head as he jerked her face up from the blankets, forcing an even louder cry from her mouth.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. There’s no one here to scandalize, and I want to hear you screaming my name,” he whispered roughly into her ear, still fucking her vigorously.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes! Negan!” she cried, enjoying the mingling of pleasure with the burn of her hair being pulled.

“That’s fucking better,” he growled, increasing his speed and pounding himself deep into her.

“Don’t stop! You feel so good right now!” she whimpered. His cock was hitting the most perfect part of her, and she could feel her orgasm beginning to grow inside of her with every thrust.

He released her hair and dug his fingers into her hips, leaving marks that she knew would show the next day. She could hear his moans becoming more frequent and forceful as a hand pushed down against her back, forcing her bottom even higher into the air. His other hand slapped her ass again, this time a little bit harder.

“Fucking scream for me baby!” he growled at her from behind.

Sarah let out a guttural sound, her fingers winding into the sheets as he fucked her over the precipice of her pleasure. She began to shake, calling his name over and over as she came, before collapsing to the mattress as Negan pulled out and finished himself off all over her ass, moaning her name loudly for her to hear.

Once his orgasm had ceased, he allowed himself to fall to the bed beside her, breathing heavily. Sarah lay on her stomach, watching his chest rise and fall. She let her fingers reach up and glide across it, sliding through his chest hair and to his jaw where she softly turned his face to her so she could kiss him once again.

“Fuck, baby. That was really fucking nice,” he huffed, staring at her through hooded eyes, “I think I want to do that again.”

“Oh really?” Sarah said, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“Fucking really. I’ve got a question for you,” he said, as he sat up to look for something to clean her up with.

“What’s that?” she asked, raising her hips off of the bed so he could wipe off his leavings with a towel he had found in the room’s closet.

“Ever been married?”

[daniellethamasa]

Hey all, Dani here.

I am getting so close to vacation time, and it is making me so darn excited. I just want to geek out with a bunch of other awesome gamer nerds, and hopefully learn some stuff and get some more writing motivation, and also do a little bit of relaxing and reading. We’ll see, because conventions tend to be fairly chaotic and busy affairs, but I also tend to be an early riser and so I can generally get an hour or two of reading time in each morning.

So yeah, at the end of the month Damian and myself (plus one of our buddies) will be driving the few hours it takes from our home in Ohio to Indianapolis, Indiana, to attend Gen Con. It is an event that we spend a lot of time getting ready for. Between the tickets to the convention, the cost of the hotel, and of course, saving up spending money, it takes us six or seven months to really be ready to go. But the time is almost here, and I think we’re in darn good shape this year, which is great.

Gen Con is a 4 day Tabletop Gaming Convention, but it actually has so much more than just games there. Yes, I will be trying out a bunch of dice/card/board/tabletop games, and possibly buying some more games and/or gaming accessories, but there are other things there too. There are panels on anime and movies and TV and books and writing. Since I’m trying to get myself back into writing and all of that, I am attending a number of panels being held during the Gen Con Writer’s Symposium.

But then I heard the announcement for the summer session of Dewey’s 24 Hour Readathon, which is a Reverse Readathon. For their spring and fall sessions the readathon starts at 8 AM EST, but for the Reverse Readathon it will start at 8 PM. Unfortunately this time around they announced that the readathon will be from 8 PM on Friday August 2nd until 8 PM Saturday August 3rd.

Guess when that is?

If you guessed right in the middle of Gen Con, then you would be correct.

Did that stop me from signing up for the readathon? Nope, no it did not.

So for today, I figured I would take you through my panel schedule and then maybe toss out some ideas for what I can try and read for this readathon. I think I need help figuring out a TBR, because I will be running around Indianapolis, so it’s not like I’ll have a whole bunch of books on hand.

Gen Con Day One – Thursday, August 1st (coincidentally also my birthday–yay!)

10 am – 11 am: Patreon: Is It For You?

11 am – Noon: Mastering Fiction: Worldbuilding

Noon – 1 pm: What can SFWA Do For You?

1 pm – 2 pm: When to Go Full Time: Can It Be Done?

3 pm – 4 pm: The Many Forms of the First Draft: How Do You Get it On the Page

4 pm – 5 pm Storybuilding in Books and Games: Dungeon Mastering for the Writer, Writing for the Dungeon Master

Gen Con Day Two – Friday, August 2nd

10 am – 11 am: Being Your Own Boss: Trials and Tribulations of Self-Publishing

Noon – 1 pm: The Cost of Magic: Making the Unbelievable Believable

3 pm – 4 pm: All the World’s a Stage: Creating Vivid Settings

5 pm – 6 pm: Resistance is Futile: Dealing with Writer’s Block and Resistance

9 pm – 1 am(?) Critical Role LIVE

Gen Con Day Three – Saturday, August 3rd

10 am – 11 am: Sexy Times in Speculative Fiction: The Ins and Outs of Love Scenes

Noon – 1 pm: Blogging 201

4 pm – 6 pm: Dungeon Master Live: Against the Danger-Mancer with the Library Bards

Gen Con Day Four – Sunday, August 4th

No panels

As you can see, I have a pretty good schedule for most of the event. And when I have more than an hour between panels, I’ll likely be wandering the show floor, checking out games and such. Of course, they are still making some author announcements and such for the Con, so I might end up adding in more panels and/or signings

The point is that I think I can get an hour or an hour and a half of Readathon time in on Friday evening, just before Critical Role and during their mid-show intermission. And then I might be able to get a few hours of reading time in on Saturday.

BUT, I don’t want to be carrying a lot of books around the city, so I’m going to need to be pretty strategic for the readathon. I also don’t want to rely too heavily on e-books, because I don’t want to completely drain my phone battery in case I need it to get in contact with Damian.

So, what I know for an absolute fact: I will be bringing Bloodwitch by Susan Dennard, Green Rider by Kristen Britain, and The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch with me to Gen Con, because all three authors are at one of the panels I’m attending, and I’m hoping to be able to get my books signed.

I also know that it is likely that I will be picking up a comic book or two from the comic book store on Wednesday, July 31, so whatever I pick up is a possibility for the readathon.

But I’m also looking at taking another couple of books. I just don’t know which ones specifically. I’m thinking I want “adult” fantasy. It’s weird because normally for 24 Hour Readathons I want to read shorter and faster reads, so I go with short SF/F or contemporary, or novella collections, or manga volumes to boost my books read count. Then again, there’s this feeling I get from being at conventions, and I just want to bask in my geekdom and delve into some truly epic fantasy.

Here’s where I’m at right now with my options:

City of Blades by Robert Jackson Bennett, The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin, and An Affinity for Steel by Sam Sykes.

I figured if I post this now then I have a couple of weeks until we head out to Indy for Gen Con, so if I’m suggested a book that I don’t already own then I have the time to buy it and have it sent to me. So, please, feel free to offer up suggestions. Otherwise I might just end up packing a small stack of books to have in my hotel room for if the mood strikes.

All right, that is all from me today, but I’ll be back soon with more bookish content.

Gen Con 2019 Schedule and Dewey’s 24 Hour Reverse Readathon Announcement Hey all, Dani here. I am getting so close to vacation time, and it is making me so darn excited.

[ptgerard]

People hate watching credits. Here’s how to do it right.

When you put videos out in the world, you want them to be seen. And for online videos, you have seconds, maybe just milliseconds, to grab a viewer’s attention and get them to watch — not only the opening moments, but hopefully your whole video. One of the most common pitfalls we see is starting a video with opening logos and credits. In our short attention span culture, they are a major turn-off.

Play counts can be misleading.

You want lots of people to actually watch your film, episode, or marketing video. And when I say “watch,” I don’t mean get a big play count, as most video platforms count a play even if the viewer didn’t watch most of the video. Facebook counts a play when a silent auto-playing video has been on screen for just three seconds. Snapchat counts a play the instant a video hits the screen, even if you skip it immediately.

On Vimeo, we only autoplay videos when we are confident a user wants to start watching, so Vimeo’s play counts tend to reflect people’s deliberate interest in watching your videos. Still, if you’re monitoring your Video Report in Advanced Stats you’ll see that few people make it to the very end of your videos, and a lot even drop off in the first few seconds. That trend is natural — but there are actions you can take to seriously change those numbers!

A lot of people fall off quickly at the start of the video, and few stay to watch the end credits.

Many filmmakers make a huge mistake by starting their film slowly — often with tons of time spent on a black screen or logos and credits — thinking it’s nice to ease the viewer in. While this approach may work at a film festival screening where everyone is sitting and waiting for your film, it unfortunately does not work online.

Here’s a documentary that I made a few years ago that premiered at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA). You have to wait 22 seconds before you see the first shot of the film. While that intrigue worked for a festival audience, on Vimeo a lot of people give up before they see a single frame of my movie.

With 22 seconds of black screen, at what point do you stop watching?

The lesson to learn is that even if you get a viewer to click play deliberately, in today’s hypermedia environment, you have to act fast to grab someone’s attention before they get bored or distracted. The first few seconds of any online video need to be immediately arresting: you want to grab hold of my eyeballs and fix my gaze so hard into your video that I ignore all the interesting stuff going on in the outside world.

The right way to get it started

Here are a few great examples of videos that are doing this right.

In this documentary, the opening shot captures my attention through a collision of nostalgia and intrigue. I’m excited to see a cassette player that reminds me of my youth, and also I’m immediately curious what the “question” is going to be.

This animation snags me immediately through strong imagery and an overlaid title. It doesn’t waste any time with black screens.

This video also does a nice job of hooking me. It opens with a striking image that triggers my imagination, and then on-screen text teases a discovery that I now want to learn about.

If you have a series, it’s also important not to start every episode with the same sequence. I like how in The Impossibilities web series, each episode starts with a different magic trick. I’m immediately captivated by the mystery of magic, and then I get drawn into the story.

What about end credits?

When you are deciding whether to watch a video, there are a bunch of calculations going on in your mind (whether you’re conscious of them or not), and duration is typically one of the factors. You may have a limited amount of time, or it may just seem too daunting to invest in a longer video.

End credits make a video’s runtime longer than it needs to be — and they have a bigger proportional impact on the duration of short films. Since the vast majority of people won’t actually read your credits (except maybe your mom, your Kickstarter backers, and Jeannie), you can just list your credits on your website, and link to it from the video outro and description. So you’re still giving credit where it’s due, without negatively impacting engagement.

The following thumbnails from some of my favorite Staff Picks all show a runtime that includes opening and closing credits, making each video look 15%-30% longer than they need to.

Just as $99 feels cheaper than $100, if you show a runtime of 11 minutes while your movie is actually 9 minutes, then you’ll get fewer people taking the plunge.

What if your contract requires certain credits?

You may have a contractual obligation to show funder logos and/or key credits before or after your film. I have a few tips:

Re-negotiate your deal so that there’s an exception for online use. You should be able to explain to your funders that it’s better for people to actually see the film than to turn off viewers with a series of logos before the video starts.

If you really need to include some logos and credits, then find a way to subtly overlay them on top of the starting shots of your film, or show them at the end. And find a way to make them interesting (like in this Young Thug video).

For the online version of your film, make the credits scroll a lot faster (hey, it works on TV!).

Taking my own medicine

Here’s how I’ve shaved a minute off the runtime of my film, and as a consequence, I’ve given it a much more engaging opening. You’ll see I’ve linked to the full credits in the outro and the description — so everyone gets their proper shout out — and I’ve incorporated my contractually obliged funder logos into a single end card.

Is this version more engaging than the one above?

There are tons of insanely clever and inspiring examples out there, too. If you’ve seen other great videos on Vimeo that are instantly engaging or have interesting approaches to credits, please share in the comments.

Originally published on the Vimeo Blog. Follow Vimeo on Twitter or Facebook to stay up-to-date. You can also follow me on Twitter or Vimeo.