#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[tredawakandan]

5 Of My Favorite Krakoa Era X-Men Moments

(Storm won't be included since I already always talk about her from time to time😅💯. Just search Storm or Ororo Munroe on my page 👌🏿)

1. Charles and Magneto vs Nimrod and Omega Sentinel.. Been loving the Orchis involvement and how Charles and Magneto ultimately started Krakoa with one of their first missions being to stop Nimrod and the organization. Ultimately they failed and this was the first meeting of theirs during this era. Cool deaths and dope rage moments 👍🏿

2. Magneto Dying for Arrako .. Definitely was the dopest part of the event . Although i disliked how Uranos ran threw the Arrako mutants(in general i have a problem with the lack of development from the writers regarding the Arrako Mutants) Magneto death was very impactful since as we know him and storm have refused resurrections.. He survived being punctured and managed to raise hell for his remaining time. Salute To Erik💯

3. One of the benefits of resurrections for mutants are the natural buff they get. Having been shown to get stronger after they die is a dope concept and great way to write in unexplainable instances where characters seem stronger then they would be normally 😅. Also loved seeing writers become more intimate on how mutants can use their powers. Mentioned before but Manifold/Eden reveal is still my favorite. I feel in the future just how we got the Omega Mutants list at the beginning of this era we need either a redone copy(with prominent Arrako mutants listed as well) or A near Omega pending list that would include Synch ,Eden,Polaris, Cable(Although he technically is Omega) etc

4. The reunion of Synch and Old woman Laura was dope. Having spent centuries together and Laura sacrificing herself for him ,it was assumed to be a tragic heartbreak. But seeing her having survived and come back is definitely a moment I felt genuine happiness for Synch👌🏿

5. Although I didn't read New Mutants I enjoyed the issue with John and James reunion. Warpath has been a favorite mutant of mines since The Gifted show(was dope & you should definitely check it out) . Also love seeing him in comics. With his wife variety of abilities he should be on a X-Men team or at least another comic regarding mutants. Also loved John Proudstar new costume.

[alabyte]

3, 5, 27, 29, 47 for TBB ask game? 👀

I was going to do it yesterday but I forgor 💀

Thank you for the ask fren!!

3. Which Batcher would you want to be your BFF (not SO)?

Objectively speaking, probably Tech. I'm quite socially anxious and can often misunderstand contexts (my rejection sensitivity could never) and someone's intentions, so fundamental straightforwardness and explaining seemingly obvious things is literally essential when communicating with me. And I think we would have something to talk about - since childhood, my areas of interest have been space and zoology, and now my specialty is mainly biology in general and linguistics. Nerd to nerd communication!

5. Which Batcher would you take camping with you?

Without hesitation - Wrecker. Listen, I am a home person and am not suited to being in the wild in any way. Not only will I not be able to pitch a tent and start a fire, but I will be generally stressed out that everything is not going as it says in the Camping Guide For Dummies™, and I need someone to ground me in these moments. Wrecker is as simple as three cents in the most positive meaning of this phrase, he will just put his huge hand on your shoulder, say «nahhh, it's fine» and will not let you freak out over stuff. Wrecker is a sweetheart, I'm sure camping with him would be fun!

27. Tell me a random headcanon you have about Tech

Not really mine, this headcanon was mostly created by @heksahela , but I love it with all my heart. Tech has one particular special screwdriver that he always has with him. It is literally his most valuable and his most versatile tool. Repairs? Screwdriver. Need to open something? Screwdriver. Fight? SCREWDRIVER. If you argued with him and saw a screwdriver in his hands, this clone chose violence and is a threat, you can start running.

29. Tell me a random headcanon you have about Crosshair

Speaking about the screwdriver - guess who tested his brother's patience more often than others? Crosshair has a puncture scar on his left hand, which is exactly the mark from being hit with a screwdriver during a fight with Tech. This fight happened back when they were cadets, but if you think they stopped fighting later, think again.

47. Tell me an angsty headcanon you have about Crosshair

In clones, memory works a little differently than in natborns. They spent their whole lives side by side with their brothers, learned their habits, distinctive features and details, and among the 99s this differed little, even if their faces were not the same. Their memory relies heavily on everyday details, which create a cohesive image in their minds that is impossible to forget.

After some time in the Empire, after the destruction of Tipoca City, Crosshair finds himself slowly beginning to forget. At first, unimportant little details about the brothers' habits were erased from his memory when he could not remember on which side of the bunk Wrecker usually left Lula or in which mug Echo poured his caf. Then - the details of the appearance, when he realized that he did not remember where the one of the paint lines was located on Hunter's armor. Crosshair finds himself thinking that he can barely remember the intonation and voice in which Tech told yet another useless fact on the mission.

He's forgetting — slowly but inevitably. And he can't do anything about it.

[idyllic-affections]

Hello Aphe!! How are you?? I hope you're feeling well!! It's been some time since I sent an ask (I probably sent one days ago, but I can't remember TT).

I created a really nice QSMP OC with a friend of mine and now we are having a lot of fun creating lore!! Creating OCs is an amazing thing when we want to. Genshin OCs are... rather difficult I guess, the characters ingame have too much details AAA. It can always look too much or too simple, depending on what you do. My personal OC nightmare is genshin, all my OCs start to look like Emilys for me, probably because detailing them is hard TT

Alsoooo, I had just reached act 4 in Sumeru... then my eardrum was punctured and I can't play for some days now, that's definitely the world against me TT

Do you mind if I send you more asks during these days? I'm feeling quite lonely and every time I see a notification from Tumblr from your blog I get happy loll

Please drink some water!! It's hot!!

-🦢 anon <3

hi dear!!!!! i am, thank you <33 i think it has been a bit since i've seen you in my inbox, yes! but to be honest, i have very bad time blindness, so i can't be 100% sure.

that's awesome!!!! oc creation is a lot of fun, especially with friends. genshin ocs, and hoyoverse ocs in general, ARE quite difficult. i spent about two or three hours designing my oc lian's outfit, and it's... quite simple, really. it's not an insanely complicated look AJSKAHANGN

OH NOO i hope you heal & feel better soon!!

you're always welcome to do so!!!!!! anytime you want to send me something, please do <3

i will!! but make sure you do the same. it is very hot!!

[singhalindustriesprivatelimited]

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[starbuckie]

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

challenge: 1k writing challenge by @bubblebuckys

prompts: “wanna fuck?” “i don’t want to ruin our friendship.” “i won’t.” “i will.” and the situation of your car breaking down on the way to your best friend’s wedding but luckily, they offer up their asshole sibling to take you the rest of the way of the very long road trip.

pairing: college!bestfriend’sbrother!bucky barnes x reader

words: 5.2k words

warnings: SMUT 18+ (car sex, protected sex, spanking, choking), angst, fluff, bucky is a grumpy lil nerd, reader is gonna be annoying the fuck out of him

summary: y/n is going to stab becca barnes for ever introducing her older brother to her. also for sending him to pick her broken down car from a musty side of the highway. but she can’t help but thank whoever got bucky barnes to dirty talk like it was his job in the two years since she slept with him last.

a/n: happy 1k dya!! i’m so happy for you and so happy that i could help you celebrate your big milestone with this fic. i absolutely adore college bucky and this was just so fun to write. this is not beta-read and any and all mistakes are mine. just a reminder to reblog and leave comments, it really helps a lot with motivation so i can create more content without wondering if people actually enjoy it. so without further ado, please enjoy<3

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Just ten minutes ago, Y/N had been speeding down some highway under the burning afternoon sun, sunglasses perched on the tip of her nose like some old Hollywood type starlet. Her heart had been lighter, her smile had been wider, and her foot had hurt a hell of a lot less because she wasn’t kicking the shit out of the car’s now-flat tire.

“Fuck!” Sweat beaded at her forehead on the side of the highway as the cars speeding behind her took no sympathy to her situation. A rock sat behind the car, such a small item that obstructed the road, but she hadn’t noticed it until it punctured her front left rubber and sent her slowing down. The old car rumbled to a stop and since then she’d managed to push the stupid piece of junk to the weed covered side pavement, bringing the rock with her so no other hopeless bastard would get stuck in her predicament.

Clive- actually, was it Clive? Yes, yes it was Clive, Utah that she was stuck in. Clive was pretty far from California. As Rebecca Barnes’ best friend, she was obligated to carry out her maid of honor duties. Which she did, pretty damn well if she said so herself. The eighteen year-old girl and her boyfriend had made a snap decision in the spring of their freshman year of college to get hitched, and with that quick decision came the quick planning. A rustic July wedding in Tahoe, quite aways from Brooklyn, but the couple had insisted, wanting to be closer to the schools they’d be transferring to that coming fall. Every other event, the bachelorette party, the dress fittings, the excessive amount of partying on the other hand had all taken place on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.

Y/N had fulfilled every wish, from helping to send out invitations and picking out decorations and setting up guest tables in between her classes as a sophomore in college. It still boggled her mind how her younger best friend had grown up so quickly, and how the time seemed to only pass quicker as the wedding approached. Planning took place during sophomore finals, and June was dedicated to the quaintest details. She’d taken two weeks of vacation from her job at the small deli corner in Queens to road trip her ass across the country, and though Y/N herself was normally extremely unorganized she had to give props to herself for pulling her shit together for her best friend’s wedding.

But the last step, the most important step, was actually being there for the wedding, and now she was fucking up all of her hard work. Of course, the event was two days away, but Tahoe was also sixteen hours away and there was no service within twenty miles that would be able to fix up her car quick enough to get back on the road in time.

For once in a near perfect five months, Y/N was completely and utterly fucked.

With a loud groan, she lifted her arms from leaning on the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door. She landed in the seat and dug through her Kate Spade purse for her phone. Becca’s name came up as her first emergency contact as it had been since wedding planning began, and she clicked on it immediately.

Y/N held the phone up to her ear, listening to the drawled-out noise of the call, biting her lip in anticipation. The bride was probably busy preparing for the rehearsal dinner the night after or at the spa, but regardless, the ringing stopped and the light, chirpy voice of Rebecca soon-to-be Carmichael-Barnes came through the speaker.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up? There anything wrong?” Y/N was a little offended that her best friend immediately assumed the worst, but maybe it’d make the delivery of her news easier.

“Kinda? A stupid rock blew out my front tire, so I’m kinda stranded in Utah.” It was dead silent on the other end of the phone, and she could feel disappointment radiating from her best friend. Becca had taken a big risk with Y/N- she wasn’t known for being the most reliable, because she was carefree and a trademarked wild child, but she had done everything perfectly up until she got stuck on the side of the road. A heavy feeling of guilt sat at the bottom of her chest and she fought off tears as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, Becca, this is supposed to be your big event, and I just fucked up being the maid of honor while you should be relaxing.”

“It’s fine, Y/N, we’ll think of something, please don’t worry. There’s gonna be a simple solution-” The pitch of her voice went up an octave as an idea popped into her head. Y/N could just see the smile that took over her best friend’s face, and she fought the urge to hang up because Barnes’ ideas were not known for being brilliant. “Oh, babe, I’ve got the perfect solution! I literally just got off the phone with Bucky, he’s half an hour behind you. Still don’t understand why you two refused to come together because you're coming from the same city and…”

Truthfully, she did not give a damn as to the rest of what her best friend was saying. Becca probably was rambling on and on about the reasoning as to why the two wouldn’t carpool, but Y/N could only try to imagine what being in a car with Bucky Barnes for seven hours or more would be like.

“Alright, I’ve just texted him now! He’s getting gas but will be there soon.”

What.

“Becca, no, he really doesn’t have to do this, I can call the company and wait here-” Anything besides being in a car with your asshole brother.

“Don’t talk nonsense, Y/N, it’s fine. I need my maid of honor here by tomorrow to celebrate my last days as an unmarried woman.” Without leaving room for Y/N to speak, she sped up her words, finger hovering over the button to hand up. “Bye! I love you! Bucky will be there in thirty minutes!”

The call went dead, and Y/N had half an hour to prepare for Bucky’s arrival.

She started by calling the nearest towing company, negotiating to bring it to the motel at the border of Utah and Nevada. It was about three or four hours west, but she figured that she could survive that long in a car with Bucky.

Her next order of business was to repeatedly smack her head onto her wheel, waiting for death to take her before Bucky did.

And that was exactly how he found her, slumped over like she’d been shot dead. Bucky honked twice, gaining her attention as she shot up with a glare. She turned around, seeing a man wave at her through the front window of his car. Barnes.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself from the hot car, stepping out into the equally hot air as Bucky did the same, and-

Oh Lord. Only two years since she had seen him last, and James Buchanan Barnes looked good.

He was taller, at least four inches taller than she had last seen him, and his once-long hair had been cut into a fluffy, shorter style, matching his stubble way too well in a messy, but cute way. And his muscles- his arms were bigger. So. Much. Bigger.

He donned a ratty Star Wars tee and a pair of black jeans, a pair of dirty combat boots at his feet. But he looked good in it. Fuck him.

“Buck.” Y/N sniffed, trying her best to keep a neutral expression.

The boy- no, the man responded with a similar face, offering nothing but a tight-lipped smile as he slammed the door shut. “L/N.”

There it was.

She snorted at the snark he shot at her, grabbing her luggage out of the back of her car and loading it into his. “We can leave the car here, I called the towing people and they’re gonna bring it up to the next motel.”

That seemed to surprise Bucky and it showed. His face was caught with pinched eyebrows and parted lips. “You called before?”

“Yeah…” Y/N answered slowly, “why do you sound so surprised?”

“That’s just not your thing.” His answer just stewed with sass and it pissed her off more than ever. She swore there was smoke coming out of her ears.

He pried her duffel bag from her clenched hands harshly, nearly smirking out how irked she visibly looked. With a childish pout she dropped the rest of her bags to the dusty ground (probably more hurtful to her than to him, though she’d never admit it) and stomped to the passenger seat.

He followed soon after, plopping in behind the wheel with a heavy sigh and grabbing his sunglasses off the dash with his prosthetic hand. She watched him, how he acted so normal when their situation was everything but, and failed to keep herself from speaking her mind.

“Those glasses make you look like a douchebag, Bucky.”

He stuck the key in the ignition, keeping his eyes on his movements intently and choosing to actively ignore her taunting. The car took off after a few sputters, and they were back on the road.

The first three hours, playing Bucky’s favorite Utah radio station (“Why do you have a favorite Utah station?”) as they ignored each other in bliss. The sun had begun to set, pinks and orange swirling in the sky to give off golden light across the barren land.

Y/N snapped photo after photo- it was so pretty that she had to- but that’s when she started admiring Bucky again. This time she didn’t even try to be subtle.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” Bucky questioned quietly.

“Just wondering how you kept your looks up so well.” Y/N scoffed, brushing off his question. “Only two years into college and I look like I haven’t slept since I was ten. I mean, look at these fuckin’ eye bags…”

She inspected her face in the mirror, prodding and poking at the skin. “I think you look just as pretty as you did in highschool, sweetheart.” Bucky commented.

His words woke dusty butterflies up from their slumber, their delicate wings wildly flapping around in Y/N’s stomach. It took all of her willpower to not deflect his compliment, and she mumbled a thanks under her breath.

They didn’t speak for an hour after that.

It was only once the sun had gone down and the moon came out to play did Siri warn them that the motel was coming up. Bucky’s hands hadn’t left the wheel either, keeping to a stoic expression and nearly still posture as he drove the two of them. Y/N was yawning, fiddling with her phone without a thought in her bored head, up until a song she hated came into the station they were listening to.

She leaned forward to switch it, but it turned classical and she had to groan. Her fingers tapped different parts of the screen, just begging to find something pleasing to listen to. His selection was shit.

He hit her hand away from the console, his disgruntled face concrete. “Stop touching that, it’s not a damn video game.”

“Not my fault you enjoy shitty old music.” She grumbled and hit her head against the back of her seat, turning slightly to admire Bucky’s concentrated face. Not much had changed since high school. A bit more scruff and darker circles under his eyes, but Bucky Barnes was still attractive as hell. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the motel sign in view, about fifty feet up. “Wanna fuck?”

She watched as his eyes widened and his hands fumbled with the wheel, skewing out of the lane. Cars behind him honked angrily at his mistake. Bucky’s face had turned an adorable shade of crimson, the blush rising to his forehead and down his neck barely visible in the night. Once he’d regained control of the car, he trained his eyes back on the road with a sharp glare. “I don’t want to ruin our… friendship,” he grunted.

Y/N snorted, throwing her arms behind her head and yawning. “I wouldn't call four hours of not killing each other in a car friendship, Bucky.” She didn’t catch his small frown, how his shoulders slumped as he finally pulled over into the small motel parking lot. “I won’t, if that’s what you’re really worried about.”

“I will.”

“Just wanted to get some fucking dick, but leave it up to you to ruin something simple as that.” Y/N spat back.

It was nearly cinematic, the way the music died down and the tension rose. The car came to a full stop, Bucky suddenly too aware of the angry glare aimed at the side of his head. “What the hell are you talking-“

“Oh, don’t act stupid, Bucky. Who was it who upped and left that morning, Bucky? ‘Cause I certainly know I was the one sitting and crying on the half-empty bed.”

And just like that, she was thrown back into the full rage and sadness that the summer before college brought her.

They had both been seniors, both not quite popular and most definitely excited to get out of New York. He was an MIT-bound nerd, early admittance and everything, but she was slowly breaking down and falling behind in AP physics. They’d met each other before, with ten years of friendship with Becca there was no way that they couldn’t have run into each other. But it was only when Winnie Barnes suggested that he tutored her did they become close.

Y/N had been mortified of getting a tutor at age eighteen, she should’ve been going out and enjoying what little bit of highschool she had left, but both her mother and Bucky’s had insisted. So it began with the library after school, fingers tracing sentences on a textbook and Bucky whispering formulas across the table.

She didn’t know when or how she started actually listening to those whispers, or when they started to make heat rise to her face or her heart beat a little faster. He didn’t know when the loud, energetic girl with attention issues started to grow on him either.

Over the last remaining months of school, her grades progressed as did their friendship, which was bordering on something… else. He’d come over to her house, she’d go to his and no longer did he tutor her. They’d watch Netflix, hell, Y/N even got Bucky to knit with her, and no one else batted so much as an eye. Graduation passed, and summer just brought on more time for the two of them to spend together.

It was the night at the drive in. Both of them had never spoken of it, but the way that they stared into each other’s eyes for just a second too long as Summer Nights blasted through the car radio spoke what they had wanted to say for so long. Soon enough they were driving home at an alarming speed, holding hands and giggling like idiots through the halls of Y/N’s empty house.

The night was made of shaky hands and fumbling around. Slow movements and sweet whispers of reassurance, getting caught in a night-long romance that neither of them knew would end so abruptly the next morning.

“I was just trying to protect you, sweetheart.”

Y/N scoffed, “From what exactly, Bucky? You broke my heart instead, so great fuckin’ job with that.” She tried to hide her tears with ill-fated words, but he knew she didn’t mean them.

“Hey,” he grew defensive, finally unbuckling his seatbelt so he could sit up in his seat to face her. It was only then did she realize how much Bucky towered over her still in the small car, his head nearly hitting the roof at full height. “It wasn’t easy for me either, you can’t blame that shit on me, Y/N.”

“Well as far as I can remember, you were the only one not willing to take a chance on us, asshole.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you’re not being fair.” Bucky spat.

“It’s cute that you wanna talk about this now like adults finally, two years after it happened. You had so much time to call me about it, but you just had to save yourself from your consequences, right?” His silence answered her instantly. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, trying to stop the ache in her chest with any anger she could grasp. “Typical. I’m Bucky Barnes, I kiss peoples asses and I can’t confront anything I fuck up-“

She barely had time to process Bucky’s hands lifting her over the seat, but she had just enough mind to feel his chapped lips against hers. It was after he opened his mouth against hers, his tongue delving between her lips, did she notice the sensation of two hands on her skin, one cold, one warm. His touch lit her skin up, nerves rattling at his touch as she reciprocated the kiss with ferocity. Her hands flew to his cheeks, massaging the stubble scratching at her palms until he pulled away. Though his heart was nearly beating out of his damn chest, he couldn’t help the fond chuckle that came upon seeing Y/N’s swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. “You never just shut the fuck up, do you?”

His words took a moment to register with her, and he could tell the moment it clicked in. Eyebrows furrowed adorably, she opened her mouth to spout some more shit about how he had no right to kiss her after everything that had happened (they both knew she would pretend to have hated it), but all he could focus on was the stupid button on her jean shorts.

He cupped her cunt through the rough material, and her train of words stopped at the contact.

She was fucked.

Her hips bucked into the heel of his palm, her lips finding home on his once again. Fingers worked diligently to unbutton her shorts, both of them shoving her bottoms just low enough to straddle his thighs. She dove for his zipper, biting Bucky’s lower lip when he laughed at her struggle.

“I can smell you, sweet girl,” he smirked against her lips, “you’re really worked up, ain’t ya?”

“Shut up,” she retorted, slapping his cheek. Oh, no one had ever done that before. He liked it. “When did you learn to talk like that anyways? You weren’t nearly this good last time.”

“We were fuckin’ virgins, Y/N, I’ve learned since then. Turns out that girls in college hump anything that breathes, got quite the experience in a few years.” Her hands paused in smoothing over the burn of his cheek and his grin grew even wider when he realized she was going green. “You jealous, sweetheart? Got no reason to be, only ever thought of you.”

He lifted his hips to drag his jeans down his thighs, and good God, she did not remember them being that muscular and her pussy was just dripping for them. For him, because then he took off his shirt- fuck, he had to have lifted in the last two years. There was no other explanation for the thick, corded abs that took over his torso. Definitely not there before.

Her hands slid down his chest, finding rest against the burning hot flesh that had been revealed to her. She let her fingers dip into the scars that littered his left shoulder, those she remembered as bright as day. Their beauty, how she kissed them and told Bucky how gorgeous he was with everything he hated about himself.

She pulled away from his mouth, just for a minute, and let her lips trace that same path down the angry red lines. His eyes fluttered shut at the light contact, basking in the peace her presence brought his guilt and being.

But as soon as the moment was over, her eyes met his again, only to fly shut as she slammed their mouths together again. Teeth clattered against each other as she palmed over his erection, caged inside his boxers. Oh, he was straining. A wet patch formed on the fabric, showing him to be just as needy as she was.

Without another second to waste, she slipped her cold fingers under the elastic, feeling Bucky jolt when she wrapped her hand around him. He was hot and leaking in her hand and when she finally pulled him out of his boxers, well, she had to keep from her jaw dropping open.

His head painted an angry shade of red, precome smeared all over and she couldn’t fight the urge to tease him. Gripping him in a loose fist, she twirled her thumb around his tip, eliciting a loud groan from Bucky. She jerked him slowly, making sure to apply pressure to the prominent veins that ran up his shaft.

Pulling a condom out of the cup holder- she’d ask him about it later- she ripped it with her teeth and inspected it for just a second to make sure it didn’t tear. Bucky had to chuckle at her cute little pout as she put it up to the light of the night, her elegant features just illuminated in the moon. When she was satisfied with the quality of the condom, she rolled it on him, slowly and tortuously, so he could feel the drag of it in full sensitivity.

Her face lowered to his- with his sweat-beaded forehead, reddened cheeks, and mouth puffing out quick little breaths- and he let her think she had him. Lips taunting his with the little smirk he knew all too well, she believed that she had him under her control.

Then, before she could even catch his movement, his metal hand moved to her throat, fingers pressing at the sides, and the tides flipped. He was the one smirking then- grinning like a hyena when he saw Y/N’s eyes roll back. Her chest was heaving, hips mindlessly rutting down onto his, just begging to have him inside her, and he had her right where he wanted her.

Bucky took her silence, that very rare occasion she wasn’t mouthing off, to line up his cock to her entrance with her free hand. His warm hand sliding up the inside her thighs, he snaked it around her hip, and with one movement, guided her hips down his length. Both of them let out a moan at the intrusion.

It felt so good and natural. Maybe Bucky was lying about the other girls, he probably just watched too much porn in his dorm room to learn that type of dirty talk. He didn’t know really where the dominance came from, but what he did know was that it was doing both him and Y/N wonders by the way her cunt was clamping down on his dick.

She made herself comfortable on his cock at first- after all it had been since that summer two years before that she’d been with someone: him- but after the delicious burn of him went away, she was bouncing up and down on his cock like a desperate whore. Bucky readjusted his prosthetic hand around her throat, pressing harder on the junctures and praying to God that they’d bruise later on. Her gurgles, her body instinctively begging for breath, made him grin, and he smacked her ass harshly one, two, three times, just to make sure she got the message that he was in charge. It may have been two long years without each other, but he was dead set on proving to her that he wasn’t planning on leaving her- never again.

“C’mon, darling, I know you can move better than that, go a little faster.” Bucky groaned.

He dragged her lips down to his by the hand wrapped around her throat, letting their tongues entwine as he slammed her hips down onto his cock. She let out a high whine into his mouth, finding it in her to bite down on his lip as her eyes met his hungrily.

Bucky continued to bring his hand onto her ass one after another, his slapping falling in tandem with that of their skin clapping together. “Bucky, oh- James,” she groaned after he hit her again, “you feel so good.”

Her knees hurt, digging into the edges of the cramped car seat, but she made no move to adjust them. Both of them were too caught up in each other to pay the space they were in any attention. Bucky’s hand trailed down her throat, moving under her shirt to feel up the soft skin of her stomach and sliding the fabric up. She whined at the coolness of his hand on her collarbone, feeling the warm air of the car peak her nipples into little buds.

The more her sweat slick torso that was revealed to him made his mind reel, and he was forced to pull away from the intoxication of her lips to taste her skin too. “Honey, you’re so, so fucking gorgeous,” he groaned against her sternum. He bit, licked and nipped, sucking to make sure dark bruises would show up, biting lightly on her nipples and marking her in every right. “Taste so good too, no one’s ever as good as you.”

Even though her mind and body were on a high of ecstasy and pleasure, his words gave her a sense of renewal, grounding her to that moment in the car with him. Her hips were losing rhythm- she was close and her lower stomach was bundling up inside, just begging to find release.

He could feel her desperation to let go too- he needed to just as bad. Bringing his right hand down to her clit with a harsh smack, he let two fingers rub her wetness around the sensitive bud, teasing the swollen flesh over the edge.

His hips snapped up into hers when her knees began to fail her, heaving with slow breaths as he staved off his orgasm for hers. “You can let go, darling, I’ll take care of you just fine.”

The feel of his calloused fingers against her clit sent her over the edge. Her hand grasped at the closest thing, slamming against the window with its freezing condensation under her palm. Her cunt clamped on Bucky’s cock with wild ferocity and her head fell back, leaving her neck exposed for him to bite down on as he chased his own release.

She continued to ride him, sensually and slowly, and soon enough he was coming into the condom, groaning praises about how she felt wrapped around his dick. He kissed her delicate skin, soothing his marks with chapped lips and pink cheeks. “You look so pretty when you come, sweetheart. ‘M so glad you were so good for me, like you were made to take my cock. God, I love you so much.”

When her cunt finished milking his cock, the soreness kicked in. Bucky lifted her off of his cock from her armpits, letting her slump forwards tiredly on his chest. She was nearly asleep, even with her sweaty hair and come leaking out of her swollen pussy, her eyes drooping heavily. Bucky wanted to clean her up, to care for her and talk with her about how much he missed her, but he could tell she needed to sleep.

Moving his lips to hair, he whispered quietly. “Hey, darling?” She hummed in response, and he could feel her eyelashes flutter lightly against his bare chest. “You wanna get cleaned up? You can get some rest in the backseat, I’ll watch out for your car.”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily with pouty lips. Bucky didn’t know where they stood; he wanted to kiss her so bad in the moonlight, but he stood against it. He helped her pull her panties back up her legs, the jean shorts following behind. He wrapped up the used condom, sneaking out of the car to toss it in the trash without anyone to see him in the parking lot.

By the time he came back, Y/N was wrapped in one of his sweatshirts, curled in a fetal position in the backseat. He took a minute to look at her, longing to lay by her again.

Y/N sensed his eyes on him. His stare was never exactly subtle. “Come over here, James,” she yawned, “you make a comfy pillow.”

She sat up and before she could even fully understand what was going on, he tackled her into the seat, pressing her body against his as she squealed. “You’re squishin’ me, Buck, can we move around?”

His face flushed, and once again he was reduced to being a blushing, stuttering mess around her. “Oh God, yeah, m’ sorry.”

He laid back on the seat with his head crooked against the cold window, gesturing for her to lay on top of him. She complied happily, resting her head right under his chin, her ear right above his comforting heartbeat. Neither of them really felt sleepy anymore, the full force of what their sex was to them hitting them so suddenly. “Honey?” Nothing in response. “Can I tell you something?”

“Buck, can we talk about this tomorrow-”

“I can’t wait to talk about this tomorrow.” He recoiled at the desperation in his voice. Clearing his throat, he tried to start over again. “‘M sorry about that. I just wanted to tell you, before we fucked, like when we were driving but I was being an ass and still now, I guess-” he huffed out a sigh, lost for words as he encompassed the feeling of having her body pressed against his. It had been two years after all. “God, I’m just fucking this up, aren’t I?” Y/N nodded and he chuckled at her blatant honesty.

“I’m not good at emotions. I guess that’s why I left that night, but it’s just because I’m a huge fuckin’ coward. Was scared how big my feelings for you were and that we were goin’ to different colleges, but that doesn’t seem so scary anymore. It’s easy to say this now, ‘cuz I love you and nothing is keeping me back from saying it anymore.”

Those words. She’d been waiting to hear those words in her fantasies for two haunting years, and now that she had- it just made her the happiest girl on the planet. But she couldn’t let him get away with what he did so easily. Y/N grinned against his chest, lifting her head up to kiss his scruffy jaw. “You said that already, Buck.”

“What?”

“Told me you loved me already.” She shrugged.

“When did I- oh.”

You look so pretty when you come, sweetheart. ‘M so glad you were so good for me, like you were made to take my cock. God, I love you so much.

His cheeks reddened again, embarrassed that he had gotten caught before his big planned speech, but Y/N grabbed his hand and kissed it before resting it over her chest.

“But for the record, I love you too. It’s been a long to years without you, Buck.” She smiles. closing her eyes and burrowing herself farther into his chest. “Now get some shut-eye, we’ve got some shit to talk about tomorrow.”

[eleyhsa]

last vb podcast wednesday for a while, topic was fears today! they did talk about probably doing a second season because people have loved it. sorry this is so long again. thanks everyone <3 tw for death and crashes

valtteri is never scared when he is driving, it only hits when you lose the car

he definitely thinks there’s something a bit loose in every driver’s heads to be able to go that fast without fear

valtteri was asked wether grosjean’s survival of his crash made him realise how dangerous f1 is or was it more of ”these cars really are so strong nowadays we are almost immortal”: ”it’s true that 10 years ago there’s probably no change he would have walked away from that, so that does give a certain peace of mind, but there is also the aspect that not matter how strong the car is, if you go to a wall at 300km/h in full speed, you will die no matter how strong the car is, there is limits to the human body you know. but yeah, i remember going in to T4 after the start, and suddenly i see a very bright light, like a fireball in my mirrors. i was so confused and at first i thought there’s no way that’s a car, so i asked the team, is that a car on fire you know, and they said yeah that’s a car. they had no news when i asked and then we just waited, and of course in the end we got good news. to me it was a miracle that he got out almost on his own, walking on his own feet. i can’t remember how long we waited for the news but it of course felt really long.”

after that he was not very excited to get in the car, but it helped that they all saw roman before the restart and he didn’t think about it during the race

oskari: the last driver to die in f1 is jules bianchi, in suzuka of course after colliding with a pickup truck. he’s is your old teammate from f3, and you already earlier told us that bianchi’s death hit you really hard

valtteri: yeah it did, because i knew jules very well, we were already racing together in our karting days and the same age as well. maybe just the personal feeling that someone you know so well and who was such a good guy dies in a sport i love so much and he loved so much, it was hard to accept, and you start thinking is this really worth it. i already had my own health problems that i talked about in 2014, so i already wasn’t in a very stabile place, so i thought about quitting a lot. but from somewhere i digged up some positivity and will to keep going. what helped me to move forward was his funeral in 2015, i was one of the coffin carriers, and when i saw his family and other drivers, there was that kind of collective ”okay, this has happened, and there is nothing we can do about it.” his father also reminds me a lot of mine, he was also jules’ mechanic, and he kept telling us drivers to keep pushing, no point in quitting driving, and i think that helped me a lot

he does think about tracks in different way now, and kinda the thought that ”this corner could kill me” is often with him on track walks. he brings up the saudi track from this year, which is quite speedy, and when he was walking the track he remembers thinking that if he gets a puncture here it’s going to hurt A LOT. ( he used a certain finnish saying but it doesn’t make any sense in english and is from a finnish tv show, i’m sorry lmao ), but when you’re in the car you just drive as fast as you can

therapy and talking to a professional has been very important for valtteri, and in helping to find joy from other things than just f1. he says that after his first time with a sports psychologist, they called him a robot that is just programmed to win races and nothing else matters, and that kind of woke him up. he realized that if he wants a long career something needs to change and you have to be able to enjoy other aspects of life.

he still uses a sports psychologist as recently as this season, and encourages everyone to talk to professionals, because it really helps and shouldn’t be a taboo

the most scared he has been while driving was in austria in a practice a few years back when he went straight to the barrier with only a few rows of tires, and also in imola this year in his crash with george, he hit the concrete barrier first and the slid to the other side, and he couldn’t really tell where the cars was so he was just waiting if it’s concrete or a tire barrier he hits, while waiting for the hit he thinks he often says even out loud ”f*ck this is gonna hurt”

they were talking about other fears valtteri has, and he brought up one time he was really scared. after his first win in russia he had a few a day drinking binge, and wednesday night he was trying to calm down and get it together. it was such a lizard disco (this probably doesn’t make any sense in english either i’m sorry) and he had to go to a hotel to sleep because he was so scared of those damn lizards. luckily the lizards didn’t have a room key to his hotel room 🤣

[scarecrow-supremacy]

Safe with me | Angst

Customizations:

(y/n), your name

Warnings:

Angst

Gore

Fear

Violence

I stood in a large forest clearing, bloodstained hand tightly gripped on the hilt of my wakizashi sword. My chest heaved up and down as shock filled my seemingly chakra-drained body. Where the hell was I?

I looked around, the was sky dark, the moon peeking through the thick cloud, and the fog was heavy. I could feel an ominous breeze whistle through the rustling leaves; a shiver went down my spine. Something was wrong, deeply wrong. But I felt as if I didn't remember a single thing. Nothing. I was blank as a slate.

I felt a dark presence circling the area around me. I tried to call out, yet not noise seemed to come out of my throat. I tried to scream, yet not a single sound came out. Not even a whisper. The dark figures got closer, the fog starting to fade. I tried to turn to look around, yet my body remained immobile. "Close your eyes," A husky voice ordered me. Even though I tried to restrain myself, my eyes fluttered closed, as if under a jutsu. Was this possibly...Genjutsu?

My eyes were opened against will, revealing the horrendous sight. The scene in which my old teammates and sensei had died played in my mind. They were murdered during the Third Great Ninja War. "Go, (y/n)! Just go back to the village!" I heard their cries. Except for this time, I was frozen. I couldn't move a muscle. Their blood splattered as I gasped in terror. Their screams and shouts got flooded out by the sound of my erratically beating heart, blood rushing to my head and ears, a pit forming in my stomach. Anger filled my veins, but there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing...

Flashes of my gruesome past kept revealing themselves to me. The darkened figures from before growing closer and closer to me after each flashback, yet still obscured from my vision. Not that I could do anything about them, my body still immobile. "Open your eyes," The voice, now standing directly behind me, whispered into my ears. The mystery person put their hands on my body, one in my waist, the other around my heaving breasts, their head rested on my shoulder. The being gave off cold energy that was almost inhuman. My stark naked body didn't do anything to help cope with the shivers.

What stood before me made my heart stop. It made me want to break down and cry, sob yet get up and fight...It made me want to tear the person who caused it apart, no mercy shown. They would have deserved it.

Ahead of me stood all of the people I dared to hold close to my heart. The rookies, Kurenai, Anko, Asuma, Gai, and...Kakashi. All of them were tied up, eyes blindfolded and mouth gagged, a black hooded and cloaked figure standing behind them. "Get ready." The creep from behind me whispered into my ear. I couldn't possibly mentally prepare myself for what I was happening.

Each figure plunged their swords into the backs of my loved ones, one by one. First Gai, then Asuma, Kurenai, Anko, Team 3, Team 8, and Team 10... With each stab of the blades, I could feel a surge of pain in the punctured spots, blood dripped from my exposed skin, get no sign of a source. The harsh and metallic scent overwhelmed me. I expected to feel lightheaded, but somehow, my senses seemed to get enhanced. The gore turning to high definition.

Then it came to Kakashi and his students. I tried to gather as much willpower as I could, forcibly closing my eyes. Yet the cold voice chuckled, "Try as you might. But your eyes won't close." Damn! The bastard's right, I mentally grumbled, I can't close my eyes. With a sickening squelch, a blade plunged into Sasuke, Sakura, then Naruto.

Their pure and innocent blood flowed out of their bodies, glistening a malevolent shade of crimson as the watchful light of the moon shown upon us. The blood that oozed from my body pooled at my feet, falling from my stomach and between my breasts. It was an utter atrocity. I was absolutely disgusted. "Oh yes...time for the main show." The voice boomed, "Have fun,"

Kakashi's blindfold and gag were now nowhere to be seen. His onyx and Sharingan eyes slowly opened, meeting mine and frowning. "Any last words?" The mystery voice asked Kakashi as his arms tightened around my hips and boobs.

"Yes," Kakashi croaked, his voice no longer smooth and rich like coffee or dark chocolate, "Get your filthy hands off—"

The creep behind me cackled loudly; I watched in traumatized silence as the figure behind Kakashi cut him off and impaled Kakashi through his back. His body went slack, scarlet fluids rushed out of both of our bodies.

Finally, I was released from my petrified state. I ran to Kakashi's side, his form still twitching. I laid his body on my lap as I knelt down, cradling his head close to my chest. I cried out his name, "Kakashi! Please! Please don't leave me just yet. Stay with me..." I begged him, pleading for his support. I prayed to the Kami that I would anything, anything, as long as my loved ones could stay safe. 

"I'm sorry...(y/n)," That was all he mumbled to me softly, kissing my lips chastely, and closing his eyes. His heartbeat stopped. He was gone, dead, free from the hellish state of life. Salty tears dribbled down my eyes, down my cheeks, and onto Kakashi’s masked face. I cried and cried, holding his head close. 

Pure rage and fury filled up my tremoring body as I shakily rose to my feet. I looked around for the dark figures and the one who held me captive, yet there was nobody to be seen. I yelled and screamed for them to reveal themselves, but nothing came.

Suddenly, all went pitch black.

My eyes fluttered under my closed eyelids. I tossed and turned, only to realize that this hadn't been a Genjutsu, it was a dream, a nightmare. I felt a warm and strong pair of arms pull me closer, heat filling up my quivering body. Eyes watering up, I blearily opened them, only to see my face buried in Kakashi's solid chest. "Shhh, (y/n)," He hushed me, "You're safe with me."

[theterribletenno]

Economy, the Profit warframe

He's based on bullshit economic fuckery like pyramid schemes and NFTs. Because fuck them Corpus and they bullshit money. Do em dirty in front of they dad.

Health: 100 (300 at rank 30) Shields: 100 (300 at rank 30) Armor: 250 Energy: N/A Sprint Speed: 1.1

Passive: Upon death, enemies will drop 1 Tithe for every X damage Economy's weapons and abilities dealt to them where X is equal to 5% of the enemy's max health & shields. These Tithes power Economy's abilities. Economy can carry a maximum of 1,000 Tithes. Every Tithe Economy is holding increases his max shields by 1 point. Dropped Tithes are not affected by Vacuum or Fetch and instead are collected when within 3 meters of Economy.

Ability 1: Compound Interest, 0/50 Tithes: Tap to target up to five enemies within 45 meters and 45 degrees of Economy's crosshairs and force an early payment of their Tithes, dealing 300+X blast damage (where X is equal to 10% of the enemy's max health & shields) and forcing each enemy to immediately drop 10 Tithes. This usage of the ability has a 7.5 second cooldown. Holding the ability will cast it as normal before expending 50 Tithes to lock on to a single enemy within the ability's range, paralyzing them and dealing 100+X blast damage per second (where X is equal to 4% of the enemy's max health & shields) and cause the enemy to drop 1 Tithe per second for the next 5 seconds.

Ability 2: Hedge Fund, 100 Tithes: Economy converts his Tithes into valuable tokens that attract enemies before blowing up in their faces. Spawns 5 proximity activated mines deployed up to 18 meters in a 180 degree arc in front of Economy. Enemies are compelled to move towards the mine tokens which detonate upon contact, dealing 1500 blast damage to all enemies within 8 meters. Enemies that take damage from this ability are blinded and vulnerable to melee finishers for 8 seconds and drop twice as many Tithes upon death.

Ability 3: Safe Investment, 250 Tithes: Upon activation Economy instantly refills his shields and overshields to full. Allies within 15 meters will also have their shields instantly refilled. For the next 12 seconds every 100 points of damage dealt to Economy and his affected allies' shields & overshields will spawn a Tithe at their feet.

Ability 4: Granum's Pyramid, 750 Tithes. When activated enemies can pick up Economy's Tithes, but doing so mind-controls them, making them attack each other. These mind-controlled enemies cause more Tithes to spawn with the same conditions as Economy's. The afflicted enemies deal 20% more damage for every Tithe they pick up, and take 1000 blast damage for every Tithe they picked up upon the ability's termination. Granum's Pyramid lasts up to 20 seconds.

Subsumed Ability: Compound Interest (Will not cause Tithes to drop, tap function costs 0 energy on a 7.5 second cooldown, held function costs 30 energy but does not trigger cooldown.)

Signature Weapons Blackmail: Economy's signature weapon, the Blackmail is something between a rifle and a bladed projectile launcher. Rather than traditional bullet munitions the Blackmail fires credits from its slit barrel, punishing the greedy with weaponized currency. Deals mostly slash damage with low values of impact and puncture, high status at the cost of low crit. High per-hit damage at the cost of low firing speed for a full-auto rifle. When wielded by Economy enemies killed by this weapon are guaranteed to drop credits. Extortion: Originally a branding seal for the Corpus during their early years as a budding society, the Extortion is a swift hammer with a pyramid shaped head. High attack speed at the cost of low per-hit damage, high crit at the cost of low status, deals mostly impact, moderate puncture, and low slash damage. When wielded by Economy this weapon has a small chance to spawn a Tithe on every critical hit.

Closing notes: Yeah he was fun to design. I kind of don't like his name but I've had like a week of this sitting in my drafts and I didn't come up with anything better.

[starcrossedyanderes]

A Yandere Among Us (Rygel ft. Mr. Mittens)

Is the Among Us trend over yet? No? Okay. Anyway Rygel is definitely the yandere in this and Mr. Mittens is just making a cameo guest star appearance.

Why is it when it is raining cats and dogs things don’t get cancelled meanwhile if a single flake of snow is seen everything comes to a screeching halt? This situation was slightly different you supposed but the point still stands.

Despite security warnings about pirates and invaders here you were with a bunch of other teenagers on a spaceship by yourselves. 

Most of you were making the Summer commute over to the colony on Europa as part of the colonization program for juveniles. A large portion of you actually had family on the colony long time and as an experiment on juveniles you would all spend Summer there. Or so it was planned. But fate obviously had different plans for you.

~|~

“Green’s dead and you guys are bickering if someone can even fit in a vent!?”

You spoke up this time.

“I just find it somewhat hard to believe that a person can fit in one of those small vents!”

Yellow narrowed his eyes a blue, the one who asked about the bickering. 

“I don’t know blue, you are acting kind of sus right now.”

Blue gained an appalled look from what you could all tell from the helmet.

“What does sus even mean!? Why would I kill Green when I am his BEST FRIEND?!”

Green leaned back a bit in his chair before stating in an overly calm voice,

“Alright if you say so man but just to make sure let’s put it up to a vote.”

You let out a sigh as you sat next to one of the people you actually slightly knew, purple or as you knew him, Rygel. You were already 2 deaths in and 1 person has been thrown out of the ship. In other words it was pure chaos. You merely pressed the skip button and watched hopelessly as blue was eventually put to pasture.

~|~

Murder #3; Green

Unlike the other murders this one seemed to involve a knife based off the puncture wounds. Meaning that anyone could have done it. And with only 5 people left it was harder to point fingers and have more conclusive evidence. So people did what they usually did and winged it.

Cyan made accusations this time. 

“Okay so since this is becoming way too much like a horror movie lets act as if it is a horror movie. Since this is a case of an imposter sort of situation that means this is more of a twist villain sort of movie. Now twist villains tend to be the most plain and average characters. Not to hot, not the poor ugly person, and their personality seems to generally be ‘nice’. Now based off of that I think the person who fits that category the best would be pink- er, I mean (Y/n).”

You let out a gasp at the audacity of such a statement with such a lack of evidence. And did he just call you the most average!?

“What do you mean it was me? You have no evidence in the slightest!”

Cyan turned to you with a sneer.

“And do you have any evidence that you weren’t the culprit? If not then you how can we know you didn’t do it with such a lack of evidence?”

It was during this stalemate an imposing figure decided to speak up.

“Cyan, enough.”

The words of her crush speaking immediately shut her up.

“If you are wanting evidence (Y/n) and I were in reactor together. Also, last I checked, Cyan you are by far the most basic person I have ever met. Now I personally find it suspicious for you to start accusing a person out of nowhere like that as if you were trying to cover up something you did, hmm?”

Cyan was left gapping like a fish as she was sent out.

~|~

Seeing the telltale purple suit you quickened your pace to meet your friends long strides.  “Hey Rygel, thanks a lot for helping me back there. If it wasn’t for you I would probably have taken cyan’s place.”

Rygel simply nodded his head.

“Of course. I couldn’t just have an innocent acquaintance of mine thrown under the rug for something so idiotic.”

You rubbed the back of your neck as best as you could.

“Yeah, I’m just worried that I may be next. Our numbers are getting smaller after all.”

Rygel decided in your moment of panic to remove his helmet to free his long purple locks and grace you with his gorgeous mocha skin.

“If it helps remember that there’s 3 of us remaining. If you are that worried about you being the next on the chopping block you’re more than welcome to stay in my quarters for now.”

A small blush appeared on your skin.

“Oh, now I don’t know about that-”

Rygel merely shrugged as he turned away.

“If you say so. Just know, the offer will still exist.”

~|~

You hated walking down hallways by yourself. Even more so during these times. Also when it’s dark, and quiet, and also there may be a serial killer after you-

Okay (Y/n). You’re just trying to psych yourself out.

As much as you hated it sometimes you get abhorrently thirsty in the middle of the night. 

So here you were in a dimly lit hall, by yourself, in your pajamas, and still rather sleepy.

Where could this ever go wrong?

Yet a death was not what you were face with in the dim light.

Against the stark black of the floor and in the rather low mood lightning you saw a stark flash of white. 

Okay, make that multiple.

Upon closer inspection they looked like little paw prints. 

And they all lead in the same direction.

Now on the ship no animals or pets were allowed for various safety reasons. So why in the world would there be white footprints?

Of course like the stupid person you were you followed the flour path (as you had now determined it to be) down various hallways.

It was met you that you were more so expecting.

In electrical you were met with the dead body of yellow along with the end of the flour pawprints.

A scream was strangled out of your lips as your eyes also landed on the very much alive 2 bodies of black and purple, or as you know him, Rygel.

And both of them were absolutely covered in blood.

“Wha-how? Why? WHO?”

The two of them turned slowly to look at you. Rygel’s eyes widened before a pained sigh left him.

“Oops. Mittens, was it? Your services seem to no longer be needed.”

“Mittens?! What is going on!?”

Rygel rolled his eyes.

“Well, as you can see, yellow is dead.”

“ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh-”

Rygel merely strolled over to your side as he started to chuckle.

“My apologies, moonlight. I suppose you should get a bit of an explanation before you get fully relocated.”

“What the heck are you even talking ab-”

Rygel made a single swipe of his hand and your lips were immediately shut close. They wouldn’t open.

“This ship is being used to transport me to, and well us now I suppose, my home planet. My chauffeur here has been killing off your crewmates to ensure our safe and successful travels. If they were still present we would have been forced to stop at Europa.”

His long arms wrapped around your shoulders as black started to shake vigorously.

“It’s just much easier and quicker this way isn’t it?”

As you squirmed against his grip black’s shaking suddenly stopped and his clothing dropped into a pile.

Did he dissapear?

Then the pile started to wiggle until a two colored small head popped out.

Black seemed to have become a cat..

Wait.. Mittens..

Oh.

“Mittens here caused those footprints you saw as he used them to lure your peers. As you can see he is a shape shifter. This is also the answer to your question of how someone could ever fit into a vent. Now come dear, it’s gotten late and I desire to retire for the night.”

Rygel was saddened that you stood stock still.

“Moonlight, you’re my mate and shall suffer much worse. Now come before I have to leave you to sleep with yellow.”

[gentlemen-of-lies]

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 3

Making friends with a bald man on a bicycle

(Next chapter) (Chapter 2)

————

Curt had heard about Bletchley Park, not much to spark any sort of special interest, but he knew it held a significant role in the war, breaking German codes, and even developing brand new technology. So he was quite excited to see it in action.

Unfortunately, his expectations were dashed almost as soon as they arrived. According to Owen, while Bletchley was still part of the British Intelligence, it stopped its code breaking in 1946, after the war had ended. And was really only used now for training certain workers, such as teachers, or air traffic controllers. Andrew Hayes was one of the trainers, not a very a cool role in Curt’s opinion. Was he even part of MI6? Apparently he had used to be. Not a Bletchley worker, although his girlfriend had been, but a spy during the war, his German coming in handy. Now his German only came in handy if he so happened to train a German to be a teacher, which he never did. And Curt was now realising why Hayes was a suspect in the first place. MI6 had essentially dropped him as soon as the war had ended, keeping him on only while it was convenient for them.

They didn’t even enter the building, Owen said there was no need for Hayes to accidentally spot them, as it may blow their case. He said it was better to wait until they saw him leave and then keep an eye on him. Their viewing spot was on another bench, round the corner from the building’s main exit and entrance, a good area to observe the entire front driveway, but still keeping out of sight from those leaving and entering. Curt shuffled around in his seat.

“Stop fidgeting,” reprimanded Owen. Curt glared at him.

“I can’t help it, those clothes you gave me are too tight.” Curt had opened up the duffel back once he’d returned to his hostel last night, and had found a white collared shirt, and a brown jacket, much neater and cleaner than his own clothes.

“They look fine.”

“Doesn’t matter how they look, they feel like plastic.”

“When you’re undercover, it does matter how it looks, and your comfort means nothing. Get a hold of yourself, Mega. You’re the one who has to follow Hayes. If he catches me, he’ll know what’s happening immediately.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To make sure you’re following the right person.” Curt raised an eyebrow, annoyed at Owen’s clear conviction that Curt was useless as a spy. Well, he’d sure show Owen. He was determined to solve this case himself, and rub it in both Owen and Cynthia’s faces.

While they waited, Curt observed his immediate surroundings, seeing the green spaces and the gated entrances. He wasn’t one to ponder the past, or be sentimental in any way, but he couldn’t help but think about all that was achieved here during the war, and seeing how soon it had come crashing down. It went from breaking top secret codes, to teaching middle aged men how to land a plane. From the best mathematicians in the world, to people who simply needed a pay check. It certainly made him think about the unpredictability of his own job, how soon things change, how different one day is from the other. It wasn’t a thought he was particularly keen on entertaining, so he brushed it aside.

Besides, he had spotted a suspect. Not Hayes, but Lawson. Lawson was exiting the building from a different direction, out of sight from Owen. Curt followed the man with his eyes. What he really wanted to do was follow him properly, but Owen would never let him. So he tried to keep him in sight as long as possible, maybe work out where he was heading. It was impossible of course; he could have been heading anywhere. All he managed to mentally note down was that Lawson was cycling down a road joining from the other side of Bletchley.

“There’s Hayes,” alerted Owen. Curt pulled his eyes away from where Lawson had rounded a corner, and fixated them on their new target: Andrew Hayes. He was a rather short man, bespectacled, slightly balding. Didn’t look like much of a threat, if Curt was being honest, but then... those who didn’t look like a threat were usually the opposite. Or at least, they were in his experience.

Hayes placed a black briefcase into the front basket on his bicycle, and began to ride away. Owen nudged Curt to stand up.

“Quick, follow him. But don’t be too obvious.” Curt gave him a disbelieving look, about to say something, but Owen pointed firmly at the receding figure, and Curt had no choice but to jog to catch up with the man, slowing down as soon as he could in case he was spotted. How was he supposed to follow a man on a bike without running? Or at least speed walking, both of which would arouse suspicion. But luckily for him, Hayes seemed to be taking it easy, just a nice afternoon bike ride on the rare days of sunshine, so it wasn’t long before Curt could comfortably walk behind him, at a safe distant, and not lose sight of the man.

Curt was expecting Hayes to go straight home, so he wasn’t sure what his plan of action would be afterwards. He couldn’t exactly spy on him in his own home. Maybe with a bit more experience he could, but at the moment, he didn’t want to risk screwing anything up.

But thankfully, the man stopped at a café, parking his bicycle outside and as Curt watched, he went to the counter to order something, and sat down at one of the neighbouring tables. Even better, the café was practically full. Curt had a plan of action.

He waited a few minutes before entering the café himself, ordered a coffee from the girl behind the counter and went over to Hayes.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked, pointing to the chair opposite from where Hayes was sitting. Hayes looked a little bewildered at the imposition, but he gestured at the chair, signalling that it was free. Curt sat down.

“You’re an American?” Hayes asked.

“Yeah. Just arrived here a few days ago.”

“How are you liking it?”

“Weather’s not great, but the people are swell.” Actually the people either ignored him or “took the piss out of him”, a phrase he’d picked up from Bill the receptionist. But he certainly didn’t want to insult the country of the guy he was supposed to making friends with.

“That’s good to hear.” The waiter came over with Hayes’s coffee, along with a jam tart he’d also ordered. Hayes thanked the waiter, and turned back to Curt. “So how come you’re here anyway?” Curt couldn’t believe his luck: Hayes was a talker. Usually he had to work to get any information out of someone, especially a stranger.

“Visiting family. My mom’s side is British.” Wasn’t true of course. His mom’s side had never even left the state, let alone the country. “This is the first time I’ve been though, my job got me travelling...” Curt hoped Hayes would take the bait.

“What’s your job?” Bingo.

“Before the war I worked as a travel writer for a newspaper. I’m finally able to get back to it.”

“You’re lucky you got your job back. I lost mine, work as a teacher now.”

“What was your job before?”

“Oh, just a government position. Nothing too important.” Curt’s coffee finally arrived, and he took a sip of it before continuing. He had to keep Hayes talking, long enough for them to strike up a proper rapport.

“How come you lost it then?” Hayes didn’t respond right away. He took a bite out of his tart.

“Not sure, if I’m honest. The war turned everything on its head.”

“Did you fight in it?”

“No, I still kept my position. Helped the effort of course, but I wasn’t a soldier. What about you?”

“Sure, I fought in it.” Curt hadn’t stepped foot on the battlefield, but Hayes didn’t need to know that. Frankly, it was a good opportunity to make himself look cool. An opportunity he had no intention of letting go. “Of course, our soldiers did a lot of the clean up, but I fought in a few battles.”

“Well, that’s awfully brave of you.”

“Why thank you, sir.” Curt noticed his American accent becoming... extra American. It was a tip he’d soon picked up for himself. The more American you sounded, the more people were intrigued. Especially the ladies.

Curt was about to continue, but all of a sudden, he spotted someone outside. By some pure trick of fate, Lawson was wandering down the street, wheeling his bike beside him. The bike seemed to have a puncture, an observation confirmed by Lawson heading into a bike shop that stood just across from the café. This was Curt’s chance.

He thought of Owen. Owen would be pissed. But what did he care? He didn’t even like Owen. And besides, he was starting to get suspicious- not just of Lawson- but from Owen himself. Why was Owen so adamant that Lawson wasn’t a suspect? What sort of spy ruled out anyone just because of a gut feeling? Curt had a duty to follow Lawson. Owen couldn’t get pissed at him for doing his duty.

“I’m going to have to say good day to you, sir,” Curt said to Hayes, tipping an imaginary hat for added effect. “’Fraid I must get going, gotta deadline to meet. But it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too.”

“You here often? I wouldn’t mind catching up now and again before I head back to the States.” Curt thought he might as well do something he was ordered to do. No point in losing a connection to one of the suspects.

“Um, yes, I come here after work every day.”

“Well then, I hope to see you again.”

“And you. You can tell me all about America. Fascinating place, I’ve heard.”

“It sure is, and I’d be happy to talk to you about it.” He tried to wrap the conversation up as soon as he could, not wanting to lose sight of Lawson. He didn’t know how long he’d be in that shop for. Should he enter the shop? Or simply hang back, follow him when he had exited onto the street?

“Are you alright?” Asked Hayes, suddenly. Shit. Curt’s mind had wandered off and he’d forgotten to continue speaking.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll be going then.” Hayes nodded in acknowledgement, probably getting sick of him by now, which wasn’t what he had intended. Curt turned around, handed a five pound note to the lady at the counter, tipped the waiter, and left the shop. The little bell by the door tinkling as he did so.

He didn’t want Hayes to spot him hanging around, so he ducked into the nearest alleyway, still on the same side of the street as the café, waiting for Lawson to come out. He had to wait some time, checking his watch every so often, tapping his feet impatiently. When Lawson did make an appearance, what was he going to do about it? Strike up a conversation? Follow him home. Perhaps he hadn’t thought this through so well.

But he didn’t have time for a self-evaluation, as at that moment, the door of the bike shop opened and Lawson stepped out onto the pavement. This was it.

There was no opportunity to bump into him, start up a friendly interaction. Curt had no choice but to simply stray behind him, his head bent low, walking on the opposite side of the street. Lawson didn’t have his bike with him, so it was a little harder to stay out of sight. He wanted to at least find out where Lawson lived. Even if he didn’t yet make any sort of move, he could always return at a later date with a proper plan in mind, and perhaps even convince Owen to let him trail the guy.

The walk wasn’t too long. Lawson lived down a road lined with flats, his flat being in one of the first buildings coming into the street. Curt couldn’t do much else except note down the street name and the building number, but after a few minutes, when Lawson was safely inside, Curt walked up the front steps, hoping to find one of those signs, markers, whatever they were called, that had the surnames and flat number of each resident.

Indeed, the building did have said sign. But weirdly- suspiciously- Lawson wasn’t listed. Only by process of elimination could Curt work out that Lawson lived in flat 2B. It was the only flat not listed. Good piece of information, Mega. You’re doing well.

He could easily trail Hayes and Lawson without Owen finding out about the latter.

Curt smiled to himself. He’d solve this case, no doubt about it.

[openheartfanfics]

Newly Added Fics

Feb 14-20

🎭 Angst  |  🛸 AU  |  ☁ Fluff  |  ♥ NSFW  |  📚 Series  |  💘 Valentine’s

Aurora x F!MC

Certainty - @eleanorbloom ☁💘 Aurora finally had someone meaningful to spend Valentine’s Day with. 

Bryce x F!MC

Hiccup - @utterlyinevitable 🛸☁ Hannah’s sleeping over at the Lahela’s and finds herself in someone else’s room.

Some Definition - @argylemnwrites 🎭 Cassie is done being the “cool girl.” [DTR; Issues; Confession] 

Ethan x F!MC

Amber - @starrystarrytrouble ☁ Ethan tells MC how he feels about her after Harper joins the team. Set during the on-call diamond scene.  [3.1; Ethan’s POV; Hurt/Comfort; Protective; Jealous] 

Be Mine - @takeharryandgo ♥💘 Ethan hopes to escape his thoughts of her by avoiding Donahue’s on Valentine’s Day, but the universe has other plans.

Be My ‘Valentine’ - @caseyvalentineramsey  ☁ 💘 It’s 14th February, “Valentine’s” day. While spending time with the ‘Valentine’ in his life, 3 long unspoken words break-through. [In Love; Soulmates]

Bridge over Troubled Water - @stygianflood ☁ On the day of his mother’s return,  Ethan comes home to a surprise after a long day at the hospital. Feat. Jenner [2.13; Hurt/Comfort; Cooks] 

Everything else is just the weather - @anntoldst0ries ☁ Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. [Date] 

Last Night Alive - @rookie-ramsey 🛸🎭 What if Ethan was in that room? AU to chapters 10-11. [Someone Died; Traumatic; 2.11] 

Late Night - @jamespotterthefirst ☁ Harper is eager to share a new prospect with her old colleague. But when she visits Ethan’s apartment late at night to discuss, she is stunned by what-- or rather who-- she finds there. Feat. Harper Emery [3.1] 

Operation Heart-Fixer - @schnitzelbutterfingers 🎭💘 Valentine’s weekend (ft. Ethan’s dumb brain) [TW: alcohol and self-harm]  [Ethan POV] 

Personal Keepsake - @aworldoffandoms ☁ “You keep that photo of us in your wallet?”

Puncture Wound - @the-pale-goddess 🎭🌟 Ethan monitors Naveen overnight on New Year’s Eve. An unexpected guest keeps him company moments before the midnight strikes. Set After Miami. [1.10] 

Regret- @jooous 📚 [mini: completed] 

He did not know what was sadder: not being able to have her or her not wanting him.

pt. I  Confusion  |  pt. II Emotion  |  pt. III Reconciliation   

pt. IV Regret  |  Part V: The conclusion ♥

The Fourteenth - @terrm9  ☁💘 Chiara prefers to celebrate pi day over Valentine’s Day. 

Their forever - @genevievemd  ☁ Ethan had a terrible day, and MC surprises him with dinner [Cooks; Partnership]

Two Missives One Heart - @gryffindordaughterofathena 📚 [mini: completed]  Diana reads Ethan’s letter, will their hearts find what they seek? Will this be their road to happiness forevermore? set after the Edenbrook Hopeful Hearts Gala.

Evermore

We're Golden - @irisofpurple ☁ Ethan and Lana go on their first official date. [Date; 2.18]

With and Without - @alwaysmychoices 📚 [extended: wip] 

Chapter 23: Forgiveness

Harper Emery

Late Night - @jamespotterthefirst ☁ Harper is eager to share a new prospect with her old colleague. But when she visits Ethan’s apartment late at night to discuss, she is stunned by what-- or rather who-- she finds there. Feat. Ethan x F!MC [Platonic Harper; 3.1] 

Ines x Zaid

First Pet Shenanigans - @rookie-ramsey ☁ Gabriella gets a pet rabbit. Zaid is slightly terrified of it. [Family] 

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[sparklingdust4612]

"You are mine"

I really loved this cute oneshot. I was so happy to see that they found their way to each other without even knowing it and the effect they had on each other was amazing, those two really are perfect together. I loooove Teen Idol!Peeta and Teen fan!Katniss

AND THE MUFFIN REFERENCE WAS DAYYUM!

Faves:

1- “We’re all heading out to a club later. Wanna come?” Katniss met Johanna’s laughing stare with exasperation. “I didn’t think so. One day, you’re going to want someone to plow through that your garden, if you know what I mean. You’re never going to find a ‘gardener’ if you spent your nights at home!”

Katniss reached over to her desk and tossed her apron at the woman with a laugh.

“Back to work! And, anyway—whoever wants to get to this garden has to bring pruning shears and fertilizer.”

2- At 18, she became assistant manager when Lena got pregnant—thanks dad—and Lena and her dad got married.

3- “Maybe you can try asking again for my sake,” Lena urged, giving Katniss a quick wink. “Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while. I’m not really sure what’s going on with her…muffin.”

“Lena!” Katniss twirled around just in time to see Peeta covering his mouth so she wouldn’t see him laugh. “You are on thin ice, Peeta! Don’t you dare take her side.”

“I wouldn’t know much about your muffin…” Peeta’s eyes drifted downward toward her jeans. “…unless you’ll let me take both of you out for dinner.”

4- Finnick walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “We don’t shake hands. We tell embarrassing stories.” She could already tell Peeta was giving him the finger based on Finnick’s booming laugh. “Let me tell you about the time that Peeta had diarrhea during a camping trip—”

“No, she’s already slept with him. Bathroom issues aren’t a big deal,” Annie said as they led Katniss into their house. There were still a lot of unopened boxes from their move but the large entryway was enough for her to know that it might take some time for them to get their home decorated. “How about when he got bit by that spider and we had to take him to the hospital with an ice pack on his ass?”

“I don’t know if that’s going to deter me,” Katniss told the couple. “He’s unbelievably cute.” Peeta took her hand, pulling her to his side. “Also, he knows how to butter my muffin.”

Finnick snorted, shaking his head at the two. “You two are perfect for one another.”

5- “Where the hell are your panties?” Peeta asked as she easily sunk unto his length.

He groaned and she tightened around him as they began to move in harsh eagerness, the door being used as solid foundation for a hard fuck.

“In my pocket,” she replied breathlessly, her eyes rolling back as he thrusted harshly, hitting her cervix just enough. “That way if you’re too loud, I can just stuff them into your mouth.”

6- Downstairs, Marvel and Johanna looked up at the dark-tinted windows of the office.

“Yes, Peeta! Fuck! I’m coming!”

Prim joined them, emerging from the back employee entrance as her eyes went up to the office windows as well.

“Do they know that the overhead speaker is on?” she asked, trying to keep her laughter in.

A loud moan punctured the air—Peeta.

Johanna shook her head. “Nope.” She took off her apron. “I’m clocking out early.”

7- Johanna was, not surprisingly, sitting on Cato’s lap. They had met when Katniss moved into Peeta’s apartment and spent two days in Johanna’s apartment, ‘purging’ her presence.

That’s what Johanna called it when she called in sick, anyway.

@jlalafics You said that "You are mine" is an original song written by you, did you or anyone ever sing it? I would love to hear it if you/someone did :D

[ruthoakenshield]

Very Good Friends (Chapter 11)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]  [Chapter 9]  [Chapter 10]

Reader x Henry Cavill, Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!!   Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe   bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression,   humiliation, and some fluff to make us feel better. Smut comes later on   in the story… Several chapters down the road… I promise!!!

If  ANY  of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read  below  the cut! go find something else to read in this case.

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback  and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any   personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the   Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested.   GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

**********

Once you both are done eating, Henry rinses the dishes, loads them into the dishwasher and carries you to the bathroom so you both can brush your teeth, then he helps you get dressed. Once you both finish getting ready, he carries you to the sofa, puts your socks and rain boots on you and helps you into a jacket.

Henry dons his boots and jacket, grabs the travel mug with your hot tea and hands it to you. He grabs his keys and has you hold them, then picks you up and carries you to the door. He flips the lock on the door and opens it. Henry steps out onto the stairs holding you carefully in one of his strong arms as if you weighed nothing. It’s still raining, and he quickly closes the door and the two of you head to the car. “Hit the unlock button, Kitten.” He tells you as he jogs to the car, with you in his arms. You press it and the lights on his BMW flash indicating it unlocked. He opens the door and gently puts you on the seat. You hiss and wince as your rear touches the seat.

He grimaces and apologizes. Quickly he shuts the door and heads to the driver’s side. He gets in and starts the car after you hand him the keys. Backing out, he flips on the heater and then puts the car in drive and heads back to the hospital with you. Once you arrive, he tells the nurse that he called and talked to the Doc you saw yesterday, and he said for her to let him know immediately when you both arrived. She nods and shows you both back to a room, takes your vitals, then hands you a gown and blanket having you change into them while you wait for the Doctor.

Henry helps you out of your clothes and into the gown and then sets you gently onto the table. You lie back and groan as the pressure lessens on your low belly. Henry moves to the side of the exam table and takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss. “He’ll be here soon, Kitten.” He tells you reassuringly.

The Doctor arrives and talks with you for a few moments, asking you a few questions, then does a pelvic exam. You cry out as he presses around, and he frowns. “I’m gonna have an ultrasound and CT scan done. It shouldn’t be hurting this much and be giving you this much trouble.” He tells you both.

Henry looks concerned and the Doctor tells you he’ll be right back. Henry is holding your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze and a kiss once the Doctor leaves. “It’ll be okay, Kitten. He’ll figure out what’s goin’ on.” He tries to assure you.

The Doctor and the Ultrasound technician enter the room with the machine. They explain what they are going to do, and the technician’s eyes open wide in surprise when he sees how bruised

you are on your torso and lower abdomen. He squirts the gel onto you, and you hiss as it’s cold. He apologizes and then turns on the machine. When he starts to move the wand around and the images of your bladder and your uterus appear on the screen, both he and the doctor frown when they see how inflamed your urethra and bladder are.

They can also see your IUD has been dislodged and the Doctor’s eyes get huge. He looks at the technician and they both nod.

“Okay, Honey, we’re gonna run two more tests then we’ll decide what to do. I think we found one reason why you’re in so much pain in your abdomen. But I want to make sure that there isn’t a second, underlying cause. Okay?” he tells you. You nod.

He explains how they’ll do the other two tests, and you are whimpering. Henry is trying to keep you calm but you’re afraid. He looks at the Doc with pleading eyes. “Sweetheart, would you feel better if we had you sleep for these other two procedures if I let your friend here stay right with you. You nod. “Okay. We’ll do that then.” He says. “We’re just gonna step outside the door and show him where to get a gown and to scrub up, okay?” he tells you. You nod.

They step out of the room with Henry and then the Doc takes him over by the nurse’s station a few feet away. “Henry, her pain is being caused by two things. One, is the IntraUterine Device, the IUD, that she had for birth control. It has been dislodged probably from the force of the repeated raping, it’s not positioned correctly in her uterus and could easily become embedded in the walls of the uterus or even puncture them. She will need immediate surgery for that.

The other reason she is having the pain is because the urethra is extremely swollen and irritated also from the rape. She most likely has a bladder infection especially if he raped her in both holes without switching condoms between them; or didn’t use a condom, raped her in the ass and then went right into her vagina without cleaning himself off. It’s very dangerous to do and often causes Urinary Tract and vaginal infections because the bacteria from the intestines gets into the vagina and urethra and can work their way into the bladder. If it’s not caught and treated right away it can damage the kidneys if it gets that far up into the Urinary tract.” He explains.

Henry visibly cringes and fear crosses his face. He quickly screws his face into a neutral expression and nods.

“I want the CT scan and the Cystoscopy done so we have a clear image of what we’re dealing with. The CT scan can be claustrophobic for some people, and with her suffering from the rape still, I think it’s best we put her under for the two tests, then we can take her right into surgery to remove the IUD.” The Doctor explains.

Henry frowns. “Do what you have to Doc. We’re supposed to be at a meeting at 2pm, I suppose we won’t be able to make it.” Henry explains with a frustrated sigh and rubs his face feeling his anxiety begin to surface.

“If everything goes well, you might be able to make it to the meeting with her, Henry. She will just be very groggy and might not remember much from it. If you’re not comfortable being with her during the procedures, it’s okay. Normally we don’t allow this, but I am willing to allow it if you are comfortable being in there. You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to. We can have you face away and just hold her hand and face towards her head.” The Doctor tells Henry.

He thinks for a moment and then nods. “Okay, Doc. I’ll do whatever you think is best to keep her calm, safe and comfortable.” He agrees.

The Doctor nods. “I’ll have David here explain what they’ll do for the CT scan and where you’ll be standing. When he’s done explaining things, come back into the room.” He tells Henry. “I’ll get her ready for the CT scan and the Cystoscopy.” Knock on the door when you’re ready to come in.” He tells Henry.

More chapters to come…

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[reynesofcastamere]

Surface Breach(2/3)[β]

(A/N: Good grief but it has been a while since my last contribution to the ship. Sad to say I’ve been caught up with several irl things, including moving and settling in to the new place. Rest assured, I do have several drafts in the works for other projects and I am hoping to set up a regular writing/submission schedule. Now that that’s out of the way...Warnings for: possessive behaviour, emotional manipulation, (negotiated) bondage, blindfolding, edging, cockwarming, blood, masochism and mentions of polyamory, coitus interruptus, and non-consensual play.  Unbeta’d and NSFW.)

Ahsoka knows the second she sets foot on her ship that time is up. She could still flee, drag this game out a bit longer and drive up the level of his frustration...But what would be the point, really? It’s been months since they parted ways, and while she hasn’t avoided his calls, she’s also made a point of not meeting with him in person. A reprimand for his behaviour, and a reminder of the challenge she’d issued.  She recalls the first, trembling breath of relief she’d taken after the medical scans were complete. He has no further hold over her than this. Nothing burrowed and secreted away beneath her skin to...Do any number of things, really. Most of which she’d rather not consider right now.

Maul is of course perfectly at ease in the pilot’s seat, already turned to face her. “Lady Tano. I trust that your last assignment was successful.” He’s being neutral, bordering on pleasant, even. But the tension is there, kept in check by the slimmest thread of restraint. “And I trust that you’re not here for small talk.” Ahsoka makes certain to keep a few feet of distance between them, arms crossed. The corner of his mouth twitches, the speed of it leaving her unsure of whether he meant to smirk or grimace. “You have business on Nar Shadaa, and I have certain...interests that need tending there.” “So you decided to catch a ride. Without asking.”  “You would have refused even if I had offered compensation. This is the most expedient method of travel.” Maul’s eyes narrow, attempting to pierce through and determine her intent. “Unless you plan to run in order to spite me.” “I’m not running anywhere.” Ahsoka retorts. “But I’m also not going to spend three whole days in hyperspace...entertaining you.” “Naturally. However, when we are not occupied with tasks and other essentials, you will make good on your promise, my Lady. Now please, sit.”  She takes up residence in the navigator’s seat, given that he’s obviously not willing to move. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What does it matter, if you are not truly mine? Just a monster’s delusion. Unless...”

“Don’t. Start. You can use either of my names. Just not...that.” “As you wish.”

Nothing else is said for some time. Even after the ship takes off, the course is set in, and space has blurred into blue lines, there are other responsibilities that need to be taken care of. Ahsoka has to stop herself from dragging out the time. She’s not looking forward to this. The discussion she needs to have with him, not what might happen afterward.

“Look, if this is going to continue, there need to be some ground rules.”

 “Explain.”

“First off: Unless I’m badly injured or in immediate danger, you’re not allowed to just...carry me back to your lair, no matter what your reasons are.” He’s more than capable of coming up with a multitude of excuses to do so. Which is why she’s cutting him off at the knees, figuratively speaking.  “Second: This arrangement doesn’t interfere with work. Ever. Third: I decide when anything starts. You’re not allowed to grab or molest me in any way before that.” 

Maul appears mildly amused, but the small tics that betray his impatience are growing. “This seems rather excessive for a casual arrangement.”

 Ahsoka pins him in place with a look and a hint of a Force hold. “I’m not finished. Fourth: Any marks left behind have to be concealable.” She’d walk away from this ‘business trip’ with more visible punctures in her than being dropped into a giant cacti forest on Yavin 13 otherwise.  “Fifth: No matter how far along we are, if I say ‘kyber’, we stop what we’re doing. No questions, no persuasion, nothing. If you don’t have a safeword, then pick one and tell me.”

“Is ‘stop’ somehow inadequate?” The question is soft as she releases her unseen grasp on him. Even seated, something in him reminds her of a hunter in the moment before a kill; tense with anticipation and bloodthirst.   “No.” She wets her lower lip. There’s no going back from this confession, hard as it had been for her to admit it to herself. Much less him.  “When I use ‘stop’, it usually means ‘go harder’.”

Maul’s grip is practically throttling the armrest at this point. He is trying, from the shudder in his breath, to follow the rules she’s set out so far. That’s a good sign. His eyes, though? There’s a flicker in them that she used to see from the people she’d helped or rescued during the war. The ones who fully believed that the Jedi were capable of miracles and could do no wrong. A kind of...awe. Achingly soft, and in his case, almost buried beneath avarice and raw desire. She fights the urge to squirm, and it’s not entirely from discomfort. “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Good, ‘scimitar’ should suffice. I have some conditions of my own.” Every word is a caress, heavy and deliberate. “You are, of course, free to object.” He produces the blindfold she’d given him from within his shirt. She remembers exactly how he’d taken her apart; bound by choice and utterly enthralled. “So long as you wear this, you will obey.” Maul purrs, heat suffusing her body as he winds and pulls the fabric taut between his fingers. “I’m not going to call you ‘Master’.” Ahsoka is certain he’d like almost nothing more. She gets far too much pleasure out of denying him, however. So he’ll have to earn it first.

“Yet.” Maul responds, overconfident ass that he is. “I have no desire for you to dull your tongue. But you will submit to my commands.” He leans in, nearly closing the gap between them, but not quite. “Such as if I tell you to get down on your knees and show me how you pleasure yourself.” He’s only saying it to provide an example, yet her thighs rub together all the same at the thought. Sightless, her cunt exposed and dripping while he watches, giving obscene praise and instructions on how to bring herself to orgasm.

“Should you want to take control, all you need do is remove it. Or ask that it be taken off.” Of course he’s not done yet. Has to finish having his say first, and bring her arousal to a fever-pitch with the only options currently allowed. “Any amount of marks you receive from other paramours, I will match in number, and I will take first priority.” There is a jealous glint, a madness in his eyes that should terrify her. “Regardless of your position and how close your mutual release is.”  Ahsoka sucks in a sharp breath. “You really expect me to just...make someone leave while they’re-”  “Yes.” Maul snarls, hushed and vicious in a way that brooks no refusal. Much as she might like to, if she does not compromise, give some inch of ground...He will lash out. Ultimately, he’s not asking for much. So far. “And should you draw a weapon on me again-” His left hand circles her jaw without actually making contact, though the intent is clear. “-be prepared to use it.” Her gaze falls to his throat, his markings almost concealing the burn scar she’d given him. But not quite. That he’d chosen to keep it at all is- “Do we have an agreement, Ahsoka Tano?”

 A small eternity seems to pass between her indrawn breath and the resulting answer. “Yes.” Ahsoka looks at him again without fear. Straight into the eyes of the monster, the murderer, the tyrant she has and will be taking into her bed for the forseeable future. “Go ahead.” The first kiss is nothing short of a conquest, taken with broken vocalizations and sharp bites. She lets him pull her in, straddling his lap in the pilot’s seat while they break for air, and offering no resistance when he ties the blindfold securely in place. “Undress. Completely.” Softer now, his lips ghosting along her jawline. It takes a bit of effort, but before long she is bared to him, nipples pebbled from arousal, the air, and the cold presence of the Dark Side. The body beneath her, the bare hands that trace and mould her form are nearly white-hot by comparison. “Perfect...Turn around, and place your hands behind my neck.” Ahsoka obeys, shuddering in pleasure as he purrs. The cuffs he attaches to her wrists are made of some kind of leather, and she instinctively tests the give of the metal chain between them. Sturdy, but nothing she can’t break out of.

The position leaves her undeniably exposed and at his mercy. She expects none, yet he grants it anyway. With each stroke, squeeze, and tug of his fingers down her body, he steadily tunes her nerves to exquisite sensitivity. He never quite touches her core, preferring to caress and grip her inner thighs and the curve of her breasts even as she pants and shifts restlessly. She can feel him against her, hard and unyielding, the cloth barrier separating them gradually being saturated with her essence. And still he makes no effort to hurry things along. “I thought you wanted to -haaaaahhhh- punish me for making you wait this long.”  “You made a game of testing my patience. It is only fitting that I return the favour. I will keep you here, on the precipice between agony and bliss...Until, in your desperation, you beg me to ‘stop’.” Maul pinches her throbbing bud and she whines an incoherent stream of vowels. “Although...Hm. Your impulsive side is endearing.”

“What are you rambling on ab-AnnnnnH!” He bites down on her shoulder while slightly twisting the bundle of nerves held captive between his digits. She’s bleeding and the pain between her legs is pure torture, but she still wants-

‘I will grant your release early. If you ask to be fucked.” “You can’t be serious.” “Three simple words are all that stand in your way.”

“Why not just order me to say it?”

“Why should I, when you so clearly want to? Despite your self-denial.”  There’s no longer anything gentle about his touch, how his nails dig in and rake across her inner thighs while her shoulders and upper back gain a rapidly-growing collection of teeth-marks. His shaft is still there, still covered and rigid, rubbing against her hot and sodden core. Ahsoka is on the verge of sobbing. Or breaking her restraints to just seize what he’s dangling in front of her. But if all it takes is a couple of words...”Please, fuck me.” She whispers, rough from repressing her whimpers.

“Again.” His lips on her throat, feeling the command rumbling against her vocal cords.

She grits her teeth and snarls. “Fuck. Me. Please. You smug, overbearing bastard.” Maul’s fingers curve over and tug her recently-abused pearl, and she is lost, sent tumbling and screaming into the abyss.

Her body is still quivering in the aftermath when he presses in. A slow invasion, one that encounters no resistance until he is fully secured within her walls. At first, she thinks he just wants her to ride him. Yet before she can start... “I will give you a choice.” Maul’s voice is low enough to feel in her bones. “If you can keep relatively still for fifteen minutes, you will be taken against the control panel. And if you are very good, Ahsoka-” Her name on his lips is electric and scandalous, her body arching as if pulled by unseen strings. “-I will get down on my knees and devour you first.” She should never have given him permission to use it in the first place. His other...’endearments’ are easy to brush off. Somehow, hearing those three syllables in this moment is more intimate than having him inside her, feeling the incremental shifts between their bodies with each breath. 

Ahsoka raises herself up, almost to the point of letting his shaft slip out, then drops back down. She can feel him hiss, how his hips jolt up on instinct once before he stops himself. “Mmmm. Think your other option is bad enough to stop me from putting this to better use?” She’s teasing now, circling and rolling her hips in a way that takes him deep, but not all the way in again. Having Maul relatively immobile is a new experience. Even when he’s not being rough, he’s hardly still. It probably won’t last, but so long as his patience holds out...Using him like a sex toy is doing a lot to rev her up right now. He seizes her head-tail and pulls, bending Ahsoka’s neck back at an uncomfortable angle, free hand grasping one of her thighs to force a stop to her movements. “Keep this up and I assure you, ja’ti mirtis{my death}, you will not enjoy sitting when I am done with you.” Maul rasps, his mouth so close to her left montral that she can feel his lips brushing against it with every word. Her core trembles, breath coming in short, sharp pants. “I wonder which would bring you more pleasure? Being bent over the edge of your cot to be mounted and used...Or disciplined until that option becomes a mercy?”  Something like insanity seizes her. It’s the only explanation for what she says next. “Both.” Ahsoka breathes. “I want-Take these off, please.” The light is harsh for the few seconds it takes her eyes to adjust, wrists slightly chafed from the cuffs as she carefully turns to face him. “I need both.” Her hands gently circle his face. “Can you do that? Get me ready with your mouth, and take me nice and slow right here?” He seems transfixed, almost unable to believe the words falling from her lips. “Think of how wet I’ll be, when you’ve finished your ‘discipline’ and I’m just aching to be ruined.” Ahsoka can taste the hunger when he captures her mouth, how similar it is to her own. Her nails claw at his shoulderblades, seeking purchase, to bury herself in him, anything. “Yes, Ahsoka.” Maul whispers, between their lips meeting in repeated, feverish collisions. “You have only to ask.” (A/N: Some of you may have noticed a slight change in the numbers up top. So yes, there will be one more chapter to this particular story. 8D Cheers, everyone!)

[guyawks]

The Secret Ingredient in Ruby Chocolate Is...

...something you’ll wish you had never learned about.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past 3 years, I’m sure at some point you heard about Cadbury’s groundbreaking new chocolate discovery. In 2017, most people assumed it was just some kind of gimmick. After all, we’d all seen artificially-coloured confectionery before—chocolate, sweets, liquorice and so on. That’s what everyone first reasoned “ruby chocolate” was. Just rosewater or strawberry-flavoured choc with a fancy corporate spin on it.

Yet, the promotional material from Cadbury claimed the opposite.

They assured the world that this revolutionary new “ruby chocolate” would actually be equivalent to milk, white and dark chocolate in status. The fourth official type of chocolate was supposedly harvested from a rare, previously undiscovered, reddish cocoa bean in some far-off South American jungle. It was reported to have an almost fruity taste, being both sweet and slightly acidic on the tongue—the first new chocolate in almost a century.

That all might sound a little odd to you. How could Cadbury just now be discovering a new flavour of chocolate, when chocolatiers have been scouring the land for cocoa beans for centuries? What changed in the 21st century to reveal such a delicious confectionary gem? I was that skeptical too. I wish I hadn’t been, had just covered my ears up and eaten the damn chocolate like everybody else. But I was a dumb food blogger—and a nosy one at that.

Mining the company’s website won’t yield any new information, nor will asking chocolate stores. No, you probably have no clue what the real truth is behind ruby chocolate’s signature magenta tinge.

You should be grateful. After all, you have the luxury of not dreading the reality inside every block of that pink nightmare. Ignorance is bliss, so they say. You could easily just keep your head down—in a box of ruby chocolate—and stay out of harm's way. But, if you truly are curious to your sweet-tooth breaking point, there is a way for you to discover the secret ingredient in what Cadbury is calling “ruby chocolate”.

Get invited on a PR tour. You’ll need to have a large social media following with at least 10k followers. If you don’t already have a pool like that, then get cracking on building one. It will also be important for you to heavily feature as many ruby chocolate items as you can find, or just tag it in all of your posts. This’ll attract Cadbury’s attention and make you a prime candidate for one of those promotional trips. Cadbury runs these every few months at their production plant in Shanghai, to drum up hype for ruby chocolate as it’s slowly released worldwide.

They’ll send you an email expressing admiration for your social following, and propose an all-expenses trip to sample their chocolate and get a behind-the-scenes look at things. Accept this offer, and you’re already halfway to knowing the mystery ingredient in your favourite pink sweet.

Along with a group of several other influencers, you’ll be flown over to glamorous Shanghai. The hotel room you're staying at will be stocked to the brim with different ruby chocolate items for you to try, photograph and review—favourably, of course. There’ll be ruby KitKats, ruby M&Ms, ruby-coated nuts and good ‘ole traditional ruby chocolate blocks. I’m sure you’ll also find some more fascinating ruby inventions that haven’t hit stores yet, like ruby hot chocolate, ruby mochi, and even ruby cereals.

The point is that you’ll be pretty damn buttered up to the thought of ruby chocolate after your first night, if you weren’t already. Come the time of your tour, you’ll be led to one of the local production plants manufacturing the confectionery in question. Your tour guide will show you around a bunch of generic storage and assembly-line rooms while you happily Instagram pictures. Cute little pink bean pods being scraped down and churned into cocoa powder, etcetera.

This will, of course, all be a front. To get to the meat of the production plant—and the real secret of ruby chocolate—you’ll have to break away from your tour group. Feigning an excuse will just get you stuck with a personal escort, so your best bet would be to slip away, unannounced, while the group’s attention is elsewhere. Keep a relatively low-profile during the trip and this should be easy. Don’t bring any influencer pals with you—unless you want their suffering on your head.

Once you’ve made it into one of the production plant’s many darkened corridors, listen for the sounds of drumming mechanical devices and the faint smell of metal. This is what you’ll want to follow. Taking care not to run into any passing workers in the hallways, creep towards the sounds and smells until you reach the main production room. If you’re ready to finally uncover the sweetmeat horror, peer through the wide metal doors.

The secret ingredient in ruby chocolate will be...

...live human hosts.

Horrified, you’ll see ordinary cocoa beans being cocooned within the blood vessels of hundreds of trafficked humans—immobilized by restraints and the bloated, parasitically-infested confines of their own bodies. I told you the secret would be bad, didn’t I? Ruby beans are just cocoa beans stained blood-pink. This is the part where you’re expecting me to tell you how to escape the factory and reveal to your doting followers the truth.

You won’t. Not unscathed, anyway.

Oh, you’ll almost certainly be caught. The factory is patrolled from all angles outside, and surveillance is 24/7. Didn’t you expect those doors to be locked? Indeed, Cadbury let you get this far because they don’t care if you unmask the secret ingredient as blood vessels. It’s only a preview of what will be happening to you shortly.

Throughout the implantation procedure, it’s best to remain very still, despite the immense pain of needles piercing your body dozens of times. One wrong move and they could puncture a vital organ, which would be far, far worse. After the cocoa beans have been implanted into your blood vessels, you’ll likely be relocated back to your hotel room. This will be your chance to escape, although most are in too much pain from the plump, parasitic beans in their flesh to do much escaping.

If you are fortunate enough to make it out—warts and all—and back to your home country, I wouldn’t go rushing to any doctors to get those beans removed. Cadbury’s reach is global, and they’ll go to any lengths to recoup their investment that’s stored in your body. Besides, I heard that the beans are so interwoven into your blood vessels that removing them would be impossible without killing you. So, guess you’ll be stuck with them, too. But at least you’ll be alive, for as long as you stay in hiding.

Dropping off the radar is how I’ve lasted this long. The welts throughout my engorged, exhausted body are painful, and make it hard to type this message, but it’s worth it to get the truth out there.

So, that’s the harrowing secret behind the phenomenon that is ruby chocolate.

By now, you’re probably wondering why I gave you all those instructions on breaking into the factory, all to reveal the truth about ruby chocolate to you anyway. Well, what food influencer worth their sugar would just take my word for it? None of your followers would believe you without photographic proof—and the only way you’ll get that is by going into the belly of the Cadbury yourselves.

There’s only one method for you to be sure that I’m not telling you a fib, and that’s for you to follow all of the steps I’ve just written, and verify my story yourself.

The proof is in the pudding. Better yet, in this case, the proof is in the chocolate.