#nothing concrete here im afraid

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Okay but has there ever been an official artist who actually made Xavier and Erik gay or scorned lovers. Not “heavily implied.” Not fans making stuff up for fun. Actually gay shit. Please say yes 😫

if there was ever anything like that done in canon then im sure my feed would be flooded with it every other week but if you want Concrete Actual Unequivocal No Denying Cherik Gay Love then no marvel has not done it

[iinterstellaarr]

part two of this!

it had been a long time since you had last seen suguru geto.

the last night you saw him was shrouded in snow and a freezing air that bit at your skin. at least that’s how you remembered it now. satoru was devastated by the sudden loss of his best friend although he hid it well, just like how he hid everything else in his life.

sugurus disappearance was abrupt, following a mass killing that was confirmed to have been committed by him. you had called him a dozen times and texted him even more hoping to see him one last time before he was officially torn from your life. you cried heavily the night you saw your texts turn blue to green.

“shit..” you stepped out of the convenience store with your head hung low. they were continuously out of your favorite drink and it started to make you lose hope in the small store by your childhood home.

the heat from the day was slowly melting into a more forgiving night breeze as you stepped down the street you had called home all those years ago. the concrete made small pattering noises under your feet as you stop abruptly near the park you had last seen suguru.

one swing had been torn off its chain, hanging pathetically in the night air. a small hole was dug a few feet deep by the uprooted wood chips near the corner and it made you sigh.

you timidly sat on the swing you always did, cracking open the small beer can as you did so. the swing sighed under your weight and creaked as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly.

the beer was bitter, the taste lingering long after you had swallowed. you didn’t even like beer, it was just a habit now. one you had picked up after over the past few years, a small crutch to help with the hole that kept growing in your heart.

you threw the now empty can under the broken swing, the one where suguru sat. the one where you and him would talk about the future like it had endless possibilities. but that was before everything changed.

a chill ran down your spine. one filled with a sudden sense of dread as the wind picked up its pace. you flipped your head around, half expecting to see nothing but off in the distance, standing by the run down play set was a silhouette you could not mistake.

his hair was longer now, reaching just past his hips but tied up in the front, the curtain now pulled up and away. his eyes hadn’t reached you yet but they still held the sadness they once did. wherever suguru had went had not healed him. it only made him worse. his hand timidly ran across the cold metal and he seemed almost regretful.

“no..” your voice was barely above a whisper but sugurus head snapped towards the pathetic call.

after nearly 10 years of radio silence, he was standing in front of you.

“that can’t be you.” your voice grew, hoping that if you spoke loud enough the hallucinations would go away, but his image never faulted.

he was actually here.

his expression was unreadable, just as it always had been for you. he didn’t speak right away, the air between you two tight with words left unsaid. for a brief second, it felt like the entire world was holding its breath.

“you look like you’ve been waiting for me.” his words had a sort of bittersweet amusement to them. they weren’t accusatory or cocky. he sounded understanding, as if he understood the pain he put you through even if he wasn’t there to witness it.

“i called you.” you replied, voice cracking as the knot in your throat pulled tighter.

“i know. twenty times if im remembering correctly.” he was. there wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t remember the night he left.

he took a careful step forward, afraid to crack the moment you two had suddenly been thrust into.

“how long?” he smiled a bit at your ambiguous words, somehow understanding exactly what you meant.

that’s something that always pissed you off about suguru. he could read you like a book. no matter how far you hid the things that bothered you, suguru always came to dig them up. “once a month. i knew what i was looking for, and yet you never came back.”

so many years of silence, of trying to forget his name, trying to act like his absence didn’t tear at your heart. and here he was now, like an unwelcome ghost.

“i thought you would’ve changed.” his voice was soft but he offered no explanation. you had imagined what it would be like to see suguru again, maybe an apology for suddenly disappearing and maybe an explanation that would make sense.

“where did you go?” you stood up from your spot, the wind nipping at your skin just like it had 10 years ago

“away. i couldn’t have stayed here, not after what happened.” his voice was cold ad you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

“why didn’t you come get me? you told me we could’ve gone together.” the words were bitter although the anger died just as they slipped past your lips.

“i couldn’t risk taking you. i didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“wherever you had gone, i would’ve followed.”

“i know. that’s why i didn’t tell you.”

you wanted to scream at him. demand something more, anything more from him. but the wind, the cold air, his presence, it all seemed to weigh you down, and the words never came.

“i loved you, suguru.” those words left unsaid all those years ago slipped out before you could even think to stop them. you had stopped them once before, and you weren’t about to do it again. not when suguru was looking at you with apologetic eyes.

“i know.”

he stepped forward, reaching towards you with a desperation a man starved could only have.

he reached towards you and for once in your life, you didn’t pull away.

he stopped just in front of you, his breath almost shaky. and then, in a voice that barely held itself together, he spoke.

“seeing you again made me realize something, i still love you.”

it was so simple. the words you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for, the ones that had been left unsaid for all those years. no explanations, no apologies. just that. a quiet confession. the truth, buried for so long, finally emerging.

you opened your mouth to respond, but there was nothing left to say. without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. suguru stiffened for a brief moment bit his arms slowly wrapped around you.

“i missed you.” he murmured, voice thick with something that sounded like regret and relief all at once. “i missed this.”

and in the darkness of the playground, with the years melting away as if they hadn’t existed at all, you both stayed. you wanted something more, but for now, this would be enough.

the comfort of being together would be enough.

[bullet-prooflove]

Return on Investment - Joe Velasco x Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @multilin21 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @rosaliedepp @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @legit9thlunaticwarrior @witches-unruly-heart @plaidbooks @kiwiithecrazybird @irishavengersassemble @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond

There's hate in your gaze, it’s the first thing that Joe notices. It’s fire and vitriol, blazing across your features as your eyes fixate on him. Your hands are restrained behind your back, cinched by a zip tie that bites into your skin. You fight the man that brings you to him, jerking and twisting as you try to wrench yourself free.

There’s a 100k in the hold all that Joe holds between his hands, enough to buy you and the rest of the girls that are being sold off. The traffickers hadn’t known what they were doing when they’d snatched you up, they didn’t know they’d taken an undercover officer.

“You want her?” McGuire asks him. “She’s got a lot of fight, good retail value for someone who likes that sort of thing.”

Joe cups your jaw, the leather of his glove feels like a caress against your skin as he looks into that vicious gaze of yours. His thumb strokes over the hollow of your cheek before he leans in closer.

“You’re very pretty.” He tells you.

He doesn’t expect you to spit in his face. His hand threads through your hair, his fingers gripping the strands as he jerks your head back. You hiss through your teeth as he uses his gloved fingertips to wipe the salvia from his cheek.

“Don’t do that again.” His voice has a dangerous lilt to it, one that promises bloodshed if you disobey him. He inclines his head towards McGuire. “You’re right, she’s spirited.”

“We have other buyers lined up if you’re not interested.” McGuire states shrugging his shoulders.

The thought of it nauseates Joe. The idea of another man’s hands on you, breaking you down, destroying you. He knows how it works, man after man until you’re used up and ruined.

“I’ll take her.” He tells the other man as he studies your features. He looks for a sign of recognition but there’s nothing there. You’re good, he thinks, Mike taught you well. Those years spent working undercover in Narcotics have served you well.  “I like them with a little fire, keeps things interesting.”

You snarl at him, and he grips your chin in his gloved hand, squeezing hard enough to leave finger-marks on your skin.

“Behave,” He hisses. “If you’re a good girl I may just keep you for myself. Disrespect me and you’ll find yourself in a brothel in the Bronx, earning back every cent I paid for you.”

Bronx…

He sees the flicker in your eyes when he says the safeword, the one that you, him and Mike use when things get a little intense. It had started one night in Mike’s apartment in the Bronx, the two of you had given him something he hadn’t even known he’s needed in his life. He’d never expected to fall in love with one person, let alone two. Now he can’t live without it.

The moment the word leaves his lips, all hell breaks loose. He hears the klunk of the flashbang as it hits the floor, the yells of NYPD erupting through the building. His arm wraps around your shoulders, guiding you behind one of the concrete pillars and out of harm’s ways as the sound of gunfire explodes through the air.

Joe shelters you from the chaos, his gun slipping into his hand like an old friend. He isn’t afraid to die, he’d give his life for you and Mike a thousand times over if he had to. Your ears are ringing by the time the gunfire stops. You see the flash of an NYPD vest over Joe’s shoulder.

“Mi amor, Mi vida.” Mike greets the both of you as he tucks his Glock back into the holster on his hip. “Thank God the two of you are alright.”

Love Mike Duarte, Joe Velasco & Reader? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[the-lonely-crow]

Something that i noticed in the new trailer (!!!!!!!) Is the interviewer (who im assuming is Gwendolyn Bouchard) seems genuinely very reluctant to hire Sam. Especially compared to what we know Rosie and Elias's interviews with Jonah were like. I mean in those it was like they were basically already hired as soon as they walked in the door as long as they were predisposed to one entity or another. But she was all but begging sam to just turn around for most of the interview. And the switch between you really dont want to work here please leave to 👁👁tell me all the fucked up shit youve seen👁👁felt so much more like what we saw from Jon in season 2 and 3 than what you would expect from someone like jonah.

This leads me to a couple theories:

1) whoever this interviewer is, i dont think they are the Big Bad of the series.

2) they are also either not a fully realized avatar or they are very new to being one. Again similar to season 2 & 3 Jon

Also also:

Not really theories but little things i noticed

Something feels important about the "what is the worst thing youve ever seen" from the trailer and Jona's "what are you afraid of" from his interview with Elias (mag 193). Functionally they do the same thing but there is something more concrete about the way it was asked in the trailer. "What are you afraid of" feels more abstract which makes sense considering Jonah wasnt actually trying to get any information in the interview and was really just using it as an excuse to tourment someone. But asking directly what the worst thing someone has ever seen takes off the mask of Normal Boss giving a Normal Interview for a Normal Job. She knows and Sam knows she knows.

Also Sam was apparently referred the job by Alice ("Alice speaks very highly of you"). Maybe nothing but it feels like something im gonna want to remember later when everything goes to shit.

[possamble]

Do you have any songs you associate with the group and or a particular DunMeshi character? I have a few I associate with Laios and Kabru (mostly Hozier tbh) but been having a harder time for Falin, Marcille, and even Thistle.

the way this launched me into a day long project of making playlists lmfao

This one I haven't curated super well, but I think i put it in a general progression that makes sense. Unfortunately I have a very small range of music that I listen to so Falin just turned into my millionth Sara Bareilles/Ingrid Michaelson themed girlie LMAO

Highlights on this playlist for me:

"Let the Rain" is just an entire mood for post-canon Falin I think. the line that hits the hardest about her for me is "and I always felt it before, that the world was filled with much more than the drowning soul I've learned to be."

"Twenty-three" i know i know i know it's kpop and no one's gonna get the lyrics but I couldn't not put it on the list. it's literally about being 23 and not knowing what kind of "woman" you want to become and still feeling like you want to be a kid a little bit and wanting to be understood but knowing that you don't even understand yourself and feeling like you're running out of time because you're firmly in your 20's now

"Secrets" i know is incredibly personal to Mary Lambert but most of the lyrics really fit and that like... intensely joyful self expression is just so delightful and lovely and what i want for Falin in the post-canon.

"I Am Here" to me, is just the ultimate celebration of being alive, of being joyful and grateful and happy that you're a messy animal that can laugh and hurt. I think Falin would cherish being half-monster, the fact that it gave her a second chance at choosing to be alive rather than sacrificing herself for others and letting that be her entire story, and the freedom it gives her to keep living.

you have to promise not to judge me on this one. you have to. yes i went ahead and curated an entire playlist that has okay-ish transitions/flow between songs and thematically follows Marcille's journey through the story. i also put a bit of kpop on it but it FITS okay she's a girly girl!!!!

It's rough. it's really really rough right now and i'll probably come back to it but the concrete songs i was trying to build around are like...

"What is Love?" it's literally just a girly girl song about wondering what love might feel like. complete with daydreaming about romantic stories and hoping all that wonderfulness will happen to you.

"Men of Snow" okay i know it's Ingrid Michaelson again but hear me out. this song is so fucking heartbreaking. it can be taken in different ways but if you put in Marcille's context it's gutting. it's a song about mortality and the impermanence of everything set to an almost cutesy waltz-beat piano accompaniment.

"Que Sera, Sera" self-explanatory, I think. im lucky this cover is on spotify because it's such a perfect song for encapsulating the entire sequence where Marcille decides to become the dungeon lord. (the second iteration at the end of the playlist is happier, taking the happy and calm interpretation of "what will be, will be", and also includes the second verse about a "sweetheart")

"What Sarah Said" it's a song about being in the ICU waiting for news about a loved one while suddenly realizing that there's nothing you can do. i think almost every line in this song guts me about Marcille, picturing her waiting for Falin to wake up the second time. (it's also my very pretentious attempt at tying the playlist together by answering the earlier question. What is love? "Love is watching someone die.")

"The Last Snowfall" is just. Vienna Teng has been my favourite artist since I was fifteen and part of it is that she has this incredibly beautiful way of leaving lyrics impactful but ambiguous. This song isn't about being afraid of losing someone but miraculously getting a happy ending, it's just an exploration of that fear with a "what if" built in, and I just think it's such a good way of capturing how Marcille was prepared to lose Falin and that was so important, almost even more important than the fact that it ended up being a happy ending anyway. also I wish i could have put in the live version because it's insane

For Thistle the only recommendation I have is Bird Song by Florence and the Machine it's wonderfully eerie, i literally think it's the best musical depiction of that specific kind of guilty murderer anxiety of "the telltale heart" from edgar allan poe

[shinji-hibiki]

passes microphone to u tell us ur shinji ships

Oh boy. oh bouyyyyyyyy.

Ok anyone super familiar with me knows that my #1 shinji romance is shinji/hakupo tsukishiro. i had seen both of them used separately in an ancient utau medley video. neither of their voicebanks were used very well. but i was obsessed with their designs. they were my favourites out of the bunch and contrasted so well w each other so i made them duet suki kirai . they don’t have super concrete personalities so it’s really fun to imagine them as a silly ‘opposite-type’ romance where they endearingly bother each other and act as each other’s grounding force. Even more fun if you consider a UTAUniversity or similar setting where shinji is a rowdy and delinquent band club member and hakupo is a carefree, slacker-type guy :*]

I’m surprised I’m not more into shinji/nitarou otodamaya because that’s definitely the most ‘canon’ character duo. It’s fun to imagine them as childhood friends who are really close and not afraid to be affectionate w each other… and since im a gay guy with a bad habit of crushing on friends i know that theres definitely some kind of deep-seated longing in one or both parties. Maybe they had something once but continued on as friends. Maybe they fooled around one night and never spoke of it again. Maybe nothing has happened yet but it inches closer. But I definitely enjoy their dynamic of ‘reckless guy being an enabler to his voice of reason’ lolol

A pair I’ve been considering a LOT recently is shinji/piggy!!!! Piggy’s VP (buuta) is in the vkeiloid circle and thus she counts as part of their entourage. to me. I’m really bad at distinguishing whether a character pairing is platonic or romantic and dont really care at this point. Shinji and piggy in my brain go on shopping trips and dinner dates and out to karaoke. it’s interesting 2 imagine them bonding with each other over living in the city and being part of subculture scenes. I imagine they have a really compatible dynamic where they can talk really easily to each other and are just really loose and comfortable being weird together.

Shinji/soho is another really funny one I consider being similar in nature to him and piggy. Soho to me is kind of a free agent where he’s noncommittal but affectionate towards anyone he’s friends with. Shinji is probably one of soho’s closest friends where he feels comfortable being totally real to him. they’ve seen everything and love each other dearly. But like at the same time soho is also in a fucked up love triangle with nitarou and kotaro because they’re all friends and in a band and theyre all kind of gay about it

^and of course on that tangent i am also dedicated to the idea that Yes Everyone In Shinji’s Band Is Kind Of In Love With Each Other. or at display a lot of affection and are just generally really close. I like to think that they all live in a cramped apartment together with a really big bed that they all cuddle together in. I have a lot of feelings about the individual relationships between band members but i need more time to think about that before i write it down lolol. but in the meantime here’s an awesome chart showing some of it. i bet i even forgot some of it but oh well

well i hope u enjoyed reading all of that :*] its a lot but im actually really glad someone prompted me to get all my thoughts out about shinji romance. love you

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 14:

"Feed me poison, fill me 'till I drown."

Flare | water inhalation | "Just hold on." 

Fandom: Owl House

Prompts used: All

This once again is in the 'who the frick knows' timeline. Where I move things to fit my needs. It's before the day of Unity Fight, but Hunter gets on their side earlier on… yeah idk. :) I kinda wanted to parallel the battle they had in the human realm in season 3, cause ya know *°•☆trauma☆•°*

TW for drowning

…

Luz pretends she's an open book. She smiles and laughs and puts herself out there like the heart on her sleeve is more than just an illusion. She can pretend everything is fine, that nothing happened ever-

Until she cant.

She stares at the chaos around her, wonders what she should have changed to fix it. Her feet feel numb while the rest of her tingles unpleasantly, she wonders if it will ever fade back to normal or if it's a side effect of being turned to stone. She thinks of Eda, and how that had almost been her fate once, she wonders where she is now. 

A shout reaches her ears before someone crashes into her, when she opens her eyes again she's across the room, a pile of rubble where she once stood.

"What are you doing!? We need to get out of here!" 

"Hunter? Where's everyone else?" Luz duct tapes her spiraling mind together, she's fine.

"They're getting everyone else to safety. I don't know what you've been doing, but we need to get out of here before Belos finds us!" Hunter tugs her along, FlapJack sitting himself on Luz's head. 

Luz can't let Belos see Hunter, she needed to get him out of here, Belos was crazy. She stumbles over her legs but pushes on, they needed to-

"Oh Luzura, we weren't finished yet." That irritating, spine tingling, voice echoes across the space. 

"Miércoles." Luz mutters, pushing Hunter out of the way of a stabby slimy limb. 

"Maybe we should invite your friends-" 

"You won't touch them!" Luz stands in front of Hunter's fallen form, the former Golden Guard still staring at the hole where he'd once stood.

"Oh but they are in my way, why should I spare the traitors?" Belos floats closer, golden robes fluttering behind him, mask still chipped from her hit in their earlier fight. 

"You can feed me poison, fill me 'till I drown in it, but if you hurt my friends, it's over." Luz knows she can't beat him, knows that she helped him get to where he is, but she won't stand by and let something happen to her friends.

"I see. Well, I'm afraid we'll have to revisit this at a later date then Human. When youre more… mallable to my cause. Im sure you'll see things my way then." Its the only warning they get before he slams his spikes into the ground in front of them, the slab theyre on flinging them into the air. 

Luz chokes on her scream as she reaches for Hunter. FlapJack reaches him first, much to her relief, Hunter able to cling to the palisman turned staff and orient himself. Luz watches him shrink above her, looking over her shoulder to see what her demise might be. The foggy waters of a lake are steadily getting closer, she wonders if its swampy/bog water or boiling like the seas, and which would be worse. She wonders if its even deep enough to keep her from splattering apart and joining the liquid. Or maybe its not even a liquid or water, its the Boiling Isles, it could be anything.

She looks back up, seeing Hunter making his way towards her, arm outstretched. Even with Flaps teleportation magic, Luz is falling too fast. She braces herself the best someone falling to what could be there doom can, squeezes her eyes closed and takes a deep breath- 

Like getting slammed into solid concrete by a truck. The breath is forced from her lungs, tingling sensations run down her spine all the way to her toes in waves of numbness to pain, shes surrounded slowly by the lake water unable to get her body to cooperate as her head spins on a stiff neck. She stares through murky water as the light fades away, limp limbs swaying above her. Her lungs ache in a way shes never had, like the thought of her diaphram contracting is the silliest thing its ever heard and would much rather stay a deflated bloom, but dang does she need air- 

A short breath, she chokes as thick liquid invades her nose and mouth, small contractions of the muscles still willing to work as she fights to remove the water and find air. But she is no fish… soon she will be nothing at all. Her eyes slip closed. 

Hunter curses every single thing he can think of as he pushes FlapJack as fast as he'll go. He was utterly useless in that fight, one look at Belos and he'd frozen up, how was he supposed to protect these people if he couldnt even- he plunges into the water without a second thought, eyes squinted as he follows the bubbles down to Luz's limp form. He wraps a careful arm around her back, pulling them all to the surface. 

"Luz, Luz wake up," he sputters water and wipes his eyes clear as he frazzedly looks over Luz's unmoving form. "Come on, just hold on, y-youre gonna be okay!" He quickly searches her jacket, pulling out soaked glyphs, quick to do what he remembers her doing. 

A fireball to the sky, exploding in brilliant light, a fire made nearbye for warmth, carefully rolling Luz onto her back he braces himself before pushing down on her abdomen, right below her sternum. He cant say he knows what he's doing, but this is the section of the body you push on to help someone whos choking, if it doesn't work-

After only a few pushes shes convulsing and he quickly pushes her onto her side as water- and whatever else- is expelled. He cant help the choked sound of relief he makes, holding her steady as she disolves into a fit of coughs. 

"Oh thank the Titan." FlapJack tweets his agreement pecking at the humans hand. 

She either doesnt notice or doesnt care, soaked hair curling into her face and hiding it from Hunters view, her coughing has finally died down, shivers wracking her form as she slumps into Hunters hold. 

"Luz?" 

"'M'okay." She looks up at Hunter, eyes wet and lip wobbling.

Something hits Hunter then, a passing thought solidifing before his eyes. 

For all of Luz's joking and poking and prodding, she is still a kid. A kid who apparently just faced Hunters worst nightmare, and probably almost died at least twice. Not to mention every other thing she'd faced since stepping into this world shes now stranded in. 

"We'll get through this." He says it with as much determination as he can muster, just as shadows fall over them from the sky. 

They both tense automatically, Luz's trembling hand already drawing a circle in the mud forming beneath their soaked forms, and Hunters hand outstretched for FlapJack. 

"Luz! Hunter!" Several voices reach their ears, familiar and concerned and the two relax. 

For the secrets the two share, they forget sometimes that they are not alone. It may just take a minute for them to learn what sharing burdens actually meant.

[thenamessparkplug]

i went on a BUNCH of yapping under the cut about dumb shit lmao

sort of??? a vent?? ig?? idk im just gonna post it before i convince myself not to

i have this one vivid memory of a fourth of july several years ago, im not sure quite how many, i assume i was somewhere from 9-12 years old? anyways my dad drove my family up to some street id never been before and we all sat out on the sidewalk to watch the big fireworks they were setting off over the water. that was the only time i really ever remember actually enjoying watching fireworks. they were bright and colorful but distant, and there was a noticeable buffer between the explosion and the sound that followed. the concrete was warm and it smelled like summer. im not quite sure how long we sat out there. could have been anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour but i couldn't have told you the difference.

its kind of ironic how important this holiday is to me no matter how much i despise it

not in the sense that i care about american independence day, but a hell of a lot of things that would be hard to forget have certainly happened.

i could have died this day two years ago.

it was nobodies fault.

windy night, unstable firework, happened to be sitting in the wrong place at the wrong time.

but i got away with only a small burn.

i think a lot about what could have happened had things gone slightly differently. had i been sitting farther forward. had i not moved fast enough. would i still be here? maybe im being over dramatic but i honestly dont know. i dont know what could have happened.

i was away from home that year. far away from my parents. and as funny as it is earlier that day i was genuinely contemplating if i had died today what would i have been worth. did i do anything worth remembering, had i been somebody worth caring about. and i didn't know.

ive changed a lot in those past two years. the person who looks back in the mirror is not that same kid who laughed at the thought of death when it stared him in the face. ive been to hell and back, im an emotional wreck, and its become kinda hard to breath sometimes but yknow we tough it out.

i still am afraid to die. but now its not because i feel as though ive done nothing of value, but because now i feel as though i actually have something to lose.

because despite everything somebody does care

and despite everything i have done something of value, even if it was just making somebody laugh once

there have been days where i wished that firework had ended it after all

thats something i cant deny

but to finally understand that yeah somebody would miss me

is enough to hope i get to sit on that warm sidewalk and watch the sky again someday

[lumalalu]

man fuck it im gonna start doin wip wednesdays here

Summer is sweet and endless and she has nothing to do but look at me. She's looking at me now, through the sun's glare on her mirror. She shadows the shapes of my mouth, but doesn't put her voice to my words.

My parents are worried about Grace. They think something's wrong with her - I know what it is. Grace knows, too, looking at me, looking through the glare in the mirror. Everything about her is wrong. I could fix her, if she would let me.

Solid, measured knocks. "Gracie?"

"Yeah?" She pulls her braids back to look at her shoulders uncovered. The angle of her jaw. She is trying to see how it matches up to mine.

"Your mother and I are going to go to the mall. Do you want to come?"

I've never been a fan of the sweltering heat of a cracked-asphalt parking lot, nor the chill on my skin in a Macy's. Grace says, "Okay." But she only said that so that she can look away from me. She is a fool. I can be found in anything that can reflect. I watch her in the windows, in silver lockets, in the mirrors she models new boots in. She parades about like a wind-up toy, a ballerina in a music box. Her mother hands her new skirts for the new school year, button-up blouses, low-cut but not whorish, and modest stockings.

The dressing rooms are hidden in the corner, neatly separated by two icons of triangles - one upside and one downside. I follow her to the wrong one, the wrong stall. It's cramped and ill-fitting, somewhat like a body. Grace tries her best to avoid me still. It's a valiant effort, I'll give her that much. But at some point, in a few minutes, maybe, she'll have to turn around and face me.

Grace takes off her tanktop like the accused pushing off concrete slabs. She hisses with impatience at the clasp of her bra and its stubborn claws in her skin, throws it on the bench with more violence than is necessary. Branded into her back it remains, aching, smoking. Cramped and ill-fitting. She itches at it like the fabric is stuck in her, like it still remains subcutaneously and she could pull it away finally, permanently, if she also removed the skin. Her nails are well cared for, and so, won't do the job. I smile at the sound of her bent elbows.

Her pants go too, her keys squeezing free of the claustrophobic pockets and diving with raucous applause to the floor. Her phone is in her purse, because the back pockets are only decorative. Grace doesn't curse. Her words are never ugly. Instead, her lips bend into the shape of: "shit", and then she bends and picks up the keyring. It is unadorned. Why should it be anything else? A key only has one purpose.

For a moment we stand there together, Grace's back to me, my back not quite to hers. She is hesitating, stretching out the moment between one set of clothes and the next. The blouse is slippery and coarse in texture, sends spider legs running over her back. The skirt is of good quality, but takes up in the back, so she is afraid to bend. No pockets.

I ask her if I can see it. She stares at the off-white wall in silence, and then she turns.

"Oh, no, Gracie. That won't do at all." I tell her. "That thing isn't even fit to be a tablecloth. It's see-through, it's itchy on my ribs. It's pushing my skin too close to my bones, the points of my ribs poking at my lungs. It's like a coffin leaking air, sighing its way into the ground." 

Her breath hitches. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She's saying to herself, to the mirror, to me. I make a sound - in my mouth it is sympathetic, but in hers it is animal, pained, cornered.

[scarreads]

For all those who suffer with mental health, you are not alone.

From when I was just 13, I started to notice a shift. External or internal i did not know. Speaking became harder, listening near impossible, I started ignoring every little aspect of my life. This is how my story starts, many others as well I'm sure.

Sitting here, writing this, expecting every aspect of it to be perfect i began to reimburse some of my worst moments. Seeking inspiration in my downfalls, stumbling along them, trying to find value in my struggles. Disheartening, i know. I don't just want to write some beautiful, captive story without meaning for others. No one is perfect and I'm here to share my imperfections.

Strolling through the lingering people, watching them laugh, watching them live. Running up to same old concrete spot my group sits in, i wait. Minutes trickle by, no one is showing. My hands begin to sweat, I'm clammy despite the harsh winter breeze. This isn't like them. I'm a little on edge when they trickle in one by one, merrily sitting down striking up conversations. Smiling at them all I pretend to be my usual confident self, not quite feeling it. They don't notice of course, if they did I wonder what they'd think.

Losing myself in thoughts of foul words and angry tears I forget where I am. Right, don't make a scene. Don't make a scene. They wouldn't do that..

Standing up, I head off' to class early, afraid I'd combust if not. I need to distract myself. Trying to focus on my teacher I notice a spike in my pulse, surely it's nothing right? Seconds feeling like hours, eyes burning, chest constricting, i notice how sweaty I am, how even when I’m panicked no one is paying any attention to me. Good, they would think I'm a freak. I'm safe, I'm fed, i have an education, I'm good at everything I do. Little did they know my "perfection" was a persona. Cmon, don't get distracted. Breathe in, hold, breathe out, repeat. Nothing. Shit, shit, shit, shit. This is bad, this is bad, I'm going to make a scene, people are going to hate me. I can already feel their ire, burning through my lungs, halting my breathing. Im stuck. The distinct feeling of acid running down my throat hitting my stomach is nauseating. I'm going to throw up. My vision was starting to blur, my body vibrating, my lunch fighting for an appearance. I have to get out. Excusing myself outside I burst into gut renching sobs. What is wrong with me?

[echantedtoon]

Chasriel Week Day 4

Day 4: first meeting *Deltarune Au* Trying to find the book you were specifically looking for was kinda hard when the shelved were at least twenty feet each and filled with easily hundreds of books. And did I mention that the library had at least seven floors with easily fifty bookshelves on each floor? Yeah it wasn’t wasy finding anything in there, unless you were the librarian. That lady seemed to know the place like her own glasses, unfortunately she was rather vague as well. Should be in the fiction section she said. You should find it on one of the middle shelves she said. Well she didn’t specify and now he was walking around looking at random book covers and reading their names like some child on a wild goose chase. Who knows how long this would take? For the life of him this would take all eternity at this point. He sighed and just kept scanning the booktitles looking for any that might’ve been good to read, because at this point he severly doubted he would find the specific one he wanted, so it wasn’t a bad idea to look for some others he might like just in case. Was a good idea. Right? Eventually he stopped and stared at one green covered book. Funny, it’s cover didn’t say anything. The thin thing was wedged between two much larger books and didn’t look easy to get out-…..And wouldn’t you know it. It was actually correct. When he reached out a hand and tugged, it didn’t budge. It felt like a rock stuck inside concrete. So what else to do but to pull harder. Made sense right? But when he pulled harder nothing happened. Ok. Time for extreme measures. Both of his hands came to grab the book's skinny frame and he pulled harder, wings fluttering in frustration. He didn't have to wait long. A moment later it FINALLY came loose-....With about twenty or so book from it's left side. He yelped and watched in horror as they all fell to the floor with loud thumps. A few monsters around him paused what they were doing and looked over at him. To which he froze and gave a nervous chuckle at the situation....Before quickly bending down and picking up the books and placing them back onto the shelf one by one. Not sure in the correct order but hopefully no one would notice. Completely forgetting the small book and placing it back with the others. It didn't matter anyways. He was a little too busywith the cleaning up of his mess to care at the moment. Leave it to him to do something this embarrassing He was just reaching the last book when another grip made him freeze. ...There was another hand on the book, right next to his. He looked up and froze at the sight of red eyes and smile looking right at him.

"Here. Allow me to help you out there."

"Uh..."

The smiling figure without another word, stood, turned to the shelf next to them and gently placed the book back with the rest. Before smiling back down to the still crouched monster. ...And raised a brow. "Are you comfortable down there?" He immediately stod up with a small squeak and the other chuckled good naturdly. "Well, now I can see you better. Looks like you had quite the mess to clean up there."

"Um..Y-Yeah. T-T-Thank you," he managed to squeak out. Making the other guy laugh again. This guy was...tall to say the least. Or at least taller than his small self. And his features were, pardon the term, heavenly. And he nearly swallowed his tongue when he chuckled again at his stunned silence. "Well, I can tell you don't need my help anymore. I'll leave you to your own-"

"Chara!" His squeaky voice forced out making the taller monster pause. He cleared his throat quickly. "U-Um. I-Im Dominic."

He blinked a couple times before reaching out his hand to shake Chara's. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chara. You may call me Asriel." Chara’s face flushed a slight bright green and smiled nervously. “Y-You too!” Asriel smiled and finally let go of his hand. “I hate to be rude and cut our meet up short, but Im afraid I have business elsewhere to take care of. Please, take care of the shelves.” “O-Ok.” He gave another smile before turning and walking the opposite direction from Chara, as the human could only stare and suck in a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

[planetknoxville]

You’re not my dad (Johnny Knoxville x Reader ft Bam)

Under 18 do not interact 

Notes: I've read every bit of Knoxville fanfiction there is so im going to have to write my own. I need this man out of my head, it's becoming a problem. The time its set is kinda around movie 2 or 3 or 4 idk who cares. It's not quite fluff, not quite smut, just a kinda fatherly Johnny because I'm a sick sick individual. I made up a character called jess she a dickhouse chick i guess just made her up cause i hate the Y/N thing lol

Warning: Blood, drinking, swearing, reckless mentally ill behavior, daddy kink if you squint,  etc

Please drink responsibly 

words 2400ish

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

“Come on dipshit”

 I looked up to find Bam standing in front of me with a cooler in one hand and both of your skateboards in the other. I knew that cooler wasn't his and would have bet this month’s salary on it containing beers he'd stolen from catering that were meant for after filming had wrapped for today.

“A bit presumptuous that I’d want to hang out with you Brandon”, You said peering over the top of the trash magazine you’d been pretending to read. The day was going very slowly, as only a few people were actually on set and the ones that were here were absorbed in work you wanted absolutely nothing to do with. So, there you were lounging in a camp chair waiting for some dumb stunt that you knew was not happening today.

“Come onnnnn..” he whined, kicking you squarely in the shin.

“You’re a menace to society” you said through gritted teeth. Sighing in resignation you rose from your chair and immediately shoving him as hard as you could. He barely stumbled and looked back at me with disbelief, “ Is that all you’ve got Jess?”

We slipped behind the sea of large blue tents that shielded the expensive camera equipment and crew from the sun. We’d been filming in the paramount lot for two weeks now, there were several air conditioned warehouses but no, the holy trio of Jeff, Spike and Johnny had decided that outside in the boiling Los Angeles heat was far better. You began to think they were really pranking you with melanoma.

Filming was usually fun but there was a lot of waiting around. Get ready and wait, they always say. Bam and I were a lot alike, both liked skating and found it especially hard to do nothing or sit still so naturally, we became fast friends. In the first couple of days of mucking around we had found a few unused (hopefully) planks of wood, a large flat sheet of plywood, some milk crates and other assorted junk which we squirreled away and started building our very own skate park. It was precarious and constantly breaking but that was half the fun. It was tucked away in the corner of the giant concrete lot, our own private death trap. Just few bushes, a metal park bench with a plaque of remembrance for some executive that probably should be forgotten and the two dickheads dumb enough to fuck around and find out.

You both started throwing beers back like it was your job. If we couldn’t do our actual jobs then we had to put our talents to good use. Technically, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, birds were chirping away, and sweat was dripping down your face right into your eyes.

“Fucking hell”, you moaned, using your sleeve to mop your brow blinking rapidly as the salt made your vison blurry. “Take off your jacket, Numbnuts,” Bam shouted.

“It's part of the outfit dummy” you did a little turn.

“You look homeless Jess.”

 Unfortunately, it was kind of true. the black and white flannel you were wearing had more holes than you could count, the white crop was dangerously thin close to showing your nipple piercings and you'd patched up the knee of your jeans only last night. You'd done it drunk and after sticking yourself a few too many times declared it done and perfect. But you were afraid if you looked at it too close it would fall apart. The icing on the cake was the white bandana you had been wearing as a shitty ineffective mask to get past the covid police that was still tied around your neck. A plague neckerchief if you will.

"Fine" you slipped it off your shoulders. Bundling it up into a ball, you took aim throwing it at the metal bench but missed, landing it directly in the middle of a bush. “Good one” Bam sneered. You rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses, aware that he probably couldn't even see it, so you flipped him off to drive the point home.  

You heard the general chatter from inside the tent grow louder and the both of you froze, looking at each other in mild panic. It wasn’t necessarily a secret what you’d been doing, people generally knew where to find us but you weren’t super keen on having soul sucking executives know about the giant liability that the two of you had created (outside of the carefully planned stunts).

 “Shit” we both scrambled to throw our discarded beer bottles behind our friend The Bush.

Two men started walking around the tarps and into our janky club house. As they got closer, you both audibly relaxed. It was Spike and Johnny. “Calm down guys we’re not here to break up the party” Spike still looked annoyed “it’s not like we can go ahead anyway today”

Johnny touched him on the shoulder and said “bring the camera back here, one of these idiots is bound to eat shit" he looked over his stupid aviators at me, winking. “I’ll bet $100 it will be you Doll”.

My cheeks started to grow hot and not from the beer. How did he always know what to say, it took all your self-control not to turn and stare. Like most women alive you found him irresistible, but you were dealing with it by pretending he didn’t exist. The men continue to stand in the cool shade, chatting but also watching. You hated that. Please fuck off Knoxville let me look like shit in peace, you thought bitterly

We began skating again, trying to stick the landing of a ramp we'd built only the day before. You’d even “borrowed” the props department's power drill because Bam was moaning about going the extra mile. You took your run up and predictably the ramp bowed in middle causing you to bail half way through stumbling and tripping over your board. You could feel the four beers you’d sculled sloshing around in your stomach, cheering you on internally.  

Spike started to clap slowly, jeering sarcastic encouragement “You've almost got it”

 “It's looking like a really good doll” Johnny, not even trying to keep a straight face.

“This is not conducive to my success fossils” You got back on your board rolling over to the cooler. Johnny put a hand over his heart feigning emotional distress.

Cracking another beer, you saw Johnny raise an eyebrow. You'd think for a man with his history, he’d be a little cooler. “You want one Irving? You need to loosen up”.

Turning away from the death glare and back to Bam who was lining up for his turn.

 “That shit is wobblier than your ass,” you whined.

Bam laughed “You're leaning into it way too much”.

“Then you fucking do it” you shoved him as you passed continuing to circle the ramp draining your beer and throwing it into the bush. It missed hitting the side of the bench breaking into a million pieces.

“Jess!!!” a chorus rang out and I raised my hands in an admission of guilt. “Don't worry baby I'll clean it up”. Snatching up and popping the top off another beer, you made a show of putting it safely on the ground out of the way. You could feel Johnny's eyes burning right through as you and Bam began to giggle uncontrollably.

“You've got this right? I’m going home” Spike clapped Johnny on the back. “I will see you both tomorrow whether or not you’re hungover” he pointed his fingers at us. Simultaneously we both sprang to attention “Sir, yes Sir” arms raised in a salute. He walked away mumbling and rolling his eyes.

“Thank god”, you cheekily beamed, “because I'm drunk as fuck”. Bam grinned back “let's hang here for a while, I've got something special”. From his pocket he pulled a silver flask. Gleefully you grabbed it, downing a huge mouthful.

“Woahhhh” Johnny shouted “You need to take it fucking easy”.

“Alright precious” You handed the flask back reluctantly.

“Did you know I used to be a gymnast?” you shouted back, “Could put my legs behind my head”. Johnny's mouth fell open in what you didn’t know was shock or disapproval. Bam barked a laugh, half of his sip coming out his mouth, the other out his nose. You patted him on the back patronizingly as he doubled over coughing still laughing.

“I can still do some of the tricks”. You launched yourself forward in a cartwheel. “I used to be able to do this thing, we called it the Hawk Tony”.

 “Why?” Bam wheezed.

“Cause you skate upside down.”

 Lining up with the skateboard, you took a deep breath and let the liquor flood your body with electricity. You planted my hands directly in the middle of the grip, balancing carefully and flicking your legs up vertically. A pretty decent handstand you thought for a bitch ten years out of practice. You hear Johnny let out a low whistle “Why didn't I think of that”.

“Well well look at you go” Bam said “Can you move?” As if a handstand on a skateboard was not enough? “You bet” I balanced on one hand, using the other to push off the concrete. Balancing was a lot harder than you remember and you needed to push off several times, but you did a circle around the park, stood up with only the slightest wobble, then raised your hands in a proper dismount and bowed to the now clapping Bam and Johnny.

“Jess!!! Look at yourself” Bam shouted. Thinking my shoelace had come undone I glanced down only to see scarlet droplets raining down on the concrete. I pressed my fingers to my face as if to check for a nosebleed when I saw my hand.

A bloody gash with a shard of broken glass. Beer bottle glass. "If it isn’t the consequences of my own actions”. Johnny started walking over, Bam stood motionless with an unopened bottle in his hand.

“Seriously guys don't even worry it's not that bad” you looked over at Johnny and smiling like an idiot you took two bloody fingers and wiped it over your cheek like some kind of grotesque Eye Black that footballers wore.  You pulled the glass from your palm, undoing the bandana from around your neck and tying it around your hand, tightening it with your teeth.

Johnny reached his hands out for you, “Come here kid, let me look at it”. Very quickly and impulsively you chucked down your board and rode out of his grasp. “Are you shitting me, Jess? Come back here”.

“I'm fine, Mr Knoxville. It's just a scratch.” You teased. The alcohol had made you feel nothing but a warm confidence. Bam had unfrozen coming over to stand next to Johnny like two disapproving parents. “Seriously, dude. You're bleeding kinda a lot.” he said nervously.

“Oh no, someone is bleeding on the set of Jackass. What a tragedy. How will I ever survive??” You waved your hands around in the air dramatically, unaware of the blood slowly but surely dripping down your fingers. You continued skating around, deaf to their pleas to stop and come to the medical tent. You snagged another beer, this time using your teeth to open the bottle.

“You guys are being ridiculous, okay I’m fine” You downed most of the beer as a trophy for your misguided victory lap. Johnny turned to bam, whispered something to him. “What are you girls gossiping about?” You queried.

Bam nodded, got on his board and started skating around. Thinking he'd finally relaxed, you rode alongside him grinning. He was just a board length ahead of you when he sharply cut in front of you, and you had to abruptly stop, staggering sidewards. “Bam you fucking stupid cun...” Your stream of profanity cut off by legendary stuntman and actor Johnny Knoxville HOISTING you over one shoulder and hauling your bloody drunken ass towards the medic tent.

“Fucking put me down” you squeal wiggling desperately. This was the most mortifying thing you could have ever imagined, you’d rather drown in horse cum. You couldn't help noticing how effortlessly he carried you, like a ragdoll, he'd picked you up like you weighed nothing.

“Darlin, you should have come on your own when I gave you the chance”.

“Please put me down, I'll walk”. You whined now seeing the blood-soaked bandana, your head swimming from both the beer and being upside down. You could see the trail of red you’d left, staining the footpath and his white shirt where you were grasping at. He continued on his way ignoring your cries, leaving a bemused Bam to pour beer on the ground to wash away the literal crime scene you caused.

“Asshole You're not my dad”.

“Well, someone's gotta be, doll”, he drawled. God that accent, it pulsed straight to your core. You'd fantasized about him manhandling you sure but not like this. “PUT ME DOWN” you all but screamed at him. You pulled hard on his belt, hard enough to rip the stitches on his belt loops, leaving bloody smears on the white letters that spelled KNOXVILLE. You heard him hiss and then he slapped you hard, half on the butt, half on the top of your thighs. You were genuinely speechless. Humiliated and in increasingly more pain, tears filled your eyes and you finally stopped struggling.

“If I'd known spanking you would have gotten you to behave, I would have done it weeks ago” He chuckled, bending his knees slightly to enter the tent. He put you down on your feet with a shit eating grin plastered all over his smug, stupid, beautiful face. You stared at him blankly as his features blurred with the bright light they had illuminating the tent, your own head swimming and you could hear ringing. His strong muscular arms snaked out, grasping your shoulders as you swayed slightly forward, slumping your head against his chest.  “Baby it’s okay, Take it easy”. He held you gently and whispered the comforting words against the top of your hair as the confused but attentive medic pulled forward a stretch for him to lay you on. You moaned at the loss of contact, cringing internally that you’d made a sound like that out loud, but he held this small smile on his lips. He grabbed your other hand and murmured into the back of it “It’s okay,  I’ve got you��. As your head began clear, you started to sober up and the medic cleaned and dressed your wound, you looked over to see Johnny staring intently at you with a egotistical smirk plastered on his awful handsome face.

“What?” You groaned desperately trying to cover your face with your arm, but he held your fingers in a firm embrace. Forcing you to keep looking at him. How were you ever going to live this down.

“I guess you owe me that hundred bucks baby girl”.

[purple-babygirl]

hi im not sure if you’re taking requests so you can ignore this if you’d like, but i really liked your mafia bucky fic !! and i was wondering if you could do one where maybe someone breaks into the house and the reader has to force themselves to be big for a little bit just so they can fight them off and then she runs to the little safe room and goes little there and Bucky finds her there and comforts her and it’s just all fluffy? sorry if this is so specific i just loved the last fic sm 😅

Pairing: Mafia!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x f!little!reader

Word count: 1,958

Warnings: reader gets attacked (includes harassment and mentions of violence, cursing, guns), reader gets hurt, mentions of killing, Bucky's softness (yes it's a warning), ddlg dynamics.

A/N: I've been holding onto this one for forever now I'm really sorry for taking so long, dear nonnie🥺 it means the world to me that you liked mafia!daddy!bucky and i hope i delivered with this one and that you like it as much, love. Please enjoy ily xx💜

~

safe

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. You can do this.

It all happened too fast. She woke up to guns shooting, Bucky’s men yelling at each other before all the voices suddenly stopped and the door to their bedroom was violently kicked open.

She didn’t even have time to scream before she was dragged from under the large bed by her ankle.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. Just like Daddy taught you.

“Let go! You don’t wanna do this!” she shrieked, warning the person trying to snatch her off the floor, her leg kicking as she struggled to flee his vice-like hold.

She’d suddenly forgotten every single self-defense move Bucky has ever taught her and was thrashing in panic.

“Oh, I don’t?” the man laughed, his grip painful on her limb as he tried to get on top of her.

She screamed when he dug his fingernails in the flesh of her shin, forcing her legs apart.

“Such a delicate little thing.” He licked his lips when he drew blood, running his gun up her bare leg, pressing down when it reached her inner thigh, “beg me to let you go.”

The words infuriated her big self. If Bucky had taught her one thing that she could never forget it was how dear and precious she was.

“Do you know who my man is?” Her free foot collided with the intruder’s chin, hitting him just right for his teeth to slam together, making him groan and loosen his grasp.

“I beg no one for nothing.” She spat, clumsily standing up, rushing inside Bucky’s large walk-in closet.

“You’re gonna regret that, you little bitch!” The masked man threatened, banging his fist on the door, “I’m gonna make that man of yours weep blood over your dead slut body!”

Her breath was coming out in puffs as tears blurred her vision. With trembling fingers, she moved Bucky’s hung-up suits to the side, revealing the metal door to the panic room.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. Just a bit longer.

She could hear the man take a few steps back and she knew he was going to shoot the closet open. Her shaky fingers pushed the buttons and typed the number code, the date of the day Bucky had asked her to be his.

I feel safe knowing I have you, angel, so it’s only fit that we make it the safe room code, he'd told her with a playful shrug.

She slid inside as soon as the door moved, pushing her back against the concrete wall, trying to take her breath. The door clicked shut right before the wooden one to the closet was thrown open.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl.

You’re a big girl. You got this.

She let out a relieved sigh that broke into a sob as she tiredly slid down the wall, still hearing the scary man curse, bang and shoot on the safe room door.

Where was Bucky? She couldn’t hold on any longer. This wasn’t a situation she wanted to be present in. Her body started folding up, taking fetal position as her mind led her to the safer side against her better will. Even her fists closed upon themselves, tears leaving her eyes and traveling down the bridge of her nose. She was losing consciousness of her present surroundings, pictures of Bucky’s eyes spreading in her vision instead of the dull, grey walls of the room.

She was crying too loudly to hear the firing of Bucky’s gun right outside the door or the peeping of the door as it slid open once again.

“Angel!” Bucky’s voice sounded so distant. She felt like she was drowning with how muffled his calls were to her ears.

Seeing her body shake with sobs on the floor like that made Bucky want to walk out and shoot the man’s dead body again and again until he couldn’t be identified.

How dare they send someone here? How dare they violate the sanctity of his home? They were certainly not going to live another day to repeat or repent from their sins.

“Angel, are you hurt?” He kneeled beside her, gently untangling her limbs to check if she was wounded anywhere.

Aside from a couple of nasty scratches by her ankle, she was physically okay and Bucky could breathe a little better as his body sagged on the floor.

He swallowed and lifted her on his lap, signaling his men to leave when they stepped in the room to check if they were needed after ‘cleaning up’.

“Get me water.” Was all he said and they were running to the nearest fridge.

“I’m sorry, my angel. I’m here now. You’re okay.” Bucky mumbled, lips hovering over her temple.

“Dada.” Her body leaned into his warmth but her cries didn’t stop and Bucky could only hold her closer as he tried not to let guilt rip him apart.

She was like that now because of him. Had he been a normal man with a normal life, she would’ve been safer. She didn’t deserve to be startled awake only to be chased by a criminal in the middle of the night. She didn’t deserve any of the bullshit that hit her because she was with Bucky.

He kept planting kiss after kiss to her head, wishing he could go back and be there to protect her.

“Shh, you’re okay, my angel. You’re safe,” he kept telling her as he supported himself up with her in his arms.

Her cries were dying down and she was getting comfier in Bucky’s protective hold, fingers digging in his shoulders afraid he would leave again.

“Please, calm down, baby. I’m here. No one can hurt you, angel.” Bucky took her out and to the bathroom so he could take a look at her leg.

“Baby, are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked after sitting her down on the cold counter.

Instead of answering, she pressed her forehead to his chest and kept sniveling, hands clutching Bucky’s jacket. She wasn’t ready for him to let her go yet. She may be too far gone but her body knew it needed to be close to Bucky’s.

“Baby, please come back to me,” Bucky begged, tears threatening to spill from his once hard, cold eyes.

“Angel,” his thumb brushed her cheek and she finally looked up to him.

“Dada, I was so scared.” She sobbed, shaking at the memory.

“I’m sorry, my angel.” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead, “I’m here with you, baby. No need to be scared anymore.”

“That man- he-” she hiccupped.

“You’re okay, angel. Breathe.” Bucky stroked her back warmly as she buried her face in his chest again.

He took the bottle of water from one of his men, waving him out of the bathroom.

“Here, baby, drink some water.”

She wouldn’t move. She just wanted to be close to Daddy. She was scared and Bucky was safety. He was home.

“For me, baby. Just a tiny sip.” Bucky twisted the bottle cap open, gently cupping her cheek to coax her away from his body.

His heart swelled when she leaned her damp cheek on his palm, enjoying the warmth. Her smaller hand cupped his and her eyes closed, her face further pressed into Bucky’s hand as a soft sigh escaped her lips.

Bucky bit his lip, holding back the waterworks. He should’ve been here; should’ve prevented it all from happening. His thumb brushed her chin and she opened her eyes.

“Drink a little, angel.” Bucky offered a kind smile.

She nodded, sitting up straighter, her lashes wet with tears as she looked up to Bucky, her gaze holding no blame.

He brought the bottle to her lips and she gulped down, the chilled water soothing her sore throat.

“Better?” Bucky cocked his head to the side and she nodded, sniffing.

Bucky bowed, holding his forehead against hers. He just wanted to feel her breathe soundly; wanted to make his mind stop telling him he almost lost her forever.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my angel.” Bucky pecked her lips.

“My leg hurts.” Her voice was awfully small as she pointed to the burning scratches ruining her beautiful skin. Bucky wished he could hide her between his ribs in place of his heart.

“Daddy’s got you, angel.”

Bucky cleaned her wound, apologizing with a kiss to her cheek every time she hissed. He had her tell him what happened to distract her and it worked. She wanted him to be proud so much she eagerly told him all about kicking the bad man. Tears gathered in her eyes once again when he applied ointment but she continued with her story, Bucky’s smile keeping her calm.

“Angel, you were so brave! I’m so proud of you, baby.” Bucky kissed her bandaged leg, “how did you do that?!”

“Kept thinkin’ dada thoughts.” She hugged Bucky again.

Bucky was a puddle on the bathroom floor. She was telling him she was brave like that because she was thinking of him through it all. He adored her so much he didn’t know who he was if not her man.

“I promise this is the last time you would ever have to go through anything like that,” Bucky assured, chuckling lovingly when she squeezed him harder and nodded.

She believed Bucky. She knew he could keep her safe. This wasn’t a usual occurrence, Bucky’s always made sure she was protected. She had no doubt anything would change. She trusted her Daddy with all her heart.

Bucky knew that and it scared him to death. He was scared one day he might not be up to the trust she’d put in him. He feared disappointing her; not being there for her in time. He was terrified a day would come where he might let her down.

“Never again. You’re safe, my angel. You’re always safe with me.”

Bucky’s soft lips placed a languishing kiss to her forehead. Her eyes were next, Bucky kissed her eyelids and under her eyes. Then he left wet kisses on both cheeks before pecking her nose. She smiled shyly when he pressed his mouth to the corner of hers.

“I love you, angel,” Bucky whispered against her lips before kissing her.

~

Bucky carried her back to their bed. The room was organized again, nothing was out of place and she was in Daddy’s arms. She was safe once more.

Bucky held her to his chest all night, his mind too loud to let him fall asleep. She went back to bed almost immediately though. Bucky’s presence was all it really took for her to feel peaceful enough to close her eyes and dream again.

When she moved out of his embrace in her sleep, Bucky carefully left the room and went to his office to review the security cameras footage. He knew watching the attack would make his blood boil again but he had to see what happened and how the unlucky asshole got inside his mansion.

While she already told him she’d defended herself, Bucky was the proudest seeing it unfold on the screen.

“Do you know who my man is?... I beg no one.”

The words brought the largest smile to Bucky’s lips. He was so proud of his angel; so amazed by her courage. He thought he couldn’t love her any more than he already did and he was wrong. His heart has picked the right girl and for that he was grateful. Bucky took one last look at the shining ring in his top drawer before shutting it and walking back to continue cuddling his precious sweetheart.

~~

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss, @tinystudentfirepurse, @lavendercitizen

[dreams-of-klag]

THOughTs on the Green brothers. (spoiler alert, these thoughts are highly positive)

been seeing posts recently about the time john green was bullied off of tumblr like its something to laugh about-- i even reblogged one of them that was talking about how tr*mp should try to join tumblr and see how it goes (which was, admittedly, funny)-- but i just want to throw it out there that john green gets a bunch of shit that he doesnt deserve and i am tired of hearing it.

So heres my incomplete list of great things John and Hank Green have done that dont mean that theyre perfect people but just mean that for FUCKS SAKE people need to lay off and actually recognize that they are good people and actually making the world a better place. 

1. in their podcast, where listeners write in with questions, they always refer to people asking the questions with gender neutral pronouns unless the person specifically expresses a gender in the text of the email. They dont talk about it, its just a thing that quietly happens.

2. Their books are fucking good

John uses his books to subvert common harmful tropes that affect the way people view women and people dealing with chronic illness. “Looking For Alaska” and “Paper Towns” are absolute refusals of the MPDG trope and absolutely condemn the main (male) characters for seeing Alaska and Margot as less than full human beings. “The Fault In Our Stars” is all about how illness in general but cancer specifically doesnt mean anything, its just a horrific thing that happens to people, and how nothing you learn from having cancer is valuable enough to be worth it, and how romanticizing illness hurts people who are dealing with it. “Turtles All The Way Down” is about OCD, about feeling like a burden on people around you, and sometimes actually being hard to be around and actually hard to deal with, but how that doesnt make you less of a person, and doesnt make you any less loved, and how “getting better” or being “cured” is not the end goal of mental illness narratives, sometimes you just need to be able to get through the day and that is OK. 

Hanks books are a trip and a half. “An Absolutely Remarkable Thing” and “A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor” are simultaneously the books that have made me the most afraid of the future, and the most hopeful for the future. I dont know how else to say it. Also. well. written. queer. women. HOLY FUCK. WELL WRITTEN QUEER WOMEN. WRITTEN BY A STRAIGHT WHITE GUY. How?? you ask??? because he fucking talked to queer women, hired sensitivity readers, and actually values the input of marginalized people and wants to represent them well. Read these books. 

3. This isnt even touching on all of the charity work that they do in which they NEVER CENTER THEMSELVES so im going to do it for them because they deserve some recognition for this. They are so generous with their time, attention, platform, and money in a way that i hope becomes more common, but damn, they are making concrete change in the world in a way that most people only talk about. and theyre DOING IT. 

4. THEIR FREE EDUCATIONAL CHANNELS. FREE EDUCATIONAL RESOURCES. FREE. EDUCATIONAL. RESOURCES. and thats not even close to all of them. They also make really great explainer videos on their main channel  about really difficult topics and they break them down into something you can understand. 

They are just earnest, silly, and interesting people who are committed to experiencing the world with curiosity and i could go on and on with the just-- fucking GOOD things both of them have done and people choose to ignore those in favor of laughing about the john green c*ck monologue and making up twitter style canceling manifestos based on not having read any of their books or having engaged with any of their content in any way and straight up garbage. I just think they deserve better than that. 

tldr: stop talking shit about the green brothers. ready for a keanu reeves style green brothers renaissance on this hellsite. 

[katsukikiss]

JEALOUSY

JEAN x F!READER // COLLEGE AU // MINORS DNI!

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, cheating(ish?), oral m receiving, soft dom jean, face f*cking, suggestive dancing (w/connie and eren), alcohol use, reader is wayyy too flirty with others lol

Jean is a super kind and forgiving boyfriend, but what happens when you push his limits?

AN: idk wtf this is I just know I love this man and I had to write for him at some point, let me know if I should make a part two 😵‍💫

WC: 2.5k

Masterlist

The air was warm despite the sun being long gone. The summer was nearly over and classes would be starting up again soon. Obviously someone needed to throw one last hurrah before that, and your boyfriend and his friends were going to do just that. Jean was such a kind lover, and was a bit possesive in the beginning but now he was nothing but a sweetheart and kept saying how he couldn’t wait to dance with you later that night. You had known his friends for years, hanging out with them since you guys were freshmen and always staying in their shared house they had together. But their eyes would linger on you for too long, something your and your boyfriend had always noticed, but a sloppy tongue kiss or an ass grab would usually solve the issue. He trusted you, and trusted his friends for the most part…

They placed you in charge of getting drinks for the party since you always complained about the beverages they would offer. You and Sasha went together to buy some beer, seltzer and liquor. It wouldn’t be a party if there wasn’t snacks, or at least that was Sasha’s motto. You drove to one more store to pick up chips and pretzels before bringing your friend home and heading back to your boyfriends place.

You made your way up to Jeans room to finish getting ready. He was busy downstairs fixing up the basement with new LED lights since the old ones short circuited at the last party. You were probably too comfortable in his shared house, most of your clothes were here too. You undressed out of the t-shirt and shorts you were running errands in and sat on a chair in your bra and underwear. Music blasting, half naked, sitting in front of your boyfriends mirror applying makeup, you had no care in the world. You couldn’t hear the belligerent knocking on the door so they entered.

“CONNIE! GET THE FUCK OUT!” you squealed at the man who had just entered, instinctively throwing your arms over your chest, leaving your legs and panties exposed.

“MAYBE TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN AND I WOULDN’T HAVE BURSTED IN LIKE THIS” he yelled back at you, laughing at your flimsy attempt to cover yourself. You fumbled with the volume buttons on your phone before looking back at him.

“Can I help you?” you questioned, giving him the faintest tint of attitude.

“Nah, Jean asked me to grab some wire for the speakers, but I might stick around a little longer” he said with a sly smirk. Connie was never afraid to openly flirt with you, even in front of Jean, and it didn’t bother the two of you much, you knew it was all in good fun so sometimes you’d tease him back.

“Oh yeah?” you mused, removing your hands from your chest. “I dont think you’d last very long in here” His face turned bright red, as it always did when youd pretend to be interested in him. Before he could even answer Jean was barging into the room and instantly stood in between you two to cover your body from his friend.

“Find the wire?” Jean asked plainly. Connie nodded and swiftly made his way downstairs to finish setting up. Jean pressed a hand onto his door to close it before turning around to face you with a disapproving look.

“You know youre mine right? I dont need Connie doing something dumb later because you were teasing him” he growled at you. You looked up with innocent eyes and rutted your lower lip out. Your pouty face and adorable eyes made it hard for him to seriously be mad at you.

“Im sorry baby you know I was just messing around”

“Yeah yeah I know” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “hurry up though okay? People are gonna be here soon and I dont need more people seeing you like this”. You gave him a confirming nod and proceeded to finish applying your makeup, this time with the music playing a bit lower than before.

“To senior year!” Eren chanted and everyone repeated back “to senior year!” before you all downed shots of various liquors in the crammed kitchen. Jeans hand rested on your hip in a show of dominance. You were earning looks from his friends as well as some other senior guys you didn’t know. A tiny black dress was fitted to your figure, leaving very little to the imagination with the way it accentuated your curves.

“Y/N! Come dance with MEE” Sasha called out to you. You looked up at your boyfriend who nodded with a smile. He removed his hands from your body and watched you skip away to follow your friend down into the basement. He watched as a few others proceeded to make their way downstairs as well, as if they were following you.

The temperature of the basement was at least 5x hotter than the rest of the house because of all the bodies crammed into it. You were pretty drunk already, which is why the heat didn’t bother you or anyone else that much. Sasha pulled you through a sea of people to the back wall of the basement. The led lights outlined the ceiling with a purple glow that made it hard to see. You leaned onto the concrete for support because your head was spinning a bit after being bumped and pushed around while music was blaring. Your eyes attempted to refocus as you looked around for your friend.

“Stay here!!!! I will be right BACK okay?” she slurred. You lazily nodded as you watched the girl who brought you to this cave of a basement leave you alone. You scanned the dimly lit room for someone you knew, stumbling through the hoard. Two hands snaked their way onto your hips without you even noticing until your ass was aggressively pulled up against someones crotch. They forcibly swayed your hips in line with their own to the rhythm of the music. Your body stopped resisting and started to move on its own, the strangers hands no longer guiding you but rather holding on for the ride.

“Your ass feels so fuckin nice y/n” a familiar voice gruffed in your ear. You recognized it as Eren; Your body halted for a moment as you thought of your boyfriend, but he wouldn’t be mad at you right? It was all harmless fun, he was the only one that got to really have you at the end of the day. The alcohol in your system drowned out those thoughts as you bent over and shook your ass against him, his hips rutting forward to feel every little movement you were making while his hands dug into you. You heard him whisper ‘fuck’ a few times when you would throw your ass back into his groin.

When you snapped back up you felt a new pair of hands on you. The man behind you now had more rhythm in his actions, grinding his hips against you to the beat of the pop song that you could barely hear anymore. You turned your head slightly to see Connie, his eyes fixated on your gyrating curves while the rest of the men were watching. You laughed internally, faintly recalling what happened between you two earlier.

“I was waiting for my turn sexy” he whispered in your ear, his hot drunk breath making your neck feel sticky. You wrapped your arm back and hooked it around his neck while slithering up and down his body. Your vision was blurry and your head was all over the place. You could feel his bulge growing with every twist and turn you made. His hands made their way up your sides to the front of your body and onto your breasts, squeezing entirely too hard. You pulled yourself off of him instantly upon feeling his intrusive hands on your chest, it was as if the feeling snapped you out of the drunken haze you were in. You turned around to scowl at him, backing up a foot or two before you bumped into someones chest. Connies eyes left yours and looked up to the person behind you with a shred of fear. Turning to look up, you found relief in knowing it was your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around Jean and pulled him in tightly. One hand of his rested on the top of your head but he never stopped looking at his group of friends.

“Had fun?” he growled at them. Eren walked away, annoyed that their fun was ruined. Connie hesitantly backed up before attempting to apologize over the noise. He left and made his way upstairs, fearing that if he stayed any longer Jean would really hurt him.

“What was that about?” he snapped at you. While he didn’t care if they tried to flirt with you, actually putting their hands on you was too far for him. You backed off of his chest before speaking.

“I didn’t think you’d be mad baby I’m sorryyyy, but don’t you wanna dance with mee?” you slurred. He didn’t have his usual soft expression this time and your adorable looks didn’t have any effect on him anymore.

“Not anymore, you’re coming with me” he demanded. His low tone made you weak, you knew what was coming next when he spoke to you like that. He latched onto your wrist and pulled you up the stairs, through the kitchen, pass Eren who gave you a wicked smile and wink, as if knowing exactly what was about to happen. You made your way up to his room, he scooped you up into his arms and threw you onto the bed and stood at the foot.

“I said I was sorry” you pleaded, desperation in your voice and eyes. He liked when you would beg for mercy like this, you wanted what was coming next but pretending like you didn’t was so much more fun.

“Oh I know baby, but sorry isn’t gonna cut it tonight” he hummed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and began crawling on top of you like a lion about to devour its prey. You felt so small underneath him and his presence. You could feel the heat from his breath on your neck as he leaned closer, and he could feel the heat between your legs as you pushed your hips forward. You were waiting to feel his mouth on your neck but he pulled away and got up from the bed, your face was visibly upset.

“You know I like to make you feel good sweetheart, but I don’t think you deserve that tonight, not after what you’ve done” he said, unbuckling the belt encasing his hips. He slipped it off and let his pants fall to the floor and signaled with a finger for you to come closer. You crawled across the bed and tugged at his boxers he still had on. He lowered them a bit and allowed his long thick cock to spring out onto your lips.

You gathered saliva and spit onto him, massaging it around with your hands. You kissed the tip a few times, giving it sweet little licks before wrapping your lips around and taking him in, your behind in the air while you descended onto his cock. His hands massaged at your legs as your head bobbed in an attempt to please your man and receive his forgiveness. He pulled you off his cock by your hair and flipped you over so your back was against the bed and your head was hanging off the side. He bent down to your ear and spoke.

“I think I deserve to fuck this pretty mouth of yours, especially since you were being such a slut tonight” he whispered. You nodded, a mix of concern and kexcitement on your face; he NEVER called you names like that before, but something about it was making you feel hot; you didn’t want it to end. He stood back up, your mouth hanging open waiting for him to use. Slowly, he pushed himself in, watching you struggle and gag from the sheer depths he was reaching in that position. He wrapped two hands around your neck and began to thrust ferociously, causing several tears to fall down your cheeks. His cock was pounding into your throat that could barely accommodate.

“Your my fuckin slut, you got that?” he growled at you, his voice shaky. You tried to reply but only gurgles came out. You loved this new side of Jean you were seeing, and wondered what else you could do to get him to treat you like this again. He could feel himself in that little throat of yours against his hands, and with every thrust he could see the bulge he was creating and it drove him wild. A sweet mixture of your gagging and his mumbles and groans filled the small room. His resolve was gone as his cock began to twitch, spewing his warm white seed down your throat. He had never came in your mouth before so you were surprised when he did, you felt so full with his cock and stuffed down your throat. He dragged himself out, a string of your saliva and his seed connecting you two to eachother before snapping apart.

“Open up sweetheart, I wanna see it” he said, looking at you upside down. You opened and allowed your tongue to hang out, exposing all of the sticky white fluid coating your mouth. He admired it all for a minute before he teasingly squeezed your cheeks together and stood up.

“You can swallow now” You gulped it down and coughed a bit, your throat sore from the abuse it just endured. Jean walked over to the bathroom and filled a glass with water and grabbed you a t-shirt. He sat down on the bed beside you, you stripped yourself of the little black dress you had on and slipped into the t-shirt.

“C’mere” he pulled you by the waist into his lap, “you know I love you right? I’m sorry if I was too rough” You nodded no, and nuzzled your face into his chest, his fingers drawing little circles on your back.

“I love you too Jean” you cooed. He was always so forgiving with you, never staying mad for too long, never going too far.

“How about we make a little more noise hm? Let my boys know who you really belong to” he suggested, a primal look in his eyes. Your legs quivered at the thought of Jean making you scream, and all of his friends getting hard just listening.

“Do it, make me scream” you whispered. In one swift motion he flipped you over onto your back and grabbed your face by the jaw, towering over you again like his prey.

“Im gonna make you regret that”

[vincess-princess]

war?

Chapter 2.

Chapter 1

Word count: 3096 Warnings: none A\N: yeah guys, im revisiting all my abandoned wips instead of writing my current ones <3

Nikki was the first to wake up. It was dark - almost no light came from the crack between the metal sheet and the wall of the hole - and cold, so damn cold. The fingers on Nikki’s right hand, which he improvidently hadn’t hidden in the sleeping bag, had gone numb. He breathed on them, but couldn’t even feel the hot air on his skin; he shoved it into his sleeping bag and between his thighs and waited a few minutes for his fingers to start feeling the roughness of the fabric of his cargo pants.

Nikki raised his eyes and looked over the room, but the darkness was almost impenetrable, at least for human eyes. He could only see the silhouettes of his friends in their sleeping bags around the stove, but their calm, relaxed breathing meant they were still sleeping. Damn, his body pulled that early bird trick again. Now he had to wait for them to wake up all alone and in the dark.

Well damn, they were deep enough into sleep to handle some noise just fine, Nikki decided as he wormed out of his sleeping bag and stood up. He almost stepped on Tommy in the process, but the latter just kept snoring peacefully. To wake him up Nikki would have to dance a macarena on his body at the very least.

Nikki rummaged around the stove to find the flashlight he discovered yesterday, almost tripped over Mick and knocked over a neat pile of plates, wincing as they rattled across the floor. Mick muttered a curse and Vince murmured something in his sleep, but neither of them woke up, thankfully.

As he approached the corner with the boxes to have a quick snack on some biscuits, he couldn’t help but look at the metal sheet covering the hole. The little crack that Mick left let in almost no light, so it either must have been a really early morning or the sun wasn’t shining through the windows at the right angle yet. Nikki looked at the flashlight in his hand, then at the metal sheet, and decided a little peek out of the hole wouldn’t hurt anyone.

The sheet clanged so loudly Nikki winced again, afraid of waking his friends up – Mick would surely disapprove of his little idea. But none of them moved or said anything, and Nikki heaved a sigh of relief before carefully climbing the rope and peeping out of the hole.

The building was empty. The sunlight, as bright and clear as only dawn sunbeams could get, patterned the floor with white squares. Night chill still simmered in the air, but it was much warmer than in the basement. Scorching heat again soon, Nikki sighed, inhaling the fresh air hungrily. The air conditioners here worked damn well. A pity they turned them off during the day.

In the light of the day the destroyed part of the building looked even more ravaged. The drywall that the building was built of felt extremely similar to concrete at the touch, even emitted cold like real concrete would. Nikki didn’t know how the creators managed to achieve such an effect with drywall, but real concrete would have been too costly for sure. It was a fucking quest room, damn it. It was all fake.

His gaze fell on the computer on the table. It looked ancient, even had a CD-player in it; the screen was dirty and scratched, but otherwise nothing would suggest that it wouldn’t function normally once plugged in. He needed to fiddle with those wires in the basement – they were obviously supposed to be fixed so that the computer would work. Then maybe they’ll get some bonus loot or a marker for their next destination. Maybe even both.

Nikki stretched, yawned and headed to the door to take a look at the closest buildings. Quest room experience, as well as video games, taught him that if a building was accessible, it had something in it – loot, information, checkpoints, you name it. If only it was loot, God knew they needed it, especially meds – at least some painkillers for Tommy’s ankle and bandages for their scratches and callouses. He wanted to make it up to Tommy for suggesting to abandon him yesterday, even if Tommy didn’t know about it.

Wind carried sand along the streets of the dead city, whirling it around, flinging it violently into Nikki’s eyes. Nikki pulled a hair tie off his wrist and tied his hair up into a messy ponytail to avoid getting sand into it. It looked like they weren’t going to come across a shower soon anyway.

Nikki looked around. No one in sight; no sound except for howling of wind. Half-destroyed buildings stared at him with their empty windows. From time to time an uncanny rumble could be heard from them, as if the buildings breathed heavily. A chill creeped down Nikki’s spine, and he shook his head and turned away to face to the road in front of him.

However, the chill didn’t want to go away so easily, settling comfortably in his stomach. All the attempts to banish it from there just made Nikki more frustrated. He was always the boldest and the most reckless of the four of them - the only one not to scream at the ghost jumping from behind the corner in a haunted mansion, to knock out a psycho with a chainsaw in an abandoned asylum or to kick a crazy scientist waving a scalpel at them in a secret lab, - and that dread never came unprompted. There was something ahead which Nikki absolutely didn’t want to encounter.

This place was not like other quest rooms. They all thought such harsh conditions would only bring more excitement to the game, but instead Nikki was becoming increasingly paranoid, and others didn’t seem to do so well too. Even now, walking into the city, sun right above his head, nobody in sight, Nikki was uneasy and had to suppress a desire to run away from the road and under the protection of a nearby building. It took him a lot of effort to keep walking with his head high, and it frustrated him immensely. Why did this place have so much power over him? Was it because of the uncannily real set-up, the lack of supplies and the absence of any contact with the outside whatsoever? Or was it something else?

Nikki groaned out loud, as if a nonchalant sound could scare away the paranoia. The sound of his voice rang through the dead air, shattering the silence like a ball breaks a window, bringing the same sense of dread with it. For a second Nikki was on the verge of legging it, but when the shards stopped clinking and the echo faded away, nothing happened. The sun kept warming his back, the wind kept throwing sand around, and the city was as dead as before. Nothing to worry about.

Still, Nikki wanted to find some cover as soon as possible. So when he spotted a relatively unharmed building to the side of the road with an actually functioning door, he headed there without a second thought. Every building he passed before had its doors and windows boarded up, which meant, videogame logic again, that they were just decorations. This one, though, most likely has something of interest inside it. He would go in and he would find some loot and he would come back a hero, and Mick wouldn’t glare at him anymore, and Vince would smile at him a little bit confusedly, not understanding why he would take such a risk alone, but proud nevertheless… Well, Vince would never actually do that, but he would curve his lips a little, looking at Nikki slyly, narrow-eyed, with I-know-what-you-did-there kind of look, and that would make everything so worth it- okay, enough of that, Nikki cut himself off with frustration. He came here to find loot, not to show off in front of Vince. That came as a pleasant bonus.

The walls of the building exuded cold on touch, even though it was bathing in already hot beams of the sun-imitating lamp. The door wasn’t locked and easily, as though invitingly, opened at the mere touch of his fingertips. The smell of mold overwhelmed Nikki, and he had to cough and step back to wait for it to weather out a little. The building was flooded, almost an inch of water covering the floors, and water could be heard tapping out a rhythm somewhere inside. The mold has grown over the walls, forming intricate patterns on them. Nikki’s steps echoed from the walls, loudened by the splashes of water from his boots. The chill in his stomach that he almost managed to suppress once again raised its ugly head.

Nikki left the door open, just in case. He knew it changed nothing and the second he would spend opening it wouldn’t cost him his life, but if he wouldn’t come back others could see where he went.

The first floor must have been a store one day. Shelves were arranged across the walls, though there was almost nothing on them. The shop looked like it had been raided, and everything of value had been swiped, the rest - destroyed. Nikki walked along the shelves and dug out an old comic book, a water bottle with dirty, yellow water in it and a pack of ibuprofen. The expire date on it said “May 2057”, so exactly a month ago, but Nikki doubted it was really so. The date showed that the nuclear fallout that was supposed to happen here took place a few months, maybe a year ago. That explained the desolation – nothing had yet managed to evolve existing in such conditions. That didn’t explain why there was so little radiation around, though. Several months were nothing, the radiation could stay there for hundreds of years. The quest room wasn’t completely true to life then, Nikki realized with relief.

The comic book went into his inner jacket pocket, the ibuprofen - in his back pocket. Then Nikki proceeded to check the register. The drawer with the money was scratched all over, especially near the lock. It was closed, though - whoever did this didn’t unlock it, though they tried very hard to do so. Nikki pushed a few buttons, but the monitor of the register remained black. He opened a little cabinet under it and found a dead rat there (it even smelled like a real decomposing rat, and Nikki regretted every his life choice that led him to think that sniffing it would be a good idea) and a key – it lay right there, on the top shelf. Paranoia washed over Nikki again. Whoever wanted to open the drawer must have known there’s money inside and wanted to get it. But they somehow didn’t even think of checking the cabinet right beneath the register?

Anyway, the key was put there to be found, so Nikki put it to use. He retrieved a few banknotes from the register and a few coins. Nikki didn’t know why he would need money in a destroyed world where it had no value anymore, but again - if it was put there, it was meant to be found. Like a video game, Nikki reminded himself. Everything that exists here exists with a purpose.

The second storey seemed to have been an abandoned furniture store. The water level here was higher than on the first floor; mold grew on almost every surface, including the furniture and the register. The smell thickened, and Nikki decided not to linger there long enough for the mold to grow in his lungs. He climbed the stairs to the third storey, but the entrance was blocked by a pile of furniture, and Nikki decided not to tempt fate and risk being buried under broken desks and bookcases. After all, he still had the basement to investigate. The door there was locked, but the lock got so rusty because of the water it was no longer useful, so Nikki opened the door without much effort.

The first thing that alerted him was a lantern standing right next to the stairs on the floor. It was the only source of light in the basement, and it didn’t do its job well: the light only reached a few feet before dilating in pitch-black darkness. It looked like a kerosene lamp Nikki saw in movies about the 19th century. Only problem was, it wasn’t 19th century. This had no place in the quest room. On the other hand, how else were they supposed to light up the room if there was no electricity in a post-apocalyptic world?

Kerosene didn’t burn for long, though – the lamp had been placed here fairly recently then. Which meant that his group was supposed to get here in any case. So he just discovered a new location, or maybe even a plot point, Nikki smiled to himself as he descended down the stairs.

But just as his feet hit the floor, the uneasiness in his stomach returned, this time so strong and overwhelming that Nikki had to stop right where he was and spend a couple of minutes breathing in and out slowly to calm himself down. He wasn’t scared in a true definition of the term – disturbed, rather. Still really fucking unpleasant.

The feeling never went away, but Nikki persuaded himself not to pay attention to it and reached for the lamp on the floor. Its handle was smeared in something sticky, like gel or liquid soap. Nikki shook his hand in the air with disgust, then examined it in the dim light of the lamp. Something white and viscous was covering his fingers. He smelled them and immediately wiped the fingers on the rails of the stairs. It fit all the criteria to be rightfully classified as disgusting, but Nikki couldn’t say for sure what it was.

Well, he was just going to find out, he pumped himself up and carefully, almost softly stepped onto the concrete floor of the basement. Water splashed under his boots, making him wince: it sounded too loud and unnatural, could alert anyone. Who? he asked himself, but his subconscious refused to collaborate with him today: something, it responded insinuatingly.

Walking was becoming more and more difficult as Nikki advanced through the basement; when he turned his gaze down, he saw that the water was growing thick, like yoghurt, and white – just like the substance on the handle of the lamp. He waved the lamp around – everything, including the walls, was covered in this substance. It was even on the ceiling, dropping down excruciatingly slowly from the stalactites of its own creation. The smell was getting so strong Nikki feared he was going to suffocate – it stuck to every inch of his skin, covered his lungs from inside out. He could even taste it on his tongue, and the taste was even worse than the smell.

Two more steps, and Nikki stopped dead in his tracks.

He found the source of the substance. It was a clutch of eggs of enormous size: they were as big as Nikki’s head. There was a dozen of them at the very least, all coated in this substance, their shells thin and translucent. Nikki could see the silhouettes of embryos in the eggs; they looked like very big worms. Around the clutch lay two skeletons. All the bones were intact; it looked like they just lay there one day and died. A few feet away there was another corpse that might have been a rat once, only five times the size of a regular specimen; it was decaying, and Nikki could see the creature’s bones through half-digested flesh.

Shocked, he inhaled deeply and immediately started coughing – the smell was almost unbearable. He should beat it. Definitely.

He turned back.

A huge, insect-like creature was hanging from the ceiling right in front of him, its muzzle with fangs as long as Nikki’s fingers just a few inches from his face. Its numerous legs, thin and black, each ending with a claw, moved around so quickly Nikki couldn’t even imagine how many of them it had. It had many eyes, and all of them were small and white, as though blind – but Nikki was sure the creature could see him very well.

Nikki screamed.

Then he flung the lamp at the muzzle and rushed to the stairs. The lamp went out with a crunch, and Nikki hoped desperately that it hurt the creature – or at least disoriented it. The substance made it hard to run, sucking his boots in, and Nikki realized how those two skeletons died. The substance just didn’t let them go.

He could hear the rustle behind him and clicking typical for insects, but a lot louder. Every second he expected the legs of the creature to entwine him and drag him back, and then consume, slowly and painfully, like that rat. Now it will reach him. Just in a moment. The next second for sure.

Then he reached the stairs. He climbed it in three gigantic steps and slammed the door open. The rustling continued, but at least the substance was no longer stopping him. He tripped on an empty bottle and almost fell, but managed to stay on his feet and even threw the damn bottle in the creature’s direction. He heard it break, but wasn’t sure if he hit it or not. Did it matter? It wouldn’t stop the creature anyway.

He was out of the building in a few seconds, thinking feverishly, I can’t let it follow me to our shelter. I can’t endanger my friends like that. I must lead it as far away as possible, until it catches me or I collapse from exhaustion. I must-

Then he realized the rustling stopped. He dared to look back, tripped on his own feet and almost fell, but it was no longer critical. Because the creature stopped.

It stood in the shadow of the building. Every once in a while it reached out its legs towards Nikki, but when sunlight fell on them, it jerked them back with something reminding Nikki of a hiss. It dared not to cross the line between shadow and sunlight.

Oh, Nikki slowed down, eventually stopping completely, exhausted, gasping for air. Oh, it is afraid of the sun.

He almost cried in relief. As long as the sun was up, he was safe. They were safe.

But only until the night would come.