#if i write the story in full

[ghostedbunnie]

mmm my brain is buzzing with an idea of knight! ghost stumbling upon a carriage getting robbed late at night. appearing like a monster that mothers warn their kids about when they misbehave, mask covering his face and after the bloodbath finishes and no one is left standing but him, he let's out a sigh before making his way to the carriage, one of the window is broken but the heavy curtains are drawn.

when he opens the door he doesn't expect to have the curtains thrown in his face and an absolutely feral maid trying to cut him with the shard of the window held so tight in her shaky hand that the other side cuts deep into her palm. something clicks in place for ghost in that moment, this little cornered thing protecting her mistress with ferocity of a tiger but with fear oozing out of her every pore.

with something that resembles a snort he knocks the shard out of her hand and pulls her out by the scruff as if she truly is just a little kitten showing her claws and he is finding it extremely amusing. the mistress is less of a fighter, he finds, it took one look at him all bloody and dark a picture straight out of nightmares and she passed out on the spot.

with the maid fighting him every step of the way he manages to bring them to his master, his king. turns out the mistress is a princess that was travelling to marry the king and for saving her life, he deserves a gift. anything of his choosing. anyone.

the maid could feel a cold sweat drip down her back when for the first time since they travelled together she heard his voice (she believed his vocabulary was made up of grunts and growls) when he pulled her in with his heavy gloved paw on the back of her neck, "I'll take 'er."

edit: full fic here

[arhvste]

“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”

kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”

this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.

“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”

how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.

what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?

these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.

“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”

kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”

“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.

it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?

“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”

pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.

the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.

kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?

psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.

bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.

clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.

‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’

“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”

[writing-jellyfish]

Adding to this post

Poly!141, short dabble, 18+ mdni

Warnings: Tied up, sub!fem!reader, fingers in v (lmk if anything else needs to be added)

It's well known to the three other men that you're Ghost's pet. Look but don't touch. That is until one night when Ghost had a hip injury and was recovering, he couldn't give you the pleasure you needed so of course he had to treat his girl to something good.

He had you all dressed up for the company that would be arriving soon, wearing black baby doll lingerie with your wrists already tied behind your back with ribbon and a collar around your neck. It was a present to his teammates, a one-time chance to ravish you like the wolves they are.

As the door unlocked and footsteps filled the flat, the bedroom door creaked open and the hallway light flooded into the dimly lit bedroom where you sat on the middle of the bed and Ghost sat in a nearby chair from the dining room.

The men worked agonizingly slow, hardly undressing you. Soap's hands held your hips as he sucked on your nipples through the lace of your lingerie as Price's tongue worked between your legs. Gaz kept his mouth occupied on your neck and lips under Ghost's order to not leave any marks. You were his of course and the men would respect that.

Ghost sat in the corner of the room, tugging on himself as his head rolled back. He wasn't going to allow his men to put themselves in you, no, not yet at least. He wasn't ready to give you to them fully but watching the way you choked on your gasps as Price pushed in two of his fingers as if you've never taken a big cock before had his head spinning and wanting to see the way your face would scrunch up in pleasure as your eyes gloss over with tears after being pounded into by three men.

If you're good enough, maybe you could have all of them at once.

[controlledchaos1342-blog]

“Let’s have a battle!” Naive, vicious child. This is why I wear my mask these days. Before it was to hide, now it’s to make it all too clear ‘who’ I am to these people. I can see in their eyes that they don’t intend it to be a playful match like the small school-children getting a first taste of this life. They see me and my ‘disabled’ partner as easy prey.

I look to Missy and tilt my head, no need to say the question out loud. She simply nods and gives a responding “Kacha,” before jumping out to fight what ever opponent we were to face. If the brat was smart they’d send out a ground type like Sandslash or Graveler. It wouldn’t help them really, especially since this is a loose fight without stated rules so even if Missy couldn’t handle it Saoirce or Flicker could pick up the slack.

They aren’t smart, but they aren’t stupid enough to send a flying or water type in their cockyness. The opponent is a Ninetales. Arguably local to the area and no indication of its current power due to the fact it evolves with a stone rather then experience or even an attack.

“Natsume, Flamethrower!” The intention is clear, they want to surprise me with an instant death. I say nothing but instead shake my wrist. The bracelet jangles just audibly enough for Missy to know her own judgment is preferred, whatever that may be in this moment.

As the flames spew out of the large fox’s mouth straight at Missy, I still can’t tell the difference between “that’s a lot of hot air” and “Fourth degree burn incoming” so I can’t tell if having her jump out of the way will be required or a waste of energy. She, as a Pokemon from the wilds, has a better grasp on the flow of the magic needed for these attacks.

I can’t see what her choice is in the moment of truth, but when the flames go away, the stream cut off to avoid hitting me as I stood barely four feet behind her, I don’t see her. Merely a hole where she stood. The brat seems surprised but is quick to take on a prideful look. “Don’t touch the tails.” It took, quite honestly, far too long to be able to project my voice so easily across such a clearing. But such a skill is needed when you have no clue where your Pokemon is in a battle, when the fights are life or death and the attacks are roaring like storms and wildfires.

The brat is surprised once more and seems uneasy. ‘Word to the wise: Dig is a very useful TM for electric types.’ Missy finally pops out, across the field and right in place to grab the foreleg of the Ninetales. It yelps  and the brat asks what happened only for it to rear back, yanking Missy out of the ground and preventing her from dragging it into the hole to snap its leg or at least twist its ankle.

“Natsume, flamethrower now!” I’ll give the kid one thing, they have good reaction time for these developments. If they weren’t so vicious I’d want to give them some proper advice on how to survive and protect their team. As it stands I can’t bring myself to care, or rather can’t allow myself to care. Regardless, Missy’s left cheek pouch goes from an occasionally sparking live-wire effect to producing bolts arching well past the length of the fox’s tails.

‘Natsume’ doesn’t even get the barest licks of fire out past their muzzle before Missy had unleashed enough electricity to likely rival an electric chair. The fox falls, the rodent brushes herself off, the brat drops to their knees, and I approach.

For so long I had dreamed of being in this world, knowing full well that a cartoon and game series directed at children would sugar coat it. I knew there would be horrors and turmoil, especially in this particular iteration of such a world. It doesn’t stop me from hating these kinds of fights, it doesn’t stop me from looking at the Ninetales, something that was always shown to be majestic but laid before me seemed ragged and feral, and making sure to check if it was alive.

It’s been made clear to me, a Pokemon that fights for another, whether to protect the weak under its care or as a soldier under its leaders guidance, that they would rather fight to the end of that battle than be given paltry mercy. But there is a catch, when the battle doesn’t need to end in death then they can loose without dying or being disgraced. Is it disgrace even? At least, is it by the standards that most humans and even I myself understand it?

“Oi,” I speak up to grab the kid’s attention, “Natsume isn’t dead. Either continue the fight or forfeit and run to town for treatment, ya got that?” The brat of course looks up with hatred. Shaking, crying, do they even understand that they caused this themselves? That they intended to do unto me what they thought I had done unto them? “You wanted a fight. You had Natsume use as much power as she could to attack Missy. You did not, in any way, imply that it was a spar.”

Spars are odd things in this world. It’s generally agreed that when fighting with preschoolers and other such young ‘trainer’s that it is a spar. Spars aren’t allowed in official competitions unless the competition is built around them, such as contests and battle tents that let you rent a Pokemon. In true fights you’re expected to either fight to the death or be able to act fast enough to save your own Pokemon’s life. Spars you’re expected to hold back enough to not kill, though accidents can always happen, and you can ask for a break to use items or swap out a Pokemon safely.

The kid slumps, seeming to understand that they had no right to feel attacked when they had challenged, when if the roles were reversed they’d have made sure their own Pokemon knew not to show the slightest bit of mercy.

“I… How much do I owe you?” A cultural part of this whole world that I still struggle with. Typically people will just give you half of their current savings as compensation, compensation for challenging someone who was ‘better’ or compensation for not being a good enough challenge. Sometimes it’s treated more like prize money, sometimes people treat it like a bet and set the money aside ahead of time. It’s thankfully not uncommon for someone to refuse but it is sadly seen as extremely disgraceful, at least in this country, to accept the money if you had lost outside of preestablished conditions.

It’s also not unheard of, though exceedingly rare and universally considered a ‘dick move’ to instead be paid in conditions or requirements. It’s one thing to have them established before hand, it’s another to make demands when the person is arguably defenseless and heartbroken. I haven’t cared for societal rules in so long.

“Look after your Pokemon with reasonable care, as in make sure they can live a content life,” already the kid is flinching at my demands, likely less what I’m asking of them and more that it’s not going to be a simple matter of maybe not eating for a week, “never demand a battle, but instead request and back off if someone is opposed to the idea,” the second command is arguably good practice for if the kid manages to stay at this well into adulthood, as once you reach a certain proficiency and or age you’re expected to ease off a bit, to not just slaughter the next generation, “and spar with me next week. We can hash out the exacts and it doesn’t have to be exactly seven days from now.”

The kid nods, recalls Natsume, and runs back to the nearest town. Or maybe they’re running to the next town on their travels? I honestly didn’t notice where they came from before they challenged me. Regardless, Missy climbs up to my shoulder, damaged cheek facing out to the world so it can spark out safely. The sparks don’t stop me from gently rubbing her cheek, by this point in our travels the tingles of electricity running down my arm feels comforting.

“So, do you think you’d rather deal with it or do ya want to shunt it off to Saoirce? Yes-you, No-Saoirce,” I mumble as I start heading off to our current ‘campsite’, a small nook where I dropped my stuff while we scavenged for food in hopes of avoiding a store-run.

“Chu.” A no, fair enough. I can’t tell if Missy just doesn’t want to deal with being burned, which fair enough, if she simply thinks Saoirce would find the spar fun, which also is fair, or if Missy is hoping the brat will realize who they challenged. If she’s hoping to see the dawning horror the kid will feel when, if they realize they challenged ‘Z-Sama’ and attempted to kill my starter.

There’s always a chance the kid would never realize. After all Pikachu do naturally occur in some areas in this country, it’s not impossible to get an Eevee to evolve into any of its variants, especially if your foolish enough to lie and order a pet-grade Eevee rather then a combat-grade one. Even if the kid sees Flicker, Charmander are one of the Pokemon in the Starter’s Initiative Breeding Program so it just means having connections or filling out a bunch of paper work.

Even my mask, one modeled after the Hisuian Zoroark and my ‘namesake’, paired with the exact injuries on my team wouldn’t be concrete proof. The masks have gotten more popular when people saw me challenge and hold my own in the league so quickly. The injuries are fairly common either as accidents in combat or shameful intentions so it’s not impossible for someone to either randomly end up with team members that match mine or, in the cases of people I’d want to personally gut and skin alive, purposefully injure, arguably cripple multiple Pokemon just to copy.

The idea of purposeful copycats is even more infuriating when one remembers that there’s a random chance that damaging a Pikachu’s cheek-pouch will leave it incapable of using electrical attacks of any kind ever again. That there is never a way to know how such an injury will play out, that there is no way to guarantee the true problem will be fixed with a transplant, that the sparks and static is less important for combat and more an integral part of their culture and communication.

[tomfrogisblue]

i forgot to post this during june but i think one of the reasons qsmp was so important was how unapologetically Gay it was

for starters, the number of creators and admins involved who are irl queer of some variation, just chilling in a place where any kind of phobia would get Philza's legendary ban hammer faster than you could say "rainbow jelly"

and then the characters.

i remember showing up that first day and being shocked that somehow foolish had an ex-boyfriend already (I had missed the squidcraft lore apparently)

that server. gay. all the gay. all kinds of gay.

govermentally assigned platonic husbands that stayed together the whole time (despite one of them being gone for months at a time), not a chance in hell of infidelity. Proud fathers of two wonderful children.

governmentally assigned partners who yelled full volume at each other about cheating any time they were in the room together and between the two of them killed two children.

a grieving father and ex-convict becoming one of the most solid couples in the server, with a beautiful wedding and consistent public displays of affection via the in-game chat.

a demon ashamed of who she was and a lonely detective struggling with family trauma, now with a lil girl of their own, to love together and take care of, with more moms than could ever allow the little girl to ever be lonely herself.

a 2b2t warrior coming to terms with his sexuality with the support of his beautiful baby boy at his side, slowly but surely opening up to his eventual Brazilian Boyfriend. Where they went from the most cautious couple (baby steps) to the most sickeningly sweet couple on the server.

- and this list doesn't even scratch the surface.

gay characters, trans characters, ace characters, aroace characters, gender fluid characters, all kinds of relationships and families.

all presented without negativity or shame.

the point of the server was to exchange languages and cultures, without the biases and barriers seen so much in both the content creator scene and the wider world.

it also had a beautiful little side effect, practically by accident.

our lgbtqsmp.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Camp

The Batfam force Damian to go to summer camp to socialize with kids his own age and have some normal childhood experiences

That’s all well and good, but normal does not describe his cabin’s councilor, one Daniel ���for the love of Ancients call me Danny” Fenton

Between the son of the bat and a Fenton, camp is going to be weird

[lomlompurim]

respost separated from the og post bc I really liked this silly little thing I made

And a little extra of my own

little binghe has a goal in this life and it only gets worse once he mets sqq, no one dares to threaten his position as sqq's future wife, he literally was born to be his spouse!!

[chuuyascumsock]

Roommate! Dazai who frequently sleeps in your bed because it’s more comfortable than his futon and uses it as an excuse to cuddle close to you since your bed isn’t that big. Dazai who can’t help but stare at you as you make a pot of coffee in nothing but an oversized shirt and underwear because you’ve grown comfortable enough to walk around in almost nothing. And Dazai who ends up pressing you against the counter and falling to his knees to slip your underwear down and spread your cheeks with the palms of his hands to eat you out from behind and moans loudly into your slick pussy as he laps up everything you have to offer.

[jays-doodle-spool]

someone should write a story where there’s ppl stuck in a time loop, but the pov is from someone who rlly doesn’t care. there’s a whole ‘protagonist group’ or whatever trying to figure out how to escape the loop but this dude has just kept living their life so no one has noticed that they’re also stuck. they’re just sipping the exact same coffee order for the hundredth time watching the group strategize at an adjacent table and thinkin “man, wonder if they’re gonna figure out how to fix that today.”

[kinardscake]

Chimney discovers a recipe for making Buck do whatever he wants him to do. Only 3 ingredients are needed: a daughter, a pilot and a toy.

He discovers it by accident when Buck and Tommy come over for dinner one day. And it’s a special “I need something and only you can help me” kind of dinner. So they go all out making Buck’s favorite foods hoping that he’d agree to babysit Jee-Yun for a few days while they go away on a shortest, tiniest vacation.

The dinner is over and it’s now or never. Chimney asks Jee-Yun to show Tommy her new toy helicopter while ‘Mommy and Daddy talk to uncle Buck’.

They start off by saying how much Jee-Yun loves him and how great it would be for her to spend so much time with her favorite uncle. And Buck just says “yes”, no hesitation, no questions, not needing them to convince him. That’s when Chimney realizes that Buck didn’t even look at them once, his eyes were fixed on his boyfriend playing with his niece the entire time.

A theory starts forming in his head, because Buck agreed way too easily. Of course, it could be because Buck loves Jee-Yun and his daughter is an angel (most of the time anyway), but his heart tells him it’s not it.

So, Chimney sets out to prove his newfound theory.

At Bobby and Athena’s house he ask Jee-Yun to go up to uncle Buck and Tommy and ask Tommy to give her a piggyback ride. Meanwhile Chimney asks Buck to take over his firehouse quarters’ cleaning duties next shift. Buck agrees.

At the Wilsons’ house Buck agrees to loan Chimney his precious car for a week.

At his house Buck agrees to name his firstborn child Howard.

At the firehouse team and family party Chimney and Maddie once again find themselves asking Buck to babysit Jee-Yun for a couple of days. Buck agrees, looking at them this time, a dreamy look in his eyes. He says he and Tommy love having her around. And they could use the practice.

Maddie jumps up in her seat and asks Buck if he’s thinking about starting a family with Tommy.

Buck shows her his left hand, his ring finger no longer empty. “We already have,” he says, “Asked each other last night.”

Tommy comes over with Jee-Yun on his shoulders, laughing and shrieking “Uncle Tommy” while he tickles her feet.

He sees the stunned expressions on his future in-laws’ faces and Buck twirling his ring, smiling wide.

Tommy laughs, connecting the dots. He sets Jee-Yun down. He grabs Buck’s hand and sits down next to him.

“Maddie and Chim are asking us to babysit Jee-Yun next week,” Buck says happily. “I said sure.”

“Seeing me and her worked like a charm again, huh?” Tommy laughs again while Buck shrugs his shoulders.

Tommy looks at Chimney and Maddie and says, “We’d be happy to,” and adds after a moment, “By the way, Howie. We’re not naming our first child Howard, I’m sorry.”

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[bluerosefox]

CAT Ghost INSTINCTS

Damian comes back to the manor one day with... a new school acquaintance (coughfriendcough) due to the fact they need to work on a school project together and Danny Fenton was the only one in that class that Damian would tolerate to have as a partner.

Everything about the kid seemed normal, heck very normal if a bit shy... or at least that was until the kid suddenly zero focused on a corner of the room and stared at it non blinking. Then after what felt like hours blinked once and returned to normal, chatting away like nothing happened.

....It also doesn't help that Alfred the cat... did the same thing.. at the same time as Danny.

Yeah something is... off about Damian's new friend.

[otaku553]

Haha

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[kinselu]

they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!

fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3

they are the STINKIEST of family...

(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)

[sssammich]

💘 supercorp bc its on brand for them

omg ok i finally have some time to write the rest of these so we're gonna tackle this one!

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

ask meme

---

Lena has to chew on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing, forcing her face muscles to stay absolutely still. She covers her face with her hand, pressing her palm up to her lips as she attempts to make sense of what Alex is saying to her...to them.

She drops her hand down on her lap and is about to respond when Kara, having been equally quiet beside her on the couch, rests her elbows on her knees and asks the question that's on the tip of Lena's tongue.

"You want us to be in a pretend relationship?"

"I don't just want you two to be in a pretend relationship, I need you two to be in a pretend relationship."

"That's--"

"It can't be that hard," Alex reasons, almost talking to herself, her hands on her hips as she stands across the coffee table of Kara's apartment staring at them with a completely serious face. Lena and Kara share a shocked look with one another.

"And why not?" she challenges, unable to help herself.

"Because you two are best friends," Alex responds smoothly and stares at them expectantly. Hard to fault Alex about that. She and Kara are best friends with each other.

"Run it back again," Kara interrupts. "Explain one more time why we need to be dating."

Alex huffs, though by the way she drops to her knees in front of the coffee table, steepling her hands as she rests her elbows on the wooden surface, Lena suspects that Alex thinks that she's hooked them.

"Because the entire operation hinges on the fact that you're already in a relationship. And since this is so last minute, the most believable option we have going for you is your best friend who you already spend so much time with."

Lena tilts her head. It all makes sense, all things considered. She already spends almost all of her free time with Kara whether at her penthouse or at Kara's apartment (which, for the record, is where they are currently, and where she had been for the better part of the last three hours since finishing up some work earlier that afternoon).

"It makes sense," she says out loud, as if considering Alex's words.

"I knew you were the best Luthor out there," Alex quips, leaning forward. Lena can guess that Alex feels so close to attaining what she needs from the two of them, but Kara beside her doesn't sound as sold.

"I don't know, Alex. Don't you think we've done our fair share of deception and lying?"

Alex rolls her eyes, her hands pressed flat on the table in front of her. "Kara. You are a superhero vigilante with a secret identity. Deception and lying is literally part of your everyday life."

Kara turns to Lena for support, the corners of her lips tugged down and strained. Lena gives her a supportive albeit apologetic smile. "She has a point, darling," she says finally.

The pout on Kara's face is worth a hundred kisses to make go away, Lena thinks, but she doesn't move. "I thought you were on my side?"

"I am on your side. But so far, your sister is making good points. Even though the why is still a bit flimsy."

"I just said the operation--"

"But why does this supposed operation require Kara being in a relationship? Can't she simply be unavailable or that she's not currently in the headspace to date?" she asks, her hand placed on Kara's back, rubbing soothing circles between Kara's shoulder blades. She resists smiling when Kara leans a bit closer to her, as if Lena can't reach her. There's literally no space of distance between them already on the couch.

"Because," Alex starts. "There are going to be relatives and family friends from Kelly's side that'll be relentless--" and this is where Lena is baffled by how Alex is acting, "--to insist that they will have the best and most suitable eligible single daughter or son that's perfect for you, Kara. And you too, Lena. Don't think you'll get out of this scot-free."

Her face furrows in confusion. "Me?"

"Yes! They will, undoubtedly, ruin the wedding by trying to set both of you two up with other people, and we honestly can't have you two distract everyone from our big day."

Lena's eyes narrow at Alex whose own gaze is fixed in staring at her sister. It's an odd request, and her suspicions are raising alarms inside of her mind. Still, she keeps quiet, especially when Kara leans forward, her strong hand somehow landing on Lena's knee as she does so.

"You think we'll be distracting you and Kelly on your guys' big day?"

Lena pretends to scratch at her chin to try and cover her mouth knowing that she can just about hear the pout in Kara's voice.

"God, no. That's not--" Alex takes a deep breath as she straightens herself up from where she's kneeling by the coffee table. "Kara. It's not you two I'm worried about, it's them. They are going to make a big deal and I'm just trying to protect the both of you. And, of course, my wedding day with Kelly. And the truth of the matter is that there's no reason to wait for things to happen when we can prepare and cover all of our bases. That's all."

The truth of the matter. That's an interesting choice of words, Lena ponders, but she keeps those thoughts to herself.

Kara worries her bottom lip between her teeth even as her hand stays on Lena's knee. From the corner of her eye, she catches sight of Alex's gaze dropping to Kara's hand and Lena's leg, no doubt making a mental note of what she's seeing. But Lena's attention is pulled back to Kara who has now twisted her body to better look at Lena beside her. For her part, Lena stays in her exact position, hand on Kara's back, and waits for Kara's lead.

"What do you think?" she asks, her face serious, though something flashes in her eyes before Lena could really read what it had been.

"I think..." Lena begins to say, weighing every word that comes out of her mouth. "It's better to be safe than sorry."

Kara stares at her for a long moment, like it's just the two of them in the room, before sighing and leaning back, suspending Lena's hand between her back and the couch. Lena doesn't mind in the slightest, instead lets the tips of her fingers gently scratch Kara's back.

"That's all?" Kara asks, this time the question directed to her sister.

Lena turns her face enough to witness how Alex strains from smiling too wide when she nods emphatically and says, "That's all. That's it."

The longest five seconds seem to pass over all three of them until Kara sighs. "Fine. We'll do it."

Alex struggles to keep her fist pump under control and Lena wants to roll her eyes.

"Great. Figure out whatever cover story you two think will work the best. Remember, closer to the truth works best."

"I think we'll figure it out just fine, Alex," she comments, her voice taking on an airy tone. "It's not the first time we've had to give a cover story."

Alex nods again before rising to her feet. "Right, right. Okay, I'm gonna go home to the missus, and you two can work on your cover story."

Kara's just about to get up when Alex stops her. "You stay put, I'll let myself out. Have your story figured out by brunch this weekend. Sound good?"

She and Kara glance at one another before returning their focus on Alex. With her free hand, she offers a mock salute just as Kara nods up at her sister.

When Alex shuts the door behind her and leaves the two of them still on the couch, it's Kara who breaks first, tugging at Lena's arm from behind her so she can perch it around Kara's shoulder, their fingers tangled by Kara's bicep, before slumping further down on the couch with a loud exhale. She rests her head on Lena's shoulder, and Lena places a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

"You know, she used to be so much better at lying. Like I didn't even know she worked for a shadow government organization."

Lena chuckles, despite herself, and pulls Kara closer to her. "She was laying it on rather thick, I thought."

Kara tilts her head up, her ear resting on Lena's shoulder as their faces sit only a few short inches apart.

"Good work on the pouting, though. I think you really sold it."

The sleepy smile on Kara's face widens into a proud one. "You like that? I was really considering the waterworks but I think I would have given it away if I did."

"Mm, probably."

"You're a little actress yourself, Luthor," Kara comments with barely contained laughter. "Better safe than sorry. Pfft. You were practically having Alex eat out of the palm of your hands with how much you were agreeing with her. So devious."

"If there's anything Lex ever taught me, it's having the theatrical range."

Kara snorts before shuffling to sit back up. "How mad do you think Alex will be when she finds out that we're already dating?"

Lena shrugs, thinking about all of Alex's possible reactions. "Oh, I'm sure she'll never let you live it down."

"Us, babe," Kara says, leaning forward, the tips of their noses brushing with each other. "She'll never let us live it down."

"She shouldn't assume then," Lena answers before closing the remaining gap between them. Their lips slotting perfectly in place pressed against each other. It's still new, this feeling, but Lena thinks that she'll never tire of it.

Her breath hitches when she feels Kara's strong hand release her fingers only to grip her nape, followed by the smirk she knows is on Kara's lips.

"Wanna figure out our cover story in bed?"

She raises a brow, but Kara just shrugs. "So is that a no?"

Lena rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around Kara's neck as Kara carries her towards the bed.

"I was thinking we tell people it was love at first sight," Kara muses.

Lena throws her head back in laughter, just in time for Kara to place a kiss on the hollow of her throat. She thinks love at first sight is not too far from the truth at all, and didn't Alex say the closer it is to the truth, the better?