#i designed almost all of it from scratch and what i didn't design i heavily modified to match what i needed

[scribblebook]

god i wish i was good at taking pictures of things i knit/crochet. incapable of making the things i make look as good as they look irl

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[alex-frostwalker]

Strayed too far...

The Visitor breaths heavily, as they run through the corridors of a labyrinth, requested by the strange hat man that dragged them to this strange place.

And here is some sort of... Test?

"I hope that weird hat man knows what he's doing... Here.."

They take a breather and leaned on to the pillar for support. They looked around in hopes those little black creatures called Negati.. As what the man.. Balan said.

Didn't chased them there.

Looking from left to right, and listened for the sounds...

Only remained is silence..

"Phew..." They sighed in relief, they stretch their back as to try to relieve the tension.

"Looks like the coast is clear haha..." They chuckled in relief,

"For what..?"

"GAH!!!"

The Visitor jumped and flinched by a sudden voice beside them.

"What's wrong...?"

They immediately turn to see a hooded cloaked stranger looming over him. With a pair of gold swirling horn-like accessories floating on the side of their head with black looking Drops hanging on its sides.

"Uh who are you????" The Visitor said as they stepped back, pointing an accusing finger on it.

"Who? Me?" It asked.

"Yes, you." They nodded, as they eyed at the person.

"I'm just... Someone... A Wanderer..." They said in a breathing echoed whisper.. Hearing the delayed words as it fades away, echoing through the halls.

"A Wanderer you say?" The Visitor squint, doubting this person. "Yes.. I'm just a Wanderer.. Collecting some important things to my work.. It's my role.. like Balan..."

The Visitor raises their brow, "You know him?"

"Yes... We've known each other for a long... Long.. Time..." It said, "Then how come he didn't mention you?" They glared.

"He's always like that... So secretive... Even with information as he runs the Theater... He always does that to guest visitors like you.. Intrigue..."

"He really is." The Visitor nodded and glanced around, hoping in some way to leave without provoking it. "He's always mysterious and full of surprises.."

"Yes... Yes he is... Now I've been thinking... Why are you here... Far from the designated path...?" The Stranger asked as they tilt their head to the side.

"Got a bit, side tracked.." They scratch their head. "Well that side track led you too far... Hahaha...." It chuckled darkly.

The Visitor frowned at it's suspicious tone.

"Well... I guess this is a farewell then.. I better go back to him." They said as they turn around, only to find the Stranger blocking their path.

"I should.. Assist you. I can't just leave you defenseless on your way back.." It said.

"No no, I can do this on my own." They shaked their head.

"NO. I insist. To ASSIST.."

The Visitor flinched, hearing the threatening tone it used.

"Oh. That reminds me..." The Stranger halt in their tracks as they tilt their body to the side.

"How rude of me... To speak to you with this hood..." They gestured to the hood over their head, "In the way.."

"That's alright... You might be shy, so it's understandable.." They said as they step further back.

"No no, it's on me..."

The Stranger slowly removed their cloak revealing long tentacle-like hair with strange markings... Almost like the Negati.

It moves and swishes to side to side after they unveiled their hood.

'This... Is bad..' They thought as their eyes go wide as the stranger revealed their face.

The Stranger twitched and tilted it's head.

Revealing it's sharp eyes with markings and tear streaks over it's eyes and visibly has no mouth.

'This is REALLY bad.'

"What's... Wrong..? Visitor...?"

They stepped back as soon as they see their sharp eyes staring down at them.

"Don't be afraid...." They float closer as the tendril-like hair moved and pinned it's sharp ends on the walls as it floated higher and over them.

"Not going to hurt you.... I'm letting you know me... And take you back to him... That's all.."

They doubt the Stranger's words, as they back away from them.. Who is hovering closer and closer.

"You're gonna take me back to him...? Really?" They asked, pretending to get on their good side. But deep down...

They felt doubt, hesitation and fear, wanting to go back to the Isle of Tims with Balan for safety from.. Whoever this is threatening person is..

...

...

...

...

"Ŵ̸̢hy ̴͘͜a̴̧̓rè̷͇ ̶͓̎you̵̦̍ ̵͙̅r̷̺͌unň̵͚ing?̴̜͐ "

[caffeinated-eccentric-polymorph]

🧭 Daydreamtober Day 2 🏰

💭 Prompt: 3 - Secret

Paracosm: ACCA Word Count: 1298 CWs: verbal sexual harassment, violence, medical neglect

James had been assigned cleaning duty. He hated that. The thing is, you're never assigned alone. And, as fun as doing it with friends is, there's no “brotherly bonding” -as they call it- when James is in the picture. Not doing it results in solitary confinement though, so he endures.

“Hey dickhead, burned anyone alive recently?” “Stay clear or I'll smash your face in the wall, ya hear freak?”

He shuts up, steer clear of the others and does his best to get this done as fast as he can.

He usually does this well. The others tend to get bored of his unresponsiveness and ignore him. And that night was no different. Well, except that- “I heard Loic still hasn't managed to catch the fresh meat” Lionel laughs. “Yea, I heard. Though according to him it's cause captain goody-two-shoes is playing white knight,“ scoffs the other -Theo, James thinks. ”Are you sure he's not just saying that cause he got no game?“ Lionel gestures to his dick. James feels sick. ”Nah, you know what they say! Great Hunter, great monster,“ Theo answers. ”I saw him once, you know, goody-two-shoes. He seemed almost jealous. Thinks he owns the doc cause he's in Admiral Amano's care.“ ”Pfff, he should know meals are first come first ser-“ James fist was burning, and it hurt, but Lionel was screaming on the floor and his face was blistering so that was a net positive in his opinion. He was breathing heavily, trying to douse the fire that still coated his knuckles. He didn't need to be sent to the infirmary with that asshole.

Breathe in, breathe out. The flames grew smaller.

Breathe in, breathe out. And smaller.

Breather in, breathe out. And cooler.

Breathe in, breathe- Searing pain, far greater than the fire on his hand had ever hurt him, hit his left leg. James chocked and fell.

”Fucking serves you right, cunt!“ He heard one -Lionel- scream as he was walking away, a cringing Theo running after him.

He remembers passing out.

When he woke up, he was at the infirmary. Fuck. ”You really are a monster,“ he heard someone say. ”How could you do that to a brother.“ He felt sick again, and it had nothing to do with the smell of burning flesh. ”It's too late for this bullshit, i already brought you here so you wouldn't get stampeded in the hall, I'll take care of your leg tomorrow. Lights off, door closing.

He decided to open his eyes. It was dark, except for a few moonrays filtering through the windows. It's been dusk when he snapped, the moon was high now. He groaned and looked down at his leg. It still ached sharply, but he was used to injuries. Howver, when he saw orange run down his leg from his injured knee, he felt dizzy. What they'd thrown on him as he was calming down was a norunner, a hunting instrument used to stop magic flow and make creatures fall. he was all too familiar with it.

He gulped and forced himself to look away. He may have designed those things, but they weren't designed for easy removal and he certainly did not know how to heal a non-superficial wound.

He looked around. he was alone, so he guessed the asshole had already been taken care of. Silver lining. He flopped back on his back, trying not to panic. ”I'll take care of your leg tomorrow,” she'd said, she should be aware he'd have bleed out by then. Surely, she didn't plan on leaving him to die as a so-called work accident, did she?

Considering how he was treated, he couldn't scratch that off as a possibility. Fuck everyone here, they'd made him like this and n ow they're just leaving him to die-

The door swung open and close again. Someone had gotten in, and was breathing heavily. Did someone come finish the job early? Fuck, he had to- He heard footsteps go by the door. ”Come on Doc, we just wanna have fun!“

When they faded in the distance, the Doc sighed and turned on the lamps. ”James? What are you doin-“

James shot up. His mind was racing. From what he knew, the Doc had medical training! But then he realised why they'd froze. He was an abomination, and the colored blood running down his leg was a proof of that. Even if they helped, they'd avoid him too now. He felt his eyes tear up and closed them, No way was he crying, he wasn't weak, sure he wasn't successful but-

”…What happened?“ Her voice was small, yet it echoed through the barren room. ”Got in a fight.“ ”Holy shit, are they mad? Those are horrific devices.“ ”I know,” he gulped.

He heard them approach. “Why did nobody treat you for that?” “Said they'd do it tomorrow-” “Tomorrow?! You won't be alive to treat anymore tomorrow!” Jamie jumped at the sudden yelling. “Sorry.” the Doc was speaking softly again. “I just, I can't believe they'd do something like that-” “I'm not lying, i promise,“ James felt his voice tremble. ”I believe you.“ Jamie felt his breath shake. His instinct told him the doc was placating him yet, he'd spoken so quickly, so sincerely-

”Would you allow me to treat you?“ ”W-what?“ Jamison opened his eyes. He saw the Doc's own coming back up from his leg to look at his face. James took a while to answer. Kai didn't press. ”yes please.“

Kai grabbed some supplies and kneed on the floor in front of the meek bed he was on.

This was all so bizarre. Nobody had ever talked to him like that, asked him for permission for anything, hell, they'd even left him to bleed out. Then this stranger with knowledge that rivals his own comes in, seeks refuge in his workshop, and does. Now that same stranger doesn't feel like one anymore, and he's knelt in a growing pool of oddly colored blood, and treating a wound he'd brought upon himself.

”First we're gonna have to remove it. It's gonna hurt like hell, I'm warning you.“ ”Okay,“ Jamison whispered, bracing. And it did. But all throughout, he heard Kai. ”You're doing great“ ”Hang tight, we're nearly done“

Then the pain stopped pulsating, and he heard something metallic hit the floor. ”It's out,“ Kai said as he was applying pressure on his wound. ”Thank you“ ”No need to,“ the doc interrupted him softly.

Jamison breathed. He was going to live. Fuck.

He zoned out during the rest of the process. He was tired, but he knew he couldn't fall asleep yet. he listened to the doc tell him random things, trying to answer, in an affort to stay conscious.

After a while, Kai stood up. Jamie, feeling movement, focused his eyes. He was covered in blood. “Can I ask you something personal, James?” “It's Jamison.” “What?” “It's Jamison,” he repeated. “James just sounds more ”hunter-like according to them. I prefer Jamison“ ”Okay, thank you for letting me know, Jamison. Can I ask you a personal question?“ ”Shoot.“ ”Do people know?“ Jamison frowned. ”That you're… No longer human?“ ”Ah, yes.“ ”Good to know“ ”I'm not- not dangerous, i promise, he chocked out. ”I know“ ”I w-won't hurt you, s-so please don't be scared-' “I know, and I'm not.” “You promise?” he felt silly, but he needed to know they meant it, needed to know they'd stay. “I promise, Jamison. Now, considering this place's state- How about you spend the night in my room? I'll sleep ion the sofa.” Jamison blinked up at them. “I want to make sure it heals well and nothing else happens,” they added. He nodded. ”Thanks Doc, 'm so grateful-” “Kai. Call me Kai, okay Jamison?“ ”Okay. Thanks Kai“ ”Anytime.“

[the-whvmp-dvmp]

AMOW Trope-a-thon Day 2

someone is not having a good time. sorry makoa! i quite like this one actually, it was fun X3

Word count: 1560

CW: Pet whump, electrocution, shock collar blood, vomit mentions (no real descriptions), creepy whumper, conditioning, dehumanization, brainwashing, petnames (literally!), big whumpee, big whumper, defiant whumpee

Prompt: Day 2 - Captivity ; Creepy whumper, conditioning, pet whump

Since arriving at the facility, Makoa had punched, kicked, scratched, kicked, and bitten just about every worker that had gone near him. He seethed in his cage, far too small for his large stature. He had no choice but to sit on his knees. The three workers assigned to him stared at him, unsure what to do.

"How are we supposed to train someone that easily beats the crap out of us when we even get too close?" The tallest of them spoke, holding a cup of coffee near his face. "He's not just fighting. He tries to beat us into a pulp everytime."

The smallest of them sighed, rubbing their side softly. "I know, I thought my kidney was gonna burst. At least he'll be a good guard dog."

"I think the challenge is kinda fun," the woman spoke up. The tall man scoffed as he put his cup down.

"Of course you do. You're the one that gets to hold the taser." The woman opened her mouth to retort, but the door swung open and they all straightened. His presence was so intimidating, they could tell who it was without looking.

Jack Huntington, built like a linebacker at 6'3 and 230 pounds. He wore an all black suit, real gold rings on his fingers. Makoa slammed against the cage, glaring at the man. It was not their first meeting.

"Fuck you! Let me out of this fucking cage, you disgusting excuse of !" He rammed against the cage again, targeting the side with the lock.

"Poor puppy. If you want it so badly." He pulled out the keys, bending to unlock Makoa's enclosure. Predictably, the man charged out and lunged at Jack, but the woman worker pressed the taser to his back. He spasmed and fell to the floor, twitching. "You'll learn your lesson. They always do."

Jack kneeled, signalling the small worker over. They complied, grabbing the back of Makoa's head and lifting it up. Makoa groaned against the strain it put in his neck. The boss clipped a collar around his neck, brushing the skin there as he pulled away. "Handsome puppy." Makoa genuinely retched, squirming on the ground. He needed to get the fuck away from this sicko. "This is just a training collar since you can't stop misbehaving. It looks like I'll have to personally oversee your training."

He stood up and the worker hauled Makoa up as well, obviously struggling. Makoa became dead weight in their arms, causing them to stumble and almost fall face first into the floor. Jack clicked his tongue and slipped a simple remote out of his pocket, pressing the single red button.

Makoa's nerves lit up all over as the prongs from the collar electrocuted him. It was worse than the taser. He screamed in torment, withering desperately, limbs flailing uncontrollably. It didn't stop until Jack lifted his thumb off the button and he could faintly hear the laughter coming from the other man through the blooding rushing in his ears. Makoa panted heavily, drool dripping onto the floor beneath him as he struggled to regain control of his limbs.

"Get the message now?" Makoa cleared his throat, gathering saliva in his throat until he spat it out with force at Jack's feet, narrowly avoiding his designer loafers. He watched as said loafer rose until it pressed against his head and shoved him into the tiles. Something in his forehead cracked and he yelped, gritting his teeth against the pain. Still worth it.

Makoa stood next to the scummy man, dwarfing him in comparison. Standing at 6'10, with his stoic face, he was almost as intimidating as the man to his right.

The walk to this room was uneventful, as he decided it'd be better if he didn't act out *too* much. He wondered if these people had any qualms about killing him or the others he knew they kidnapped. Didn't matter what terminology they liked to use, they were kidnapping people.

"Finally, the fun part." Makoa shivered, suddenly feeling chilly. Jack had seemed flippant before, but now he sounded cruel. Like he knew how much this would hurt and he liked it that way.

What could he mean by fun part? He already had been prodded roughly by the workers, spoken down to, beaten, even whipped once. And he'd only been here a few weeks. Makoa knew of the reason he was here, the workers weren't shy in telling him. He thought they liked the look in his eyes when they told him he would be turned into a dog for others to use how they see fit. He didn't understand how that was to be achieved, but this must be it.

"In the chair." The male and female lackeys from before each grabbed one of Makoa's arms, the woman pressing the taser against his back in warning. He followed begrudgingly, sneering at them. If he was shocked one more time, he was sure his heart would stop.

He was restrained against the chair, steel cuffs cold against his skin. Directly in front of him was a TV screen. Were they really going to tape his eyes open and make him watch brainwashing videos?

"Enjoy the show, dog." Makoa thrashed against his restraints at that. Jack chuckled in response, gesturing at the screen. "You'll be watching our training videos. You'll watch them until you give in." Jack pulled up a chair and sat diagonally to the man. He shook the remote in his hand. "If I see your eyes closed, you get punished. If you're good, you'll get a reward at the end." The screen turned on as the boss got settled, smoothing out his blazer.

Dear god, these people were genuinely insane. They actually wanted to turn him into a dog. He looked at the restraints, but there was absolutely no way he was getting out. Maybe the videos would be short.

Soon enough, Makoa concluded he needed to do whatever possible to get the fuck out of this place. It must've been *hours*. He sat in front of the screen and watched the videos over and over again. His throat was dry, his stomach growling. He wanted to cry.

Makoa shook his head back and forth repeatedly, listening to the stupid voice from the TV. How to properly behave as a pet, affirmations like "You live to serve your master", "Always obey", and "You are beneath the humans". Jack grinned and watched him for a bit before speaking up.

"Tapping out, puppy?" He held the remote in his left hand, thumb smoothing over the button. Makoa felt his heart rate pick up significantly. He took a shaky breath, scooting his body around the chair.

"Let me out," he demanded, or rather, tried to. His voice was weak and it cracked on the last word. He needed water.

"What are you?" Jack suddenly asked, keeping his cold, detached eyes on Makoa's.

"A human being with a life and friends, freak. My name is Makoa Iona and I—!"

Agony. The scream tore from his throat, leaving it raw as every muscle in his body tensed so tight he feared they would snap. Or, he *would* fear that if his mind wasn't so preoccupied with the horrible fucking *pain*.

"I said what are you?" Jack stood up as the affirmations replayed in the background.

Makoa spasmed, back arching as much as the restraints allowed. The female worker watched in concern, stepping forward slightly.

"S-sir, you're gonna kill him—"

"Shut up." He let go of the button regardless. He gripped Makoa's chin tightly, shaking his head for him. "Dumb dog. What are you?"

Makoa seethed in silence, glaring at him hard. Jack pulled his hand back before punching the other square in the jaw. Makoa harshly exhaled, mouth twisting in a grimace. He spit onto the ground, a glob of blood landing on the tile. More blood rushed into his mouth, as he realized a tooth had been knocked loose. It was hanging on by a thread.

"It'll only get worse from here. I have so many ideas, pet. You seem so tough to break, but you're just like the others. A few mean words and a couple days of pain, you'll be grovelling at my feet. You fucking mutt."

Makoa breathed heavily, eyes unfocused. Jack reached his hand out and a baton was placed into it. He thrusted it forward into Makoa's stomach, where he knew a huge dark bruise had formed. He folded in on himself and dry heaved, but of course there was no food to come up. His throat burned and the bile rising up wasn't helping.

"Just say it and I'll go easy on you during the training. Be my good dog."

The huge man looked small in the chair, a mixture of drool and blood spilling down his chin and tears collecting in his eyes. A pathetic sob escaped past his lips and he heaved once more, thrashing against the restricting steel once more before his body went limp.

"...I'm a dog. A dumb dog. A... a pet." His upper lip curled, but he said it. He wanted to die.

Jack's mouth unfurled in a horrible, smug smile. He rubbed his thumb across the pet's hair, right behind his ear.

"There we go. You'll be so easy to train."

[ajcrwl]

coding adventures part++

it's been a little over a month since the last one. i'm almost done with building some basic stuff including comments!

last time comments were completely non-existent. i had already picked a text editor which i wanted to use, but it was so hard to understand how to configure it, so i switched to tinmyce.

i added it to the page and started figuring out what i wanted to do with the design:

i immediately somehow made the toolbar become a rainbow that changes colours, and decided to keep it that way 😂

took me a while to figure out how to implement character count, submit button and notify button all within the editor's toolbar. but honestly, tinymce is so good, their docs describe pretty much everything i needed, so it was only a matter of learning what it can offer and figuring out how i could use it.

what you see above was just a bunch of lorem ipsum coded directly into the page. so the next step was to write the whole post -> save -> display pipeline and show some actual comments.

why use lorem ipsum when you can adfadsfsdfsdadf ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

then i did the thing which i always wanted to add: my own emotes! btw, we use all of these plague doctors and others in my discord, and i keep drawing more and more of them.

and then i tried to use them along with a better emoji font, and uhh

oops xD yes, you can stretch an image, even an emote, but you can't unstretch it back and return it to its original proportions.

figured out how to ban people, because honestly, no comment form should be released in the wild without the ability to restrict annoying users, you know? x)

and another thing which i figured out: how to make emotes big if there's no text next to them. same as in discord. took me about half an hour ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

now i'm fixing bugs and adding some small unseen things here and there.

the next step will be uploading all of this to the live website and testing there.

and after that.. whooo boooy, do i have so many more features planned. just some of them off the top of my head:

display names. that bit in lighter text before "@ yourname". i want to let people set a different name.

upload your own avatar.

badges. currently only a moderator has a badge. i want to add badges for people who support me on Boosty too.

non-email notifications. i get only 1000 free emails from mailgun, and we could quickly run out if everyone subscribes to reply notifications. however, i learnt to keep my expectations low, so this may never happen due to low engagement (sadge). some non-email options via bots could be: discord, telegram.

ability to keep track of your own comments.

profile pages to look at other people's profiles?

linking tumblr/discord/etc/whatever. still need to think how i could use that. maybe link your tumblr, so that people could see your blog? or for alt login options.

btw, none of this will be ever released as a stand-alone piece of software. it's heavily linked to my current cms framework, so i can't be arsed to separate it, and also i have no idea what i'm doing 😎

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

here's the first post

ps. managed to fix a few bugs while writing this post :)

[clumsyhissingcat]

No. 2 : Altprompt / Finding Old Messages

OC Whump

Hi, here is my second contribution for Whumptober !

A bit of context : Edwin is a human who, following a traumatic event involving enemies of Silver (his friend), has made a pact with a god. He became a servant of a god responsible for guiding the souls of the dead and their memories. This gave him the power he needed to take revenge, but the pact also stipulated that with each use of the god's power, he would lose a little more of his memories, his friends, his life, etc...

Also, I just want to specify that « L’Ensorceleur » is the french translation for « The Sorcerer », but I’m way too used to the French word to change it.  

If you have any questions, I'd obviously be more than happy to answer! Also, English isn't my first language, so i apologize for any mistake. Check the tags for any TW and enjoy !

There's a narrow space under the single bed. A dark crevice where nothing lives but dust motes, a few forgotten tissues and a surprisingly clean sock...?

A hand suddenly appears under the bed, groping for something. Finally, after a long minute that only earned the owner a tissue and a sneeze, a body slumped at the foot of the bed and a disheveled brown head with piercing blue eyes peered out from under the bed. The sock was promptly retrieved as soon as it was spotted, but just as the teenager who had just grabbed it was about to get up and go (now shod) about his business, his gaze fell on the last inhabitant of the place.

Edwin raised an eyebrow at the sight of a notebook under his bed. It had probably fallen there by accident. Well, this was no place to keep a notebook. Might as well remove it.

After a series of unsuccessful attempts and the use of a broom to dislodge the reluctant object, Edwin found himself with a black leather notebook, bound with a sturdy red thread. Beautifully designed, elegant, even if the scratches on the weathered leather showed it had lived.

Probably one of the dozens of old notebooks he kept. He'd always been a keen draughtsman, even if he hadn't taken to it as much recently. The cities of the old kingdom teemed with spirits and souls that demanded his attention. He no longer had as much time to do the things he loved, such as drawing, as well as other passions. Fatigue weighed too heavily on his bones.

He thought of taking a look at its contents out of curiosity. But he had a program for the day, a handful of lost souls who needed assistance to find rest and stop mingling with the mortals of this plane.

A servant of the Gods was only an extension of the one he served, after all. Even so, Edwin's situation was nothing like that of a normal servant, left to his duty without guidance, depending on where his own footsteps took him most of the time, when he wasn't spending time with his friends, when he returned to the city where they lived. His friends, like Silver and Léa...

The young man pushed aside the superficial thought and placed his find on the bedside table. He'd have plenty of time to consult it when he returned tonight.

The Beacon left his room without looking back.

*

He didn't think about it immediately on the way back. He was almost ready for bed, mentally exhausted by the afflictions of the ghosts he had assisted.

But a battered leather cover caught his eye. He stared at the innocent notebook for a moment, fatigue heavy on his eyelids. Then he reached out and pulled the booklet towards him, noticing layers tucked between the pages. Pictures ? Photos from Earth ? He was almost tempted to unravel this peculiar mystery on the spot, but Edwin had always been reasonable.

-You look a bit familiar.  Let's see what's into you, murmured the young man, gently turning the front cover.

Disappointingly, the first page of the notebook, velvety if yellowed, was covered with abstract scribbles in his own hand. Little more than a decoration, pretty and eye-catching, a prelude to most of his sketchbooks.

He searched for a date, but couldn't find it. Before he takes on the habit of indicating the date, then.

The second page featured a pencil sketch of a superb trotting horse. The sketch had a raw air, intentional or not, and managed to convey the animal's power.

The next page was a drawing of two people napping in the sun, colored in soft hues. It took Edwin a long moment to recognize Silver and Nathan, or another name in the same style. After all, they weren't that close anymore...

The next following pages were just as normal, people he more or less remembered, people he would probably have to visit soon. They'd drifted apart a bit, but they'd gotten along well at one time. Becoming a servant of a God had forced him to leave the region more often than he would have liked.

Then, on the page following a sketch of a dragon of slightly exaggerated proportions compared to reality (he knew this, even if he couldn't remember the creature itself), he came across a note. Not his own, in airy script, in faded turquoise-blue ink.

“Hey, Eddie ! Just to remind you, the gang and I made you a little memo to remind you a little of who you are. Since we talked about it not too long ago, you and I decided to create this notebook for you. You can use it as a memo of the things we've been through together, what you like and what we like about you, to tell you about us, the memories you may have forgotten. Oh, we've included dates and photos too, so don't panic ! Hope that helps. And remember, we all love you. Kisses and hurry back !”

It's signed Lea, and Edwin's heart beats hard in his chest. He stares at the message for a moment, not knowing what to make of it. Then, fingers trembling, he turned the page.

He was greeted by a photo of a dark-haired man with sun-kissed skin and bright eyes. His smile, on the close-up photo, conveyed an infectious joy.

“Hey Edwin,” said the note underneath. “It's Silver, your friend. Lea said we could tell anyone we wanted, so I'm going for it! Remember when I told you I was a wizard/werewolf ? It was at night, in September I think, and I'd just climbed in through your brother's window...”

What follows is an elaborate description of what happened that night, followed by a quick introspection of Silver's feelings towards Edwin, and ends with one of those “I love you” that comes so easily to him and an invitation to come back soon.

Eleanora is more careful in the way she writes, as she has always been in the way she is. The weight of her father's sins is felt in every word she addresses to him, every apology for what he has become. But the first memory she shares is warm and light, and leaves a longing in Edwin's chest.

The Ensorceleur’s message is hidden by a piece of paper taped over it. Some of the others have done this too, on messages of a more sensitive or private nature. This message is not sensitive, at least not in the usual sense. It’s filled with an honesty that the man rarely shows in the presence of an audience, and reminds him of an old promise. There's an invitation to return and a thinly veiled threat that revives other memories, some scarier than others and some full of reluctant affection. Sounds like him.

(Another message, coded as if it were a secret, is just a long list of colorful, imaginative insults that make him laugh.)

Some are more...difficult. Lucien's, or Valka's, give him a fairly precise idea of the emotions he's supposed to be feeling, but he doesn't actually feel them. It helps him situate their relationship from an intellectual point of view, but without feeling, everything remains cold and clinical. And that fills him with an all-consuming guilt that twists and turns in his stomach. Even the photos don't mean anything to him.

Nathaniel shares personal things about himself and what he's apparently entrusted to Edwin over the years, and hot tears roll down the Beacon’s cheeks.

Kara's page carries a strange smell of burnt wood and ashes, and a tender story of how she fell in love with someone. Tomas talks about the warmth of home and the person who convinced him he was worthy of love.

Kylsham talks about a trip they took together, and suddenly Edwin becomes aware that he's craving for a fruit he can't find here.

The notebook revives faded memories, makes him aware of others that have disappeared, and awakens emotions he now realizes he'd forgotten. The pages are worn, the words faded and the paper thinned by flipping through. How many times did he reread this diary before misplacing it ? How long has the notebook been under the bed, as forgotten as these memories ? What did he miss ? The dates make him dizzy.

All the messages have one thing in common. They all ask him to come back and see them when he can.

His mind made up, Edwin barely takes the time to put on a coat before leaving the inn, notebook under arm and ghost in step.

Whatever the pact with the god has stolen he will never fully recover. But he can try to delay the inevitable as long as possible. 

Edwin heads for home.

[farmergadda]

....part 3????????? I thought this site was for longform content.

See, here's the thing. None of these ideas were bad. I still think there is a space for a low numbers, scaling success based Adventure Game that doesn't glorify violence or build it's world on the accrued bullshit dnd has over the decades, while still scratching the itch people have for whatever they think 5e is. But a Lasers and Feelings hack? For long-term, Campaign play, as a printed product for a general audience and NOT a heavily tailored experience for a handful of the same 6 weirdos in a DIGIMON FAN SERVER? Absolutely not. It was literally never going to happen. That June, I added some pretty graphics to the WIP I had and released it as a Sonic-themed Fangame, Chaos & Control. People messaged me asking for clarification I couldn't give, as I'd already overhauled or entirely REMOVED sections I realized didn't work. I tried for 2 years, adding in stricter combat rules, rewriting all passive abilities to read more like Fate Aspects, at one point I removed Gear and Items as concepts in the game ENTIRELY, because it implied a desire to go out and Get More Stuff, which could lead to Dungeon Crawling and. That's no way to write a game. You can't focus on what it SHOULDN'T be, just because that thing is too close to the game you've been banging on about for years as being bad. At one point I almost gave up and just bought a set of OSE Rulebooks, planning to ignore the vestigial uncomfy bits from OG B/X. So now, it's November of 2023. I have re-written the entire body of this document at least 8 times. I don't think it's playable, but, just like the previous 7 attempts, I feel really good about this direction. Sometimes, especially in game design, you have to admit to yourself what you're ACTUALLY doing here. I'm not writing the game that will lead to me joining the upper echelons of Bluesky TTRPG Posting, with appearances at conventions selling physical copies of my hit new product. I'm not starting a new IP that will finally make people take me seriously as a creator and not a third rate vtuber with opinions on math rocks. I'm not even writing a groundbreaking new twist on the popular one page formula of Lasers and Feelings. I'm writing a Heartbreaker. You can be a Sonic in it. Maybe you could go Super Saiyan if you really wanted. Mario is there. And I'm finally kinda ok with that.

Im at the point with my heartbreaker that if anybody asked me, genuinely or otherwise, why they should play My Game over a staple like 5e, my only response is "fuck you, that's why"

[mandareeboo]

Ooh Drabble prompt - Reagan gets hurt protecting Brett, she’s bad at asking for help but he helps anyway because friendship :)

"Okay," Reagan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Who the fuck gave ROBOTUS a gun? No, scratch that- who the fuck gave ROBOTUS's treadmill a robot arm to hold the gun?"

"Who do you think?" ROBOTUS hummed, incredibly smug with himself. "For someone who calls himself a genius, Rand is remarkably petty. He promised me total freedom if I took out your entire little gang." He aimed the laser at Brett, a few feet away, who swallowed heavily. "Told me to not let you know it was him, but, hey. I figured I owed you that much for keeping me alive."

Reagan's hand went to her tote bag. "I'm gonna kill 'em."

"That's my line, I'm afraid."

Things happen in quick succession.

If there's one thing Reagan's learned in her time with Cognito, it's that it's easier to let her body do the thinking during moments like these. Adrenaline is designed specifically to keep the body alive, and she knows that even if she doesn't quite know what to do, the part of her brain that came from LSD-driven monkeys did. So she listened to that, genius be damned.

She grabbed the mobile EMP she'd designed for this eventuality.

ROBOTUS fired.

Reagan jumped in front of the blast, taking it to the hip- for all his bragging, the robot had been given a fairly rudimentary limb, something she'd counted on.

Reagan set the EMP off.

ROBOTUS went down with an elongated, "Nooooooooo!"

Panting with exertion- jesus christ, how did people move all the time every day?- Reagan put the EMP in her bag, pulled off her coat, and went about tying it around her waist, hoping to put pressure on the wound. "Alright, someone put this fucker in his fish tank. He's on time out for a week. I'll go give the president a piece of my mind in a bit."

A hand grabbed her shoulder. Reagan, not expecting the contact, immediately slapped it away. She turned and registered bright orange hair. Oh. Right. She'd been right in front of him.

"Reagan," he whispered, looking choked up. "Reagan, are you-"

"I'm fine," she snapped. Reagan started the arduous journey of gimping towards her lab with a muttered swear. Brett speed-walked beside her, looking more than a little green. "Give me five minutes to seal this up and I'll be back to work."

"Back to wo- Reagan, we gotta get you to the hospital."

"Nothing they can do for me that I can't do here for cheaper." Reagan didn't specialize in medicine, but she knew the human body inside and out. She knew how to cauterize and stitch things up. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, either. Hell, it wasn't even the first time this month.

It just... wasn't usually this public, she supposed. Maybe that was why he looked so worried. Reagan didn't peg him as hemophobic.

"Okay, okay," Brett said, doing that placating gesture he did when he thought Reagan was being difficult. Reagan scowled, but couldn't exactly argue that she wasn't, either. "We'll go to your lab. Just take it easy. I don't think you're supposed to move like this."

Probably not, she thinks. Fair enough.

The initial blast of cold air that welcomes Reagan to her lab is invigorating, regardless of the circumstances. She felt herself relax almost immediately- this was her place, made with nothing but her ideals and wishes, and it was the only spot in the entire goddamn universe she could feel completely comfortable in. Even in severe distress, a smile flickered across her lips, unbidden, before quickly falling away. It was only really hers until Rand decided it wasn't worth the time, or Reagan did something to piss him off, or a godforsaken mix of the two.

"Okay," Brett said- again- and Reagan hadn't noticed his hand on her elbow until he was guiding her to the little office chair she kept on the side for when paperwork was due. "You just sit down and tell me what to do, alright? I'll make whatever you need. You can make fun of my piss-poor science skills and everything."

"Brett, I can do this by myself-" she started to say, only to be cut off by a very firm squeeze.

"Goddamn it, Reagan," Brett exploded, gently sitting her down, "You just took a bullet for me. I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself more when I can help. Just... let me, okay?"

Reagan paused, a bit taken aback. Brett wasn't exactly free of curses, but he didn't typically direct them at her, either. This was personal to him. Her injury was personal to him.

That means, her brain told her slowly, as if this was simple math and she was a creature was beyond understanding it, that your physical safety is personal to him. Which is, is all honesty, probably the most clinical "he gives a shit" Reagan has ever heard.

But, still.

She's never had someone stay before.

"...Okay," she said, voice softening, even as her free hand gripped the office desk with barely restrained agony. "Here's what we're gonna do."

[enigma-im]

Tenth day of Christmas...

Trope: Soulmate

Relationship: Alien x Human

Word count: 5,282

A lazy Saturday night. No responsibilities, nowhere to be, just me, and my tv. I quickly change into my pajamas, ready to plop myself on the couch for the rest of the day. Grabbing my phone on the way out of my room I swipe through messages, ignoring a great portion of them in favor of total isolation. Just me and my shows tonight.

A chill runs over my neck before I hit my shin against something hard. Arching forward I cradle my leg with a restrained curse barely sitting on the tip of my tongue. I look down at the sudden coffee table before me, it's bright white design polar opposite to my dark aesthetic in my home. I glance around the room, running cold at the unfamiliar environment. Everything is bright and illuminated, the furniture the only dark thing in here besides the baseboards lining the walls. I gawk in utter confusion.

"Who are you," someone barks, rolling into a growl. I snap my attention to some…thing standing just behind me. I twist towards them quickly, taking a few steps back as I take them in. Tall is my first thought, followed closely by bright. The creature is an alluring shade of blue, a mix of dark and light around its face. The top of its head is skin like hair that looks slicked back. It's almost like dreadlocks in their thickness. Average looking human eyes but a long mouth with thin lips. If it wasn't for the human-like stature I'd assume this was some sort of monster. The clothes are a slightly comforting touch. All around it's a rather disgusting looking man…alien…monster…thing.

He takes a threatening step towards me, shouting again," Who are you? How did you get into my home?" I choke on an answer, still confused and lost. Jerking my head here and there I take in the room, still just as weirded out. Where am I? who is this thing? I curl into myself, panting heavily as I panic. The thing takes another step, catching my attention again.

"Answer me, human," he spits the words," How did you get here?" I flounder for an answer, gawking like a fish as I try to talk.

"I-I-I," I try to speak," don't know." He recoils at the answer, before looking stricken. His lips peel back into a snarl, showing off sharp intimidating teeth. I nearly whimper at the sight, feeling like prey at this moment. He charges at me.

"Out, out, out," he shouts. I take frantic steps back till my back hits a wall. He corners me easily, grabbing at my shoulders. I shut my eyes, clenching up for the oncoming attack.

I'm greeted with silence.

I peek open my eyes to see my familiar bedroom. Uncertain, I curl my hands against my chest and look around the room. I see my bed, my vanity, the slightly ajar door to my bathroom. There is no sight of the alien man. I quickly bolt to my closet, grabbing my bat before checking the apartment. I walk to every room, ready to take on the horrid monster.

I clock out of work, heading to my car. Hooking up my phone I jam out to some tunes while I sort my work attire out. Setting my name tag in the cup holder and tossing the apron to the passenger seat. Before I can press the brakes I see a light bright enough for me to force my eyes closed. I feel my seat sink, a weightless feeling taking me for a moment. I open my eyes.

Coming up empty I manage to circle back to my room, confused and hurt. I rub at my chest, trying to ease this great discomfort. Setting the bat by the door I curl up in bed, forgoing my lazy Saturday night.

It's weeks after the incident and I'm left feeling like it was all a dream. There were no odd moments after that one, surely it was some strange mishap of imagination. I actually begin to forget it as the month comes to an end, though a strange emptiness stirs in my stomach. The feeling is worse at night, leaving me to cuddle with my pillows to ease it minorly.

I look into the barely familiar room, clenching onto the armrest to a chair. Terrified I look all around, spotting the strange man in a small kitchenette. We make eye contact, both of us startled. He recovers faster than I.

"You! What are you doing back in my house," he shouts, storming over. I sink further into the seat, nails biting into the wooden rests.

"I don't kn-," I try to explain.

"I don't want you here, how are you coming back," he barks, angrier than our first meeting. I try to explain again but he shouts over me. His words are harsh, accusing me of things I didn't do. As I attempt to speak over him he just gets louder till I feel near tears with all the stress.

"Stop coming here, I don't want you," he grabs at my hand," how did you manage to get in here in the first place? Humans do not possess the wit to get here on their own, so tell! Answer me! How did you get here?" I tug on my arm, trying to get out of his grip.

"I don't know," I scream," I don't know, so please stop yelling at me." I feel ridiculous as I'm near tears but I feel the situation calls for it on some level. I didn't mean to be here, it's not my fault.

The man stumbles at my shout, letting me go as he takes a step back. I curl into myself, wrapping my arms around my body, and tuck my feet up on the chair. He watches me, angry but lost. I glare up at him, fighting back the stinging in my eyes. My chest feels sore.

"I don't know where I am and I just want to go home," I plead, gritting my teeth. He furrows his brow, sneering as he reaches out and touches my arm. Before I can attempt to fight back I'm back in my car.

Looking around the dark parking lot I fall lax once I realize my position. I whimper as an ache squeezes at my chest. Leaning forward and banging my head on the steering wheel I take a deep breath, then a few more.

There is sadly a next time.

Can't write that one off as a dream.

I wait for the next few days anxiously. Trying to convince myself of 'two is a coincidence, three's a pattern' does little to soothe me. I could only hope that those two incidents were flukes. My nerves try to get the best of me but I know better. I get angry every time I think back, mad at how some harsh words could get me near tears. No man, alien or otherwise, is allowed to get such an upper hand on me. I promise myself indifference the next time I see that jerk.

I'm taken from my shower, to my misfortune. Covered only in a towel I stand in the bright living room, flustered and angry. The alien stands before me, arms crossed as he gives me a once over. As his gaze meets mine he quirks his brow. I tighten the towel around myself, glaring all the while.

"Caught you at a bad time I see," he says nearly bored. I huff, walking around the chair to hide my lower self. As I twist around I catch him tilting his head to follow me with his eyes. I snap my fingers at him, catching his attention. "send me back," I demand. He recoils in disgust at my command.

"No, I'm not some servant to make a request from. Also, I need to talk with you," he answers. I scoff, twisting away. Talk with me? Does this conversation involve more yelling and blame? I'm wet, cold, and flustered. I've been tense all week waiting for this exact moment to happen and I rather not spend another second here.

"No," I grumble.

"Excuse me," he bites back. I turn towards him, sneering.

"No, I don't want to talk with you. Send me back and keep it that way," I growl, a tad proud at the sudden backbone I've grown. He scoffs, shifting weight to his other leg.

"Do you believe that I intend for you to keep coming back," he asks the rhetorical question," because trust me, I don't want you around as much as you don't want to be around."

"Oh really? Haven't noticed," I tease," you have been so friendly up until now."

He rolls his eyes," sarcasm, such a low form of wit." I bite my tongue from throwing a remark back.

"Doesn't matter, send me back," I demand.

"Not until we talk," he shoots back. I tense in pure frustration. I'm near-naked and confused, I don't need this right now. Twisting away from him I fold my arms over my chest. He can talk if he wants but I don't have to answer.

The alien sighs," if I give you something to wear then will you talk with me?" I check on him from the corner of my eye. He looks as tired as I feel at that moment. Reluctantly I nod.

He exits the room, coming back shortly with a long shirt. Handing it to me he turns around, leaving me to put the shirt on and tying the towel around my waist. I sit in the chair as he sits on the couch. The silence is almost as bad as the yelling. I clear my throat, trying to bait him into speaking first. He sighs.

"Well I think the best way to start is with an introduction," he shrugs," I'm Egil, a Birger."

"Hello Egil," I wave awkwardly, dropping my arm quickly," I'm Kari, a human. I think you knew that part though."

"yea," he scratches at his neck," I wanna make a deal with you, Kari. We are in a bit of a bind that makes this little teleporting thing common. You see, we are important to one another according to a much higher power. I never chose this, let you know that now, and I'd prefer it if this little…situation… wasn't permeant." I squint at him, confused.

"What?"

He sighs, rubbing at his face," my people have a very interesting power that most of the galaxy favors. With that power comes a 'blessing' that brings another being to us when the time is right. Now I thought this someone would be a, well, another Birger. That's clearly not right so I just have to make do. So I'm asking for you to bear with this little inconvenience for a little longer until it runs its course and we can go our separate ways."

I process his words, rolling them around in my head. A special someone? Am I the special someone? What does he mean by 'run its course'? I think of a proper way to articulate my words to get across how utterly lost I am in this conversation. I look between his beautiful lavender eyes.

"What?"

He drops his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes harshly before he snaps," you are my mate and if we wait a bit then you will stop being sent to me. So I ask can we just be civil until this stops?"

I taste the words on my tongue," Soulmate?"

He rests his chin on his hand," sure, soulmates. That's not the point, do you agree to be civil until this all blows over?" my brain flips flops. I take a moment to actually let the words settle before I speak. I cross my legs, resting my elbow on my knees and leaning forward.

"So you have soulmates and you think I'm them-,"

"You are," he interrupts.

"- so you want to ignore it because of why exactly?"

"Because it won't work, obviously," he answers casually.

I quirk a brow," because I'm human or because you can see the future?"

He snorts, recoiling in mirth," do you want to be my mate?"

"No, of course not. I'm just asking because I know like thousands of people who would be jumping for joy in this situation and I'm trying to see if you don't see me as an option because your racist," I tease, baiting him a bit. He deadpans, not amused in the slightest.

"Deal or not, Kari," he asks.

"Yea, sure, whatever," I wave him off," are we done now? I'm catching a chill."

The few long conversations we have had were surprisingly pleasant. When he isn't being a grump he can be downright enjoyable to be around. I can almost see how we could work together but I trash that idea when he starts getting snappy again.

He scoffs," yea, sure." standing he reaches over and touches my shoulder, sending me back home.

The next month is filled with annoying moments of being sent away. At first, it was mainly when I was at home, which was better than later when I was sent from work. In those moments Egil is kind enough to promptly send me back. In my more relaxed moments, he pulls me into a conversation, though he sounds bored with it most of the time. I look on the bright side of these meetings, learning what I can about him and aliens.

I try to go on with my life as normal, going out with friends and shopping when I can. I've been blessed to not be taken away in front of everyone. Almost like the teleporting has some know-how on good times and bad times. Though the shower one will never be forgiven.

Lounging against Egil's couch I listen to him explain how his planet's seasons work. It was started with me complaining about the cold in my apartment. He seems to be in a better mood today, talking animatedly about his favorite season. I admire him, finding the twinkle in his eye charming.

"You know when you aren't being a grouch you are nice to be around," I say casually as he takes a short pause in his rant. He stumbles on his next words, turning to me confused.

"What? You think I'm a grouch," he asks.

I shrug, laying against the couch," you get in your feelings a lot and it tends to spoil a meeting."

"In my feelings? I don't follow."

I watch him fidget a bit," you seem to sulk into yourself and I can't get you out of it no matter how much baiting I do. I prefer it when you are speaking animated like right now. You seem to enjoy talking about science and the inner workings of your planet. It's nice." he flusters at the compliment. His cheeks turn a strange dusty purple. I smile to myself at the sight.

"Well, science is entertaining but many people don't care to listen to it often. I can't blame them, I can see how hearing someone ramble for hours about biology and the workings of plants during different temperatures. It's just so cool how the weather can drastically change how a tree will present itself. I mean it just knows the correct way to arrange itself to get the most it can from the sun and I ju-," he glances over at me, sighing," sorry, I'm rambling."

I wave him off," no, go on. I have nothing to do tonight and spending it alone in my apartment doesn't sound too exciting."

He chuckles," glad to hear I'm more entertaining than an empty living space."

Friday night I dress to the nines, truly trying my best. I'm not really optimistic about this becoming more than one date but a girl can try a little. I meet the guy at a set location, agreeing to walk together to dinner. When I see him I'm in awe at his look and my luck. I might owe my friend an apology and a thank you.

I shrug, gesturing for him to continue his rant. My chest feels a bit full when I hear him speak, which is far better than the empty feeling I gain when I'm sent home.

My friend kindly notices my melancholy as of late and sets me up on a cringey blind date. I couldn't help the depressed state I've been in lately. When she offered such a plan I was extremely reluctant. A blind date is for the sad and lonely, or socially impaired. I guess I would fall into one of the categories. I agree after a bit of encouragement.

We talk on the way to the restaurant, the conversation bright and exciting. The empty feeling I've felt lately is bearable in this man's presence. We get our seats and continue talking all through dinner. I'm tempted to invite him up to my apartment. Couldn't hurt to see where this will go.

I excuse myself to the bathroom before we leave. As I open the door I see the bright room I've gotten used to. My shoulders drop as I walk further inside looking for Egil.

"Egil," I call. I hear a creak behind me, twisting around I see Egil staring intently at my dress. Relieved, I step over to him," hey, I was in the middle of something important. Can you send me back?" he takes a moment to actually look up at me, quirking a brow.

"You look…fancy," he says his words carefully.

"Yea, I'm on a date. So can you send me back please," I ask again. His eyes trail down to my dress again, his head tilting as he appraises me. As my words sink in he snaps his attention back to me.

"A date," he frowns," with who?"

"A friend of a friend. I don't have time to talk, he is waiting outside right now. So please," I reach for him. My hand falls on his wrist, tugging him forward. He follows, looking a mix of frustrated and confused.

"Where are you two going," he asks instead of grabbing my shoulders. I huff.

"My place, now please," I shake his hand. He swats me away.

"Why you two going to your place," he asks like an upset father.

"Egil, I'm not going to spell it out for you. Now, please," I reach for him again. He grips my wrists, a tad too hard. His gritting teeth are the last thing I see before I'm back at the bathroom. I walk in feeling sick to my stomach. Passing the mirror I look at myself for a second.

It's a long while before I get sent back to him and it's a rather strange time. I head to bed that night, snuggling up in my sheets.

Why was he so angry?

I don't meet up with my date again after that night. After the meeting with Egil, I feel a little mixed up. He is always a grump, that's normal, but this time was more than mild annoyance. Was he angry with me? That idea picks at me. Why would he be angry?

I wake shortly later to some loud thud. Groaning I twist on my bed, running into a wall I wasn't prepared for. Confused, I look at the couch I'm strewn across. I sit up looking around the dimly lit white room.

"Egil," I call out tired. I get no answer. Getting up off the couch I step around towards the kitchenette spotting Egil sitting on the floor lounging against the cabinets. "Egil," I catch his attention. He bobs his head up, smacking it lightly against the wood behind him.

"Oh, great, it's you," he pulls a drink up to his lips," how was your date." he spits the words. I take in the scene before me, Egil sitting disorganized on the floor with an unknown bottle in hand. He sways a bit, looking distraught.

"Are you drunk," I ask.

He chuckles," of course. What else is there to do at a time like this?"

"Sleep, if I had to suggest something," I joke, more nervous than amused right now. He snorts a loud laugh.

"Funny," he points at me, waving his drink around," one of the traits that bruise me so easily. Like a fruit falling out of a tree and hitting the ground too hard." I quirk a brow. Alright, he is drunk.

"Poetic, I think it's time for you to get some sleep," I crouch before him," you think you can make it to your bed after you send me back?" he sneers, rolling his head against the cabinets.

"Always with that damn demand," he takes another swig," I don't want to do that anymore." I huff. I guess I'm relaxing here tonight. Reaching forward I grab his arm to tug him up.

"Alright, time for bed, Egil," I help him stand. He stumbles as he gets to his feet, bumping into me. I steady him, holding his waist. He takes the moment to swing his arm around me, nearly making me fall as he drops on me.

"What was that outfit your wore the last time," he mumbles near my face, the stank of his alcohol burning my nose.

"My dress," I ask as we make the trek to his bedroom.

"Yea, the dress," he grins, giggling like an idiot," I liked it."

"Thank you, my mother got it for me," I answer as we reach his door. I swing it open, tugging him in. He bumps and nudges me till he falls onto his bed. I take the relief to catch my breath, he is a rather heavy and sloppy drunk. Couldn't hold at least some of his own weight?

He turns onto his back, kicking off his footwear with a dopey grin on his face. Sliding up the bed he looks to me, gesturing me over. In my experience with drunks, this I what we call a bad idea. I take a step closer, still a good enough distance to get out of reach. He gestures me closer. I don't budge, he sneers. Snatching my wrist he tugs me closer, using his other hand to cup the back of my neck. My face is uncomfortably close to his.

"You have the prettiest eyes," he pets at the back of my neck," like weeping gems in the deepest caves of Turmore. Which is fitting because your beauty is so grand it nearly makes me weep in pure joy." I glare at him utterly confused. I gulp hard.

"Are you always like this when drunk," I nearly squeaked. He shrugs, dropping my wrist to pet at my face.

"You bring out the weird in me," he scrunches his nose.

"Ok," I grab his hands and push them away," you need to sleep, I'll be on the couch." I try to take a step back but he pulls me back.

"No," he whines, pulling harder. I fight against him, trying hard not to fall on the bed. With a well-timed tug, I'm pulled against his chest and twisted onto my back. Leaning on his forearm and stretching the other on the opposite side of my head he glares down at me. His stare is hard and focused unlike before. I look between his eyes, waiting with bated breath for his next move.

Egil lowers himself till his lips are near my ear," I want to tell you something."

"y-yea," I try to turn to him but my cheek bumps his. His answer is to kiss my cheek. My heart flutters in my heart like a loose door in a storm. I'm stuck between uncomfortable and uncontrollably excited.

"I don't like our deal anymore," he bumps his head against mine," I feel more and more idiotic for suggesting it."

"why," I shift back to look at him. His eyes are barely open, either from the drink or something else. It doesn't look erotic but he keeps acting this way. He shifts so he can grab my hip, petting me with his thumb.

"I was stupid," he falls to his side, resting his head on his pillow," I was scared of you. Now I'm terrified of you."

"What," I ask offended. I try to crawl out from under him but he circles his hands around my thighs and rests his head on my chest.

"You like our conversations and you're really funny. I don't want to stop seeing you," he rubs his face against my shirt," please don't stop seeing me." his grip a bit harder, trying his hardest to not let me have an inch to get out. I pet at his head, trying to placate him.

"It's alright," I coo," I'm not leaving, I'm right here."

He grunts," for how long?"

"let's just live in the now, Egil. Let me up and try to get some sleep, I'll be here in the morning," I try to push him off. He clenches harder, looking up with his chin pressed against my sternum.

"You can sleep here," he suggests.

"No, that's not appropriate," I scold. He snickers, leaning up and pressing a kiss to my neck.

"Neither is pushing your mate away but I already did that," he makes me shutter as he licks my skin. I take a deep breath, very caught off guard with his attentions.

"How about we talk about this in the morning," I offer," just go to sleep." he grunts, pressing his face in the crook of my neck. I can't bother to try and push him away, somehow enjoying the weight of him on me. I pet at his head, trying to lull him to sleep.

"Good night, love," he brushes his nose against my jaw.

His eyes flutter open, closing as he grins. He stretches, tugging me close, and bumping his head against mine. It's after a moment that he stiffens, pushing me away as he sits up. Laying on the opposite side of the bed I watch his startled expression. He looks from himself to me then the bed. His features strain into a frown.

I sigh," Good night, babe."

I wake the next morning to soft snoring rumbling near my ears. Taking a deep breath I peek my eyes open, looking at Egil lounging on me. His arm is thrown over my chest, hugging me close to him as he sleeps. I take the quiet moment to admire him, look at his lax features. The urge to pet his face is strong. I give into it for a moment, feeling his soft skin on his cheek.

"Don't get grumpy," I yelp. He relaxes partially, more confused than anything.

"Why are you in my bed," he asks.

I chuckle half-heartedly," I've heard a similar question when we first met."

"Kari," he says sternly," please explain."

I fluster, grabbing the blanket to cover most of myself," I don't wanna."

"Why?"

"Because you might get mad or embarrassed," I answer. That doesn't seem to help as he scoots farther away.

"Kari, I'm asking nicely, what happened?"

I nibble my cheek as I debate answering. Surely sober him wouldn't have the same ideas at drunk him. Does he honestly want me to stick around? Will he want to hear about how he kissed and licked my body before falling asleep half on top of me?

Will he still think my eyes are pretty?

"You got drunk. That's it," I answer quickly," I put you into bed and you didn't want me to sleep on the couch because you are so kind. So you let me use your bed and here we are."

His brow furrows," Is that all?"

I hide under the blanket some more," No."

"Kari," he scolds," what did I say?" I debate lying, saving his feelings-and mine- from this recap. Nibbling on my cheek I try to gain some courage.

Peaking over the blanket I ask," do you really regret making that deal with me?"

Egil stiffens, grabbing a fist full of blankets in a harsh grip. I wince at his discomfort. I bet if he regrets anything right now it's saying that last night. He takes a moment for himself, looking towards the room before meeting my eyes. He sighs, dropping his chin towards his chest.

"Yes, more than anything," he grumbles. I nearly pop up from under the blanket like a whack-a-mole.

"Really," I ask," I mean, why?"

He winces, shrugging as he thinks of an answer. "I don't know. A lot of reasons. I just think not having you around anymore would be…a great loss. Having you as a friend has been great and I don't want that to end."

"You want to keep me around as a friend," I ask, feeling a stab at my heart for such a lacking suggestion. Does he only see us as friends? I don't want to be brazens and assume that we can be much more but…it couldn't hurt.

He sighs," No, I don't think I could muster the strength to keep things platonic with you. Especially after seeing you in that dress."

I grin," better than the towel?" he peaks at me, giving a teasing smile. It feels easy to talk with him like that, the tension already ebbing away.

Feeling brave I shift the blanket off myself and crawl over towards him, stopping as our legs touch. I hesitate to touch him, using stubborn courage to grab at his hands.

"Egil," I start," I don't know a lot about all this and you suck completely at trying to explain it. Yet, I can feel something here and it's beginning to grow. I really want to know now, before it's too late, if you honestly want to give this a try. Ever since the night with the dress I haven't been able to get that angry scowl out of my mind. I don't want to ever see you angry. Grumpy is fine but angry, I can't handle it. It made me realize that I want to make you happy and being here with you is the one way I know for sure that I can make that happen. So, do you want to try?"

Egil squeezes my hand, watching me in harden focus. I wait for his answer, craving his answer. The battle is clear on his face as he tries to think of something, anything, to say. In the end, he just grabs my face and tugs me into a kiss.

It's surprising at first, to feel his thin, long mouth against mine. Yet, his sweet taste draws me in as I cup his face. He tells me all I need to know in just a simple action. Though he is a man of many words, this moment didn't demand such talent. I part from him to rest my head against his.

"I want a date night with you," I smile, feeling silly demanding such a thing.

"What's a date night," he asks.

"Dinner, movies, cuddling and kissing on the couch," I answer. He nods, thinking about it.

"Will you wear that dress again," he perks up. I press a sweet kiss to his mouth.

"If you want," I smirk.

"Then it's a date, hopefully, I'll get to see you in the towel next time," he flirts. I scoff, playfully hitting his chest. He laughs, tugging me into a hug and another kiss. I pet at his cheek, smiling like a dork.

"Maybe if you play your cards right, I'll be in less than a towel."

He growls in excitement.

[honestlyfrance]

find me in san francisco

ship: sam/bucky

warning: violence, cursing, apocalypse

summary:

Bucky looked over to Sam for a moment before speaking, "Las Vegas may have currency but it doesn't have you."

OR

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes stumble upon each other once more at the aftermath of war.

—■—■—

Run. That’s what you do best anyway, isn’t it?

The view of a beachside stretches, the sand a murky grey with glasses and scraps of metal lining the boardwalk as if washed up against the rough and harsh soil, leaning against the ugly and crumbling brick wall where the actual boardwalk started up above at a level, and at a low tide the pitch-black ocean water lapped against the side at an increasingly frightening pace, as if it was always unsteady, always unnatural. Here on this sand, he ran, clad in a black ensemble, a matching WWII remnant design gas mask on his face, tubes attached to an oxygen tank he had in a backpack. He almost left no boot prints on the shore due to the dense debris that littered there. It was frightening what the last decade had given the earth — so terrible.

The man was running as fast as he could, biting down his tongue as he breathed at an interval of every three minutes – he had managed to breathe every five or six minutes when he was idle, and he has yet to learn to save his breath as he runs. He reaches the staircase that led to the boardwalk, hopping up the marble steps that cracked at every step he made, turning and twisting until he made his way out of the abandoned boardwalk, and was it just him when the stores and barest frames of buildings moaned in agony as the only life that passed through its once lively soul had left as soon as it arrived, or was it just the hunger that nipped at his guts?

He ended up by the road, and it was abandoned by cars and people, buildings just as decayed and bare as the ones in the boardwalk. He looked around for a moment, frantically—he has perfected the art of saving his breath, he’s been breathing for an interval of four minutes now, based on his watch. He took a right and ran as fast as his legs could go, which was a fast jog that could carry him for three hours at most without wasting his breath. 

As the road ended up uphill, with him leaning forward against the heavy pull of gravity from below, there was a view of a clinic before the T-intersection. Our man didn’t falter in step and breath as he reached the clinic, breaking the glass door in one swing with his right elbow. The glass door cracked and shattered in a million diamonds, bouncing on the floor and sticking to his sleeves. He patted them off and entered through the door, invading the empty veterinarian’s clinic.

He went into a room, where the surgeries occur and found some more oxygen gas tanks. Out of all twenty of them only six had not been wasted. He took them all. His tank was still full, but he took them. No more for the strays who would try to salvage for oxygen, the only thing left for them is the decaying flesh and bones of animals in cages in the next room. He took them, placed them in his retractable wagon, and pulled north.

He hears the faintest sound, but he hasn't faltered. He walked slowly now, his breathing smooth as water as his ears tried to pick up the source of the sound. It rolled on the ground. Heavy. Faraway. It didn't change pace.

Our man, who used to go by Sam Wilson, had continued on his way, squaring his shoulders as his jaw clenched beneath the mask, and for once, he had let his guard down. He trusted his heart over his gut —  he let his eyes wander towards the ground because it felt right to do so. God, when was the last time Sam had relaxed? Swinging his arms as he hummed a tune— When was the last time he could touch the sky and feel free?

It was a car. Some Mercedes. A dark shade of green. It had a pop of silver on the hood, what used to be a logo now scratched off, but there was definitely a wing in there.

The passenger window rolled down when the car had matched Sam's pace. Sam didn't want to look, didn't want to disappoint himself and get shot again. He didn't want to let his hopes wander towards the heavens just so it can fall so fast like what happened to Lucifer. He didn't want to die, to have that sliver of mercy turn into a knife.

The man in the car was covered top to bottom in a black ensemble, what they used to call the Winter Soldier armor due to the uniqueness and durability. Sam didn't want his hopes to get too high, so he assumed that the stranger wanted to steal his wagon of oxygen tanks. The atmosphere is thinning so fast, it's incomprehensible; everybody would do anything to live.

Sam whiplashed, pulled out his knife from his thigh holster, twirling it in his fingers before pulling his elbow back — it all happened too fast, next thing Sam knew, the stranger had leaned back into the driver's seat as soon as the knife had lodged itself into the driver seat window, barely an inch away from the man.

The man laughed for a moment as if it was the most adorable thing he had witnessed. His breath hitched and his arms were crossed over his chest as if he actually believed that was where Sam was aiming for.

"Nice car." Sam spoke, his words deeply muffled by his mask, it almost sounded like another language, "I'm taking it."

The man had no time to react because, by the time he had regained his stature, Sam had reached in and unlocked the passenger door, swinging it open. Holding onto the side and door of the car, Sam lifted himself and swung both his feet towards the man's chest, successfully knocking the air out of him. 

As the man had choked, Sam swung himself inside and closed the door shut, leaving his wagon outside. He sat on the passenger's seat, looking over at the wheezing man. Grabbing the man's right arm and locking it under his arm, Sam elbowed the man to the chest, throat, and nose, feeling the satisfying ringing pain shooting through his skin. Sam had worn elbow pads, decorated it with silver spikes even — poor man.

Sam had twisted the man's right arm — the man grunted like a trapped animal — and forced him to duck, and with a spare hand, he grabbed the man by the collar, slamming his face into the wheel, earning several short honks, not loud and long enough for anyone in the radius to hear.

The man heaved as Sam pulled him back, even caressing the back of the man's neck, letting the stranger have a few breaths of air for a moment. What a saint Sam was. Sam abruptly squeezed the man's neck, earning a satisfying whine. As Sam was reaching over for the knife lodged in the window, the man had uppercut him in the stomach, earning an alarming wheeze from our man. With a final tug from Sam and a punch by the man, they found themselves overcome with adrenaline.

Sam pulled the knife out of the window with a grunt, pushing the knife through the man's thigh with a terrifying shringggg, eliciting a muffled scream from him.

Sam pushed the man away from him and slid against the passenger door, heaving heavily, already afraid of how much oxygen he lost in the fight. His head felt light, and there's a ringing pain in his abdomen, one that urged him to caress it with a gentleness which his gloves contrasted. 

The driver's seat door suddenly swung open and an arm had stuck in and dragged the stranger out of the car, rolling on the ground with a gurgled grunt. The stranger tried standing up despite his injured leg but the man had pulled the knife out of his shin, eliciting a garbled line of a shriek as he collapsed on the asphalt road.

Sam rolled his eyes as he opened up his own door, pulling in the oxygen tanks one by one as the new man continued to clean up the scene, wiping the knife and pocketed it in his holster. Sam had retracted back his wagon and pocketed it as he closed the door, the new man taking the last man's seat in the car, his eyes blanketed by his dark goggles.

The new driver shifted gear and removed the handbrake, stepping on the gas quite slowly to avoid the roar of the engine or the screeching of tires. This man spoke, his words muffled deeply, signing as he said, "Run over?"

Sam waved a hand, shaking his head, and there's a glint in his eyes as he glanced over to the man wearing a black ensemble just like his, but there's a filter mask instead, more sleek and functional, something the Winter Soldier armor couldn't have, the actual original one that belonged to Bucky Barnes.

Bucky's eyes had joy in them as he looked over to Sam. The car moved for a few feet away from the grunting stranger, then Bucky shifted the gear to reverse, looking over at the rearview mirror until he deeply injured the man's legs. Bucky took his time in shifting back to drive, the car jumping a bit as they continued on with stealing the car. 

"I didn't think you'd come," Sam signed with one hand, leaning his head against the closed window, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You were on the way to Las Vegas."

Bucky looked over to Sam for a moment before speaking, "Las Vegas may have currency but it doesn't have you." 

Sam had to take a moment before figuring out what the man was saying, and when he did, he smiled under his mask, closing his eyes as it reached them. Groaning, Sam shook his head at that, Bucky laughing at the side as he maneuvered the car through the throes of wrecked cars and metal of the San Francisco streets.

The wreckage of the road, of course, only stretched the more the car rolled down the disaster of a scene. The afternoon sky was dull and settling as the winds whistled a low tune, but even then it was merely a delusion, merely a fictitious ensemble, something more of a mirage, a ploy to the senses. Decorating the asphalt road were small fires that were either already burning or had suddenly combusted out of nowhere, and other than this, the afternoon harsh sun rays were bouncing off of the reflective surfaces of dismantled cars, almost disfiguring the two men’s sight from the windshield. 

It's almost like an ode to the old world, a painting dedicated to the world before downfall played into fate, something of a music piece played for the masses disguised as the Trojan horse. Our two men had sat in silence as this scenery passed by them, but all they felt was tension and war in their veins, their gazes as strong as liquor and they despised that — despised how much they could've gotten if nothing ever happened in the first place.

Bucky reached over to Sam quiet hesitantly, grabbing his attention with a slight tap. Sam's eyes glanced at Bucky's hand, watching the way Bucky signed, slowly, as if wanting Sam to take it all in, I'm sorry.

Sam spoke, but his words were chopped and deeply muffled, barely comprehensible, but Bucky knew what he was trying to say with the way Sam's eyebrows hardened, the quick tick of his jaw, and the softness in his ocher eyes. Sam's nervous, forgiving, I was okay without you.

Bucky's eyebrows relaxed, and he wanted so badly to remove his goggles but he knew he shouldn't, so he nodded, cleared his throat, and said: "You were always okay without me."

Sam nodded. They both knew. Sam was always fine on his own, but he felt that need for a companion and he adored Bucky's like Apollo's Icarus — like a scar down one's spine, one made out of love, ambition, and yearning. 

"I wanted to be human. I wanted someone," Sam spoke, only signing it when he had gathered himself. He had set his head against the window, his breath shuddering as he added one last bit, "I wanted it to be you."

There's heat rising in Bucky's chest and all he could think of was how much Sam was attracted to it, but he's afraid he'd burn the angel because people like Bucky only ever did was hurt the most beautiful things in the world, but damnit, Sam wasn't beautiful.

People like Sam were ugly to the bone because they don't truly believe in peace and beauty. They've fought tooth and nail to accept fate with stardust in their eyes and that journey alone was frightening, murderous intent for all.

It's scary to think someone like Sam wasn't able to love because he was just so full of it.

"I want to love you," Bucky speaks, and they were soon going down a steep road. He moves methodically to drive them quietly. "I want to be with you too."

Sam signs, furiously, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes had a sadness in them Bucky couldn't pinpoint. "Then why did you leave?"

Bucky's hand flew to the clasps of his goggles, but then he stopped, realized what he was doing, and slowly set his hand back down on the steering wheel. Sam was watching the man with wide eyes, silent and nervous as if they were going to suddenly combust at any moment, and maybe they were with the way flames lick their skin as if hungry peasants — maybe they were those hungry peasants.

"To survive. Didn't realize that's an empty wish if I didn't find companionship — you, when I was already so far away." Bucky replied, and his voice was clear, a little murky, but Sam heard it all, even the man's heartbeat laced around the words. "I didn't want to live greedily, I wanted to live loved and to love."

Sam turned back to face the road, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes caught sight of the hood of the car. There were a million thoughts that ran through his head at the speed of light, but he wasn't baffled when these thoughts turned to plans, survival plans, plans with Bucky Barnes. His lip squirmed under the mask and it hurts to even smirk, but Sam's heart is so full of emotions he never thought he could feel again and it's euphoric.

Sunlight dances on grass and Sam could feel himself breathe freely again as if he was alive before the war. He could feel Bucky's flesh hand in his and there are the softness and toughness of skin he craved after the war. There were too many feelings in Sam's chest that made him weep, but he stayed stoic, stared out the windshield, his jaw hurting as he tried his best to stop his smile.

They were on flat ground and Sam made a sound Bucky thinks was laughter. Bucky's chest fluttered just like the first time he heard that laugh — before the war.

Sam's gloved fingers find their way grazing Bucky's jaw, only a fleeting feeling none of them could feel, but there's warmth in their chests as Sam cupped another hand around the man's cheek, their hearts singing in octaves as Apollo fell instead of Icarus; all backward love, they'll make it worth it.

Sam leaned into Bucky's face and their masks made a clicking sound when they met. This was the closest they could get to kissing, but it's not truly a love story if lips had to prove it. Don't you hear the world still just for them? 

Sam stared at the goggles, thinking he could see Bucky's eyes flutter close, fighting to keep them open. Sighing, Sam closed his eyes to take at the moment, the new normal they can have.

Letting go, Sam leaned back into his seat, saying, signing, "We just stole S.H.I.E.L.D. property."

There's a trace of a grin on Bucky's words when he said, "What bastards. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam turned to Bucky, and they share a sound similar to a laugh.

"As always." 

[ill-rip-myself-apart]

FREAK - FRANK MORRISON X READER

*female reader

*Race Neutral

*TW ; small descriptions of gore, yandereish frank, blood, mentions of murder, mentions of anxiety and severe fear. Minors DNI

The days were winding down quickly, almost taunting you of what's to come. The cold month of February usually brought on the most snow in your little town. The population nothing more than 6000 people, although as the years went on it seemed like the number grew small and smaller. Part of you wondered if your whole town would cease to exist at one point. As if some entity would bring it down.

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, moving away from the mirror in the bathroom you shared with your uncle. It's design was rather drab and plain, just how Charlie liked it although it'd be weird if it was any other color at this point. You have grown custom to the old scenery within your home. It was comforting.

You grabbed your dirty clothes off the floor, chucking them into wicker basket by the sink, making your way towards the door you were greeted with your uncles face. His bushy brows were raised.

"You'd just take a shower?"

"Yeah I did, don't worry I turned on the fan."

"Good, I don't need the room to be all steamy while I'm taking a shit."

You backed out of the bathroom with a snort, your uncle was always frank. No filter on that mouth of his but it was part of the charm. With a sigh you started heading towards the kitchen. It was just 10 minutes past 9 and the clouds were already in the sky, blocking any and all sunlight that dared shined today. It was never any match for the heavy clouds of rain or it's friends that consist of snow and fog. Chilly temperatures that seeped through your skin and past your bones, hitting you where it hurt most.

You washed your hands at the sink, looking out the window where it showed nothing the endless trees and hills of snow. These trees stretched out for miles, escalating till they reached the top of Ormond. The largest mountain in Canada. Surrounded by a backwater town no one ever heard of.

Every branch was weighed down by the white sparkling powder, it looked beautiful but beyond the shadows something sinister lurked. Creeping by in the dawn of wake, at least that's what the rumor was.

"Tomorrows the 14th, you think your admirer is gonna come again?"

Charlie's tone was nothing short of being playful but to you? The question felt like a itch that couldn't be scratched.

You dreaded thinking about this, cause you asked yourself the same question. Would they come again? Whoever they were and why?

About two years ago, on your birthday you woke up to a rather unsettling sight. It was a cold December morning (just for the sake of the story, pretend your birthday is in December) you looked outside your window from the second story of your house and what you saw was shocking. In the snow was a red heart. Maybe you think it's for someone else but it couldn't be when your name was right underneath it.

Only two questions ran through your head, one, how did this person know your name? And two, what was the red liquid? Was it paint? Food dye? Blood?

You feared the answer to either question but not as much when it happened again on Valentines Day, after that it happened again on your next birthday, same with valentines day. Just your recent birthday is when it seemed to stop, but you couldn't be so sure. It bugged you to no end that this person knew your name, your birthday and where you lived. Everyday felt like a checklist, lock the doors, scout the front yard, look behind your back... This anxiety of being watched was eating you alive and felt like everyone was mocking you. Your uncle somewhat seriously but mainly thought it was just teenage doings. Your friends saw it as a romantic gesture, instead of a threat or personal attack, and the police? They thought you were insane. It was frustrating, no one took you seriously and you starting to doubt everything yourself at this point. Trauma does that to you.

"y/n? You okay kid? You're kinda out of it."

Your eyes darted to your uncles, he stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room. It felt cold and dark, you started tugging on your shirt sleeves. The black fabric brought a certain comfort to your hands. Nodding, you turned to look at him.

"Yeah, no I'm okay. Still waking up a little."

Your voice waivers, he can tell your on edge. You and Charlie had a close bond, so he picked up on your moods rather quickly. His forehead creased, a sympathetic look crossed his features.

"Your still thinking about it, huh?"

You nodded, arms folding over your chest. That feeling of being watched crept back up, you felt exposed.

"Well, maybe it's a kid from your school? I wouldn't assume the worst y/n. That's a bad way of thinking."

He could be right, it'd make the most sense. Maybe you were negative, maybe it was the anxiety you had since you were little, maybe it was the excitement, nothing ever really happens here in Ormond. Deep down this could be just you wanting something more in life. You tried to calming yourself down, a deep sigh rustling out of you.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I don't know, it just feels weird."

You decided maybe some food will settle your stomach, you went to the cabinet and pulled out some bagels. Ready to start your Saturday the best you could.



The clock had just striked 8 o'clock, by now it was dark out and your uncle wouldn't be home for an another hour so you were left to your own devices. The snow was falling rapidly on the ground, an inch already covering your yard. It looked feathery and light. The cold air perfectly whispy as the wind roared on, leaving the pine trees to shake in their wake. They looked like a puppet show, each tree black as silhouettes, covered by the dark night. It was a new moon tonight, something you could of enjoyed if your fear hadn't been eating you alive.

You really did try to take your mind off of  things but it wasn't easy. Your mind wasn't one to rest, you overthink a lot and this was something that couldn't possibly pass by you or your mind.

Currently you were curled up on the couch, huddled into a ball with a warm blanket, the t.v. was playing in the background but it felt like it was static to you. All you could do was sit and stare, checking windows and the front door every other hour. The darker the night got, the more your anxiety burned. Your stomach felt like a hollow hole, your chest was heavy. Each beat of your heart felt like the seconds ticking by, almost as if it was racing against the clock. All you wanted was this night to be over.

Ten minutes passed and that's when things started happening, you looked to the left of you where one of the large windows sat. Next to an old bookcase that was adorned with nicknacks and thick books, all of which you read through. Your E/C eyes darted to the window and nearly fell out of your seat. You could of swore you saw a figure. Tall and broad shoulders, a gray hood, covered with a Navy blue jacket.

You could practically feel the bile climbing up your throat. It burned at your esophagus, fear had rattled your heart, leaving it to drum against your ribcage. The stuttering of your breath could of been mistaken for how cold you were, but it was fear.

Rushing to the window you plastered your hands against the glass, the cold caused your warm hands to tingle yet you felt like you were on fire. Your skin was hot and flushed, you wanted to rip off your hoodie.

Frantic orbs scanned the perimeter, seeing nothing but the long lines of trees and and darkness. We're you dreaming? Did your anxiety get that bad to the point you were seeing things? Your legs felt jittery, weak almost. Like they buckle at any moment.

Footprints, you could see footprints that tracked in the snow. Leading to the backyard. Quick to connect the dots, the back was a view you could see from your bedroom. Not that it was much different, the area was heavily wooded but that wasn't the only standing factor. The backyard was usually the place your so called "admirer" left their messages. They were here, you had caught them in the act!

Well, not really. Granted you were still in the house, sitting on the floor as your skin ignited with heat. You ripped off the heavy garment before tossing it to the side, left in a black T-shirt with a skirt and stockings, the cold wooden floor was definitely soothing but it didn't help ease any of your fear nor lessen the feeling of nausea twisting in your stomach.

They were here, you knew that much. You weren't crazy, or imagining things. The fear was real, which made it all the more worse.

With a quick dash, you found yourself in the kitchen raiding one of the drawers. Pulling out a rather sharp kitchen knife. You spotted yourself in its reflection. Wide, shakey eyes darted in every possible direction, seeing if they caught up with you in the home. Did they know you were here? Or did they think you were asleep? So many different possibilities ran through your head. It felt like a rush, your brain made everything feel woozy. The bile was practically in your mouth, your heart was burning.

Above every option you thought about, the one that seemed to make the most sense was to go outside. A scratch that you've been dying to itch for so long. Finally you could know who this person might be, with baited breath you tucked your knife into your side, buried in your skirt before grabbing some slip ons, facing the dark truth. Once and for all.

The cold air was like a shockwave. Instantly your skin was covered in goosebumps. A chill sinking into your flesh, hitting you where it hurts the most. But you continued on, across the street was your neighbors house. All the lights were off which meant they had been asleep, pale lights from the street lamps flickered on and off. A few moths circled around each pole. The snow had stopped completely and you felt alone. It was desolate on your street and your not sure how to feel about it.

You found yourself following the trail of Muddy footsteps, whoever this person may be, they definitely weren't clean. The tracks in the snow were large, gritty. They must be wearing boots. That definitely didn't help the sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You stopped, there was it was. The red heart in clean white snow. It was splattered almost perfectly. Crimson red deep in icy thickness. The letter "I" Was before the heart and after it was the letter "U". I love you. Underneath it all? There layed your name ever so delicately, as if it was written with care. You swallowed the vomit in your mouth. You felt raw.

There was no mistaking what the color could possibly be. Too thick to be paint and too dark to be food dye. That was blood, the crimson color always ran deep, all of this felt surreal. You had to be dreaming, this wasn't real. You were imagining it all, why would anyone do this? The fear was getting to you, distorting all of your vision. Black dots floated around your vision as your breath slowed. We're you dying? Or are you gonna pass out? You couldn't tell. All you could feel was a blanket of nerves draping over you, collapsing into the snow, your whole body felt light. It was so warm yet so cold, and soft. God was the snow always this soft?

Wait, no you shouldn't fall asleep here. What's that saying? Don't fall asleep in the snow unless you never plan to wake up? But how could anyone resist? You felt ethereal. Like a bunch of morphine had been injected in your system and it was taking it's course.

Before your eyelids were too heavy, all you saw was your vision spinning slowly. The dark sky was perfect in your view, an ocean of stars reflecting with the crystal snow. Every bit of fear had left your body but deep in your psyche you were still scared. The fear was hidden away from the heavy feeling in your body. You were too tired to do anything.

A masked man had came into your view, peering down at you with heavy breathing. The mask had been a simple design, two eyes with a smile. It looked dirty and worn, multiple scratches had craved deep in its plastic interior. A swipe of blood across that mouth. What stood out the most was a tattoo along this persons neck, you feel like you've seen it somewhere. Maybe it was a dream? But before you could figure it out, your eyelids gave out. Only left with hearing the last thing your heard before you slipped into the abyss of darkness was heavy breathing and the sigh of your name.

Authors note ;

So I finally posted something 👉🏻👈🏻🥺, the ending is rather vague so you can imagine how the scenario might of ended, as always if you wish this to be written in either a different gender reader (male, female, non-binary, demis, I mean any and all) or maybe race specific just shoot me a pm! I hope you like it lol, I spent like three days on this and tumblrs formatting is kinda weird compared to wattpad so forgive me if I did this wrong lol.

.

[primroseprime2019]

Speed Metal

On a dirt road, a familiar shiny red Aston Martini DBS V12 sports car with white decals was driving down one of the many back roads towards a local hot spot for street racing. The driver had the radio playing. "As metropolitan PD continues to crack down on illegal street racing, citing the danger to both drivers and pedestrians-" the new reporter was cut off as the driver switched off the radio. He was uninterested in listening to more reports of local cops attempting to put a stop to illegal street racing.

Oddly enough, the radio was switched off automatically, not by a person's hand. This car was known other than the Decepticon Doctor, Knockout. He knew that Ember would probably kick his aft to kingdom come if she found out about Knockout's activities. However, Knockout didn't care as the thrill of illegal street racing was too hard to resist.

Up ahead, three other cars were waiting, with the drivers revving the engines. The ref walked out in front of cars as Knockout pulled up. They were all waiting for the right time to start and for everyone to arrive. All the cars were built for speed and had many modifications that were illegal. The Decepticon car intrigued the large muscular, tattooed driver of the muscle car Knockout had pulled up next to.

"Not from around here." The driver commented, referring to the car model. "European design?" He asked curiously, only to get no response from Knockout. The driver didn't like being ignored like that. "Sure is pretty. Too pretty..." The driver said with a grin as he tightened his right hand into a fist. 'This race is for fully grown men, not prissy little boys with pretty cars.' He thought. Using his ring, he scratched the paintwork on the driver's side door.

Knockout used his side view mirror to inspect the damage. Then he turned to the driver, who just shrugged, satisfied with his work, and rolled up his heavily tinted window.

"Big mistake!" Knockout gritted as he changed gears.

The ref held the flashlight above his head and switched it on, signaling for the race begin. All four cars took off, eager to beat their opponents to the finish line. For Knockout, he was eager not only to be the first to cross the finish line, but also to obtain his revenge against the driver who scratched his paintjob. The race was mean and grueling. The driver had the lead. He looked in his rearview mirror and smirked at the other drivers behind him before going even faster. Flames were escaping from the engine through the exhaust pipe as the RPM meter read dangerously close to seven thousand.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of squealing tires. He looked in his rearview mirror once again and saw that Knockout was quickly gaining the upper hand in this race. He rammed himself into the car. It was time to make this human pay for damaging his paintjob.

"HEY!" The driver cried out in protest.

With one single ram as they turned the corner, the driver went over the edge, destroying the guardrail. The car didn't even tumble down the cliff face or see-saw on a particular ledge. It just headed straight to the bottom, upside down, and the sound of the car crashing as music to Knockout's ears.

"Dude..." The driver moaned.

"You scratch my paint, I scratch yours." Knockout sneered dangerously before driving away, intent on reaching the finish line.

◊◊◊◊

Paige walked down the stairs of the school and she looked around before she saw a boy staring at her. She stared back before she walked over to Jack and Arcee who was in her vehicle mode.

"You okay?" He asked. "I just wanna go to the base," she said quietly as she sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Alright, alright," he said softly, reassuringly. He knew she'd be having some bad days where either she'd be quiet and try to hide in the back of the class or she would just start crying and clutching at her head. And this was one of the days.

"Turn on your music okay?" He said gently as he placed her earpods in her ears. She nodded and closed her eyes as she started to listen to the soundtrack from Collateral Beauty.

"Hey! Cherry moped!" Jack glanced at Vince who stood by his car.

"Um, this 'moped' has dual carbs and can go from 0 to 60 in 3.5 seconds," Jack boasted rather proudly before he drove off.

They soon pulled up to a red light. "Uh, Jack, a lady's vital stats are her own business," Arcee reprimanded him quietly. Jack almost rolled his eyes at that.

"Hey! Nick, right?"

He heard another female voice call out to him. He turned to face the corner and saw Sierra standing there with her best friend.

"Actually, it's Jack," he said. "Jack. Sorry. I'm Sierra," she said with a sheepish smile.

"I know," Jack said with a light blush that was concealed by his helmet.

"You once offered to take me for a ride?" Sierra reminded him. "Of course I did," Jack said instantly, "at anytime."

"I'm your guardian, kiddo," Arcee said quietly, "not your wingman." "So? How about now?" Sierra asked him hopefully.

"Uh...," Jack went to answer, but he stopped short when he saw Vince pull up next to him.

"Hey, hey! Small world!" Vince remarked.

"We're having a conversation," Paige spat.

"Cheer captain here might enjoy watching you take on four wheels of muscle car," Vince smirked as he gestured to Sierra and her friend who were standing there gossiping to one another quietly.

"Are you challenging me to a race?" Jack asked in surprise.

"You catch on quick, ponch. What do you say?" Vince asked impatiently.

Jack saw Sierra encouraging him to accept the challenge. He looked at Paige who was frowning at him. Honestly, she was caught in the middle and she thought it was a terrible idea. Optimus had set rules and for good reasons. Reasons like this one.

As soon as the light turned green, Arcee took off at lightning speed, causing Jack and Paige to yell in surprise at the sudden takeoff.

"You didn't let me answer!" Jack exclained. "Nope," Arcee said.

"But Arcee, we can smoke him!" Jack objected.

"Yep," she said, earning a frustrated sigh from her charge. "You just don't get it," he said.

"I don't make the rules, Jack. Optimus does," Arcee said, "and rule number one, in case you guys missed it: never abuse power for personal gain. And that includes horse power."

"Oh come on! I could finally get him to leave Paige alone!" Jack exclaimed. "As much as I would love to kick his tailpipe for messing with Paige, my answer is no," Arcee said firmly as Vince drove up beside them.

"Vince, maybe racing isn't such a good idea," Jack declined, causing Vince to laugh tormentally.

"Figured. You ride around like you're bike's something special. But it's just a chunky, lunky trike! And ugly!" Vince tormented before racing away as soon as the lights turned green.

"That's it! The yahoo's going down!" Arcee proclaimed before racing after Vince at high speeds.

"Whoa! What happened to rule number one?" Jack asked.

"Gets bent. Just this once," Arcee decided, much to Jack's excitement and much to Paige's dismay.

◊◊◊◊

"Yo, girls! Your pals, Darby and Kendrick, they're-."

"Ready when you are, Vinny!"

To Vince's surprise, when he turned his attention away from Sierra and her friend, he saw Jack, Paige and Arcee next to him all revved up and ready to go.

"Dirt road by trucker's ranch. One hour," was Vince's answer.

◊◊◊◊

When the hour had passed, Jack and Vince were on the dirt road at trucker's ranch ready to go. Sierra, Paige and Sierra's friend stood by the edge of the road eager to witness the showdown between muscle car and motorcycle.

"From here to the next mile mark. Ready. GO!" Vince yelled before taking off.

"Well, that was fair," Jack remarked sarcastically as Arcee took off after Vince.

As Vince and Jack rode past, Sierra and her friend had to place their hands on their skirts to stop themselves from flashing what they had underneath.

"That's why I wear pants," Paige said to Sierra and her friend.

"Uh...Arcee," Jack trailed off.

"Winning isn't enough, Jack. You wanna make him CRY," Arcee cut him short. Vince was surprised when he noticed that the motorcycle was no longer visible through his rearview mirror. He heard the sound of an engine next to him. He turned around and was surprised to see Jack and Arcee riding along next to him! Jack waved casually as Arcee pulled a wheelie and swerved past him at impossible speeds.

"Wha?" Vince gasped.

Arcee did a little honk in victory as they drove past the mile marker before Vince. Jack let out a whoop in celebration.

"OUTSTANDING!" Jack cried. "You know, now might be a good time to give Sierra just a quick ride around the block?" He asked hopefully.

"Don't push it," was Arcee's answer and he grumbled.

◊◊◊◊

"Ah, Breakdown, Comet. Has there been any change in Megatron's condition?" Ember asked as she walked into the medbay.

"Only cosmetic," Breakdown answered honestly as he folded the buffer back into his arm.

"Well, I am sure that you and the good doctor have been doing everything in your power. Where is Knockout?" She asked, looking around. As if on cue, the Decepticon medic walked into the medbay.

"Can you believe what some skinjob did to me?" Knockout huffed as he inspected the scratch on his arm.

"Have you been out street racing with humans again?" Ember frowned. "I'm not only an automobile, I'm an automobile enthusiast," Knockout said nonchalantly.

Ember frowned deeply, "we run a tight ship around here Knockout. I strongly suggest that you request permission from me next time you decide to disappear on your little jaunts."

"No worries, Red," Knockout said dismissively. Ember gave a low, warning growl.

"Mistress Ember," Knockout corrected. "The day our master emerges from stasis, I shall gladly relinquish that title," Ember huffed, "but I believe that outcome is unlikely something to do with the quality of medical care around here. So continue buffing as we do want Megatron looking his best for the memorial." With that, she turned and walked out of the medbay.

Knockout groaned, "buff this." Comet gave him a look, "Knockout."

"You hush," the Decepticon medic huffed.

◊◊◊◊

Arcee drove into the base. Jack and Paige dismounted Arcee, allowing the Autobot to transform into her bipedal form.

"Not a word to anyone," she said firmly. "Our little secret," Jack said with a wink. Arcee smiled and she walked away.

"Dude! Vroom vroom vroom! And the winner is...," Miko smirked at the two of them.

"Jack!" Paige finished as she and Miko performed their handshake.

"Miko, who told you?" Jack asked nervously.

"You kidding? It's all over school!" Miko told them.

"You beat the pants off that blowhard bully Vince!" Raf cheered, "And I'm sure he'll leave Paige alone now because of how protective her big brother best friend forever is!"

Raf and Miko let out yells of surprise as Jack and Paige suddenly pulled them into a group huddle.

"You guys have to keep this on the DL. Especially from Optimus," Jack hissed.

"Why?" Miko asked.

"Because that race totally broke rule number one: never abuse power for personal gain," Paige said, "and I'd rather not let the Prime know that I'm the target of bullying."

"What are you four doing?"

Jack, Paige, Miko and Raf jumped and yelled in surprise as they turned around and saw Optimus standing there with a curious expression on his face.

"Uh...nothing," Jack answered with a nervous chuckle.

"Just talking about...stuff at school," Paige shrugged.

"Top secret stuff!" Miko piped in.

"Stuff you don't wanna know," Raf added.

Optimus let out a hum and raised his optic ridge. He knew something was up. Thinking that the four of them would tell him eventually, he left them to their devices. As soon as he was out of earshot, they all let out sighs of relief and slumped against one another.

"That was close," Jack sighed in relief.

"I can't believe we lied to him," Paige moaned.

"I can't believe how robotic we sounded," Miko retorted.

"How did we manage to keep the secret so long?" Raf asked, causing the other three to laugh.

Raf was right. If they had trouble telling a lie to the leader of the Autobots, how did they manage to keep the secret of their existence for as long as they had so far?

◊◊◊◊

At school, Jack walked down the stairs, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey. I've been looking for you," Sierra said as she came out of the school with a duffle bag, "The race! How great was that?! I was like, 'Yeah! Go Jack!'"

"It was no big deal," Jack shrugged.

"You got that right!" Vince agreed as he shoved his way past Jack, "If you think you can run with the big boys, The Circuit. 11 PM."

Paige walked towards Jack and she stopped when she saw Vince and Sierra. Jack was staring at Vince before he frowned, "...fine. If I win, you leave Paige alone."

Paige widened her eyes and Sierra smiled. Vince huffed, "deal."

◊◊◊◊

"You agreed to WHAT?!" Arcee demanded as she drove down the road with Jack and Paige.

"It was some kind of secret racing club. I don't know. I had no choice. Sierra was right there!" Jack defended himself.

"You always have a choice Jack," Arcee said sternly, "and what part of 'just this once' did you not understand?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Jack sighed, "but we're on right?"

"We are not on," Arcee said firmly as she drove into the base.

◊◊◊◊

Knockout was driving down the road when Breakdown called. "Knockout, Ember's looking for you. Where did you go?" He asked through the commlink.

"Oh, just out for a little drive," Knockout said, "I just roll from town to town sniffing around until...the next opportunity presents itself. He saw a car race past him and he changed gears to catch up with it.

◊◊◊◊

Back at the base, it was pretty quiet. Everyone was off doing their own little thing...except Raf who remained behind to play video games. He was actually doing well...until Jack distracted him and caused him to crash.

"Raf? Uh...is there any way I can borrow Bumblebee for an hour?" Jack requested nervously, causing Bumblebee to widen his optics in surprise. "Don't involve me in this!"

"Jack," Paige said in a warning tone. "Jack, you know racing's against the rules," Raf said, "what if Optimus found out?" "He'd be mad!" Bee exclaimed, his doorwings twitching with nervousness.

"But Raf, he's gotta get the girl!" Miko exclaimed, "and beat the bully!"

"Jack, I appreciate you protecting me but I don't need you getting into trouble because of me," Paige said.

"This isn't because of you, Paigey," Jack said sternly, "I'm doing this to protect you. And to prove a point."

"Well...," Raf trailed off, still unsure about letting Bumblebee race.

"Come on, Raf. Just this once?" Jack pleaded him sincerely. Raf looked both worried and unsure.

◊◊◊◊

The moon cast a luminous shadow over the circuit. Racers and their girlfriends lingered around the starting line of the track. They were conversing. Talking about how they were going to win the race against some of the best. So they were amazed when they saw a black-and-yellow muscle Camero roll up onto the scene.

But no one was more surprised then Vince as he waited patiently at the starting line for the race to start. He couldn't even HIDE how surprised he was when Jack rolled down the window so they could see eye-to-eye.

"Bike's in the shop," Jack shrugged.

Vince didn't say anything in response. He just turned to the track laid out before him. Suddenly, something beautiful blocked their view. Jack leant back into Bumblebee's seat in surprise at the sight. It was Sierra. She just stood there smiling and waving at him innocently.

"Circuit drivers, are you ready? Make it mean but keep it clean! Fire 'em up in 5...4...3...2...1!"

However, behind them, nobody noticed another car pull up. What was more important was the fact that Jack and Bumblebee didn't notice the new racer. And that is because the new racer is Knockout.

When the countdown had finished, Sierra threw her hands to the ground and crouched low. Then she turned and watched the drivers begin to race around the circuit. They didn't notice Knockout riding along a little too close to them.

"The Autobot they call Bumblebee," Knockout remarked. Knockout decided to make himself known. And to do that, he rammed himself into Vince's car and immediately took the lead from him.

"What's Knockout doing here?" Bumblebee buzzed when he spotted Knockout.

"What was that, Bee?" Jack asked worriedly before glancing in the rearview mirror as Bumblebee continued his concerned bleeps, "Wait. I know that car."

Jack yelled out in surprise as Bumblebee suddenly veered right and began driving along the wall. Knockout immediately copied his actions...with a gun popping out from near his cap for the fuel tank! Immediately, the Decepticon began firing shots at the young Autobot. Bumblebee did his best to avoid Knockout's shots. Vince breathed out his surprise as he saw Jack and Bumblebee drive up the wall and jump off the track. Knockout immediately followed suite.

"Can you lose him, Bee?" Jack asked nevously, earning bleeps in response, "What'd you say? ...I hope that means 'yes.' Cause I'd rather not call base for back-up."

◊◊◊◊

"Anyone seen Jack?" Arcee asked casually, causing Miko and Raf to freeze nervously.

"Not since we last saw him," Miko answered nervously.

"...they're racing, aren't they?" Arcee asked knowingly.

"Just this once," Raf piped in nervously.

"Did you know about this?" Arcee asked Nightwalker, WhiteRain, Bulkhead.

"No...maybe...a little," Nightwalker answered nervously. Bumblebee suddenly called in. "Bumblebee to base. We're being chased by Knockout. Require backup."

"You're being chased by Knockout?!" Raf repeated in disbelief. "Take evasive action?" Bumblebee asked.

"That sounds like a Decepticon," Miko remarked as she stood up with her first clenched.

"Bee, do not engage. Your first priority is to keep Jack safe," Arcee said firmly, "until I get my hands on him." "Arcee, let me come," Paige said.

"Paige, no. I'm not putting you in danger," Arcee said firmly. "Jack is my best friend and my brother," Paige said sternly, "and I want to kick Knockout's tailpipe for shoving me into that museum's glass last week."

"Anyone else scared of her right now?" WhiteRain asked, earning nods from Bulkhead and Nightwalker.

Arcee frowned at Paige before she sighed, "alright." She transformed into her vehicle form and Paige climbed on. Bulkhead, WhiteRain and Nightwalker transformed into their vehicle forms and drove after Arcee.

◊◊◊◊

Bumblebee and Jack continued driving along the road. They had a hard time shaking Knockout off their trail who continued to fire at them. So Bumblebee leaked some oil on the road behind him. The laws of friction didn't agree with rotating tires coming into contact with slick oil. So as the story goes, Knockout lost control of the car.

"Slick," Jack remarked.

Bumblebee drove himself back onto the track in the circuit and backed himself under a bridge. Knockout eventually regained his footing and began driving back towards the circuit. He came to a stop at the beginning of the bridge Bumblebee was hiding under. Sensing Knockout's presence, he shut off his lights and engine. Jack froze, trying not to make a sound or move. His internal sensors read no signs of any Autobot or Decepticon in the area. So he put pedal to the medal and drove right out of there.

"I think we lost him, Bee," Jack whispered. Then Jack was faced with another problem. And that problem was Vince. Vince came to a stop in front of the odd duo. His face was beginning to turn red in pure anger.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me!" Jack groaned.

"Darby," Vince growled as he pounded his fist into his open hand.

Knockout just happened to hear that, having not fully left the facility at this present time. Burnt rubber made its mark on the road as the car suddenly activated its breaks and made a complete stop in the middle of the road. He used his sideview mirrors to look for a sign. ANY sign of his foe. So when he saw the colours of bumper lights, he immediately changed gears and reversed back to the bridge, another advantage of driving on an empty road taken by him.

"Vince! You have to get out of here, OK? You win! Congradulations! Now go!" Jack pleaded.

"No. No. Start and back-up, loser. We're finishing this race! Don't wanna take it to the finishing line? Fine! Then we've got something to settle right here! Right now!" Vince proclaimed.

Vince's rant was suddenly cut off by his own screaming. Jack was surprised and concerned as a giant black hand reached down and scooped up Vince into his palm. And that hand just happened to belong to Knockout. Vince yelled out in surprise as he was thrown into the air while Knock Out transformed into his vehicular mode. Vince landed in Knockout's passenger seat with a grunt. He protested as the sunroof slammed shut above his head and the seatbelt wrapped themselves around his frame tightly, preventing any means of escape for Vince.

"What's going on?" he demanded, afraid of what could happen.

An Energon zapper appeared before Vince's eyes. Energon sparks flew from the prong for his head. As he felt the sparks take their effect on him, Vince moaned and slumped forward into the seat as he passed out. Satisfied with the current state of his captive, Knockout switched on the ignition and drove away, putting pedal to the metal once again. Jack ran up the side hill onto the road in the hopes of stopping Knockout for getting away with the bully. But he was too late. Knockout was gone, disappearing in a cloud of sand and dust as he disappeared into the dark horizon.

◊◊◊◊

"Breakdown, you'll never guess what I'm packing," Knock Out gushed excitedly as he continued down the highway with Vince unconscious and bound in his passenger seat, "Bumblebee's human friend! And when the Autobot attempts to stage a rescue..."

"He has a...breakdown!"

◊◊◊◊

"Bee, he's getting away!" Jack cried as Bumblebee approached him, bleeping his idea to him, "I-I-I can't understand you! Look. I'm not Raf! Can't you just honk once for bad news and honk twice for good news?"

Bumblebee seemed to like that idea. Finally, he found a method of communication Jack would understand. So he honked twice, telling Jack that he had good news indeed. Jack virtually melted in relief at understanding the mute Autobot. Well...he did until he saw Arcee, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bulkhead arrive. And Paige was with them and she wasn't happy.

When Paige hopped off of Arcee's vehicle form, she marched over to her best friend/brother and whacked him on the head, making him flinch and rub the back of his head.

"Jack, we need to chat," Arcee said, placing her servo on her hip. "Later, Arcee. Vince got snatched by that slick sports car 'Con!" Jack announced.

"What would Knockout want with that guy?" WhiteRain asked, surprised.

"He probably mistook him for Bumblebee's human friend. I'm not even Bumblebee's human friend," Jack said, "Look. It doesn't matter why they took him! Vince is in trouble!"

"Oh well. Tough break for Vince," Bulkhead shrugged carelessly, making Arcee, WhiteRain, Bumblebee and Nightwalker look at him.

"Bulkhead!" Paige and Jack exclaimed. Bulkhead looked at them, "what? Hear the guy's a jerk. Even more so to Paige."

"Okay, no argument there but the guy's also innocent," Paige huffed, "he doesn't deserve to get hurt- especially by the Cons."

Arcee furrowed her optic ridges before she transformed into her vehicle form, "hop on."

◊◊◊◊

"They should have called by now," Raf said worriedly, "do you think Bumblebee's okay?"

"Don't worry Raf. Bulkhead and WhiteRain won't let anything happen to Jack or Bee," Miko said reassuringly. Then the two heard heavy pedesteps and turned to Optimus walking into the main hangar.

"We should just tell Optimus the truth," Raf whispered. "Absolutely not!" Miko whispered back, "we made a deal! Just act completely normal."

"Raf, Miko, do either of you know where the others have gone?" Optimus asked as he walked up to them.

"Why, no sir," Miko said nonchalantly, "we do not know."

"Miko is correct," Raf said with a nervous smile, "we do not know." "Why would we know?" Miko asked as she and Raf nervously smiled at the Autobot leader.

Optimus only raised an optic ridge at the two.

◊◊◊◊

The chase for Knock Out and Vince continued, despite the fact that it was – by now – the early hours of the morning. But they wouldn't give up. Especially since their secret was at risk. When they heard the sound of a car coming at an intersection, they stopped to allow the car to go through. The red and white car whizzed by. Jack, Paige and Arcee realized that it was Knockout. So they immediately took off after him.

"Bumblebee brought company," Knockout observed.

"On your guard, boys and girls. Could be a trap," Arcee warned.

"And remember. No shooting," Jack reminded the two boys.

"Speaking of safety, Jack, this is where you get off," Arcee said. Paige looked to Jack and flicked her tail.

She and Arcee took off. As they drove around the place, Bumblebee, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bulkhead saw a giant hole in the wire fence. Suspecting trouble, they immediately transformed into their bipedal modes and unfolded their blasters. Paige was climbing up the water tower, ready to attack from above in case trouble came.

Knockout turned his front lights on, temporarily blinding Bulkhead and Bumblebee. Then from the wall next to them, Breakdown and Echo broke their way into the fight. Breakdown's hammer hit the road between Bulkhead, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bumblebee, causing the two to flip away. Bumblebee stood ready to fight. But Breakdown easily knocked him out of the way. Eventually, he did the same to Bulkhead. Nightwalker and WhiteRain charged at Breakdown and Echo, taking out their weapons.

Vince was still in Knockout's passenger seat unconscious. However, Knockout's didn't care at the moment. His mind was occupied with another quest.

"Where's the two-wheeler and the little half breed?" he asked himself. Arcee and Paige dropped down onto the Decepticon medic's hood.

Arcee started punching at Knockout's hood. "Hey! Watch the paint! It's custom!" He snapped.

"Seriously?" Arcee grinned. Paige, as she was in her lioness form, dug her claws into the hood of Knockout's car.

The tires squealed as Knockout rolled out, with Arcee and Paige riding along on top of him. The fight between Breakdown, Bulkhead and Bumblebee continued, unaware of the situation with Arcee, Paige, Knockout and Vince.

Outside, Jack's attention was captured by the sound of squealing tires. He turned and saw Knockout attempting an escape with Arcee and Paige standing on top of him, trying to maintain balance. Eventually, Arcee and Paige lost their balance and fell off. But Arcee transformed into her vehicular mode and caught Paige before the two chased Knockout into the night.

"That's my girls!" Jack cheered to himself quietly.

◊◊◊◊

"Uh, Breakdown, in case you're looking for me, things got messy. So I hit the road. One scream is enough for today," Knockout said through the commlink.

No sooner then Knockout had said that, Breakdown turned around and found himself smacked in the face with a lamppost, sending him flying through the same wall he broke through before. And that hit was courtesy of Bulkhead.

◊◊◊◊

The chase between Autobot, Galatrian and Decepticon continued. Arcee and Paige were hot on Knockout's tail. So Knockout added more pressure to the accelerator and gained more miles ahead of them, causing Arcee and Paige to groan in frustration at yet another lost chance.

"Eat my dust," Knockout smirked at them. There was a loud truck horn and Optimus drove up beside Knockout. With a gentle nudge from the Prime, Knockout lost control of himself and drove into a ditch.

"Optimus, Knockout has a hostage," Arcee said. Optimus transformed into his bipedal form and he walked over to Knockout.

Optimus picked Knockout up and held him in the air by his rear bumper. Knockout screamed in pain as Optimus riped the driver's side door off of the main frame. Carefully, Optimus reached inside the interior of the car and freed the still-unconscious Vince from his current predicament. With Vince safe in his servo, he simply threw Knockout to the side as he transformed.

"Do you know how hard that is to replace?" Knockout had screeched after observing the damage to his arm. That was when he realized he was outnumbered.

Bulkhead, WhiteRain and Nightwalker aimed their blasters at the Decepticon medic.

'Scrap! If I'm not in trouble with these bots, then I'm in trouble with Ember!' Knockout thought before he transformed into his vehicle form and sped away.

Optimus turned to the others. Bumblebee drove up beside Arcee, Jack inside his vehicle form.

"Optimus... this is my fault," Jack sighed. "We must get this boy to safety. Explanations can come later...from all of you," Optimus said sternly.

Nightwalker lowered his head and WhiteRain's shoulders slumped guiltily.

"We're in trouble," Bumblebee said quietly.

◊◊◊◊

Vince came to hours after he was taken from the circuit by Knockout. Only, he didn't find himself in Knockout's car. He found himself in Bumblebee's passenger seat with Jack driving.

"How did? What happened?" Vince groaned as he sat up.

"Some guys jumped you under the bridge. They tossed you into their trunk. Must have been some kind of initiation," Jack shrugged convincingly.

"Really?" Vince asked, startled. "Yeah. Found you knocked out on the side of the road," Jack said before he stopped next to Vince's car, "Look. I gotta be honest. After what I saw tonight, I think racing isn't really my thing."

"I hear you, Darby. Hard to win a race driving a pedal car!" Vince sneered, causing Bumblebee to put pedal to the metal and drove away.

◊◊◊◊

Knockout walked down the hallway as Echo and Comet walked over to him. "What happened to you?" Echo asked, noticing the damage on his arm.

"Knockout, to the control bridge. Now," Ember announced through the commlink. Knockout lowered his helm and the three walked to the command center.

When the doors opened, Comet walked over to Breakdown and Echo walked over to Soundwave.

Ember turned to Knockout, her optics showing bridled fury. "You were supposed to be tending to Lord Megatron," she said sternly, "instead... you decided to go and defy my orders and pull a careless stunt like this."

Knockout flinched as he lowered his helm, not wanting to meet his leader's optics. Ember was no angle. As the alpha of the Decepticons, she would not hesitate in punishing soldiers. Even if those soldiers were her friends.

Ember looked to Starscream, "Starscream will be the one to give you a lesson you won't seem to forget." She turned back to the screens as Starscream walked towards Knockout.

Comet widened his optics and he stepped forward but Breakdown put his arm in front of the young mech and silently shook his helm.

"Not to worry," Starscream said to Knockout, showing a sharp claw, "your punishment shall be merely... cosmetic."

No! Not the finish! Anything but the finish!" Knockout pleaded before Breakdown, Echo and Comet cringed at the sound of screeching metal and the sounds of Knockout's screams.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

◊◊◊◊

The next day, Jack walked over to Arcee and climbed onto her vehicle form. "Hey, Jack. Do you have time for that ride?" Sierra asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, Sierra. I can't right now," Jack apologized regretfully.

"No problem. I guess I'll just see you around," Sierra shrugged sadly before walking away.

"Hop on," Arcee invited as she pulled up next to him.

"Whoa. Really?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Just this once," Arcee emphasized.

◊◊◊◊

Jack smiled as he and Sierra drove down the road, enjoying the sights before them.

[nic-214]

Frain: Take Me To Church

Tw: Homophobia, Faggot Used, Attempted Murder, Cult, Violence

Freddie lays on the hill Brian cuddled against his side, "You know this is wrong.." Brian whispers feeling Freddie's hands roam over his body.

"I love being wrong then." Freddie whispers softly passionately kissing him roaming his hands on the younger man's backside.

Brian felt his body shudder as he kisses Freddie back the older man pulls him closer as the stars shine bright but clouds were slowly rolling in. He touches his cheek and sadly pulls away, "I'm only a field away." Freddie whispers standing up as they heard a noise.

The town of Shiloh, was entirely Anti LGBTQ+ they had to hide their relationship heavily. They have little safe moments together which are becoming fewer and fewer.

"We were born sick." Brian whispers putting a cold hand against his cheek not wanting to leave his love behind. He felt Fred's heated breath against his face, Brian grabs Fred by one of his suspender strap and kisses him passionately. He felt the roughness of his beard rub against Fred's bare cheek.

"The only heaven I got is when I'm with you." Freddie whispers forcing himself away wanting to feel more of Brian wanting to keep him in his arms.

Brian works for the church and Freddie attends the church even if he isn't the same religion.... a new poison each week.

It was hard being in a homophobic town and being a immigrant. They make sure to blend in by worshiping heavily and "dating" women..... Aka  paying a few women to be their girlfriends. The two bought houses that were a field away from each other and they worked on their farming. Everything was going smooth no one suspected any thing right?

Freddie was waiting to be dragged away he had been caught dating a white woman named Mary. He didn't stick to his own race and he knew that was sinful enough but lord if the town ever found out about him and Brian? He would have to flee the very same hour while a huge ass witch hunt would conduct. He can almost feel the burn of ropes dig into his skin as stones hit him and it makes him shudder to think such a thing but he knows what the town is like.

Freddie and Brian part ways like they've been doing each night since they started dating five years ago with linger eyes and a yearning for each other. Freddie assumes it will be like any other night they kiss goodbye and head back to their homes, only a field away never too far apart. Freddie greets his cat, Chester as he kicks the door behind him closed.

"Hey buddy. Did you miss daddy?" Freddie asks.

Loud intense purring comes from Chester and Freddie laughs as he gets dinner started, "My lover's got humor..." Freddie whispers then frowns, "She's the giggle at a funeral...Knows everybody's disapproval. I should've worshiped her sooner....If the Heavens ever did speak.... H- She's the last true mouthpiece." he tells his old cat scratching behind Chester's ears.

The stew almost smelled heavenly the sign of a good cook was in the kitchen or  complete luck. Freddie got a cutesy little flowery designed bowl down for his stew and prepared to get a nice beer from the fridge when he heard the commotion of a century happening outside his house. Freddie peers out as the rain sprinkles gingerly down a small bonfire was a blazed, two men guard it, Father Daniel and his son Abel he has a older brother but Freddie doesn't see him anywhere. They had a bonfire going in the centre of the field.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

Freddie rushes out there his boots almost slipping in the mud, "Father! Father what is the matter?!" one of his straps was dangling off his shoulder now, Chester his beloved kitty was at his feet mud covered now.

"There's a nasty disgusting faggot right under our noses." Father Daniel sneers, "We're going to get rid of him." a big smirk comes onto his face, "Wanna joi-"

Freddie's already running to Brian's house it would be too dark to see anything but the young man's house was engulfed in flames the poor boy was being dragged out by his hair he was kicking and scream while trying to protect his body from the rocks being pelted at him some of the men still held molotov cocktails in their hands, some had their faces covered by masks.  Freddie could hear the town's words, all the screaming and wailing.

"Pedo!" a big hulk of a man screams crashing their boot into Brian's nose, "You're going to burn in hell!"

"He's mental ill!" a woman yells fanning herself with a church flyer.

"He's been vaccinated!'' someone else wails in the crowd sounding like a banshee.

Freddie hides behind some shrubbery he has to come up with a plan to rescue his love, Chester rubs against his knees and meows. Freddie covers his mouth, "You're right, Chess."

The town released all their pent up rage using Brian as some toy as they beat him, stone him, toss him around. He's being dragged towards the bonfire he's screaming for his life. His eyes are so full of fear and he's starting to choke on his own blood. They are literally going to burn him at the stake if Fred doesn't stop this.

"Stop!!" Freddie screams bolting from the shrubbery lifting his hands up a blueish glow seems to emerge from them as a  crack of lighten happens and the rain gushes down, Chester stands by his owner meowing louder, more than comes down.

"Witch!!" Abel yells lifting up his shotgun at Freddie.

"I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies!" Freddie screams, "I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife

Offer me my deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life. Please spare him!''

"Cain no!" it was Father Daniel's voice.

Cain fired his shotgun and hit his brother instead the preteen falls to the ground and a woman's cry can be heard,

Freddie raises his hand and sends Cain flying back into his father sending both men barreling towards the bonfire, "Witch! He's a witch!" the town stampedes around tramping each other leaving a dying Abel and a dying Brian.

Freddie steps over Abel guilt fills him but he can't help, Chester rubs against the boy's face. The boy looks already dead anyway and he just hopes Brian is still alive. Freddie kneels the mud soaking through his jeans freezing his legs more, "I don't know how they found my little secret out." the words come out with a twisted giggle, "Maybe I wasn't that safe."

He saw Brian's dulling hazel eyes search his face, "There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin," he cups Brian's cold wet face with one hand,

"In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene." he presses a chaste kiss against Brian's chapped lips.

He raises his hand the blueish glow returns he grazes the tips of his fingers against Brian's temple making the younger man cry out and arch his back before collapsing into his arms his white dirty dress shirt sticks to his thin body, "You truly are a witch." Brian rasps out a glow among his eyes.

"I'll leave, Brian. I understand." Freddie says getting ready to stand.

Brian grabs him weakly and kisses him feebly, "I love the mad ones."

Freddie gingerly picks up Abel and brings him inside the crumbling church Brian following at his heels he still has some bruises peppered on him, Chester meows following after flicking his big fluffy tail trying to get water out. Freddie lays Abel on a small table and heals him, "In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. I heal you, amen." it was bullshit Freddie spewed from his mouth but he knew faith would most likely help ease Abel as he gets healed.

"Lets leave." Freddie says taking Brian's hand dirt was still caked in his nails and fingers from where he fought for his life only a little bit ago, "A train will be leaving soon."

"Take me with you." Abel speaks up struggling to sit up he holds his head.

Now that Freddie can see him in the light better he realizes the boy is no older than 9 years old. He's malnourished and missing a good bit of teeth.

Brian pushes past Freddie and grabs Abel putting the boy on his hip, "Lets flee before they get brave."

Freddie picks up Chester and snuggles into the kitty's ginger fur, "Come now."

And the walk to the train station under the cover of darkness, they manage to get tickets to the farthest town away from Shiloh, Mulberry. It was was a tiny small town perfect to hide and blend in to. The four leave town on a train around late 5AM, leaving the cult like town of Shiloh behind them. They watch out the train window as the fire from the bonfire spreads engulfing the cursed town like a hungry serpent.

[stickswrites]

Keiko Aizawa: Origin “Her Shadows” (Chapter One)

It was the first day of classes at UA and I was less nervous than I probably should have been. I hadn't met anyone new from my class yet and I wasn't sure how well we would get along, not that I cared too much about making friends, but it's nice to get along with heroes you could work with in the future. You see, I got into the prestigious UA High School on recommendation from a few different pro heroes.

Allow me to back up for you. My name is Keiko Aizawa and I am a part of the 80% of the population that has a unique ability called a quirk. Mine is known as shadow manipulation and it does exactly as the name suggests, plus a few other things. I've been using it for years, training and pushing my limits so that I could be like my dad, the pro hero Eraserhead. He's not my biological dad, but he's more of a father than my real one. My biological parents are a story for another time.

Like I said, it was my first day of classes and the first day I would meet the rest of my classmates. I had to drag my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn in order to get to school on time and do my morning routine of going for a run and working out. I'm not exactly a gym rat because my social anxiety would actually manifest and kick my ass for making me go out in public to train, so Dad and I made a small at-home gym and training room so that we could both train, occasionally inviting my best friend over. I guess you could say my personality fits my quirk. I'm like a shadow in a room and lots of people don't notice me, which is fine by me. I don't want to be a pro hero like All Might, although I do respect him (who doesn't). I'd much rather be a hero like Dad, who stays out of the public eye as much as possible.

After I got out of bed, I walked sluggishly out of my room, petting my cat, Yuzuki, who was laying at the foot of my bed. I opened the door to the hallway and walked to the kitchen, where I figured Dad would already be waiting. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the table and looking like he was half asleep, which he probably was. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that Dad and I were related by more than a name. We acted extremely similar and I even looked kind of like him after spending 8 years with him.

"Good morning," he said lazily, bringing his coffee to his mouth and taking a sip.

"If it was a good morning, I'd still be asleep," I retorted.

Dad snorted into his coffee as soon as I said that, but he composed himself again very quickly. I went about the kitchen looking for something to eat but didn't find anything. Guess we'll have to go grocery shopping sometime soon. I thought to myself. Instead, I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a bag of chips that were definitely not meant to be eaten as breakfast. I was about to sit down across from Dad to eat when our two long-haired cats started circling around me and meowing, signaling that they were ready for their breakfast. Sighing, I set my breakfast down and poured their food into the designated bowls on the ground. I grabbed my breakfast again and sat down across from Dad.

"Are you still not going to tell me who my teacher is?" I asked for the millionth time since I found out I was accepted into UA.

"No," he responded. "You'll figure it out later today. Besides, you already know the majority of the teachers there."

"I know," I pouted while tossing a chip into my mouth. "But still, what's the point of having a dad who is a teacher at the school I'm attending, but not being able to know in advance who my teacher will be?"

"Maybe I should have just kept my job a secret then," he mused with a small smile on his face.

"Maybe you should have," I responded with a smile.

The rest of our breakfast was eaten with very few words exchanged. That's just how Dad and I were though. We didn't use a lot of words, so we showed our love with our actions instead. That's why he got me Yuzuki when I was eight years old. I had been bullied at school for my quirk and my eyes, which were obviously things I could control, and Dad happened to find Yuzuki, who shared a unique eye color with me, at a shelter. After that, I'd been bullied a few more times because of the scars I had on my face. There was an x-shaped one under my left eye and a vertical scar on the right side of my lips. The kids in my classes always found them unnerving. It was after those incidents that he finally pulled me out of public school and homeschooled me instead, which led to me hanging out around UA facilities a lot and meeting almost all of the teachers and faculty there.

"Are you ready for today?" Dad asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I will be after I go for a run," I responded with a smile. "I don't want to get lazy just because I was accepted into the UA Hero Course. Also, Mako is coming over to go on my run with me this morning."

"Good idea," Dad said with a smile.

Mako, or Makoto Saeki, has been my best friend since Dad adopted me. He got accepted into U.A. through recommendations like I did. What he didn't know was that Dad was the one to recommend him. Makoto has an amazing quirk called 'buffer'. It basically allows him to create gravitational plates that he can use to walk on walls, ceilings, air, etc. We've trained with my dad for as long as I can remember and are practically siblings at this point. For the majority of our childhood, we've been over at one of our houses. His parents were both pro heroes, but they'd been killed in action by a pair of villains. So his grandmother, who owns UNERI CO., bought the house that was right next to ours for Makoto and his little sister, Ichika. They had a nanny, Shiore, over at the house, so Makoto was able to come over a lot to hang out with someone his own age. So it was only natural that we became as close as we did and that we began working out together when we decided to apply to U.A. At least three times a week we would go on a morning run together before our days really got started. Today was one of those days. I glanced at the microwave clock to see that I still had half an hour before I was supposed to meet him in front of the tree that stood between our houses.

As soon as I finished my "breakfast", I went to my room to grab my pill bottle and take my medicine, noting that I would have to ask Recovery Girl for a refill in a day or two. Then I changed into some sweats and a muscle tank top before pulling my dark purple hair back into a ponytail and pinning my bangs back so that they were no longer in my face. As I reached down to tie my sneakers' laces, I scratched Yuzuki's chin as he tried to force himself under my hands. Finally being able to tie my shoes with the cat on my feet, I stood up and stretched a bit. I grabbed my phone, earbuds, and the armband I put my phone in when I ran and walked out of my room. I passed by the kitchen as I put my armband on and put my phone in it.

"I'm heading out now, Dad!" I called into the house as I bent down to pet Hana, Dad's cat, one more time before I left.

"Be safe!" he called back. "Tell Makoto I say 'hello'!"

With a promise that I would, I walked out the door and closed it behind me, making sure neither of the cats escaped. I took a deep breath of the crisp morning air before walking to the tree Mako and I always met in front of and saw that he wasn't there. I checked the time just to see if I was early or if he was late, but was disappointed when I saw I was a few minutes early.

"Damn," I said quietly. "Now I don't have anything I can hold over him."

While waiting for Mako, I took the time to plug my headphones into my phone and find a song I wanted to listen to when we would start running. The few minutes passed quickly and Mako was right on time. His messy, deep maroon hair catching the morning light like his eyes. One of the things the two of us had bonded over was our eyes. They didn't look the same, but we'd both been bullied for them in the past. While my eyes had a kaleidoscope of blues and purples, Mako had heterochromia. His right eye was bright orange and his left eye was an equally bright red.

"Hey, Koko!" he said cheerfully, a bright smile on his face as he pulled an earbud out of his ear.

"Hey, Mako," I responded with a smile. "How are you doing this morning?"

"I'm doing alright," he said with a small pout appearing on his face. "Although, my orange shirt was still wet from the wash, so I had to wear my yellow one."

"Oh don't pout," I said with a small laugh. "Yellow suits you just fine."

"You're just poking fun at me because you were able to find your purple tank top today," he retorted.

"Whatever," I said while putting an earbud in, knowing it was true. "Are you ready to head out?"

"You bet," he responded, clicking shuffle on his music."Normal route?"

"You know it," I said with a large smile as I clicked play on my music and put the other earbud in.

The two of us made our way on our usual jogging route. As usual, we didn't talk about anything while running, but that may have also been because we were both anxious about what U.A. could bring for us. Within a half-hour, we got back to our houses and said our goodbyes so that we could do our separate morning routines. I walked back into my house, not breathing super heavily because I was used to the run, but my face was still somewhat flushed with exertion.

"You back already?" Dad asked from the kitchen sink, washing his coffee mug. "That was pretty quick."

"Guess Mako and I both have some nerves then," I responded, pulling my earbuds out of my ears and wrapping the cord for storage. "After all, we are starting the Hero Course today."

Dad hummed in agreement as I went back to my room to do some stretching before showering. As soon as I walked in, Yuzuki greeted me from my bed with a meow.

"Good to see you too," I mumbled while scratching under his chin, causing a purr to come from his throat.

Glancing at my alarm clock, I realized that I only had another half an hour before I had to leave with Dad to get to the school. Sighing, I stopped petting Yuzuki and began stretching. Afterward, I quickly showered and got changed into my school uniform. Pulling my mostly dry hair back into a half-up ponytail, I looked at myself in the mirror and gave myself a silent pep talk. I wrapped the hair tie around one last time before letting my hands fall back to my sides. I nodded at myself as I fixed my bangs a little bit, satisfied with my appearance, and walked back into my room from the adjoined bathroom. I walked over to my bed and grabbed my backpack and made sure it had all of the school materials I would need. After seeing I had all of my stuff, I slung my bag onto my back and gripped the strap.

"Kiki, you ready?" I heard Dad call from the front door.

"Yeah!" I responded. "I'm coming!" I turned back to my bed and bent down to give Yuzuki, who was still laying on my bed in "loaf mode", a kiss on the head, which he shoved into my face as an attempt to get attention faster. "Goodness, you're so needy," I mumbled, standing back up straight.

I pet his head one more time before walking out of my room and to the front of the house, where Dad was waiting with his hero gear on. When I got over to him, he didn't open the front door right away, but instead straightened my tie, which I had spent 10 minutes on to try to make it look presentable but apparently failed to do so. After he fixed it, I gave him a grin that he responded to with a wide smile of his own.

"Let's go," he said, pulling the front door open.

We both walked out of the house and to the car in the driveway. Makoto, with his hair styled this time and his school uniform on, walked out of his house at the same time and came over to the car.

"Hey, Mr. Aizawa!" He greeted cheerfully. "Thanks for agreeing to take me to school! Shiore wasn't sure what she was gonna do with Ichika if she drove me. She gets carsick, you know."

"It's no problem at all, Makoto," Dad responded. "I'm happy to help out. And please, as long as we're not at school, just call me Shota."

Makoto and I were two of the only people Dad ever let his strict and uncaring facade down around. With me, he never even bothered to try to keep his facade up but he tried to keep it up with Makoto around. He gave up on that too though after we'd seen him cry while watching the Lion King with us when we were kids.

"Alright," Dad started. "Hop in the car and let's get going, you two."

Mako and I nodded and both got in the backseat of the car. The car ride was pretty quiet, but that was also normal for us. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence like one might expect, but to someone outside of us three, it might appear to be so.

The car ride wasn't very long, maybe a half-hour or so, but it felt longer as I thought of all the possibilities of today. Soon enough, Dad pulled into the staff parking lot of the school, by the back of the building, and parked. As he turned the car off, Mako and I grabbed our bags and stepped out of the car, taking the time to stretch our legs before stepping toward the building. Right before we walked into UA High School, Dad stopped us.

"I'm proud of you," he said. "Both of you. You're exceptional young people and I'm sure you'll be some of the best students this school has ever seen."

I swear both Mako and I started tearing up as we practically threw ourselves into Dad's arms, hugging him tightly. I squeezed his waist tightly as I felt the tears start to overflow. Dad wrapped his arms around the two of us and we stayed like that for a few more seconds before Mako and I released him.

"We'll make you proud, Dad," I responded, wiping the tears from my eyes.

Mako nodded vigorously as he wiped his eyes as well. Dad let out a small chuckle and placed a hand on top of my head.

"Both of you already have," he responded with a smile.

Mako and I turned to each other with wide smiles before turning back to Dad, who put his hands in his pockets. Without another word, he gave us another smile and walked in through the door we'd opened, kissing the top of my head as he passed by.

"He's the kind of hero I want to be when I graduate," Makoto said.

"Same here," I replied with a small smile. "He does it for the right reasons and not for the fame."

"It is strange that not many heroes choose to be humble," Makoto told me with a newfound determined glint in his eyes. "I'll be one of them."

I nodded in agreement and we finally walked into the building, looking at the place that would be our path to becoming the heroes we longed to be. We stopped in the middle of the empty hallway.

"Ready or not?" I asked with a small smile, holding my fist out to Makoto.

"Here we come," he responded with a grin, bumping his fist with mine.

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

A/N

Hey everyone! This is my first MHA story and I'm super excited to share it with you. A few things, unless it is otherwise specified, all artwork is done by me. I don't claim to own any of the My Hero Academia characters or plotlines. Those all belong to the creators. I do, however, own Keiko Aizawa as well as her parents. My friend owns Makoto and his family, including Shiore and Ichika. He has given me permission to use him in this story. The picture at the top of this chapter is what Keiko looks like! On the left is her everyday clothing and the right is her hero suit. Anyway, I'm super excited for you all to read this story that I've spent so much time on!

-Sticks

Word Count: 3007 words

[squish-bean-uwu]

-Fruit Pie-

A Moceit fanfic by @.Purple Hair and Crofters on Amino. (I've been given permission to post it here since they do not have a tumblr as of yet)

Triggers: Mild Swearing, Sympathetic Deceit, lots of food mentions

Words: 1955

Link: http://aminoapps.com/p/t5ga2k

Spreading his arm so that he could reach the edges of the table, Patton swept the cloth across the surface and watched as the mess left by an adoreable but rather irritatingly disruptive toddler disappeared. He ensure that the correct amount of cutlery was placed into the metal cylinder at the centre of the table, as well as menus stashed behind it and a pair of salt and pepper shakers set out neatly in view at the far end of the table.

He stood back for a second, tucking the dirtied cloth into the tie of his apron and, tilting his head, smiled in satisfaction. There never were many people in the diner at any given time, but when there were people he wanted to ensure that they enjoyed it as much as was possible.

A small chiming sounded it's way from the door. Patton turned his head so that he could look over his shoulder, a smile breaking out on his face as he saw who it was. Quickly running towards the kitchen, he pushed open the doors and into the heat.

Despite the little diner not being overly filled - in fact never even reaching its full capacity - the kitchen was still hot to the point of sweltering; clanging, yells, bubbling and cracking sounds all seemed to originate from every corner of the room, various people rushing from pot to pot, testing this and stirring that to ensure that everything was cooked to perfection. Humming to himself, Patton swerved out of the way of a waiter who was carrying several plates on his arms as he went towards the main diner, nodding in greeting towards Patton before disappearing though the double doors.

"Logan!" He called over the noise, looking around for any sign of his main chef, a small frown flowering on his face "He's here and I need-"

"It's gooseberry as requested". Patton spun around to see Logan stood behind him, a freshly made fruit pie held out in front of him. "A most unusual flavour, however I am sure your intuition on this can not be flawed". There was a slight sarcasm to Logan's voice, but Patton just smiled and took the pie.

"You're the best" he proclaimed before sidestepping and walking past Logan. "Remind me to give you a bonus at some point, you deserve it!"

"Don't worry, I will not forget" Logan mumbled, smiling slightly as he watched the jovial man disappear into the dining area before looking back around the kitchen, frowning and walking around "Roman! I told you not to put the chicken in yet! It's going to be so fucking dry I could use it as a towel!"

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

Boots crunching against the gravel as he walked up to the entrance of the diner, a slight smile began to form on Deceit's face. Just the appearance of the small place was enough to put him into a good mood; large plants in pots placed around the perimeter of the diner, bright colours used to paint it and a neon sign flashing "Lil' Pat's" just seemed so ghastly to some, and yet held the ability to strike joy into Deceit's frozen soul every time he saw the place.

The familiar chime of the bell as he entered alerted people of his entrance, his smirk growing as he saw Patton spot him before rushing into the kitchen. Walking over to the window, Deceit sat in the same spot that he had sat in every day now for the past two years - two years today.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

The diner was new. Recently opened, as Deceit had heard, by some man named Patton Morales. Not long ago moved into the area, else Deceit would of heard about him before, his willingness to reinvent and save the failing local diner also catching his attention. It had been expected that the place would shut down and be taken over by one corporate company or another, so the moment that it was revealed that some new guy with no history of owning a diner would be taking it over, talk spread like wildfire across the community. And no one took more intrigue as to the mysterious saviour of a local treasure then Deceit.

As he rounded the corner, he had to stop and blink for a few moments as he registered the brightness of the colours. The forward nature of the design. He frowned. It could always have been worse. He didn't know how, but he's sure that it could of been worse

Walking into the diner, the first thing he noticed was the music: some sort of cheesy song that was probably put on in a vain attempt to distract the customers from the ghastly decoration.

"Welcome!" It took all of Deceit's self restraint not to jump into the air as a smiling man suddenly appeared in front of him. He seemed oblivious as to how much he had truly scared Deceit, a sense of relief settling over him as he realised this fact. The man had dirty blonde hair, which he was at present pushing out of the way for his glasses that rested on his face. His head was tilted so slightly, and there was something.. mesmerising about him.

"I assume you're Patton Morales?" Deceit questioned, holding out a hand for the man, one corner of his lip rising in a smirk "Pleasure to meet you. Deceit Lyand."

Patton took the hand extended towards him and shook it, smiling wide "Pleasure to meet you as well Mr Lyand." He looked around, eyes falling on an empty table near the window "If you wouldn't mind sitting over there, I'll start your order. Do you know what you might like?"

Carefully slipping into the seat, Deceit adjusted his gloves and removed his hat, placing it on the empty space next to him. He thought for a moment before smiling up at Patton. "A fruit pie. Any flavour. Surprise me."

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

He'd gone to the diner everyday since. He was lucky that he owned his own business, meaning that he held the ability to take a break whenever it suited him, and whenever he desired the company of the other man. Deceit wasn't entirely sure how, but a bond had grown between the two. On busy days, Patton had enough time to serve him and talk to him for a few minutes before being reluctantly forced onto the next person who walked through the door. When business was slow, Patton would often take the empty seat opposite Deceit and the two would talk for however long it took for Deceit to finish the pie which Patton had provided for him.

Then there was the pie itself. Patton had taken what he had said that first day to heart, never failing to surprise him as to what fruit concoction he was being given that day. One day it would be something as simple as apple or rhubarb or cherry, the next a complex combination of cinnamon, blackberry and raspberries.

On the occasions when he could get a hold of more exotic fruits, Patton designed a recipe to use them; pineapple and raspberry, once even mango and blueberry. Obviously, there were still the traditional ones that were dotted inbetween Patton's random ventures of flavour, just to remind Deceit as to why he had fallen for the food to begin with.

Ok. So if he was being entirely honest, something which was relatively uncommon for him around others, he hadn't just fallen for the food. He'd also fallen for Patton.

Deceit was snapped out of his trance as he heard the tapping of feet against stone, looking up to be greeted by Patton's beaming face. In his hands he held a pie, steam still pouring off it. He'd never quite understood why, but Patton had always felt it necessary to make each pie from scratch and finish cooking it moments before his arrival.

In fact, Patton had always done this because he had wanted to impress Deceit, a small part of him terrified that the man would leave if his pies were anything below the standard level. Today, however, he had simply wanted him to take his time in appreciating the food, something that happened often, but was incredibly important to happen today. Placing it down in front of Deceit, he untied his apron and draped it over the back of his seat, sitting opposite the other man as was custom.

"It's gooseberry" he said happily, watching as one of Deceit's secret smiles spread across his face. The man didn't seem to realise when they appeared, making them all the more special for Patton on the times when he notices and has the chance to appreciate them. "It was the very first pie I ever made you."

"I remember" a small laugh escaped past Deceit's lips "I thought you were crazy. Then.. well it turned into my favourite, if only for the sentiment behind it" he looked up at Patton.

Patton shuffled slightly where he sat, sitting on his hands to stop himself from fidgeting. He bit his bottom lip, a large smile on his face as he watched Deceit. He could even pinpoint the moment he had realised he was in love.

It had been raining heavily over the past couple of days, and Patton wouldn't have opened up were it not for the fact that he lived almost next door to the diner. The roads were flooded, pavements turned to rivers and the car park for the diner had transformed into a swimming pool. Needless to say, noone came into the diner. That was, until Patton had been sat on one of the tables, humming and swinging his legs, when the door chimed. It had been Deceit, drenched head to foot in water, looking as though he'd just walked through a storm - which essentially he had - but grinning. "I couldn't miss your pie now could I?" That. That had been the moment that Patton realised he was in love.

Patton looked away for a moment, staring out the window, a ghost-smile appearing on his face as he remembered the moment. It had been a revelation to say the least, but one which he had been so relieved to accept. At the least he now knew what he was feeling, the turning in his stomach and the flattering in his chest which he felt every time Deceit walked in.

Watching Patton gaze out of the window wistfully, Deceit slowly reached into his pocket and withdraw a small, diamond encrusted ring. Placing it on the top of the pie, he coughed. "I think there's something in the pie that shouldn't be there."

"Hmm what?" Patton frowned, turning 'there shouldn't be I made it from scratch. I can make a new one if you-"

His breath caught as his gaze fell onto the ring, rested carefully against the pastry. He barely managed to drag his eyes upwards, clasping a hand to his mouth and trying not to squeal and Deceit reached over, picking the ring up and taking Patton's free hand. Tears prickled his eyes. He'd just wanted to make a good pie.

"Patton Morales" Deceit smiled "you're fruit pies are the best thing that I have and ever will eat. You're imagination is second to none, your determination is above all others and every moment that you've spent talking to me has been a moment well spent." His hands were shaking "So, would you do me the honour of becomming my husband?"

Patton nodded, crying. No sooner had the ring been slipped onto his finger as he was throwing his arms around Deceit's neck.

"I must make really good pies" he mumbled between tears, causing Deceit to laugh and hold him tighter.

"You sure do."

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┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊  ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊ ˚✧

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚➶ ｡˚   ☁︎

┊         ┊       ┊   ☁︎                

┊         ┊        ☪︎.                

┊         ✱      ☆˚         

┊         ★   ✧                                                       

✧ ¤    . ┊ .  ✱˚    

             ★

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊       ┊         ☆

┊   ｡    ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊      ☆｡˚. ੈ

┊         ┊   ｡  ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ¤｡˚ ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊       ☪☆                                      ✩

┊         ┊                     ｡˚.

   ☆     ┊ . ˚                                   ☆

          ˚✩

So this was actually for the #FoodDrinkContest but I became far more involved in it then I had first thought I would. Genuinely, love this x

Also, please thank SQUISH for helping with inspiration for this, as the entire diner au is part of a rp we're doing -PCAC