#my sleep schedule has been messed up for a few days and didn't get much of it last night

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

Old beans doodle before I call it a night

[satinestales]

❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader

pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha

a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.

m.list

You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.

10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.

It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.

You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.

Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.

"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.

"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.

You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.

You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.

"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.

"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.

You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.

It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.

Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.

"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.

You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.

"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.

"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.

"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.

"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.

Ideally, both.

Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.

"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.

God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.

"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your heart sank. Holy fuck.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.

"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.

[ocinstar]

Heart and soul

Spencer reid x reader

Summary: slow dancing in your living room turns into an unexpected proposal.

Cw: fluffy fluff, established relationship, use of y/n, use of "mrs" and "girl" (but other than that theres not much fem pronouns)

Wc: 1877

A/n: first time writing a slow dancing scene guys!

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I wasn't having the best day. I had been called in earlier for work since they were understaffed and had to do the majority of the work. I didn't have any more coffee left at home and didn't have time go get some from the coffee shop, so I were tired all day with no aid. On top of all of that, my boyfriend had been gone for almost 3 days and I didn't know when he'd be back.

Of course I knew Spencers job was important, he was saving lives and catching killers. But it would be nice to have him all to yourself for a week before he was swept to a different state. Spencer and I talked on the phone every night and texted each other throughout the day, but it wasn't the same. Not having him next to me in bed every night has severely messed with my sleep schedule, missing the warmth of him next to me. You'd think after 2 years of this that it'd get easier, but it really hasn't.

I felt so much lighter as you walked up to your apartment door, feeling relieved to know the day was over and you could relax. You thought about the warm shower and nap you were going to take as you unlocked the door. As you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised to see spencer sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. He looked up as you shut the door behind you.

"Hi, love." He smiled, getting up to greet me. He kissed me on the cheek and took the purse off my shoulder and onto the table beside the door.

"Hey, I thought you weren't gonna be back till tomorrow?" I wrapped my arms around his torso and smiled up at him, happy for him to be home so early.

"Case ending sooner than I expected, thought I'd surprise you." He gestured behind him with his head. I looked over to the coffee table to see a spread of food from our favorite Chinese restaurant and my favorite a bottle of wine. I got excited just at the sight of the feast he had bought for the both of you.

"Oh thank god, I'm starving." I unwrapped my arms from him, hurrying over to the food. He laughed as I wasted no time in filling up my plate and shoveling food into my mouth.

"How was your day?" Spencer asked as he sat down beside me, filling up his own plate much slower than I had.

"Better now." I said, words muffled by the food in my mouth. Before eating, he opened the bottle of wine and poured me a glass.

"Thank you, honey." I said once I had swallowed my food. He smiled at me and began to eat the noodles on his plate. Once I wasn't feeling so ravenous, I slowed my pace of eating, now taking normal sized bites.

"How was your case? Did you catch all the bad guys? Save the city?" I asked as U took another bite of chicken.

"I'm not batman." He laughed. With his work hours he mine as well be. "But yes, we did catch the "bad guy" and actually saved another victim."

I always felt proud of him when he tells me about his work. I mean, you're always proud of him. But there's something about the way he talks about the cases he works, the people he helps that just makes me extra proud.

"Gothem is saved once more!" We both shared a short laugh. We quickly fall into comfortable conversation as we finish our meal, him telling me as much from his case as he could without spoiling my appetite and me telling him about the day I had at work.

After eating as much as we could, we cuddled up on the couch. My head rested on his chest as his hand rubs my back. I listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat, sighing contently as he talked about a new book he had just finished.

"I should probably clean this up." He said after a few minutes of us cuddling.

"No, no, I'll clean up." I pushed myself up and crawled over him to get up.

"It's ok, I'll clean up. You relax." He stood up and began to stack our plates. I grabbed them from him before he could take them to the kitchen.

"No. I'm cleaning. It's the least I could do after you bought all this." He sighed in defeat and say back down. I kissed his forehead before grabbing as much containers as I could and heading to the kitchen.

As I tossed out plates into the sink and the empty food containers into the trash. I heard spencer shuffling around in the living room, then I heard the scratching of the record player and then the opening to "every time we say goodbye" by Ella Fitzgerald begin to play. I smiled to myself and walked out from the kitchen to see spencer standing nervously. He had dimmed the lights and lit a few candles.

"Dance with me?" He asked as he held his hand out to me.

"Always the romantic." I walked over to him and took hid hand. He pulled me into close to him, putting his other hand on my waist. We quickly fell into a steady rythme, swaying along to the music. I wasn't much of a dancer, so I let spencer lead me through step. We smiled at each other, never breaking eye contact as we danced.

He took the hand I had on his shoulder in his, pulling me in and pushing me out. I giggled as he pulled me back to him, wrapped his arm around my waist and holding me as close as humanly possible. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and he rested his head on mine. I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of having him close. The world seemed to disappear completely, leaving just us in its wake. Any memories of that day had been completely erased from my mind and all i felt was peace.

"One last spin." I heard him say when the song was nearly over. I laughed and put some distance between us so he could spin me. He lifted his arm slightly, twirling me under it. He released my hand when I was turned towards him again.

I was confused for a moment, until I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a box. My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him drop to one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful ring. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

"I, uh, I had this whole speech planned out, but I forgot everything. I, um, I've never done this before- obviously. But, um-" he cleared his throat, trying to fight off the shakiness in his voice.

"Ok-" -he took a deep breath- "I love you. I love you more than everything in existence. I love how you make me better, I love waking up to you, I love how you push me to try new things even if it's out of my confort zone. You've taught me so much. You're my biggest supporter and my bestest friend. Every time I imagine my future, you are always in it. I couldn't imagine my life without you and I want to stay by your side forever. So, y/n l/n, will you marry me?" Happy tears ran down my cheeks as I listened to him.

"Yes! Yes!" I shouted loudly, practically jumping up and down from joy. I leap towards him ad he stood, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss. He stumbled back a little at the sudden force, but he quickly found his footing and wrapped his arms around my waist. My hands moved to cup his face and I pull him in closer. I pulled back, resting my forehead on his as we both smiled widely. We laughed when we saw the other, both of us with tear stained cheeks and goofy smiles.

"Oh right!" He sniffled and held up the ring box. He took my left hand in his, taking the ring from the box and slipping it on my ring finger. I marveled at the jewelry, a beautiful silver band with my birth stone on it. It was absolutely perfect.

"Oh my god, spencer. I love it!" I looked up at his beaming face. He chuckled.

"I'm glad you like it. Penelope helped me pick it out." I had talked to Penelope about my dream ring before, so of course she'd know exactly which one I'd want.

"It's perfect." I smiled at the ring on my finger. I felt like I was dreaming, like I'd wake up any second in an empty bed. But this was real. Spencer, my best friend and love of my life was now my fiance. I couldn't explain how i felt, it was far beyond happiness or any other emotion. I felt complete.

"I love you so much." I peppered kisses all over his face as I murmured 'I love you' over and over. His cheeks turned pink and his smile grew. I settled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body. We stayed like that for a long time. Just taking in the feeling of each other, feeling the connection of our souls.

~~~

Later that night, we sat together in bed and disgusted what our wedding would be like. We searched for venues online and talked about dates. Of course we weren't deciding anything right away, but we could barely contain our excitement for our day. In the middle of looking at decoration ideas, Spencer's phone rang. We both smiled at each other when we saw the name on the screen. He hit answer and put it on speaker.

"Did she say yes?!" Penelope asked from the other line.

"I did." I laughed and she squealed loudly.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" We heard her shuffling around and opening doors.

"Our genius is getting married!" She yelled out and we heard a bunch of people cheering.

"Wait Garcia, who's there?" Spencer asked.

"The whole team." Spencer and I shared a short laugh.

"Hi guys!" I yelled over the phone, hoping she had us on speaker. She did and everyone yelled hi back to me.

"Way to go, pretty boy!" We heard Derek say from the background. Spencer smiled.

"And congrats to you, Mrs. Pretty girl." He followed up with a cheer.

"I knew she'd say yes! Oh my god, this is so exciting! I'm so happy for you guys!" Penelope yelped. We got more congratulations from the team before hanging up and falling into conversation about their reactions.

We talked about our wedding for a while longer before we started to get sleepy. We cuddled up in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. Sleep was fast to come as the memories of today replayed in my head. I felt full as I drifed off to sleep in the arms of my love. My fiance.

~~~

A/n: thank you to the person who requested this! I loved this idea so much.

[sheepispink]

The Presence of Another

supersoldier!reader x ltghost (+ tf141)

part 9 of Weaponised Series Masterlist

a/n: all relationships are platonic, prolly some ooc who knows

part one previous next

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You sleep surprisingly fine without the stuffed animals, and you wake up around twenty minutes after Ghost does. It’s not much of an issue, since you both get to the mess hall in time to sit opposite the two sergeants, who seem awfully indifferent to the fact you had passed out yesterday. Or perhaps they really didn't know, because they just spent the whole time debriefing you about the mission they went on whilst Ghost would occasionally signal them to cut out parts he didn't want you knowing— more specifically the men who had died in your place.

Thankfully, duties had called them away before they could talk your ear off and now the two of you were headed down to the smaller gym which is always emptier and so far quieter.

 “So, how long do you usually run?”

“Five miles? 20 laps usually.” 

His brows raise for a second before he shrugs it off, writing something down on the clipboard he has. It’s somewhat amusing to you, even for a split second, seeing Ghost holding up a clipboard like that. Maybe you’ve been hanging around the sergeants far too much, but he really does not look like the type of guy to even touch one of them. “Oi, pay attention.” His pen taps the corner of the board, rolling his eyes when he sees that dazed look, and you sheepishly shake your head to snap out of it. “At what point does it start getting painful?”

“Well, my vision gets a little hazy around the fourth, but it’s only painful half a mile after.”

Hearing you talk about your struggles so casually will never be normal to him, but he knows that if he tries to address it now, it’d only cause more problems— right now, he’s on thin ice. 

“Right. We’ll start with just four miles every day now—”

“But I always do five. I’ve done five for months now.” For once, you interrupt, features twisting as he reduces your laps just because you felt a bit off. For you, it didn't matter all that much— the pain was part of this life— so you didn't understand the need for it.

“Well, clearly you’re not in the same state as you were last month when you could do it, hm? Remember those pills you didn't take? The seizure?” His reminder is slightly harsh, but it’s true— you weren't the same person anymore. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he definitely wasn't the same person he was before he met you, nor was he the same person when he started the force. Though, he can understand why it might feel that way for you. The only way you’re supposed to move is forward, never backwards. Thankfully, you seem to have got the memo when you don't argue any further. 

“Good. How about your arm and leg workout then?”

He’d be a liar if he didn't find it somewhat amusing when you’d get a little riled up at each of his decisions. You can't stand changing from routine, that’s clear, but even the slightest change for your own health has your brows furrowing and cheeks puffing. Though, you do end up agreeing to all his plans by the end of it, especially when he promises to only trial it for two weeks. Now you’ll take a break after three miles, run the next mile and, depending on if you get dizzy or not, you’ll run the next half mile too. As for the workouts, he has you on very basic warmups to begin with, stretches are a must since you tend to skip them in your haste; you even promised that you’ll drink at least half a litre between each workout now. 

Part of the reason you agreed was only because he had promised he’d find something to occupy you in exchange for everything he cut out. He didn't want to give you something too slow, since he knows that it’d just allow your mind to easily consume and eat at you again, so he has to think smarter— he has to think in your shoes… This might take a while.

————

You’ve noticed a few changes in your schedule ever since you requested to be in Ghost’s room. 

First of all, the sergeants are pretty adamant in feigning anger at you for not picking either of them, giving you a playful nudge whenever you complain about Ghost not letting you do things and insisting they would. It had horrified you the first time, after Price’s reaction you had thought they were being serious and almost panicked. Ghost had scolded them after that. Now you roll your eyes as Gaz pretends to be hurt by the ‘blatant favouritism’ as he calls it.

Another thing is that post workouts are a lot different. Your schedule has changed massively since you had been the perfect soldier, starting with meals with the team and their doting. Now, instead of eating whatever scraps there are for dinner and scrubbing yourself raw as fast as you can in the communal shower rooms, you take long warm showers in Ghost’s bathroom. Apparently he’s had a budget allocated for you by the higher ups for some time, and it’s racked up to a big amount after the months it wasn't put to use. Not that you would’ve really asked for anything if you knew, but now you get some nice smelling soaps— never lavender though.

Ghost did keep your ‘bedtime’ roughly the same, after he figured out you even set yourself one.

“You get tired awfully early.” He had stated when you yawned during an evening walk with him. It was the fifth day of this new regime, and you didn't really think it was that big of a deal. “I used to always sleep at eight thirty—that was my usual time.” 

“Eight? Why?”

You blink, not really thinking much into your self-proclaimed bedtime because when things worked, things worked. You didn't need to question further, did you?  

“I.. It started after the second week I came here, I think.” Now that he’s got that train of thought running, you can’t help but question how it even came to that early, or maybe it was only because you really had nothing else to do.  “I wasn’t eating all that much, so I relied on sleep for energy instead. At least, that’s how I made the decision I think. Plus, that’s when I'd get startled by nightmares, so I had to give enough time for me to wake up every night and then fall back asleep whilst still getting a good amount of it.”

He stops walking and cocks his head, gesturing for you to sit and the wood creaks when he finally settles too. Nights are still cold, so you have his flimsy hoodie protecting your arms, and he’s bundled in a warm jacket. The both of you are quiet for a little, your eyes focusing on the forest where you had hidden in only a month ago now. Sometimes you still wait, listening for the small yips, a rustle of the bushes or the slightest flash of orange— any sign of that little fox. 

“You know it’s fine, right?” 

“What?”

“Don’t go believin’ every word you’re told. You don't need to push yourself to run five miles. You’re allowed, and should stop when it hurts.”

Ever since that evening you’ve believed his words, in fact you’ve believed everything he’s said to you. It was more than the Captain had ever said to soothe you; it was even more than what that medic had promised you. It wasn’t pity, nor was it even comfort— it was cold hard truth, a command if anything. Weirdly enough, that made your stomach settle, and you didn't doubt it for a second, choosing to just nod and listen. 

So, you stopped arguing, stopped complaining when he gave you a proper breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You definitely didn't complain when he nudged you to bed at eight thirty because, for every day in this strange new regime, you’ve been working just as hard as before and not once have you ever felt that crushing pain.

———————

It’s been a week and a half, and you stumble in at eight o clock as usual. Sometimes Ghost isn't here, and sometimes he is, it really depends on the day. The others have all their differing schedules, and you’re okay with it really— you kind of like the alone time you’ve got now that they’re not coddling you anymore. Price has also kept a fair distance ever since he got angry with you. He did in fact talk to you mildly about it, but after Ghost told him that he’d handle your overexertion he’d dropped the matter quickly. Now you rarely saw him, apart from the occasional uncomfortable breakfast, but the sergeants made sure that the silence never grew too awkward. 

You change into your pajamas, which happens to just be one of Ghost’s old shirts, and then the one pair of joggers you own. One thing you discovered after staying in his room was that you could get away with practically anything just by the excuse of your wellbeing. Maybe Soap was rubbing off on you just a tad.

Now you wear his shirts to bed, because you still haven’t bought me anymore, you say, and he rolls his eyes, begrudgingly letting you take them. Sometimes when he comes to bed he finds you sprawled out like a starfish, taking up as much space as you can just so he grunts, pushing you to the side easily. When he asks about it in the morning, you just shrug, refusing to believe that you even do any of that. He doesn't pay too much mind to your little antics, quickly reminding you that you’re still on punishment for what you pulled and that he can make you sleep on the floor if he so wishes.

You climb onto the bed with a sigh, feeling strange without the usual weight in your arms, nor the softness of your old duvets. Ghost’s weren't bad, no they were comfortable, but you had got too used to your old ones, and now you were regretting pulling your little escapade in the first case. Well, you suppose that was the point of the punishment, to make you regret your actions.

With a soft huff you push your face into the pillow, forcing your eyes shut so you don't think too hard about how quiet this room sounds without him, or how cold the bed is. There are things to do tomorrow— you need to stop caring.

————

Your fingers curl into fists, the sheets rubbing against your skin as you squirm and push your head further forward, trying to push through the haze that seems to attack you with every blink. 

Nothing happens, no light greeting you even with how far you’ve run, and so for once you stop, swallowing sharply. You thought you could handle this, the visions, they never got this bad, and Ghost never noticed anyway— but this was different. Slowly, you take deep breaths, try to concentrate on the whispers swirling around, the flashes of colour that never quite linger for a second longer.

Your hand snaps to the side, grabbing something— or someone— by the neck. You don't dare look, already recognising the cruel voices of the petty soldiers who tried to kill you. Well, they’d be the ones to die this time

Releasing your grip, the body dissipates between your fingers, mere dust as your chest pumps harder, something pushing you further. The deep breaths don't settle the race this time, only tingling your nerves as something looms, towers over you. Not this time. Never again.

Your arm shoots out, the figure right there for you to grab, but you miss, grabbing at the air. Though the figure still overlooks you, threatening as it leans closer and closer. You steady yourself, desperately trying anything and everything to grasp the heavy pressure weighing down on your chest, the monster tearing into your throat. Every night it worked, so why not this one? Why not this time? 

——

So many unanswered questions contaminate your brain, but the second the light finally fills your eyes all you can think of is “What- what’s going on?”

You’re pressed against the floor, pain rumbling through your middle with the heavy lamp rolling away from you on the hard floor. Two hands lock your wrists still, brown eyes staring back at you in the dark of the room. “A nightmare.” Ghost breathes out and, if not for his pale nose huffing out in relief when he lets go, you would’ve thought this was still the dreamscape.

Slowly you push yourself up onto your elbows and then to finally sit upright, nose twitching at the pain in your abdomen before you just swallow hard and finally look around. Now you notice the lampshade has been knocked far away, a small crack also running up the base of the lamp itself. You must’ve fallen off of the bed in your haze and, similar to other experiences, grabbed onto the lamp which landed directly onto your chest. Well, that explains the pressure you were feeling.

He watches you for a few moments, as your breaths heave, and then you eventually steady yourself, eyes locked on your hands like you’re searching for the usual marks left behind. “This the first one you’ve had?” Recently, anyway. He doesn’t say it, but you know it’s lingering as he stares down at you, your eyes tracking every crease as his lips move, every twitch of his brow and bob of his throat. You shake your head, and he nods, understanding, and his eyes roam over your body yet again, watching the way your fingers curl against the hardwood floor. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

Somehow his voice sounds softer, even if it's at the exact same volume, and you slowly shake your head, his brow furrowing just slightly at your words. You know he wants you to tell him; it’s not like you’ve never talked about them before, in fact you have plenty of times. The scientists never allowed you much privacy.

“Can’t tell you. I don't even know what happened myself.”

Your answer is vague, and honestly a little suspicious. Though, he just locks onto your eyes for a few moments, slowly looking over your features before eventually reaching forward and giving his hand out to help you up. You take it, his large hand tightly pulling you upright before he leans down to pick up the lamp and its shade, placing it back on the counter. “I knew my duvets were pretty bad, but I didn't think you’d rather fall off the bed than be in them.” He mutters, acting like he hadn't just tried to joke with you so casually, before kicking some slippers over to you. “C’mon.”

You follow him down the corridor, down towards your room where he slides his key in and opens it. The room isn't how you remembered leaving it, covers thrown on the floor, drawers, and the closet opened wide and even clothes cluttered on the floor. “Price ordered some soldiers to search your room.” He gruffly states, and you just nod, more taken aback that he had willingly given up that information to you.

“Why?”

He shrugs, pulling your duvet off the bed and tucking it beneath his arm as he reaches for your pillows as well. “Must’ve been searching for something. He didn't find anything, at least not that I know.” You nod slowly, and pick up the two stuffed animals, turning them over in your hands. The soft fur warms your cold hands, making you forget about the sweat trickling down your neck as he heads towards your closet, peeking through the mess made. “Huh, you really don't have any clothes. Well, apart from the uniforms I moved over.”

“Told you.” You murmur, eyes still locked onto the stuffed animals before you finally tuck it beneath your arm, turning over to where he looks at the name engraved into one of your old uniforms. “Maybe he thought I got another gun.” It slips out and, for some stupid reason. you snort at the thought of that gift box on your dresser again, the note inside and the gun laying there so pristine. Some part of you does find it wildly amusing thinking about what Price’s reaction would be, especially after everything you now know. Maybe you could play bingo with whatever fake words he’d spew this time.

“Hmm, you’re not shaken up enough that you can't joke, so do you really need those?” He smirks, gesturing to the plushies in your hands.

“What? You’re the one who forced me to buy them.”

“No, that was Price. I was planning to knock you out every night; pretty good technique I'd say.”

You can’t believe his audacity, to openly say he’d punch you to sleep after he had been the cause of so much that had happened recently. It’s such a wild thing to say that you immediately laugh, a smile breaking out on your face. “Guess you’re speaking from experience then.”

“You’d never know, mask hides it all.” He plucks one of the stuffies out your hands, stealing it from you and squashing it beneath his arm with the duvet. “We better get back before you fall asleep standing up.” He strides out of the room before you can retort, making you jog slightly to keep up with his longer steps– almost like he’s trying to escape your wrath.

“I don't even need sleep– I’ve told you like a million times, and you don't believe me.” He looks straight at you and rolls his eyes before pulling the black balaclava off, closing his room door behind you. “I can withstand many hours awake!” He’s replaced his blankets with yours now, your softer pillows rather than his flattened ones. 

“And you still drool all over the pillows.”

Your face scrunches up, unbelieving as he continues to get even more cocky with his words.  Before you can muster up a response, you’re ushered into bed, beneath the covers with the two stuffed animals tucked right beside you. The mattress dips as he slides in, his face just barely visible in the dim light. 

“If you don't sleep, I will lock you in this room for the whole day. Some poor soldiers will have to guard the windows too.”

You swallow, not wanting to be sitting still any longer than you want to be. The insistence to not sleep was nothing more than empty complaints, just to get on his nerves a tad, but you hadn't realised he’d go that far. That is, to threaten you into sleeping. It’s not exactly like you don't deserve the threat either— it’s for a good cause, that being your health.

The adrenaline of the dream has died down now, finally leaving your heart in its usual steady rhythm and the cold sweat disappearing. However, a little bit still lingers, the reason why you’re still awake now. Even as you hold one of the plushies close to your chest, hidden beneath the duvet, you can't help but be a little worried it’ll return. You’ve seen worse, known worse, but there’s something about him witnessing it first hand that gets you.

“Y’alright?” He asks, reaching over to fluff your pillow a little, but you snap out of and nod quickly, turning over to hide your face away. “Yeah.. Getting comfy, that’s all.”

His eyes still linger on your back that now faces him, your behaviour leaving a worrying feeling settling in his gut no matter how hard he tries to push it down. How had he not noticed the nightmares before? How many had you experienced right beside him? 

“Cold? I can warm it up if you want.” He reaches over your arm to gently pinch at the stuffed animal, before leaving his hand to linger on your upper arm, making you turn back slightly to meet his eyes again. 

“It’s okay, the covers are warm enough.” Your voice lowers to a whisper, the quiet worry in your gut controlling you. 

“Alright. Let me know.” He waits for you to nod before finally turning over, his back now facing you. 

For a while you settle into the haze between awake and asleep, listening for his breaths to slowly even out as a sign of sleep. Though, even with his mask off, it’s impossible to read him. Everything about him is so controlled, disciplined and contained, though just slightly ripping at the seams. You were the same, until you burst that is. March is still cold up north, and the window is a crack open. Goosebumps cover your arms, sending a chill down your back and crawling up to your face. Still, even as you toss and turn, the cold settles on your back like the nightmare did, persisting through all your desperate attempts. Your eyes droop, exhausted, and you know for sure that it’s too late to ask him now for that warmth– even pressing your nose into the plushie does no good for you. 

As you blink again, you watch his shoulder twitch, then again, until he rolls over slightly in his sleep. He settles on his back, chest rising quietly before falling once more. But you’re not thinking about that, more so how warm he is from how his leg had accidentally bumped your knee. You soon fall into a deep sleep with your head on the corner of his pillow, your arm conveniently grazing his and your nose brushing dangerously close to his shoulder. What you didn't know was that your little eagle and wolf would end up discarded to the floor, no longer needed when something else kept you far more grounded.

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

buy me a kofi!

previous next Series Masterlist

a/n:

lmk if you guys prefer longer chapters bcus this would've been over 7k words but i didnt want you guys to wait even LONGER. so the next one is prewritte, yes, and i will release it after editing which shouldnt take long. urm do i need to announce anything else... oh yeah i did well on my exams so the break did pay off, now to grind fanfics for the whole of summer :p

Taglist:

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[bitchface24-7]

MY HEROS - JAYVIK X READER

submission for @pebble-bb

synopsis: You and your two partners finally scheduled a day off to just relax. Work in the lab hasn't gone anywhere due to stress and frustration. You're excited to have a full day to just rewind and be with the two men you love. Until a spider ruins your day.

warnings: reader has arachnophobia (specifically requested), Viktor and Jayce comfort the reader, Viktor deals with the spider, and honestly fluff all around, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration at portrayals of bug phobias Pebble. I too have arachnophobia and my mum teases me about it. I'm going to use my story from my childhood on how I became scared of spiders in this story. Don't worry, no brushing off or teasing here! Pure self-indulgent comfort!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been so long since you three have had a proper day off. Honestly being able to sleep in and have the warmth of the sun wake you up rather than an annoying alarm has already put you in a much better mood. Jayce making breakfast as you and Viktor enjoy sweet milk at the kitchen nook is even better.

You get to watch Jayce dance around the kitchen in nothing but pyjama pants and a frilly pink heart-adorned apron. Viktor got it as a gag gift for Jayce a few years ago now, but Jayce unironically loved it, purely because Viktor gave it to him. Now, whenever Jayce cooks, that apron is on.

Viktor and Jayce are in a heated debate regarding which egg type is best. You just smile at them and finish your sweet milk, going to the reading nook you three set up. It’s cozy. Dark wood, little lamps on the wall, a wall of windows, and deep purple bedding that's soft to the touch. You can't recall how many times a pair of you or all three of you squished into this nook to just read in each other's presence.

You pick up the book you've been dying to read, now finally having a full day off to enjoy it, when something catches your attention in the corner of your eye.

It’s a spider.

It’s about the size of a hexgem, fluffy, and black. You think it is a tarantula; they're harmless, honestly good for catching houseflies and mosquitoes. But its a spider none the less, and you're anxiety has spiked ten fold. You just stare at the spider as you slowly lower your book and make your way back to the kitchen, not taking your eyes off of it.

Eventually, you make it back to the kitchen to spot your two partners, still arguing about eggs.

“Scrambled is the best!”

“If you like your eggs to feel like rubber! Sunny side up is the best!”

“If you like to make a mess like a child, you— Darling. What's wrong?”

Their argument ceases at the sight of you. You look like a child in all honesty. The way you're wringing your hands and shuffling on your feet.

“Sorry, I— I didn't mean to bother you guys on our day off but there's a spider in the reading nook and—”

Viktor casually stands up, grabbing his cane to walk with you, “and you want one of us to deal with it.”

“Yes please.” you lightly nod.

You and Viktor walk to the nook as Jayce continues to make breakfast. The walk is short but to you a pit of doom encapsulates your stomach. What if the spider moved? What if its closer than before? What if—

Your panicking thoughts are stopped once you see the spider hasn't moved, and Viktor reaches up and puts it in his hand, cupping the spider with his other hand.

“Darling, could you be a dear and open one of those windows for me? So I can put the spider outside?”

Without question, you rush to the window and open it. It’s lightly raining but you'd rather deal with a lightly damp windowsill than that fuzzy beast.

Viktor ambles over and puts his hands outside the window, allowing the spider to leave his palm. It walks out calmly, over the windowsill and up the apartment building. Viktor casually puts his hands back into the apartment and closes the window.

And with that, your anxiety is gone.

“Sounds like Jayce is done with breakfast, why don't we clean up a bit and join him at the table, hmm?”

All you can do is gratefully nod.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As you and Viktor come back to the main part of the apartment, you see your seats are already set up. Your eggs are done to perfection. In the center of the table is a bowl of berries, a plate of buttered toast, and a plate of bacon.

“Is everything okay?” Jayce asks, a concerned tone evident in every syllable.

The two of you just nod and take your seats, “It was a spider.”

Jayce hums at Viktor's response, “Gotcha. You doing good babe?”

“I’m good. Thanks for not teasing me.”

Viktor and Jayce look at each other in confusion, “Why would we tease you?”

You sigh heavily as you go to drink another glass of sweet milk, “When I was little, about four years old, I was in the apartment alone. My parents were outside on the balcony, and a massive tarantula was crawling towards me. I mean like— the size of my fist big. That's pretty fucking big for a four-year-old. I was screaming and crying because I had never seen a spider that big before, my mum heard me panicking and killed the spider with a can of air freshener. Ever since then, I've been afraid of spiders. Other bugs get to me too like wasps, and centipedes. But spiders take the cake. My mum teases me every time I squick out over a spider, or bug in general.”

Viktor and Jayce hum in understanding, “That is quite scary, especially as a four-year-old. That type of fear is completely understandable.”

“Yeah!” Jayce adds as he puts a hand over yours, “We’d never make fun of you for something like that. Would you make fun of us? Would you make fun of my fear of the cold and snow storms?”

“What?!” you gasp appalled, “Absolutely not!”

Viktor chims in, “Would you make fun of my fear of being forgotten?”

“No!”

The two men smile sweetly at you, “Then we're not going to make fun of your fear of spiders. We all have fears, they're a natural part of life.”

And with that, the three of you eat breakfast in peace. Well relative peace. Jayce and Viktor are now arguing about which type of chocolate is better.

You wouldn't change this for the world, you sigh contently as you sip your sweet milk, looking lovingly at the two men in your life.

You wouldn't change a goddamn thing.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I hope y'all enjoyed this little fluffy ball of goodness! Especially you @pebble-bb!! This is the first submission I've ever gotten and I hope I did this right. It didn't come to my inbox like an ask so I just made a new file and ensured Pebble was @’d LOL.

Anyways, continue with the asks/submissions! I currently have four drafts waiting to be worked on LMAO, should I make a greeting post and pin it with rules and all that stuff? I'm honestly down to write whatever, but if something does squick me out I'll deny it.

[homestylehughes]

i wanna taste

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after one sight of y/n, jack has to get a taste.

warnings: smut 18+. oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, cussing, use of pet names. fluff, soft jack.

wc: 1.8k

au: hi loves! im on a writing streak (thank you spring break). im back with some jack smut woooohooooo, i realllllyyyy enjoyed writing this, i hope you guys enjoy. like and reblog if you enjoy<3.

happy reading <3

Rain softly hits the window, the soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room illuminates the room with a soft glow. 

I've been awake for a few hours, my body waking me up at 5 am, turning over to see that Jack was sound asleep beside me, I decided to get out of bed and start my day.

Settling on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands along with my book, this is where I've been for the last 3 hours. The book captivated me so much I didn't even check the time until I had finished it. 

The clock read 8:15, I was genuinely surprised Jack wasn't awake yet. His crazy hockey schedule kept him awake and up at odd hours, his body probably needed all of the sleep it could get. 

Getting up to get another cup of coffee, and the second book of the series I’m reading, I settle back into the couch and enter an alternate universe. 

I'm so into my book, that I don't even realize Jack creeping up behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck, nessling his face in my neck, feeling  his warm breath fan my neck. 

“Good morning pretty girl” I hear him say, as his face is still muffled in my neck. 

“Good morning” I say back as I crane my neck up to meet his face, getting a good look at his face for the first time today. 

Taking in his sleepy doe like state, hair a mess, eyes full of sleep, leaving evidence that he just woke up. Sweatpants riding scarily low on his hips, his chest bare, allowing me to rake my eyes over it. 

“Done checking me out pretty girl” he smiles down on me, catching me in the act. “Maybe, i'm not sure yet” i muttered back, my face heating with a slight embarrassment. “How'd you sleep?” I ask him, still looking up at him. “Good, really good. Would have been better if I woke up with you beside me” he says, looking down at me. 

“Sorry baby, I randomly woke up at like 5am. I didn't want to wake you up "I say feeling bad, for leaving him in the bed alone. 

“It's okay, you can make up for it now” he says as he begins to lean down, his lips meeting mine in a soft kiss. The angle makes it a little hard for me to fully kiss him, but I deal with it and push my body up further to meet his kiss. 

Our lips moved in sync for a few more seconds before Jack pulls away, resting his arms on the arm rest behind me, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath. 

“That's a better good morning greeting” Jack says as he's smiling, making his way to the other end of the couch, picking up the blanket that covers my feet and slides under it as he sits down. 

The simple movement probably means nothing to him, but it does to me, seeing him so at peace, and calm makes my heart warm. I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream when I hear Jack's voice.

“Has it been raining all morning?” he asks as he's looking out the window, the rain still hitting the window. 

“Yeah it's been raining since i've been out here” i say “it's very peaceful” he replies back softly. Turning his body back to face mine, “what time is it?” he asks, snuggling himself deeper into the blanket like a child, “9:30” i reply back. 

“Dang i slept in” Jack says with an airy laugh. I laugh softly in response, as I go to pick up my coffee mug to take a drink, to only find that its empty. 

“I'm going to go get more coffee, do you want a cup?” I asked him, raising my back from the couch to get up. 

“Yes please that sounds amazing, thank you pretty girl” he says, moving himself back to a sitting position on the couch. 

“Okay baby, I'll be back” I say as I fling the blanket off my body, not seeing Jack's widened eyes as I turn my back to him as I make my way to the kitchen. 

Making both of our cups of coffee I make my way back to the living room, I feel Jack's eyes on me instantly. 

“Here you go baby” I say, holding the hot cup out to him, “can you place it on the table for me?” he rasps out, as I go to place the mug on the table in front of us, I hear Jack speak again “set yours down too”. I look up at him confusingly as I set both cups down on the table. 

“Are you okay Jack?” I ask him, my eyes locked on his face. “Yeah i'm fine, can you come here please” 

I make my way closer to him, standing in front of the couch where he lays, Jack deciding that isn't close enough for him. He puts his hands on my hips pulling me into his lap. His hands moving to rest on my bare thigh. 

“What are you wearing?” he asks me, looking down at my body, i see nothing wrong with what i'm wearing. “Clothes?” i reply back timidly, still confused on why he's acting like this.

“Your not wearing pants” he says, tracing his hands under my shirt, circling his hands on my practically bare hips, causing my breath to hitch slightly. 

“You're walking around the house in a tiny thong, and a shirt that doesn't even cover your ass completely, and you expect me not to do anything” bringing his face to mine, close enough that I can feel his breath fanning on my face. I swallow before saying “what are you going to do about it?”

Before I know it, Jack smashes his lips to mine. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue quickly entering my mouth fighting and winning for dominance. My hands in his hair pulling him closer to me, wishing that there wasn’t a blanket separating us. 

I began to rock my hips into his to gain some type of friction, I can feel the dampness between my thighs beginning to grow. 

I pull my lips from his and begin to trail them down his neck, kissing and sucking little love bites in my wake, softly biting his ear as I make my way down. I hear Jack's breathing beginning to pick up, moaning lowly in my ear. 

Just as I'm about to trail my way back to his lips, he pushes me off of him. My back is now hitting the couch. I look up at him breathless, waiting for his next move. 

“I have to taste you pretty girl, I've been dying to do it all morning” Jack says, eyes locked with mine as he pushes the blanket of his body. Making his way between my legs spreading them apart as he rests in between them now. 

Tracing his hands up my bare thighs, his hands sliding under the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down slowly, while keeping his eye contact with me. Once my underwear are completely off me, he throws them somewhere behind him.

Jack begins to kiss up my thighs, alternating between each of my legs. My chest is rising quickly now, I need him to do something soon, the tension is starting to kill me. 

“Pretty pussy is so wet for me” he sighs as he slides his middle finger between my folds before pulling it back out, his finger glistening in front of him before sliding it into his mouth. 

Moaning at the taste, his eyes are on mine. This action alone causes me to moan down at him, shifting my hips closer to his face. 

“Tastes so sweet, pretty girl” he says as he guides his face back down to my pussy. “ I think I wanna have a taste now, is that alright with you, pretty girl?” his eyes searching mine for an answer. “Yes jack, please” I breathlessly say to him. 

Not even a second later, jack is diving into my pussy, his tongue finding my clit instantly. My hands fly into his hair grabbing something to hold on to while jack fucks me with his tongue. 

My moans are beginning to fill up the room, along with the sounds of jack slurping up my pussy, like a man who hasn't had a drink of water in days. 

Taking me by surprise Jack pushes 2 fingers into me, continuing to lap up my clit with his tongue. “Jack fuck” I moan out, pulling his hair even tighter between my fingers, the action causing jack to groan into me, sending chills up my body.

I began to push my hips to meet his tongue and fingers, beginning to feel the coil in my stomach heating up. 

Jack senses that i'm almost there, he thrusts his fingers into me, but curves them just enough so that he hits my g-spot. 

Causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head my body arching off the couch, my hips pushing themselves further into his grasp. 

“Right there fuck jack, please dont stop” I groan out. I reach under my shirt grabbing my right nipple between my hands squeezing it in between my fingers, as my other hand starts needing my left boob. 

“Fuck pretty girl, you look so hot from up there” my breath labors at the sound of jacks rough voice “does it feel good pretty girl?” “fuck, you feel so tight against my fingers, taking me so fucking good like a good girl” he says as he brings his thumb to my clit, rubbing and pinching it hard and fast. 

Incoherent things are falling from my lips at this point, the only thing I'm focused on is jack and the dam in my body that's about to break. 

Before I know it I'm cumming, hard and fast. My orgasm gives me no warning as it begins to wash over my body, hitting me like a tidal wave. 

My moans and “don’t stops” fill the living room, my grip on Jack's hair never loosening. Finally coming down from my high, I try to catch my breath, I open my eyes that make their way down to Jack who's looking at me with wide eyes, and a parted swollen mouth catching his breath. 

Making his way up to me, so that he's now directly on top of me, pushing himself up by his arms. “That was the hottest thing ive ever fucking seen.'' Jack says before capturing his lips with mine. 

Pulling back to look into his eyes, before something catches my attention. The cups of coffee on the table. “I think our coffee is cold,” I say, trying to hold back my laugh.

“I dont give a fuck about that coffee anymore” jack says as he laughs back at me, bringing his lips back to mine mumbling “how about we finish this in the bedroom?” before picking me up and dragging me to our bedroom. The coffee being long forgotten about. 

[hollowflight-propaganda]

hmmmm 🤔

Aged up Bumblebee for wof requests pretty please :)

So.... I went a little overboard, and just decided to draw how I envision the aged up kids for the hypothetical arc 4 in my head. No Peacemaker though, cause 1: I ran out of room, and 2: I have literally no ideas on what to do with him.

I also decided to include some headcanons about them under the cut (also some close-ups of the art above)

Dusky

. 6 years old, making him the oldest of the group (would also be the tallest if he didn't slouch all the damn time)

. He's doing a lot better now :) (dw, I'll traumatize him again later)

. He's still a pretty anxiety riddled guy the majority of the time, but not nearly as bad as he was in book 15

. Overall he's a really gentle soul and is very easy to get along with. He'd have an army's worth of friends if he wasn't terrified of talking to new people

Mink

. 5 years old, just a few months older than Cliff (to fix how her age didn't make any sense)

. Wears a TON of bracelets, which is because she enjoys making them

. Is the one friend that cares for her friends so much that she'll yell at them if they talk bad about themselves

. Is also the type of person to make sure everybody's taking care of themselves. I wouldn't call her the "mom friend," she's moreso the friend that very aggressively cares because she just has a lot of love inside of her

. (also maybe it stems from the trauma of watching her sickly mother get worse and worse until she died much too soon...)

Cliff

. 5, also is the tallest of the group

. The essence of his being is a cross between a himbo, a theater kid, and a bard

. HUGE mama's boy. He's the type of guy who will call his mom for an hour at least every other day (Auklet's jealous of their relationship)

. Has taken lessons for a few different types of instruments, but prefers bowed string instruments the most

. Is incredibly embarrassed by that one published anthem he made as a little kid and rewrote it at some point. Auklet, Mink, and later Bumblebee know this and will sing it at random to mess with him. Dusky's more merciful but he still finds it funny

Auklet

. 4 years old, shortest of the group (Cliff would probably use her head as an armrest if they weren't quadrupeds)

. Looks and is perpetually tired because her sleep schedule is shit

. She's a history nerd, and is especially interested in the history of animus magic

. She's also an enjoyer of conspiracy theories (again mostly with stuff about animus magic and the mystery of where it's gone)

. The interest in animus magic mostly stems from how it disappeared before she would've been tested for it, and the idea of how she could've had it but now she'll never know drives her kinda crazy

. Mommy Issues™ (which is to be expected when your mom is Coral. (I just want more characters in universe that hate Coral okay?))

. Has no real desire to be queen, and really hopes that someone else will take over the throne

. Doesn't wear as much jewelry as you'd expect from somebody in line for the throne, only having a few piercings on her fins

Bumblebee

. 4 with Auklet being about 9 months older than her, making her the youngest

. Her personality has become essentially what you'd get if you took Sundew's brashness and combined it with Cricket's eager nature

. She strikes me as being a bit of a jock as well. I don't know what kind of sports these dragons have, but I think she'd be good at them

. Her and Dusky have a sibling-esque relationship, it's a classic extrovert and introvert dynamic with them

Close-ups:

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Creating Trouble Part 1. ||Kidnaping Scenario

Being a human was a taboo in hell, all the words you never herd you herd, everything you never felt you felt, and it got you a lot of attention from the different residents.

TW- Trigger warning, Mentions of molestation, mild language.

You couldn't scream or utter a single cry of desperation. These demons were much stronger than you could ever imagine, your worst fear was just about to come true.

"Just spray that perfume or whatever boss gave, before the radio demon comes." One muffled voice ordered.

Then you blacked out before they tied you up in constraints.

Everyone had been going nuts about the new extermination dates which had been scheduled much earlier. Everyone was creating havoc in hell during that time,

You came across a page, when you were with Alastor one of those days there was some tension and beef between Alastor and the top face of Vee.

"Oh, that's nothing, my dear! Just a little resident here who thinks he owns all of hell." Alastor said with a big grin,

"Your voice is really nice you know? Can I have those old records of yours that you were going to broadcast but never did?"

"They are just drafts my dear, it's useless."

"If they are so useless, why did you keep them?"

"Maybe I should show it to you someday my dear, I think you'll quite enjoy them. Now go to sleep while I finish some business with some co-workers of mine." Alastor instructed you had a habit of always neglecting your bedtime and sleeping the whole day.

That particular incident flashed before you were woken up with someone kicking your leg and splashing some water.

"I really thought that was some messed up shit you know. You think Lucifer's brat would?"

"Miss Bleeding Heart would probably be dead by now if it isn't that stupid radio demon watching her back all the time."

"Oh, speaking of the radio demon, did the brat wake up already? She sleeps too much; I'll just give her to one of the cannibals."

You woke up but instantly flinched when someone tall, wearing heart-shaped glasses, and a pink coat, type of soul came in front of you.

"How cute." He said amused, "Hey how much money do you think the brat can make?"

"Oh, shut it, Valentino, I didn't ask my henchmen to kidnap her so you could strike some business deal or some shit like that."

"So, listen here bitch, everyone here is horny assholes and if you want to keep that body of yours in peace, you better suck it up and answer all my questions one by one."

"OH, Kinky!" Valentino squealed.

Your heart raced rapidly, it felt like your diaphragm couldn't relax anymore and your mind had gone blank with fear, you would think with those comedic looks they would be good for a few hearty laughs.

But All your friends and you knew they were rivals.

"So did Miss Bleeding Heart and your little boyfriend ever strike a deal or something?"

"M... Miss bleeding heart?" You softly called out,

"Yeah, Lucifer's brat."

"I.. I don't know." You simply said just to be met with a harsh slap, shocking you. "I'm only a human I don't interfere with these things!"

"So, you're telling me, the radio demon has not gone soft after meeting you?"

"How is my personal status of any relevance?" You questioned,

You lay unconscious down below, struggling to get up you took a look around your surroundings, it was dark but a little dim blue light from the TV alerted you; you were bruised, and it hurt to breathe, how did you even survive?

It looked like the corridors were locked, and you were just left discarded here, with your remaining strength you hurried to the T.V., and it was the same page when Vox and Alastor had that little tension.

Could you reach anyone from here?

Judging by your injuries you must have been out at least for two to three days.

Back in the hotel.

It was Husk who noticed that you were literally not anywhere in the hotel, it further confirmed his suspicions, when Sir Pentious and Niffty asked about you, "Where did the goody two shoes go? She's acting like a bad girl!" Niffty huffed.

Everyone had been in a panic, at last when Alastor came back from one of his trips, he would always usually bring you a little trinket or something,

"My dear, sorry I got so caught up--" He realized you were not there.

Two days had passed when no news of your disappearance was updated, but it was getting busy as hell in the hotel and it angered Alastor when he was told to do something that didn't involve tracking you.

One day when Valentino had enough of your refusal he declared, He would ravage you if you didn't open your mouth.

Vox didn't want the entire image to get threatened by the media.

"So how are you, Alastor? Saw the sudden stop with your regular updates."

"Well, you see I'm in a bit of a dilemma myself, a dear friend of mine has been missing."

"Friend?' Vox laughed, "I thought it was more of a plaything?"

He pushed your tired form to the counter, as you barely managed to stabilize yourself.

It was Valentino who grabbed your collar and made you look at Alastor,

Alastor's eyes darkened, a threatening aura had befallen him, which made you nervous. Even if none of the anger was directed towards you.

When he left the remaining support you fell down again, "Exceedingly weak!" Valentino urged, kicking your frail body.

Charlie burst into tears, and Angel instantly bombarded the two with questions, "Did you piece of shi--"

"Anymore and she'll be of good use to me." Valentino warned.

Before the screen was shut.

"That was good don't you think?"

"Now we have to be wary of that Radio demon."

"I'll fucking kill them." Alastor's eyes widened when he recalled your body being manhandled, and thrown with such disregard,

He grew into his demonic form the more he thought about it the more, sadistic the punishments he concocted in his head grew.

"You worry about not letting the hotel fall into shambles, I'll make the Vee wish I'd stay gone."

[amethystfairy1]

It's been a few hours and I'm still feeling mildly crazy

I kind of want to reread everything right now but my sleep schedule wouldn't like that so...

Anyways, I cannot get "Seven Years Running" and the before- and aftermath out of my head

Practical questions before rants though: how would Gem be affected if she were to run out of magic strength? I assume it wouldn't be as bad as Scar has it seeing as he was basically incapable of supporting his own weight and staying concious?

Also, roughly how long will it take to get to the spirit well? (I think that's what it's called... the thing in Elven Territory where elves can recharge) Because right now I'd say Scar needs to get there asap but also it's still a ways away from Silversvale if my mental map is right, and they haven't even reached that yet

But yeah to the rant I'm kind of insane about the entire thing, but that part (Seven Years Running) specifically just gets to me

Especially the fact that everything went wrong just like that. Like, we killed the Duke, were comforting the birb, everything was fine and dandy, and then it was like helplessly watching a series of ever-larger dominoes knock the next over until it culminated in that "Not you" and my heart broke

It felt a bit better after realising that, for Grian, this was amazing actually! Setting a boundary firmly, especially after the *gestures vaguely* everything, and not backsliding is such a good sight

I mean the "killing the Duke" part was amazing. "On the other side of the storm" is so well written, and so satisfying and I think there's two (metal) images that just- they just do it for me, y'know? I think they'll stick with me a while. First one is of Mumbo, bathed in shadows, casually pursuing Freemere without batting an eye (the shadows 'weeping' across the outer wall- like, how?? What?? That's so. Good.)

The second is Scar-as seen from outside the Swaggon (Swagon?)- holding Grian so gently, seeing Mumbo hesitate and glance up at him because he doesn't want to let his instincts take over, and then just... raising a hand to summon his magic and bury the duke alive

Like- it's so vivid and it's beautiful

Also probably one of the reasons I love Scar so much (what is it with me and guilty characters?? TTSBC Scott's my favourite and TT it's Scar and Martyn) (tbf they only overtake the others by a tiny amount) (but it's an interesting pattern)

Speaking of guilt... man, I'm so glad I didn't have to wait for that whole mess to get at least somewhat sorted (they're getting there, I believe) because I would've cried (even more)

It's so miserable because the more povs came up, the sadder it got... Mumbo was so confused and then upset, Gem was just confused and concerned in general, Pearl was going through a hell of a lot of emotions, Grian... Grian was going through that but in two different directions, and Scar was so out of it that he genuinely didn't even notice and then the ball dropped and- yeah. It was rough

I mean the fact that you managed to juggle around so many issues and viewpoints and still have it make sense is a crazy feat!! Super impressive

There's the rant- second one of the day, sorry about that lmao

At least this one's coherent

I LOOOOOOVE THIS KIND OF STUFF!

GIMME GIMME GIMME!

I love seeing people give me their play-by-plays of reading through my works, especially one of my favorites like Seven Years Running is! Thank you so much for this! I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much!!! Please don't apologize, I LOVE this sort of thing! Send more if ever you feel like it, they're soooo much fun!

(Edit: I just realized I didn't answer the questions I just got excited about the fun rants 😭 You're correct! Gem wouldn't be affected as badly as Scar if she ran out of magical strength, she would operate like a human in that case. She's also worked on her swordsmanship and strength to the point that she can still be very deadly even without the use of her magic! How long would it take to get to the Elven Spirit Well? That's spoilers my friend...but I will say it's not geographically super far, it's right inside the Elven Territory past the mountains!)

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .o8

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, some light teasing, more tutoring sessions, and Sukuna punches a pervert!

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.125k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n:: I've felt mentally drained so I'm going to finish this dang chapter holy frick did this take so long :D

. . .

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy! ❤️

. . .

Sleep didn't come easy to you, and it was expected. Seeing Sukuna in his vulnerable state, having him confirm a small doubt in your mind, and having Shoko spur on your aching heart.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but you needed to force it. You can't force someone to love you back.

Sukuna had his reasons, and it didn’t concern you in the slightest. You told yourself that as much as possible when you felt the need to say something to him after lessons and classes, or do simple things like ask about his day. When you wanted to ask, you bit your tongue and stayed silent. Sticking to the normal day to day chit chat between classmates.

Don’t bug him more than you already do. You say to yourself as you lift your fist up and knock on the door a few times.

There was a quiet "enter" from his side of the door, and when you did as told you didn't see Sukuna in the living room or kitchen like normal.

"Sukuna?" You asked, confusion filling your brain. You continued to wander around the dorm until Sukuna's bedroom door opened up, revealing a disheveled man.

His hair a mess, t-shirt lopsided and somewhat dirty, and boxers on full display. You quickly averted your eyes, trying to save Sukuna his dignity. "Hello to you too."

He waved before heading into his bedroom to change and look cleaner. Moving yourself to your usual space on the couch, you pulled out your things and started flipping through a notebook.

There was almost no noise, besides the random grunts of Sukuna shuffling through his things. Even your thoughts going quiet and jumbled with the notes in your book. Writing things down and not noting the shadow being cast over you by Sukuna.

"Hey, what're you working so hard on?" His voice broke your train of thought, making you look up at him.

"Uhm, tutoring?" You responded, a questioning tone in your voice. "Why?"

Sukuna sighed, resting his cheek against his fist, maroon eyes scanning your figure. "Don't you wanna have fun instead?"

The question catches you off guard and you chuckle, patting his knee in an almost loving manner. "I don't think you should have fun until you get better grades."

"God, you sound like my mother!"

You crinkle your nose as Sukuna's rather modest laughter fills the air. It had been a while since you saw a smile.

With a sigh, you straightened your posture and started to the session, seeing Sukuna's eyes begin to glaze over in a bored pout. You didn't like doing much studying either, but keeping your grades up mattered to you.

Sukuna knew this, watching you diligently work with him to help. So determined..

——

"..How are your parents?" He asked, his eyes lazily looking towards you.

It had been an hour since the tutoring had started that day, and Sukuna's mind was elsewhere. It was dull, the schedule he has wrapped himself into. It was the same thing everyday, seeing the hundreds of students around campus and ending up stuck in his dorm with you.

Talking about equations and random stuff he was already familiar with became tedious. Even though he was willing just to see you.

Never say that out loud though.

"Oh, they're fine," You answered, a slightly confused look on your face as you tapped the cap of your red pen on the notebook.

Sukuna raised a brow, scooting himself closer into your space, a small smile on his face. "That's not specific enough. I wanna know how they're doing."

I just told you– "Well, my dad's working on some project for the house apparently. He wanted to make a garden for it."

"Your dad's still the plant guy, huh?"

You pout your lips as Sukuna's curled into a smirk. "Not always. He got into sports cars for some reason, even though he's a planet health guy."

Sukuna chuckles at this before starting to write a few things down in his notebook. You grumble with a slightly warm flush filling your cheeks. Either way, you couldn't really complain much, his smirk made you feel warm inside.

"Are you done with the questions I gave you?" You asked, leaning your head over and bumping your cheek against Sukuna's shoulder.

"Yeah, the last one stumps me though.."

After teasing him for a few moments about his blunders and getting side eyed for the next twenty minutes, you eventually were able to explain the problem before Sukuna pointing out how late it had gotten.

"I could order a pizza and you just sleep over again." He said as he put away his things, placing a hand on his hip. "It'd be best, this dorm is filled with shit drunk guys."

"Aw, you're so sweet," You responded, lifting your bag over your shoulder strap while hiding all the giddy cuteness inside you. "But it's just a five minute walk to my place. I'll be fine!"

There was a hostile look of discontent in his maroon eyes that read: How dare you say no to me?

A confused shiver was sent down your spine before you sighed and pat Sukuna's arm, heading towards the door. "I'll text you when I get home, promise."

Letting out a small grunt, Sukuna eventually caved and you went home. Although he did threaten that he'll give you a stern talking to if he didn't get a text.

He's got more layers than an onion.*

Though, as you made your way home, you bumped into someone. His hair was messy, sunglasses barely hanging onto his head with his hair pushed back, and pants dirtier than your crustiest sock. But his pink cheeks and glossy eyes didn't betray you in recognizing one of your weirdest friends to date.

"Satoru? What are you doing out?" You place a hand on the males exposed forehead and humming to yourself. "..Are you high, drunk, or sick?"

With a delayed reaction, a hiccup, and a pout, you got this. "My girl, you're judgy so muchy~ Let me life without demands!"

You raise a brow and scoff. I know he'll regret this drinking in the future.

"Fine, but I have to go home now," You say, patting the disheveled mans shoulder, a smile on your face. "Don't trip walking up those stairs!"

But as you said goodbye, Gojo leaned in and placed a soft peck on your cheek with surprising accuracy. You blink in confusion as Gojo smiles loosely and pets your head. "Don't hurt yourself either, Miss best friend chaser!"

Before words could process, or a thought was able to work the cogs in your headspace, there was a grunt and a very big "someone's jaw might have gotten broken" sound.

. . .

a/n: hope you guys have been doing well! srry i haven't posted in almost two months maybe really, so many things came up. I was worried about mental health for a while, wasn't feeling motivated to write much but then smthing else happened. Huge changes are happening so we might end up with another writer's drought lmao (I'm going to college soon and do adult things ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙;;;)

*and if u didnt get the reference I'll scream*

Chapter Song Theme:

— Ariana Grande - God is a woman (Lyric Video)

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @instantgalaxysheep, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us, @gumis-girl, @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-n-l0ve, @jiordeci

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[sigmasoyboy]

hi!! ive been in and out of this whole AU/ different series for a cool minute actually, as a black American i would love to hear more Lesley, im absolutely obsessed. also with Agon and Jasper!! my favorite three peeps honestly, if theres any more spare info or stories plz drop🙏🏾. (also i love the writing for Coeus's "bad sex experience" all in all your honestly my favorite person😭) MUCH LOVE STAY SAFE🩷🩷🩷🥰

hihi you are too cute, I can spare a few facts about these three just for you anon ( ⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

Lesley:

- while not an avid gamer per se, Lesley does play a few games, notably Daggerfall. Wallace ends up watching him play it when Elov is in the hospital; since it's honestly pretty much a novel you can play, he actually gets pretty invested in it, asking all sort of questions about the lore he didn't see. Lesley also enjoys having someone to watch him even if it's hard to tell from the outside.

- most of what he grows are regular vegetables (potatoes, kale, carrots, onions, turnips, brussell sprouts, rhubarb, mostly hardy crops that resist the Scottish weather) and fruits from the small orchard his grandparent planted (apples, pears and damsons), but tucked away in the garden shed he actually has a couple cannabis plants he grew after his grandparents died. It's mostly for himself, though he has smoked with victims in the past.

he sometimes goes foraging for berries or mushrrom when the season is there, taking the dog with him for an extra long walk. He used to do that with his grandparents.

- since he works nights at the fish processing plant he has a bit of an inverted sleep schedule, though he doesn't sleep for very long in total (usually around 4-5 hours with a few naps peppered throughout the day). He works from 10 pm to 5:30 am, goes home, walks the dog, feed the animals and has breakfast, tend to the garden until about 11 am where he'll take a nap until lunch time after walking the dog again, then his afternoon is a mix between chores, being on the computer and taking care of the animals. At around 4 pm he goes to sleep until 9 ish, where he'll eat and get ready for work. This routine is rarely disturbed.

- he often works week-ends and holidays since he doesn't really care/celebrate anymore.

- most of his kills are done during his days off so sometimes he gets to spend them with someone else, but usually he uses the extra time to play some games, forage, harvest crops or make preserves/chutney/pickles/etc…

Egon & Jasper:

- when they were sleeping in the streets, they would share a sleeping bag, which was great for extra warmth but a hassle before Egon's incontinence issues were resolved. This might be why they formed an habit of sleeping so close together.

- they kiss with a lot of tongue since Jasper has close to no sensations on his lips anymore. Egon enjoys the sloppy mess they create together.

- Egon calls Jasper ugly a lot, but there's always love in his mockery. He's not just an ugly guy, he's his ugly guy. In his words, they're freaks, but there's a sense of belonging with each other in the word.

- they lived in a few different communal squats in the past but community living isn't that compatible with Egon's difficult temper, so they found and claimed their own little abandoned place to call home. They even got a power generator in there so they have the luxury of electricity babyyy

- they share clothes, even though they have a few pieces they tend to gravitate towards more than the others. Jasper is not very fashion conscious as long as it doesn't draw too much attention to him, Egon has his own personal sense of style but he doesn't care about brands. Most of what they own come from either shoplifting or thrift shops.

- speaking of shoplifting, they do it less now (mostly Jasper, Egon is more prone to still doing it), but they still regularly dumpster dive behind supermarkets (which is illegal in Germany). That's how they do most of their groceries so they tend to eat a lot of different stuff since they can't shop around. When they get a pretty good haul, they often will share with the folks who still live in the streets. When he comes home late from his job Jasper will also ask around for unsold products at bakeries and such, which usually does net him something to bring home.

- they still use a cheap gym membership to get access to a shower, except now they will also use the equipment from time to time, which is a great way for Egon to spend his extra energy. At home, they collect rainwater to be able to flush the toilet and do basic things like wash their face, shave, and brush their teeth. All in all, they are managing pretty well.

[authorjoeypaul]

THE TRIALS OF A CRIME WRITER: A BREAK ISN'T BAD I've always been a big proponent for breaks. I've talked about it a whole ton on my AuthorTube channel, and I've talked about it here too. Sometimes everyone needs a break, and it's not a bad thing, it's not a reflection on you as a writer or the like, you're human, you need time to rest. I will admit that while being a big advocate for breaks, I wasn't always good at taking them myself. The thing where you can give the advice, but just don't know how to apply it to your own life. That said, I have gotten better at it in recent years. I now have at least two days off completely every month, and with the fact that I only work in the wee hours, it allows me to have a lot of downtime during the regular day to catch up with sleep and rest and books. It means that while I will work a lot during the month, I don't do too much, and I make sure that I have time to get my work done and still have a chance to rest. Some of that is because of being chronically ill and disabled. Some of it is just my sleep schedule is messed up. Some of it is about having that healthy work/life balance, and some of it is just where the chips fall. I didn't ever set out to work in the wee hours, but my body just decided that wake up time was between 1am and 4am, and that's just the way it happens. But I've also taken a break from drafting. I sat down the year I turned 40 and realised that I would finish my 40th draft in that year. I worked it out and then realised that if I kept going at the speed I was, I would have finished 80 drafts by the time I turned 50, and that terrified me. Like right now I could not draft until 2038 and I would still have books ready to revise and publish. I don't wanna leave stories untold, but I also don't want to get to a point where it would be physically impossible for me to publish the books that I've already spent time and energy on. So I took a break, and started working on revising and rewriting older drafts that might have needed a little extra time to get into shape, and so far? I'm loving it. I only vaguely remembered the stories, and when I went back to reread them, I was anxious about how bad off they'd be, and while there are plot holes and pieces that needed to be changed and rewritten, they are, mostly, solid stories. It allowed me to get a new perspective on my writing, on the stories I've told and the stories I will tell in the future. While yes, I have been hit with new story ideas, and yes I do have plans to eventually go back to drafting, I would, first, like to get to the point where I have a few more of my older projects somewhat revised and ready to eventually go to the editor. It would allow me to spend more time on upcoming projects that need input from sensitivity readers and the like and still manage to hit my own deadlines when it comes to them going to the dev editor and the like. So while I didn't know what lay ahead for me when I made that decision to take a break two years ago, I'm so freaking glad I did. It's allowed me to fall in love again with stories I'd previously told, and also work things out so that the whole process makes things easier for me in the long run. Taking that break, or this break since it's still ongoing, has allowed me to really branch out and see what needs to be done, and doing it, rather than worrying about it instead. So yes, breaks aren't bad, in whatever form they take! Any questions? Lemme know in the comments!

Follow Joey to be kept up to date with the latest news regarding Joey and her books.  

[that-kenlee-guy]

Since yall liked these teasers so much, here's another one. Freemind Barney talking to Barney. Art by @portalpilled

“So…if you come from such a bad background, why do you hang out with that Gordon? He’s been nothing but a stuck-up asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone.” he asked next. His other self giggled before smiling brightly again. This time, his eyes were illuminated, like he was seeing the greatest beauty of life right before him. “It’s true, when I first met Gordon, I was just starting working at Black Mesa. Actually, this is still my first year, next month starts my second. Anyways, this was a little over few months ago before he got those lame shaded lens-”

“(Wow, it got flipped here?)”

“He was a jerk, I was stationed in his sector and he basically bossed a lot of us around. A lot of us left him, I didn’t. I asked some questions about his work and he explained it...alongside some insults. But what changed our dynamics was I would help with his daily reminders. Eating, sleeping, schedules. It was cute to see him get flustered when he forgot to do those and I just…noticed he just liked sticking around me...but-” “But?”

“I got word my dad took his life and left a note saying it was all my fault, it really messed me up and Gordon didn’t make it any better. He told me to stop whining and just listen to what he had to say, I...snapped. I lashed out on him, telling him his bossy demeanor was annoying and he could fuck off and die alone if he was so much better than everyone-”

“Ouch.”

“I stormed off and requested a few days off, I just wanted to be alone. I was even thinking about requesting a different sector to be in because I knew Gordon was going to make things worse since he didn’t care about me. On my third night, I got hungry and it was pretty late. I wanted to rush out and get something, but I tripped.

I looked and I saw it was Gordon, he was covered in stains from food, snacks and a blanket was beside him. He slept outside my door, he was waiting for me and I never even told him what dorm I was even in. He woke up and tried to play it cool, it was kinda funny. But he went back to saying mean things again and told me I need to get back to work. I didn't say a word, I just went back inside and closed the door.” “What a genius.” “He knocked and knocked, but I ignored it. I didn’t need him right now, he was making my head worse. But…the eyepatch bastard never went away. He just sleeps outside, tries to bark at me, I ignore him and go back to my room as he knocks for hours again. Then when my days were up, I ignored him at work too. Didn’t say a word, didn’t eat with him, nothing. But one day, the day I was coming to a decision on transferring,  I got a knock on my door. It was my off day and he was here. I got upset and I didn’t want my day off ruined. So…I opened up the door to a dirty and stressed out Gordon. And before I said a word, the unthinkable happened…he apologized. He actually admitted he was wrong for bossing me so much and I was the only real friend he has. He told me his background and then hugged me. Then he threatened to murder me if I told anyone. The point is, I have my reason to trust my Gordon and stay around him. I understand if you don’t like him cause that’s honestly his fault, but he is a nice person…just picky to whom due to his past.” he finished. 

Barney stares before looking down, it’s like what his dad told him when he was little. We can’t be quick to judge people, some of their behavior is justified. He may not know the reason for Gordon's annoying behavior, but if his other self is trusting him, then he’ll take his word for it.

[starker-raving-mads]

For You: Part VII

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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To say that the next week was hectic was to put it lightly. Peter didn't surface from the lab for anything - Not Aunt May (and her terrible lasagna that Peter loved so dearly), not Ned and MJ, not even for Bucky, who had taken to texting Peter fairly regularly with things like lunch requests or questions about pop culture.

(The man was, hilariously, Steve's opposite in that regard. He still didn't remember much of his time on ice, but he reveled in all of modern technology instead of simply trying to deal with it, which was Steve's approach. He and Peter had partaken in more than one text conversation that ended after 2 hours with, 'Steve's taking my phone because he says I'm becoming a zombie staring at the screen. I think he's just jealous because he doesn't understand modern…anything, really. I think he might be a himbo. Am I using that word right?')

No, Peter instead spent that time with Tony, having the longest, craziest, most wonderful lab binge of his life. His sleep schedule was royally messed up because of it, taking to just falling asleep at his desk or on the couch instead of going back up to the penthouse. He only got a few hours at a time like that anyway and it just didn't seem worth it to put an official pause on their work.

What was their work? Integrating Tony into everything.

He was already fully incorporated into the lab, that was easy enough after the confirmation of the program's success. But they made small tweaks to improve his core functioning systems, defined a few things, and Tony went from almost being Tony Stark to really being Tony Stark. The first day or two, the man had stilled unnaturally in a way that Tony just never had. He'd also not remember certain things, important things, until reminded of them.

"I have a daughter?" he'd asked, overwhelmed awe spread across his face. "I have a daughter!" He looked at Peter then, that same unfamiliar softness in his eyes. "I made you her godfather! Isn't Morgan just amazing?"

"Sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter grimaced at the perplexity on the other man's face. "Since Ms. Potts has been kind of…upset about the whole SI thing, I haven't been allowed to see her." And he'd tried, he really had. He wanted to know the little girl that was half Tony, who was his family in all but blood. But Pepper had responded to every request with a resounding 'no' and she was Morgan's mom, so she got the final say.

Tony had a look of determination on his face at that. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

But all those little issues had been flushed out in the first few days, and now they were working on incorporating his program into everything. Peter already wired him into the Spider-Man suit, tapped him into the tower's network architecture, and into the smart glasses the man had pointed out to him that were, apparently, never finished in the face of the Peter Project.

EDITH, he had called it, but based on all the features she had, Peter was mostly positive it was better that project was never finished. Peter kept the glasses, though, body having an all over shiver the first time he heard Mr. Stark's voice directly in his ear.

Now, they were putting the finishing touches on getting Tony wired into the penthouse, which had its own individual network infrastructure and security protocols. Having Friday helped with a lot of the grunt work, but there were some fine tuning things that Peter had to do to wrap it up.

"There!" he said, leaning back on his haunches as he slid the discreet panel back over the hidden network rack in the living room (carefully hidden behind tall, leafy vegetation he was vaguely sure was called a monster plant). "Okay, Fri-baby, fire it up, let him in."

"Are you sure, Mom?" Friday said, voice warm with humor. "Shouldn't guests knock first?"

"Your father is not a guest, dear," he joked back with her, loving the rapid way she grew with him. He was weirdly proud of her, seeing all these changes in behavior and temperament.

"If you say so."

And then - Tony.

Adding the holographic projection system was another touch Peter had to manually install, like with a drill and everything. It was absolutely worth the time spent crawling around on the ceiling when the man bloomed to life in front of him, craning his neck around to check out the apartment.

"Man, I forgot how bland this place was," he said, eyeing the all-white leather couch and black slate flooring of the sunken living room.

"Bland?" Peter asked, aghast. "This place is great!"

Tony gave him a look. "Kid, I know your taste runs to the science pun t-shirt side of the spectrum, but all black and white isn't exactly that much of a step up from beige."

Peter flushed. "I mean, it's simple but it's nice! And why did you even pick it if you didn't like it?"

"Oh," the older man responded, casually walking around the space. "I didn't. Hired some expensive decorator and told them to go crazy with it." He shrugged. "The lab was always my space, so I didn't really give a damn went on up here as much. Pep was the one to put the art and stuff up - which I see she took."

"Yeah, it was gone by the time I got up here, but not much else thankfully. And I guess that makes sense. The lab just…feels like you, Mr. Stark."

Tony gave him another look. "Kid, you've gotta start calling me Tony. It's cute when you say it, but since I'm essentially a ghost, I think we're past the point of titles."

"I mean," Peter said, struggling not to let all the blood in his body rush to his face at how enflamed he felt at Mr. Stark calling him cute. "If I'm only cute when I say it, I guess I have to keep it up, right, Mr. Stark?" He was falling far short of the playful retort he was going for, mostly because there was too much sincerity in the words.

"Pete, you're cute with or without the 'Mr. Stark' schtick," Tony chuckled casually, as though he wasn't uprooting Peter's entire existence right now.

"O-oh, okay." This was one of those things that made Tony differ from Mr. Stark and Peter had to say, he appreciated it. The openness and honesty, the lack of barrier he could always feel was there before. He wondered how much of it was anxiety and part of the physical pretense of being Tony Stark that made him that way, that he lacked now. Whatever it was, Peter liked it. "So, Tony."

"That's my name, kid," he winked, "don't wear it out."

Peter rolled his eyes. This was the Tony he was used to.

"But seriously," Tony continued, picking their previous conversation back up. "You should redo this place, liven it up a little! Some paint, new furniture, yada yada," he waved a hand around the room. "I've seen your bedroom, not to mention the apartment you shared with May - eclectic is in, and now you've got all the money in the world to make your space your own."

"I hadn't really thought about it like that," Peter said, walking over to where Tony's glowing blue form was. "It just - it feels so weird to change things in your house, you know?"

"Peter, and I say this sincerely," Tony said and yes his tone was playful but sincere nonetheless. "I never cared about how this place looked, it was a matter of convenience. It was a bed and a kitchen and a respectable place to have people over but that's about it. And it's your house now."

Peter furrowed his brow. "But the media center and the blankets and pillows - ?"

"Yeaaaaah," the man dragged out and turned to look over at the TV set up in question. "I may or may not have bought that after you mentioned wanting to binge Star Wars with me when you'd realized I hadn't seen all of them." He shrugged but the casual gesture was ruined by the side-eyed sincerity.

"You bought," Peter started, "an entire TV set up, surround sound, and game console just to watch TV with me?"

"Sure," the man shrugged again and Peter knew for a fact that his whole casual-whatever he was doing was put upon, but he didn't know how to call it out - or if he even wanted to.

What do you say when someone spends a few thousand grand on something because you mentioned it offhand in one conversation?

"Listen, kid," Tony sighed, looking over at him finally. "I told you I was too much and this is what I meant. I do - too much. Extravagant gifts and shit like," he waved his hand at the media center wall, "whole media center set ups and custom blankets without asking." He shrugged, and it was probably the first time Peter had ever seen the man truly awkward, for all that he fidgeted normally. "People've been telling me that my whole life but I just can't ever seem to break the habit." He sounded truly apologetic and that was the moment that Peter snapped.

"Stop," he said, voice firm, face rigid. Tony looked at him, chagrined, like a kid being told off after putting his hand in the cookie jar. "There is nothing wrong with you," Peter continued and watched as the man's glowing blue face snapped up at him in surprise. "Your love language is just gift giving, is all," he explained. "You show people you care by giving them things and I bet it's always things like this," he waved toward the media center. "Things they've mentioned or things you know they'll need or care about. Right?" Tony nodded, eyes wide behind his square framed glasses. "Then, there you go," he said, running out of the confident steam he'd been using for his little mini-rant. "You just want to give people you care about things to make their lives better or things they want or way to enjoy themselves better. There's nothing wrong with that. Sure, it can feel like a little much sometimes due to the expense of such things but at the same time - it's your money, you can afford it, so why not?"

The look on Tony's face clearly said that no one had spelled it out like that before and that he wasn't totally sure if he believed Peter.

Peter smiled, a little sadly. "Tony, if I had thought you were giving me things to make me in debt to you or buy my loyalty or something, I'd have turned them down. But it's obvious you don't, and why would I try and hurt you by being a dick about it?"

Tony cleared his throat. "I gotta say, kid, you're like the first person to not give a damn about it. It's always either people after my money, or people who think I'm trying to buy them with it. It's…refreshing."

"I mean," Peter said while he walked over to the large, squishy chaise side of the couch he liked. "It's not like I don't think about it? It's just - like I didn't grow up with a lot of money, right? And neither did my friends. And so when Ned or someone went out of their way to get me something it really meant a lot. And while you have the ability to probably buy a small country - " Tony laughed, " - that doesn't negate the fact that you put thought and energy into it just like anyone else would."

Tony sat down on the other side of the couch from him, their usual seats, and the normalcy of the action soothed Peter. He was starting to look past the faint blue glow of the other man and just see Tony.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, looking over at him. "I mean that."

"I know you do," Peter smiled softly. He curled in on himself, snuggling into the cushions, wishing he had his movie blanket.

Tony's mind seemed to go the same direction. "Where's that blanket of yours?" he asked, craning his neck to look at the space where the basket of blankets and spare pillows for the living room used to be.

Peter sighed. "It was one of the things Ms. Potts took," he shrugged. "I haven't gotten around to replacing it yet."

The older man frowned. "You should have Friday do it," he finally said. "I didn't buy it, I crafted it out of the same textile I used to make Steve's stuff with." At Peter's look, he explained, "Capcicle has a similar texture issue that you do, senses cranked up a little under yours. Your first Spider-Man suit was made out of an off-shoot of the formula, but the base is perfect for blankets and things." He furrowed his brow, looking away, thinking. "Pepper knew that," he muttered to himself. "Fri? Get on that, will you?"

"You got it, Boss."

"Maybe she had them grab it by accident when she sent people up to get the artwork and stuff?" Peter pondered.

"Yeah, maybe," Tony agreed though he didn't sound convinced. "How about," he said instead of whatever seemed to be on his mind, "you go grab a blanket from somewhere and we watch something. You wouldn't believe how fast my brain runs now," he chuckled. "And I don't really sleep anymore, so being online and zoning out a little would be nice."

Peter smiled and agreed, stopping at the kitchen to pop a bag of microwave popcorn in before heading down the hallway. He paused by his room first before ultimately going to Tony's and grabbing the bundled up comforter. It was just so much softer than the one in the guest room, and it still faintly smelled like the other man. That wasn't too weird right?

Pushing back the anxiety in him that screamed, 'uh yeah it's weird he's going to call you out on it,' Peter walked back out to the living room and dumped it onto the couch. He tried to be casual about it, twisting on his heel to grab the popcorn and pour it into a bowl before coming back to the living room and snuggling down into the blanket.

He tried not to pay attention to the long, long look Tony gave him when the teen asked, "Anything you're in the mood for?"

After a moment, the older man said, "Fuck it, let's watch Star Wars again."

[dawns-laboratory]

Been a mix of "7 Days to Die" and "Palworld" together with dad, or "Astroneer" with a friend (Hi, I know you'll see this, we have to continue that someday soon when I have energy)

And then I've been playing "My Time at Sandrock" quite obsessively the last few days. Both because I want the story, but also because I just find the character interaction soothing. Also because I want to get through the story so me and the same friend can play multiplayer together. ...Mostly because I want the story, since Multiplayer doesn't have it in the same manner.

I'm just going to ramble below the cut, but TL;DR:

I'm okay, just low on energy. Likely not eating well enough and sleeping schedule is a mess because of stress.

So this will be a bit about me just gushing, and also just my thoughts and feelings. It's more me wanting to talk to the void, even if I get no reply. It's soothing in its own right.

I won't go on too long about this specifically, but I believe I mentioned having broken up earlier this year. Specifically my previous relationship ended early December 2023.

I still don't feel okay from that, my self-esteem is... Not doing well. If anything I feel a bit scared of entering a relationship in the future because of how hurt I feel, and especially because I have such a strong sense of "I am not good enough". So some days are harder than others, but I'll be okay.

But I've kinda realised now that I have... Not really gushed over characters as much. Not really allowed myself to feel much regarding those, felt guilty almost. So Sandrock has been soothing, as I've allowed myself to bit by bit just sqee on the inside because the interactions are adorable.

...Also me having felt guilty to have to turn down a confession from one of the NPCs, like damn did that hurt- But the NPC I wanted to meet hadn't appeared yet and I didn't know who I wanted to go for. I'd say I'd have to do another playthrough and go for the other character, but at the same time........ I'm very stuck on the character I'm with. An odd sense of safety that I once used to have, it's nostalgic. Soothing, even. If I can find that again in a person irl, I'd be happy.

But currently I'm happy as is with my plan to just adopt a lot of cats when I get a better living situation. Become the crazy cat lady. Frankly- I'd probably be happy just living with cats if anything. I'm okay with that future, it's a good one.

And that's me being genuine because I can't see a better future than having a bunch of cats to cuddle with like come on

Cat person, through n through lmao

...Maybe I can get a cat to call Galby after the antagonist of the Eragon books called Galbatorix- Hmmmm.