#only part of the design I don't have is the smile mask

[krashlite]

Made a Billsona!

bonus doodle under the cut BUT! Mild body horror for joints bending the wrong way

[navybrat817]

Where Did the Time Go?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.

But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.

“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.

But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?

“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”

“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”

“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”

“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”

You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.

Until you weren’t.

Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.

You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”

The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”

The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.

“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”

The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”

Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.

“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”

There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.

“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.

“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”

Not even close.

“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”

Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?

You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”

Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”

“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.

Where the hell did he get that impression?

“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”

Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”

“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”

“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”

And can we come back from it?

That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[phoenixblaze1412]

HII I'm sick 💀💀 can I get a fluffy fic where dottore and his segments all take care of u when ur sick? like they're all just so gentle with you and sweet to reader... - 🐓 anon

Aww anon I hope you get better soon!^^

You felt groggy as you made your way to the laboratory to help Dottore and his segments work. You looked at your reflection in one of the empty beakers and noticed how sickly pale you looked. Even Omega noticed how your movements were sluggish as you sorted out the documents given to you.

The segments all heard that one, single cough that you let out and in the next second, you are immediately circled around by them.

"Are you sick?" "Did you eat something bad?" "Did someone poisoned you?" "Are you feeling cold?"

The multipe questions directed your way started to suffocate you to the point that Dottore himself had to push the segments to the side just to give you some air.

"You ignorant fools! You're going to make them faint if you crowd around them!"

Dottore placed his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. You could only weakly lean away from him due to how cold his touch is.

"Darling, you have a fever. What on Teyvat were you doing that made you get it?"

You felt yourself being carried bridal style, your blurry vision can only make out the outline to the door of yours and Dottore's shared room. You let out a small whine when Dottore tucked you in bed before heading out the room.

"I'll be back soon, pet. I'm only going to grab your medicine."

You laid down in bed, a headache forming in your head as you tried to sleep it away but can't. You didn't hear the door creak open as you felt the bed dip at the new weight that appeared.

You opened your eyes to come face to face with the child and teen segments, Kappa and Eta. You noticed they were wearing a face mask with the design being the fatui symbol. The segments could only look at you in worry, their eyes staring at your pale skin, reddened eyes, and your runny nose.

You could only give them a weak smile before patting their heads in reassurance. Kappa could only whimper and hug your torso, he didn't like seeing you so weak in bed, it made him fear that you might die and leave them.

"Now now, you two. They need to take their medicine."

Eta had to pull Kappa away from you before they head out the room, Kappa whining and reaching out towards you as he didn't want to be away from you.

"You can visit them later, Kappa. Right now they need to consume their medicine and rest."

Dottore shooed the two away, closing the door before making his way towards you. You noticed he was holding a glass of water in his hand, on the other was a... pill.

"Dearest, you have to take this if you want to feel better soon."

Dottore watched as you hid yourself under the blankets, moving away from him when he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"'m gonna choke on that.."

You could only mutter a few words before your throat started to hurt more, even swallowing your own saliva was enough to make your throat hurt.

"I assure you that there is something more than a mere, tiny pill that can make you choke."

You could only groan in annoyance as you lightly punched Dottore on the shoulder for making a sexual innuendo. Dottore only chuckled in return, he placed the glass of water on the bedside table before grabbing your wrist and pulling you up.

"Come on, now. You don't want Kappa to be more sad now, do you?"

Dottore watched as you lightly glared at him, he knew you would do anything for the youngest version of himself. He clicked his tongue in annoyance when you moved your head away when he tried to push the pill in your mouth.

"If you're going to be so stubborn then you should know that you made a wrong choice in doing so."

Without you looking, Dottore placed the pill inside his mouth before grabbing your chin and pressing his lips against yours. You tried to move away but Dottore held you by your waist, preventing you from running away. You whimpered and parted your lips when you felt him nip your lower lip, his tongue entering and exploring every crevice of your mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt his tongue push something down your throat before pulling away, a string of saliva hanging from both of your lips. Dottore kept his grip on your chin as he grinned at your flustered expression.

"You better swallow that pill or else I'm giving you another one."

You obediently swallowed said pill before reaching the glass of water on the table and gulping down the contents. You winced when you felt the pill slide down your sore throat.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Dottore let out a chuckle as he kissed your forehead before turning to leave the room, making you confused.

"I need to finish my work for today, the segments will watch over you while I'm gone. But do rest, pet. Doctor's orders."

For the entire day, the segments visited you in your room and taking care of you. Omega, Theta and Iota bringing you a warm meal that could increase your recovery speed, you didn't have to know that they mixed some medicine in your food. But don't worry, they took a spoonful of it and made sure you wouldn't even taste the medicine.

Beta and Gamma switching every thirty minutes or so to change the wet cloth on your forehead. Even placing a bucket beside your bed in case you felt nauseous.

Epsilon coming by every now and then to check on your temperature and report it to Dottore.

Meanwhile Eta and Kappa can be found cuddling your figure as the three of you slept the entire afternoon. Gamma may or may not have splashed some ice cold water on the two segments when he saw them trying to press their cheeks to your lips since you would always give them cheek kisses. Epsilon and Omega had to drag the three of them out before they fight and yell in front of your sleeping figure.

After a whole day's work. Dottore went to check up on you himself, he made sure to lock the door so the others won't bother him. He placed a hand on your forehead and sighed in relief when he felt your temperature coming back to normal. He hummed and went under the blankets before pulling you close to his chest, careful not to wake you up.

"Get well soon, love."

Dottore placed a small kiss on your cheek before cuddling you and joining you in dream land.

[scarapanna]

New AU just dropped folks!!

First things first, this is a different one compared to what I teased back around september (Wanted to try and finish up the main designs/polish up some of the lore before revealing it). It's nothing that big but I have a few concepts to polish up more back there shsfsjdbj

Putting that stuff aside, here's what I got for y'all today!!

Just as a small rundown as to what's going on here: all the ancients and beasts embody their assigned virtue, not being guided by their corresponding lights but instead being said lights and guiding the cookies of earthbread.

This is a role they were baked for by the Witches, whom initially planned to have one cookie per virtue; after some trial and error, they eventually settled on it being two instead, since otherwhise there was the risk of corruption and/or a balance loss in cookie society.

The initial virtue the witches worked on was Knowledge, with it's corresponding heralds being alongside the first to have been baked.

These two are known by cookie kind as the "Heralds of knowledge", respectively being the "Representative of Truth" and "Representative of Deciet"

Starting off with Deception, and thus Shadow Milk:

Being the "bad" half of Knowledge, his purpose consists into tricking cookies trough manipulating the seemingly endless supply of information he's given trough his core (aka. the souljam), often playing into half-truths and making even the most false facts seem true. He near-constantly bears a mask, under which he's more prone to the latter.

As all heralds do, he leaves his target once the job is done.

This quality of his does not make him any malicious however, being something engrained in his being and nature, but instead an incredibly neutral being.

He decieves anyone he's encountered/consulted by, regarthless of their true intention. Thus meaning that, anyone with ill or genuine intent will be tricked by him.

Outside of his role, he can be a tiny bit mischievious at times and kind of a trouble maker, especially when it comes to cookies who believe they've become "his friend". The guy finds those types to be pretty funny.

These ""pranks"" are, once again, not inherently malicious, instead serving as a slightly annoying form of entertainment for a bored Virtue every once in a while. He views it as nothing more than innocent pestering.

But putting deception aside, it's time to discuss the "good" part of the virtue known as Truth

Unlike the other half of Knowledge, Pure Vanilla is the one (most) cookies aim to consult. As he instead shares the very same information both him and Shadow Milk hold with cookie kind, often finding himself answering questions or un-doing the work of Deciet.

He takes his role to heart, and will resort to fighting against what does not align with Truth if necessary..though he sometimes gets caught up fighting for causes that would otherwhise not involve his duty (A prominent one being the fight for Freedom, after it's herald fell from grace.)

Purpose aside, he's not as "expressive" as his counterpart, instead outwardly appearing rather unphased by most of the things he encounters. With such an exterior, he still deeply cares for those he's consulted by, and overtime grows more and more genuine with those he takes a liking to.

When this is the case, he tends to smile much more often and ask questions himself. All the information he (and Shadow Milk) know about their interlocutors is only at face value, they might know life experience but certainly don't the personality and interests of that cookie.

Deep down truth is endlessly curious, and satisfying those he encounters brings him great joy.

They do actively make eachother's jobs more difficult, but still respect one another. It IS what they were baked to do after all.

[breezybangtanbebe]

💭❤️‍🔥Boyfriend Hoseok❤️‍🔥💭

The Gentle Giant Boyfriend

Emotionally💕:

Hoseok is no stranger to attention. Everything about him, from his handsome face and healthy physique to his fashion sense and warm personality, he attracts just about anyone with eyes and a pulse. But everything was different with you.

You werent one of the typical cases fan girling over his persona or obsessing over his body parts. (something I honestly think is a big ick for him but he just tolerates it because of how much of a people pleaser he tends to be.) 

On your first date, you barely even looked at anything below his chin and held him in your eyes for most of the conversation..

"You have really pretty eyes.." you remarked, stirring your drink mindlessly with your cheek resting in the palm of your other hand.

Hoseok's mouth twitched in a tiny reluctant smile of confusion. He too toyed with the straw of his drink, mashing the ice cubes about before taking a sip.

"Um..thank you." he swallows, blinking as if he were on the brink of choking. It wasn't hard to fluster him, you picked up on that early on when you met him at that pottery class you took up as soon as the pandemic was over. Any reason to get out of that apartment that felt even smaller when you had no where else to go.

It was his eyes that caught your attention first, mainly because it was all you could see of his face since the mask mandate was still enforced. Apart from his hulking frame under his oversized hoodie and the way his massive legs made the stool he was perched on look like it was designed for a child, there was a soft innocence there when he focused his fingers on the sepia ball of clay.

When he wasn't focused, those eyes had a way of finding you on the other side of the room, looking away bashfully when you felt his stare..

Crinkling cutely when the teacher made a joke.

Widening comically when the perfectly shaped bowl he was working on collapsed into a squishy warped ball of disaster.

This went on for a few weeks before he finally worked up the nerve to sit beside you at the beginning of the next class, introducing himself. Up close, you got an even better gauge of his size.

"Good lord he must work out every day.." you thought, but its only on your mind for a second after resuming eye contact when he asked you a question.

The most gorgeous combination of browns melded in the ridges of his irises. From afar you couldn't notice but this close, you couldn't see anything but those eyes. Eyes that told so much about a man you hardly knew.

Honesty.

Joy.

Sadness.

Pain.

Soul.

It was you who asked him for his number despite him being the one to ask if he could see you again outside of class. So you did, grabbing tea and coffee at the bakery near the pottery studio.

"Youre blushing again." you smirk triumphantly and Hoseok immediately resents himself for being such an easy read. Without his mask to hide behind, you were given a full view of his face that was as equally charming as his eyes.

The colored apples of Hoseok's cheeks lift slightly as he shook his head in pure denial.

"No Im not." 

"Im looking right at you. What do you mean?" You tease and Hoseok tucks his lips against each other to fight his bodies natural response to flattery.

"Its the steam from the tea or something, I don't know.." he shakes his head again, turning his head at the bakery's door chime as a few customers walked in and you couldn't help but think it was to hide the way his blush worsened. There was no steam. He wasn’t even drinking tea so the excuse was as ridiculous as it was adorable.

It made you smile knowing he was this affected and you vaguely wondered what else your attention to detail could do.

"If you say so.."

You were different to him because you saw him in ways others didn’t. No one compliments a man’s eyes when all attention is on his body. The amount of times he caught women and men alike struggling to keep eye contact when he wore a fitted shirt that accentuated his upper body. And while he did work diligently to achieve such a body, it felt good to be seen and not just something to look at. Which in his profession,was often a feeling he faced.

Water signs tend to be very emotionally connected and Hoseok will know what youre feeling before you say anything because he's just that observant. That's just him. He can walk into a room and get a gauge of everyone's energy and while he may not show it, he's affected by it.

He appreciates a person thats similar. Someone who can tell when he's bothered or uncomfortable but too polite to express it. He appreciates someone who can anticipate his needs the way he will anticipate yours. And he absolutely would. If you like coffee in the morning and he's up before you, he puts on a pot because he knows you hate waiting for it. He'll put things within your reach without thinking about it. He’ll cover sharp corners with his hand if you bend down suddenly too near them. Just a quiet caretaker.

He's very emotionally intelligent (it took him going through ALOT to get this way) , and he too has very little patience for games or things that don't make sense. So talk to him about your feelings vs acting impulsively. Don't push him away when you're upset. He may chase you for a little while but if you're not reciprocating his energy , he'll lose interest.

Physically💋:

Very reserved in front of others because he's just polite but will hold your hand and kiss you proudly in public. He keeps it cute though, nothing outlandish.

He is the jealous type so if someone is looking at you a bit too hard, expect him to mark his territory with one of those little kisses. Or a few.

In private, He's big and warm and soft and hard all at the same damn time. Hoseok loves cuddling,prefers to be the big spoon most of the time because he feels like he's protecting you but occasionally enjoys curling his big ass into you while your massage his scalp until he falls asleep.

He's much more touchy feely. Lots of stolen kisses and booty grabs. Although I predict that you'd be most inclined to want to touch him all day because...well. Look at him🌚

It was a day worth shutting the world out for. Raining and relentless. Plans were cancelled ,alarms were snoozed and clothes were optional at Hoseok's apartment.

Its been several months since that day in the bakery and those routine meet ups next door to the pottery class evolved into evenings spent at his place. He'd been to yours plenty but you preferred being with him at his because his felt more comfortable. 

Plus he had all the snacks.

The morning light creeped its way despite the sun being hidden and the bed felt much too big when he wasn't in it. So after pulling on one of his t-shirts and slipping into his bathroom to freshen up, you were relieved to find the object of your desire in the kitchen.

He's shirtless with his magnificent back on display for you as you watched him busy with something on the counter. His hair was wild, sticking up in all directions and his pajama pants hung just low enough on his hips for those two delicious dimples to be visible.

You stepped silently over the warm wood floors, one bare foot after the other until you were creeping up behind him.

Hoseok flinched a little when you snaked your arms around his waist but he soon relaxes at the feel of your lips pressing against the middle of his back.

"Hi.." you grumble against his warmth, skimming the tip of your nose over his skin. Hoseok chuckles softly as one of his hands covers your two that clasp below his naval.

"Morning. Did I wake you?" He looks over his shoulder and you shake your head, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.

"Just missed you." You respond sleepily and the sound of it has him chuckling softly.

"Ive been up for less than ten minutes.." he chides and you shrug.

"10 minutes too long. I got cold. What are you doing anyway? I thought you had nothing to do today." You mumble, peaking around his body to spot him organizing several different types of capsules into little baggies.

"Im putting my supplements together for when I go out of town next week."

"Oh yeah.." you say. You return to nuzzling his muscular back, settling in the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades with a solemn sigh.

Detecting you sulking, Hoseok takes one of your hands and pries it from his tummy to lift towards his face.

"Its just a few days. Don't pout, big baby.."

A gentle kiss to your knuckles was all it took to send a tingle through your body, making you tighten the back hug you had him in . Your affection evolves due to an intrusive thought and you accentuate the embrace with an unexpected bite of his flesh. Your teeth pinch a healthy bit of skin between them and you pull back on the release.

His yelp makes you snicker evilly and you soothed the faint toothmarks with a few kisses before pulling away from him.

"Look who's talking.." you tease.

He didn't appreciate the way the temperature changed the moment you weren't touching him and he turns around, spotting you leaning against the kitchen island. This had to have been the moment he realized you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt, noting the stiffness of your nipples poking through the fabric.

His gaze drops from your breasts to your shapely thighs that were unsubtly pressing against each other.

With a sultry look in your eye, you smirked up at him as you hopped up on the marble countertop and spread your legs just enough to hint at your lack of panties. Not that any hint was needed.

If you had any on, it wouldn't be for long.

Sexually💦:

Hoseok seems like a massive giver. So he's not at all a selfish lover. Whatever your satisfaction requires, he's pretty open to it if its not uncomfortable. If any kinks, I could see some bondage or food play. Maybe some sensory deprivation. Hes not afraid of toys at all. I actually imagine him owning some of his own for his solo sessions.🌚

Not super dommy. If anything, he's a switch (both dom and sub depending on the mood). When he's the dom, he teases your body alot with whatever he has at his disposal.

He praises you heavily and rewards you. Would much rather do that than punish you, but if he has to, he confirms that all of those muscles aren't just for show. He'll never hurt you though, thats actually one of his worst fears so don't expect him to get TOO TOO rough. Some hard slaps on the ass and a hand around the throat might be aa far as he'll go with you. Even then, hes very careful.

As a sub, he's very bratty and mischievous. He wants the punishment 100%. He wants you to talk shit, scold him, pull his hair a little. He wants you to make him feel small even though hes literally a hulk. Some orgasm denial would drive him crazy. But once you finally let him cum, put as much into the aftercare as he would for you. Talk to him nice and touch him alot. Slow Kisses with lots of tongue.

He's an ass man. Touching your booty actually brings him some sort of comfort, like a human stress ball. In the morning, its customary for him to rub yours for at least a minute when he greets you. He probably enjoys eating you out from the back so he doesn't have to waste time bending you over after. I also think he's most attracted to thick women🌚. He just gives me that vibe.

Large hands grip your ass underneath the tshirt,holding you up with your legs wrapped around him as he walked you back to the bedroom.

Your lips suckle his bottom lip, making him groan and squeeze you when you lips finally part to invite him in. Hoseok wasn't a sloppy kisser by far, always intentional with each stroke of his tongue and little nibble of your lips. He's passionate and most dominant when his tongue needled its way in and massaged yours.

You let him in gladly, earning a grateful sigh from him as you sucked his tongue greedily.

That always turned him on and you simulated the way you planned to suck him off by bobbing your head slowly, slurping his tongue loudly and shamelessly until it's too much for him.

You giggled when he tossed you on the bed, bouncing against the fluffy white comforter as he climbed on top of you. He cages you under the canopy of his huge body and doesn't hesitate to snatch his t-shirt from your body.

Now that he had you naked again, his lips found every place begging to be kissed.

Your neck.

Your nipples.

That spot just below your breast.

With both of your hands trapped under his above your head, Hoseok teased your body with his tongue until your back was arching from the bed.

He was kissing a trail down from your naval to the mound of stubbly skin of your pelvis. You felt you needed to shave but Hoseok didn't give a damn about some hair. In some ways he preferred it because he could smell you so much better that way.

His chin grazes your clit and making you twitch, making him smile against your skin.

"That sensitive huh? What am I gonna do with you?" He teases, moving down to hold you at your hips. You lift up just in time to watch his tongue extend and flick a few times over the throbbing nub before sucking on it obscenely hard.

You called his name again but he ignores you, simply combining flicking and sucking on your clit in favor of paying you any mind.

Seems as though he had his mouth set on your pussy for breakfast from how he alternated between sucking your clit and tonguing at your hole.

He knew what he was doing and you could keep your composure anymore. Damn his neighbors, they would just have to hear you.

Your hand found its way to his messy bed head, tugging at the strands from the scalp. He moans with his lips wrapped around you, the vibration of his tone making your legs shake.

Without warning, Hoseok pulls away from your heat and pulls you up by your arm. He grabs you by the neck gently to kiss you as he was before. But instead of him tasting like mouth wash and strawberry yogurt, he tasted like you.

With your legs spread wide enough to fit his huge frame, you hooked them over his hips to lock him in place. He chuckles at the desperation he felt on your lips, guiding you down to lay on your back one more.

"What baby...what it is it?" He asks, eyes black as night on yours. Long gone were those innocent eyes you'd fallen for at first.

Hoseok reached between your bodies to pick up where he left off, strumming over you back and forth.

Back and forth.

Your mouth gaped in a gasp when he upped the pace, rubbing you so good that you were sure you'd cum any second.

"Baby..please yess yess yess.." you cry and Hoseok kissed your trembling lips casually.

"Feels good?" He asks and you hum in response.

"More?" He lifts his brow.

"More..more.."you pant, now gripping the hair at his nape. With that, his fingers slipped inside of you, fucking you slowly as his tongue found yours. You moaned senselessly amidst kissing and Hoseok only took that as you begging for his fingers to go deeper.

"Is this what you want, baby? Hmm? Want me to suck on this pretty pussy some more? Wanna cum on my tongue like you did last night?" He mumbles, planting another wet pussy flavored kiss on your lips as he awaited your response.

"Please.." you shudder, too lost in the way his fingers went back to toying with your clit to kiss him back properly.

But this was how he wanted you anyway and he was only getting started.

Love Language:

I believe our big boy is a Gift giver/receiver and Physical touch. The gifts don't have to be expensive (even though he will for sure spend his monies on his gifts he gives you), it just matters to him that you know what he likes and that you're thinking of him. And touch on that man. Big boys need love too.

Quality time is big for him as well. He just wants you around. It doesn't have to be for any specific reason. Just be there and exist with him.

Pet names/Terms of endearment:

Calls you his baby or his world. Not much in between. He's very playful and light hearted so you might be his brat or headache from time to time, but takes his relationships very seriously. You don't have worry about any fear of commitment with him. Once he's locked in, you've got him.

So dont hurt him please🥹 He's very soft hearted.

<The other Boyfriends >

[missycolorful]

It's important to remember that the Antarctic Empire, and therefore SMP Earth, is essentially canon to QSMP. (as far as I'm aware) (it definitely will be for this post, so shhh)

Think about all the destruction, mayhem, and cruel things Philza did on SMPE. How nothing held him back. He committed so many war crimes with a damn smile on his face. As part of the Antarctic Empire, he took over the world.

And if SMP Earth Philza is also q!Philza, then it's interesting to see how much has changed since the old days. How, before being thrust into Purgatory, he's been chill and minding his own business. Never really got into conflicts, never caused mayhem or destruction. The only exceptions are two occasions: a) when he returned to the eggs being missing, and he lava casted the Presidential Building, and b) at the Guy Fawkes event.

(Which as I'm typing this I'm realizing. The Guy Fawkes day was an event set the day before things went to hell. An event designed to create mass destruction. An event in which the capybaras gave Philza all the power and control, to blow up with so many stacks of TNT. and Philza fucking loved it. Perhaps to just give us a taste of what's to come.)

But anyway! Philza hasn't really delved into chaos on this server all that much. And even in the beginning of Purgatory, what he has been saying about the Red Team being underdogs is true. They weren't off to a great start; the first day and a half were hell! And yes, he only killed in self defense. He didn't trust the eye worth shit. And of course, he didn't want to hurt anyone. And I'm sure that is still true.

But as time as gone on, as the days have passed, the underdog statement just isn't the case now, as they've embraced what has made them strong, even if they are lacking in other places (i.e. not a lot of PVP players, no enchanted equipment). And they've done some questionable stuff. The situation with q!Rivers, for example. And also one I don't see mentioned which, I think was Day 8? When Phil just. Stole a saddle and a stack of potatoes from Blue Team's base while he was taking/replanting their crops. But still, Philza wants to justify these actions. "It's the bolas way." "it was for a quest" "we did this cause this." He wants to believe that what he's doing isn't bad, because he's just trying to survive in purgatory, right? Philza is a survivalist, this is how he survives.

Then we had today, where Philza's intense gameplay shined. He fought so many people in PVP, didn't even take a second to hold back, used his impressive minecraft skills to work his way to Green's base, and he killed the statue. He went wild today. Just imagine, Philza, wearing the Bolas gas mask, descending upon you with a sword, with no mercy. No, not just Philza, but the Angel of Death.

I think this is what Purgatory wants out of him. Right? Because clearly, Purgatory wants to bring the worst out of everyone.

I also think the reason that q!Phil tries to justify so much of his actions isn't simply ruled as hypocrisy (though it's a bit, in a way) or, in meta, born from self deprecation. No, there's something more to it.

It's because Philza does not want to be corrupted by Purgatory. He refuses to accept that it's dragging him to a dark place. A familiar place, even. I genuinely believe that Philza simply does not want to be like how he was all those years ago. Destructive and cruel. He doesn't want to go back. He's not like that anymore. He's a better person now. He doesn't want to hurt people, and I absolutely believe that. That's different, though, than saying I won't.

[wigglesdtuff]

Hi sorry for sending another ask but I found out I'm super close to the TimeSkip (from one Robin lover to the other robin lover) and I seriously (i did theres no hiding it) wanted to burst into tears when I saw robin (and ussop- he made me upset to) please tell me how to get used to it or if I'll get used to it :,(

Oh you have come to the right place for I dearly love her timeskip design. It was admittedly jarring in the anime (the style shift alone is jarring. The manga eases you in more as the style is still consistent) and it did take me a little while to get used to her new design, but the more I thought about it and the more we see her interact it settled in and made me fall even further in love tbh. A lot of it comes from the skin color (for everyone really), the colors the anime veers toward and the lighting for a big stretch is just. Not great. The skin color has been discussed ad nauseum at this point, so I'm not touching on that. You can see where I stand on that with the way I color her. NOW. I will ramble. I will try not to spoil.

The big thing is her lack of bangs. Bangs are so cute we love her old look, no one is saying they don't. However. To me it is a really great bit of visual storytelling. She is quite literally healing from her past. Her face is softer, less harsh, and she isn't trying to cover anything up anymore. She's no longer wearing the same hairstyle she did since she was frozen at 8 years old. She's let it grow out! Quite literally she is a new person since Luffy saved her life.

Fishman Island alone shows just how comfortable she is. Robin is often shown in the background in a lot of panels or scenes just smiling with a 💬 because she's just. Content and enjoying observing the Straw Hats after those two years apart.

Her hair is so cute to me because it's actually slightly different each arc post TS, as if she's purposefully trying out new styles. Nami does this too, and to me it really helps cement that time is passing and they're not just wearing the same outfit day in and day out.

The biggest thing to me is her willingness to openly emote. It is very VERY clear that she is being influenced by the rest of the crew, and it's very endearing. She has always been silly, but she's had to lock that part of her away because she's been isolated and hunted like a dog. She's safe now and she knows it! In short, Post Timeskip Robin is this poor 30 year old finally getting to be herself, and besides just being gorgeous, I think that freedom to be what she wants instead of masking or hiding is beautiful!

In summary: Yes it's an adjustment and no it's not for everyone, and admittedly the anime style (from Fishman Island up until Wano) gets pretty bad especially with women, HOWEVER, it's good visual storytelling to show just how much Luffy has actually changed her life for the better.

I'll reblog with some more photos I'm only allowed 10.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Villain's Coffee Shop part 6

Warnings: bleeding out, gravely injured Villain, stab wounds, corrupt Superhero

"Now you know why I spent my days fighting people like you," Villain snorted bitterly. "It's the only way I can make enough to stay off the streets and survive. By stealing and killing."

Hero's gaze grew distant, thoughtful, before there was a sudden flash of furry motion off to Hero's left that sent her springing from the chair, daggers in hand ready to attack the threat.

"Wait! Don't hurt him!" Villain barked frantically.

"'Him'?!" Hero squawked, but his words made her hesitate long enough to realize that it was... literally just a cat. Embarrassment flushed Hero's face as she sheathed her blades and sat back down. She stared at the scruffy cat, which had black fur... and it was missing a whole front leg, along with a large chunk of one ear.

Hero gawked at the feline as he bunched his hind legs and hopped up onto the table next to the couch, giving her a quizzical look. "You have... a three-legged cat. I am both surprised and somehow unsurprised at the same time."

"Somebody has to adopt the unwanted critter," Villain shrugged. "Like me. Unwanted. Only I'm not adoptable," he added quickly when he saw Hero winding up to make a snarky joke about it. "His name is Mocha."

"Seriously? You named it after a caffeine drink?"

"It's a cat that lives in a coffee shop, Hero. Mocha is an appropriate name," Villain argued defensively. "Apparently Mocha got into a fight with a loose dog, and no one wanted to adopt a mangled cat, let alone one that also had black fur. They're often considered bad luck. But I took him before he could be euthanized."

"That's... actually kind of sweet of you," Hero said, gently stroking the cat's head. Mocha purred loudly, an oddly raspy kind of purr like a broken motor, and climbed into her lap, kneading her leather suit with his remaining front paw and arching his back happily.

"Mocha is the sweetest cat you will ever find, you just have to look past all the scarring." Hero was taken aback by the fondness in Villain's face as he reached a weak, trembling hand toward Mocha, who instantly abandoned Hero to hop onto the couch and settle down on Villain's chest instead, still purring madly.

Villain sighed heavily, petting Mocha's curled-up form gently. Hero would have never guessed him to be capable of kindness, given his violent reputation.

"...Would you be willing to consider switching sides?" Hero asked softly. "Be a hero instead of a villain like you are now?"

Villain's eyes darted over to her, surprised. "I'm pretty sure it's too late for that," he rasped quietly. "I've killed too many people. I'm not worth your time."

"Maybe so," Hero agreed solemnly, "but you can always give it a try. I have connections, I could get you on our Hero team where you can use your powers to save lives instead of take them. And you wouldn't have to show anyone your face, either. We can design you a new mask." She bit her lip nervously. "...It's up to you in the end, but I get the feeling you've got a lot more good inside you than you're willing to admit." She put a reassuring hand on Villain's shoulder, and he flinched hard, disturbing Mocha who meowed in protest before settling again.

"Just... think about it for awhile, Villain. Can you promise me that?" Hero glanced around and snatched up a notepad and pen, scribbling something down and tearing off a page to hand to Villain. "This is my personal number if... you'd like to reach out." Villain stared numbly at the paper in his hand.

A chance. He'd said he'd needed a chance. Just one. And now he held that chance on a thin piece of paper. "...Thank you," he murmured after a brief hesitation. "And not just for this, I mean for... listening, I guess, and saving my life." Villain cleared his throat awkwardly, fumbling over his words.

But Hero smiled playfully, standing up and ruffling Villain's hair. "I look forward to hearing from you."

Villain scowled and ran a hand through his hair to flatten it back down. "I'll let that slide because I'm in so much pain I can barely think straight, but try that again when I'm at full-strength, and I'll destroy you," he grouched.

Hero laughed as she headed toward the back door. "Heal up, Villain, and then we have work to do."

Villain smiled faintly at Hero's back as she left, darkness in his gaze. Oh, he had work to do indeed… Hero was in way over her head dealing with him. He grinned down at Mocha, who affectionately nuzzled into his hand. “What do you say, Mocha? Should I cause some trouble?”

---The current, ominous end.

UPDATE: due to popular demand, I continued this storyline further!

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@federthenotsogreat @everynameistakencarrots

[cablyunkataplum]

Spider tag

Hobie Brown x Fem!/Pronouns Reader

Words: 3,093

Summary: When your favorite spiders are in your dimension they take the opportunity to have a good time, including Hobie.

Written Curse: Second person!--Use of (__)!--(__) and her dimension is written to appeal to art nouveau--Hey guys, guess who's my fav character, es mi cumple así que voy a andar aventando verga See ya Darlings!

The morning so impassive cradled caressed against everything it touched, within the pleasant walls of a peculiar house that is related with exquisiteness to its sisters in such a graceful way, sheltered the young woman who rested placidly, the only thing you were able to hear was the movement of water and wind that flowed and aimlessly gave life to the city.

When you noticed more activity your eyelids allowed you to see your familiar surroundings and without any hurry you separated from the bed, your feet on the cold floor woke you up completly when you went to the small closet next to it. With all the care you put the clothes aside until you reached your suit that as you brushed it with your fingers a certain impatience ran through you but you disregarded it as you put it away in one of the bags that hung on one of the legs of the bed that you used to use as a coat rack. Putting each of the clothes in its place and arranging the room as much as possible, you went out.

The clacking of shoes against the stairs announced your presence in the dining room where your mother and father were having breakfast --Good morning-- mom spoke first who was already serving food on the plate designated for you, with the same phrase you kissed her head and her hand to do the same with your father and immediately sit down to eat. During this time the conversations were short and even banal, but they were always better than what had once been the family dynamic. With touches of the napkin to your mouth to wipe away remnants of what might have been left behind, they both asked about what plans you had today; who you would be seeing, where, how many hours you would be gone, things of that nature. Your already improvised answers were enough for them as they nodded in approval, other words were exchanged until you finished your plate and excused yourself.

In the HQ cafeteria, they were already there, all the seats were taken so they stood around waiting for you to arrive, each with their respective outfits plus backpacks or bags containing a change of clothes. Meanwhile, Miles made sure they brought with them anything he considered important --Keys?-- he pointed to Pavitr who affirmed, then to Hobie who just slumped his shoulders and muttered --Yeah-- with this he pointed to Gwen who confirmed she had her keys and a copy of Hobie's. Although the boy wouldn't admit it because he wasn't aware of it, in this area he was similar to Rio and Jeff. Now calmer he proceeded with his mental list but Gwen interrupted him --Miles, it's okay we don't need that much stuff-- Pavitr continued --It's the dimension of (__) after all-- he tapped the other's shoulder. With the mask on, his lenses widened for a second in reaction to them not taking it as seriously as he did, in his own experience going to their dimensions there was always something unexpected going on. He crossed his arms and flexed one hand, --Sorry to be cautious--, --Don't apologize mom-- Hobie replied waving his hand which annoyed Miles slightly.

He sighed and removed the mask that wrapped around his head to be next to the boys, --Say what you want, you'll be thanking me later--, he smiled to himself, --Whatever you say-- Gwen rolled her eyes. Part of this unfolded with you as a spectator until you decided to intervene, --I hope I wasn't too late to be early-- you got close enough to be heard. They turned in your direction and Hobie didn't waste a moment to approach you, placing his hands on your waist, with a smile he greeted you and their lips met with the same sweetness of many other occasions, with one of your hands on his jaw, --Hello to you too (__)-- Pavitr approached shaking his hand --And don't worry, it's not like we were 30 minutes early-- the pair right behind him. At this you separated from the boy to greet the others by clapping your palms together, your eyes fell on the backpacks --What do you have there?-- as you asked this question all eyes pointed to Miles who just clarified; it was all they needed.

You pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows --Okay-- your wrist was raised close to you to see well what you were typing --Then I won't make you wait any longer-- the portal then appeared a few meters away from you, Hobie went first, Gwen second, you third until the only ones still there were Pavitr and Miles --Let's go mom-- Pavitr tried not to let his amused tone be heard too much and entered the portal to close as Miles entered too.

Earth 831

The roof of a building, for the moment, was the ground on which they stand, as they pass and reach the dimension Morales' eyes widen at the visuals of what surrounds him as does its melodic singing. With a turn, he feels his eyes open even wider as he witnesses such an ethereal panorama, as his mind can put into words.

The canals surround the city and cross through it to carry its vitality everywhere, they intertwine with the plants and buildings so much that everything seems to be in motion thanks to the delicate curves that facilitate the passage of the crystalline water that reflects everything as a mirror and adds its bluish tone to the infrastructure with its waves, thus a duality is created; the movement and the static. Homes, workplaces, schools; everything blends and stands out in its own way.

--Wow-- sighs the spider with admiring eyes, a genuine smile at his amazement forms on your lips with a feeling of appreciation but also amusement at the reaction, --Let's give Miles a moment before he passes out or worse-- you tease. Miles rolls his eyes with a slight snort and a smile similar to yours, he raises his hands in defense at the comment before responding matching your tone --Haha, I feel the pressure drop and my heartbeat is already nil-- he rubs his hands together and sparks escape from them --I hope you know CPR--.

The others smile, Gwen shakes her head reproachfully even if the smile gives her away while Pavitr nods at the speed of his counterattack. Hobie just grimaces with the smile still present --Not bad-- you nod as well and your arms flex so that it's possible to put your hands on your hips --Well… What do you want to do? I have something in mind but I'm willing to listen to opinions-- everyone gathers to form a circle, think for a moment and give their ideas to do in the rest of the day to discuss and choose by majority vote.

So, they shed their suits for civilian clothes, descended from the building and set out to make the most of the time. The sky was inked with soft fire with its palliated sun glints reflecting off the stream and resting on whatever they could reach, again on a rooftop, the group resting after having had a busy day.

Their chests expand and contract with ease, some with their eyes open to look above them and those that remain with their eyelids covering them. Pavitr moves his field of vision so he can see you as far as his position allows him to do so --what did you have in mind after all? Sure, if we didn't already do it-- at this you arch your eyebrow somewhat confused at his question until it comes to your mind what you mentioned hours ago, a grimace on your face --Do you really remember that?-- when you see him, he mutters in affirmation --I have a good memory-- he rotates so that his forehead rests on the ceiling, Gwen intervenes in the conversation --You don't-- he pushes the boy slightly --Yes I do-- he replies back with mock annoyance.

--Only when you want-- Hobie also speaks, hand on his chest and the other under his head with a nonchalant countenance, Pavitr snorts, --You're against me?-- he tilts his head and leans down so his face meets the other's --It was a compliment-- he puts his hand against the boy's face and pushes it which makes Pavitr snort --Sure, pick on the younger spidey-- you all grunt and snort with complaints until you mimic Pavitr's position --Well… it's nothing we did, it's good timing anyway--- you squat down to propel your legs and stand --Get up-- at this another round of complaints passes.

Seeing that the others don't even make an attempt you roll your eyes --Really?-- you scratch your head for a second --So be it-- as fast as you can you touch Miles --Tag, you're it-- and run out to jump --Loser buys the food-- and with that you throw a web, suit already on in the time lapse of the jump. The others are surprised but waste no time in darting off in all directions, Miles just sighs and rubs his eyelids but a feeling of competitiveness comes over him, he wouldn't spend a penny today.

Like a swing you move through the city without looking back but your senses alert in case you need to, after another spider web you stick to a building and breathe for a few minutes. This doesn't last too long when some steps warn you of the presence of someone and you turn around, hand ready to throw webs --Hey, hey, I'm a friend not foe-- Hobie tries to approach you but you squint your eyes showing you don't trust him --I would have done something by now, wouldn't I?-- you slowly lower your hand and turn around to see if there is no danger nearby --Did anyone follow you?-- he denies with words and movements, he walks to your side and his hand grabs yours pulling it to kiss it with affection --I'm too stealthy, I sneak away from capitalism to do whatever I want-- your head rises as well as your eyebrows --Ah, cool-- you pretend indifference although inside you have always found it funny and even interesting how out of nowhere he can make comments like that.

This one smiles and with his hip gives you a shove with which you stagger. Without being able to do anything, a spider web lands on the wall of the building that makes you turn to see who is responsible for this, Miles lands on the same wall and without waste, he uses his muscles to touch one of you. With a somersault you evade him and so begins a three-way waltz thanks to the game.

--Come on guys--Miles laughs, unable to hide the frustration of not having touched either of you to escape the probable responsibility, he continues in this way but in an unexpected turn of events Mile touches Hobie, there is no time to think, now you and Miles must get as far away as possible knowing that he will come after you if Gwen or Pavitr are not on the radar. With the webs you fling yourself and pray they won't come after you, but you remember the rules and it's clear he'll come after you because he already is.

An irregular route is attempted to disappear from your gaze and it is decided, back and forth, left or right until you turn and it is gone, well, for now you turn a corner with a new web when another one intertwines with yours and you meet Hobie once again, as the twisted chains of a swing are encircled with twists and turns. A short moment where you can see each other's eyes through the contact lenses, where your costumes undergo color changes by the light and everything stops as photography, you only exist for and in this precise instant. Until their bodies begin to approach attracted by a centripetal force.

But this doesn't stop the Spider from tapping you on the shoulder with a 'Tag, you're it-- to break free from the web and escape into another one. With your head down you curse and recover, clearly this will not stay like this. You jump from one building to another, looking for the others with a hawk's eye and as if the universe orchestrated it; Miles, Pavitr and Gwen appeared in the field. Going in their direction you make a decision on who to go to, Gwen, but apparently the thing would not be so simple because when you are less than 30 centimeters away from her something sticks to you and prevents you from moving forward.

And this same thing pulls you in its direction, when your eyes fall with the person in charge you shout --Cheater!-- Hobie doesn't say anything and only continues with the back and forth without preventing you from any action, a snort leaves your nose and you get ready to continue. In such a way things develop like this; everyone dodging and evading the one who brings them, Hobie from time to time pulling the others either to save them or to have his henchman moment by 'helping' the other, cobwebs everywhere, accusations, provocations, there is nothing you don't try.

Finally, hours later, everyone comes to an agreement to finish without a loser.

--Your money isn't worth here anyway--You mention as they all walk away, --The one I saved myself from-- you shake your head trying not to burst out laughing at their faces of realization, it's true, their money won't work in another universe. --Cheater-- they talk at the same time and mess with your hair-- --Hey!Hey!-- you shove their hands away --It's not my fault you didn't remember, the only one I should apologize to is Miles-- You continue walking until you reach the store, you let them in before following them. Ready to order they spend the afternoon talking.

The key secures the lock and with a check you separate yourself from the door, walk to the living room and greet your parents for the second time that day, also with the purpose of notifying them of your upcoming rest. Climbing step after step you try to keep a pace that is taken as calm, the door opens and having a guest inside the room you are saved, however, such a visit does not last as long as usual, the curtains are inflated to shelter anything that could succumb to the force of the wind and lonely longing for the presence they serve.

You walk carelessly in the confines of the vast lake with your partner's company, the noise of the city becomes mere muffled whispers and the thin light is more than enough to see where you step. Hobie moves his gaze at times to see you or settles for your figure in his peripheral view, but he doesn't stop moving forward, thus going unnoticed as he pulls something out of his pocket --(__)-- catches your attention and seeing you stop does the same until you are even, his hand covers the object but not by much.

Your eyes fall to his hand which like a cocoon he opens to reveal a sweet gift; an arachnid shaped pendant made of what appears to be gemstone with aquamarine tones and whitish sparkles. Copper legs with pearly decorations that mimic the fur that some of these animals have, a few cracks visible in all this, likewise, protruding from the mouth of the spider hangs porcelain spider web.

--I tried to glue it on as best I could-- he confesses in that voice of nights of effort, --But clearly it won't go back to the original thing-- with a sensitive touch you pick up the earring to examine it closely and those breaks only add to the delicate effect. Without a second thought you dangle it from your ear and smile, shaking your head so he can see your profile, your hand curved in your ear, --So?--, --it looks spectacular-- he runs a finger down your cheek and swings the chandelier with it. You get caught up in the moment, mischievously grab each other and pull until you're holding on with just one hand.

Faced with spontaneity, you let yourselves be carried away by a dance at the same point of the lake. Repelling each other for an instant you shoot a spider web that catches on one of the trees on the other side to cling to a closer one, so a rope hangs over the body of water and you climb it with a few acrobatics until you are in the middle. Hobie doesn't lag behind and throws his own perpendicularly, climbing more aggressively and safely with an exchange of smiles they weave and with calculated jumps begin to knit, each perceived vibration causing the material to flash, linking one to the other or directing so that a pattern builds.

With a leap Hobie grabs you to continue the dance as they put the finishing touches on the fine lace and unhurriedly roll around the net. With the work completed, you center yourselves to lie down and snuggle against your figures, a few minutes pass with the comfortable silence where the calm invites you to fall into surrender. The boy's embrace as an addition. --You fooled us all-- he tries to sound incriminating but his voice comes out completely amused and you decide to play along --I have my methods-- you put on an overbearing attitude and look at your nails --Mmm, it shows-- he rests his cheek on the palm of your hand and with the other hand he pokes your rib --You better not become a dictator or similar because I will crush your head-- now he opens his hand and grabs your face shaking it, you both laugh and roll your eyes.

He leans down and crosses his legs --Why tag?-- squint your shoulders and tilt your head --Why not?-- Hobie is slow to show his reaction but just laughs sarcastically --Sure-- he leans down even more until your foreheads touch and they fall back into silence, treasuring this day without thinking about the future even for a single second even. And it feels as if the web is wrapping and caressing them to protect them from any suffering, past or yet to pass so that hope and love will prevail, a second, an instant, so ephemeral and so infinite.

[thedragonchilde]

Going back and making notes for the first dozen episodes, since I downloaded the series! Here I have 1-6

"Gundam Fight Begins! The Gundam That Fell to Earth"

-some prime worldbuilding opportunities already!

-Domon’s first smile of the series is toward a child :)

-I wish we'd gotten more of Rain’s gadgets

-if these kids lost their parents in the last Gundam Fight, Sophia would've had to be just a baby. These boys raised a baby!

-we never get more on how the KoH title (and by extension the rest of the Shuffle Alliance) is actually known to belong to an elite fighter

-it's a shame that Michelo is such a hate sink because he's regrettably quite fashionable

"Roar of the Winning Punch"

-second episode, second instance of Domon in a bar. Is that whiskey?

-when the hell did he have time for 100 bouts? Even if you fudged his age, that doesn't make sense. They have to be counting practice or something

-Chibodee does NOT take embarrassment well

-and this is why they're rivals - that was a solid punch!

-ah, the shady government officials, who assassinate rival fighters and… hypnotize/brainwash people?

-little Chibodee!

-why is Mount Rushmore on the colony?

-the phallic sword positioning makes its debut

-”we'll eliminate you as well!” Damn, okay

-how can she know what Domon's suit-up sequence looks like and call Chibodee the showoff

-“Oh yeah”

-”why don't you just finish me off/I bet you pity me/my dream is now over” shit, the “Star of Hope” isn't very optimistic, though I guess that appellation was given to him to live up to rather than him choosing it

-he doesn't get why the crowd is encouraging him, let alone Domon. Oh honey

-”you're one of the good guys” hee :)

"Beat the Dragon Gundam"

-Sai, why are you sleeping in the road

-you little shit

-lol Chinese Gundams and water

-there's a lot of moving parts in this plot so I feel like I don't have much to say

-besides various versions of “you little shit”

-a draw! Nice to see Domon not winning handily

"Challenge! The Red Rose Knight!"

-They actually designed a Sand family crest

-ah, early installment weirdness, Raymond (or his lookalike) is with the princess

-DAMMIT DOMON

-is George psychically interfacing with his Gundam? Like, he's not in it, and he doesn't have a remote. Voice activation? And he's able to stand on it while it's moving, that's some A+ balance

-what is that bottle? Booze again?

-is he gently shooting her down or is he just oblivious? Probably the latter, since he's confused that she didn't want to listen to him wax poetic about his Gundam

-Marie-Louise how did you come up with this

-okay Domon going along with the plan is actually pretty funny

-who makes a toilet with an outside lock

-”I see nothing before me with the exception of this man” das gay

-he's not going to finish you, George, because that would mean you'd let go of the tower

-the French in that letter actually kind of sucked. And with @amplexadversary's headcanon that Domon is a polyglot, I wonder if he theoretically could have written it

"Great Escape! A Captive Gundam Fighter"

-“Why are there names of countries on this?” How do you know how to read Japanese?

-oh, this will be a huge scandal when it gets out

-for someone his size, Argo is quick as hell, being able to knock Domon out of the sniper's way

-okay, is Nastasha military or law enforcement?

-the eternal question: are suit-ups usually like this and just truncated for time, or is it only that difficult for Domon?

-Nastasha is a little turned on by being talked back to

-is it an asylum or a prison??

"Fight, Domon! Earth is the Ring"

-Kyoji shows more outright attraction to Rain than Domon does :P

-Domon gushing about Master is adorable

-saved by the mom! I'm guessing Domon didn't want to talk about the science stuff he could never get into

-so the finger snap activation is a Kasshu trait

-more early installment weirdness, with evil!Karato and an alternate explanation for Ulube’s mask

[ickyarson777]

Many Eyed Vessel Fic Thing??? Chapter Two

If y'all have any suggestions on a name for this series, let me know and I'll do a poll if I get enough suggestions!!

Chapter 1, 2

That being said, here's chapter two. I don't know quite what I think about this one.

Word count: 2,889

Content warnings: maybe a little dread? it's not particularly scary tho

After my experience in the forest that day, I decided to return to the small, single motel in the tiny town where I was renting a room. I decided to lie down and take a nap. It was about 2 in the afternoon when I had fallen asleep, and I woke to see darkness crawling in through the window, glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, I saw that it was 9 o’clock and sighed heavily. 

’Managed to sleep through the whole day,’ I think to myself. 

I slide out of bed and pull on some clothes. My stomach is growling and I decide that I should go and try to find some food. Surely, there’s a restaurant or two that’s still open. I pull on my shoes, grab my bag, and walk out of the motel, walking down the street towards the restaurants. I knew walking alone at night was dangerous, but I prided myself on the knowledge of how feral I’d act if anyone approached me, knowing they’d be twice as quick to get away from me. 

I hummed to myself as I walked down the street and glanced sideways as I passed an alleyway. Just in the corner of my eye, I see him, the man from the woods. A blur, almost entirely hidden in shadows save for the bright white and red of his mask. I do a double take and whip my head back around, he’s not there. I pause for a moment, listening. Surely, if he was there I’d still hear distant shuffling in the alleyway. I don’t. Instead, part of me believes I hear a voice. I can’t hear the words, I can’t tell if it’s speaking or singing, but it sounds like the man. Or does it? 

I hesitate, glancing back down the street and taking a deep breath before stepping into the alleyway, choosing to follow after the man, to see if I can get some answers. 

I take quick steps, rounding the corner and catching a small glimpse of him again, turning around the corner of a building, his cloak billowing after him, tracing his movements. I followed silently, not paying attention to the fact that we were slowly walking back towards the forest. 

I don’t realize this until I’m on the edge of the concrete, the roots of trees digging into the rough stone. I see him, in the distance. But he looks.. odd. He stands there, but it's like his appearance is flickering. I decide it must be the darkness playing tricks on my eyes, and take a step forward. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” says a voice somewhere to my left. 

I gasped and turned, searching for the one who spoke. Luckily, this guy stuck out like a sore thumb. Tall and thin, shoulder-length hair, colored bright red. He wore a long-sleeved shirt that was covered in colorful designs and a long black hooded vest over it. His pants were black but only stretched down to the middle of his shins, where long checkered socks met the edge of his pants. He wore a mask as well, gold, save for the area around his mouth, which was black and gave the impression that his lips had been crudely sewn together, but not shut in a creepy open-mouthed smile. In clean white lines, the same sigil that the other man had on his mask was painted across his face. I could see his eyes, shining greenish blue in the darkness.

“That’s not who you think it might be, love.” He spoke with a thick Cockney accent. “That’s another one of our monsters, trying to kill you.”

I stare at him, wide-eyed, and glance back at the first man, seeing that the form was flickering and changing much more now. I could see more clearly that it was indeed, something else entirely. I could see the figure, now hovering slightly above the ground, much taller than it should’ve been. Its legs were heavily muscled and ended in hooves rather than human feet, ankles wrapped in bandages, and upper legs armored. Its rib cage was empty, dark viscera coated its completely exposed bones, and thin leathery skin poked out of the tarnished metal breastplate it wore, extending to the tips of its long withered fingers. Tusks extended from underneath the things mask, which was blank except for six dots, arranged in two columns of three as if they were eyes, a feather plume extended from the top of its helmet, curling around its head, and the two horns on its head. One hand held its weapon steady as it sat across the monster's shoulders, a huge war hammer, one end flat, the other a dull pointed tip, both splattered with the reddish brown of dried blood. 

“An apparition,” the man said to me, now standing closer. 

I took a step back, I hadn’t heard him move closer. ”Who are you?” I demand. “What the fuck is going on?”

Beneath the mask, the man chuckles, his shoulders shaking. He turns towards the monster, “Leave us alone you big lug, go find your food somewhere else.”

Slowly, the monster turned and disappeared, the image melting into the trees.

I turn back to the odd man, still waiting for answers. I look at him expectantly. 

“Oh, you were serious?” He asks, almost sounding amused. “Look mate, this is something that doesn’t concern you. Vessel told us you’d be back, and sent me out here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed or worse. I’m sure I'm not even supposed to be telling you most of this, but you seem like the type to ignore anything if you’ve set your mind to do the opposite of it. Trust me when I tell you, you need to turn around now, go back to the town, go beddy-bye, and pretend all of this was just a really weird fever dream.”

I try to process his words quickly. “Vessel?” I decided to question him here first. “What vessel?”

“Not what, but whom. The guy you met when ol’ clunky was chasing you earlier. His name is ‘Vessel.’”

I think for a moment, then I turn and begin walking into the woods.

“What are you doing?” The tall man says almost worriedly. “I told you to go the other way.” 

“And clearly you’re not going to stop me,” I say as I hear him begin to follow me. “I want answers, and if that means finding your ‘Vessel,’ then so be it.”

The man laughs softly. “Love, if you think you’re gonna get an answer better from one of the others, you’re sorely mistaken. II and IV, they listen to the rules. Vessel’s even more vague than them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, pausing for a moment and glancing around the woods. “Are we headed in the right direction?”

The man sighs. “I’ll never understand why we’re not allowed to touch you humans. How am I supposed to stop you from finding the house if I can’t grab you and toss you back to where you’ve come from?”

I stare at him. “What are you?”

His eyes glint in the darkness. “Do you really want to know?”

I nod my head, now feeling slightly nervous.

“What’s your name?” He asks slowly. 

I tense now feeling slightly apprehensive. An odd masked man in the forest asking for my name? If I was stupid, I might’ve given it to him. “None of your business.”

I can see the sly smile in his eyes as I speak. 

“Smart one, aren’t you..”

I continue walking. “What’s your name?” I ask him. 

“III,” he says simply. “And yours?” He tries again. 

I shake my head. “Ulfric Stormcloak.”

At this, the man, III, laughs. “Nice to meet you then, Ulfric. Planning on giving me your real name anytime soon?”

“Of course not,” I say with a small smile. “I won’t be giving you anything of mine.”

“You are a smart one,” he says. “Not smart enough to realize we’ve been walking in the wrong direction this whole time though.”

I scoff, turning to him. “Which way then? And where are we even going?”

“No idea, love,” III says laughing. “You set off on some determined journey.” 

“Just going the way I went earlier,” I mutter as III turns and walks in a separate direction. I follow him quietly. 

“That’d be why you ran into the one you did then..” III says, surveying the woods. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the two monsters I’ve met so far. “What… what are they?”

III turns his gaze to me. “Hmm? Oh, Clunky and uh…” He trailed off. “Shit, I only know their other names,” he mutters to himself. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “They’re… uh,” he pauses. “Actually, love, this one might not be for me to tell you about.”

I sigh, “Great, and you’re telling me you’re the only one who’s gonna give me straight answers, and now you won't give them to me?”

He barks out a laugh. “Not necessarily. Those things, I don’t know how to explain that one to you without making you turn tail and run. And at this point, I’m not sure Vessel will let you do that.”

His words send a shiver down my spine. 

“Meaning?”

He glances at me, eyes almost seeming preoccupied, “Meaning, you’ve seen far too much of this and lived. Vessel’s under direct orders to not let anyone who’s seen as much as you have just… go.”

We fell into silence then. I open my mouth and close it, trying to find the words to speak, and failing. “Am I… going to be killed?”

I half expect him to laugh, tell me ‘of course not,’ but he doesn’t. Instead, he shoots sideways glances at me. 

“What do you think?” He asks, but it seems more like he’s asking someone else, someone unseen. He thinks for a moment, before speaking again. “I don’t think so. But it's not really up to us, is it?” He puts his head down and his shoulders droop slightly. 

we fall into silence again. A few minutes later, as we walk through the brush, a faint warm glow begins radiating from the trees ahead of us. 

“Ahh, home sweet home,” III says loudly, making me jump. 

As we get closer to the glow, the building comes into view and my eyes widen in surprise. Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t a mansion.

It was such an odd sight, too. A lovely, perfectly preserved Victorian-style mansion, gas lamp posts lined the courtyard and led up to the large porch. The whole building was three stories high, and I assumed there was an attic and basement as well. Vines grew up and down the building, and if not for the warm light coming from the windows, I would’ve assumed the building to have been abandoned, even if it was pristine underneath the foliage. 

III walked up to the door, and opened it, ushering me in with an exaggerated bow. “Welcome to our home.”

I step inside. The foyer was lit by candlelight and a beautiful rug ran down the hall, which branched off to three different rooms. Directly ahead I could see bits and pieces of a kitchen. III began walking down the hall and took a left. I follow him quietly. I glance through the door at the right, the dining room. A long mahogany table complete with a crimson table runner and intricate golden candlesticks. The room was empty. 

I stepped through the doorway of the room to the left, which ended up being a living room of sorts. A sofa, a loveseat, and a couple of plush armchairs surrounded the coffee table in the center of the room. On the wall in front of it, a fireplace, with burning tinder. I was surprised to see a TV mounted on the wall above it, the modern tech looked very odd in a place like this. The right wall was filled to the brim with bookshelves, each one crammed tight with hundreds of books, some very old, some new. There was a dark staircase on the wall by the door, leading both upstairs and downstairs into a basement. 

III threw himself on the couch and gestured for me to take a seat. “II and IV will be down soon,” he tells me. “Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

I take a seat in one of the armchairs and fold my hands into my lap. ‘What the fuck am I doing here?’ I think to myself quietly. 

A few moments later, two men enter the room, and I suddenly feel more afraid than before. Neither of them was as tall as III, but they also wore masks. One of them, the taller of the two, had a mask like III’s, except the colors were switched. The other, his mask was a dark charcoal gray, an angry expression molded into the face, though the same sigil passed over the forehead, eyes, and eyebrows. Unlike the other two, the mouth of this one wasn’t sewn together, but twisted and nonexistent. 

They glance at me and take seats around the room. The one with the different mask nods at me, muttering a muffled ‘hello.’ I’m too nervous to return it. 

“Don’t worry love, II won't hurt you,” says III. “Bloke just looks a bit spooky’s all”

Vessel told you not to return. 

I jump at the voice I hear in my mind. 

“Forgive IV,” says the one with the different mask. “If he speaks out loud, none of us would ever hear again.”

I glance at IV, his eyes are narrowed, staring at me with an angry gaze.

Silence falls over the room as I try to decide how to respond. I see a smile grow in III’s eyes. 

“Having trouble collecting your thoughts?” He says, smugly.

I’m beginning to feel slightly faint. A forest full of monsters, four masked men, none of which seem to be entirely human. They can all definitely hear my thoughts and each other. I’m quite far away from my home, and my friends and family don’t even know where I am. III has already given me the hint of an idea that they might kill me. 

My thoughts are running rampant now. The men in the room tensed, almost as if sensing my fear. The fourth stares at me, gaze softened slightly.

We don’t want to hurt you. His voice echoes in my mind. But we might not have a choice.

II shakes his head, “We don’t even think it’ll end up coming to that,” he says quietly. “Vessel is speaking with Sleep now, trying to figure out what we’re to do with you.”

My mind is reeling, and I suddenly have a strong urge to cry. I feel the tears gather in my eyes for a moment, desperately trying to blink them away. 

I see II glance over to the staircase and I follow his gaze. The man I’d first met, the one called Vessel, was walking up the steps from the basement. I’d felt his presence before I could see him and felt a shiver run down my spine. There was a certain air of authority and heaviness that followed him. 

“Hey, Ves!” said III enthusiastically. 

As he reached the top of the stairs, Vessel looked around the room at our little group. I couldn't see his eyes through the mask, but I could tell when they fell on me, the way he lingered for a moment and his jaw clenched slightly. 

Was he angry? With me? 

“Of course not,” his voice was just as beautiful as I remember.

My eyes widen slightly as I realize he’s speaking to me, hearing the fears in my thoughts and reassuring me. 

I open my mouth to speak and then close it again.

“I’d like to have a word with you, alone,” he says quietly. 

Wordlessly, the other three stand and file out of the room, IV leaving last and closing the door behind him quietly. 

Vessel takes a seat in the armchair across from me, studying me through his mask. His body paint is a lot more streaked and faint now, I can see a lot of his natural skin underneath. 

“You’re an odd one, huh? Meet a monster in a forest and a strange man who tells you not to come back,” he tells me, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Anyone else would listen indefinitely.”

“I want to understand what's happening here,” I say. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s ever done this.”

Vessel doesn’t speak immediately but nods in agreement. “No, definitely not the only one. But there’s a reason more people don’t know about this. The ones who see what you did and listen, only have their words to tell people. The ones who come back-”

Somewhere in the distant wood outside of the house, a horrible gut-wrenching howl sounded. It brought up every horrible memory, every time I’d felt pain. I take a shaky breath, a tear tracing its way down my face. 

Vessel regards me for a moment before finishing his statement. “Those who return, are either killed or consumed by Sleep.”

~~

Thanks for reading !! Should I cross-post to Ao3 as well?

@dravenskye @stuffedzitifrita

[britt-kageryuu]

The stream is viewing a blue starry void, with Leo sitting against something, kinda in a lounging position.

His model is dressed in dark blue space themed leggings, a plain oversized blue hoodie, black socks, and his mask with star patterns on the tails. He's playing through the early parts of Dreamlight Valley.

"So, I have to complete like a million odd quests to unlock every character, but I still have to wait multiple days for certain ones to actually be unlockable." Leo says as he has his character run around doing random tasks to collect enough 'glimmer' to unlock the next area. "This is a cozy game, but you have to go through so much story before you can really relax. Then you move onto the DLC!" Leo jokes as he goes back to Scrooge to complete a quest. He turns his head upwards as if trying to look at someone behind him who just asked a question.

"Huh? Oh, 'Is there any character I want to unlock most?' Yeah, the little Blue Alien Stitch! Though I looked up how to unlock him, and it can take Ten real life days to unlock him, and I need to finish unlocking Donald first." He says while running off to cook some food to keep his energy bar yellow. "This is part of why it's hard to think of Dreamlight as a cozy game. And yeah, some other cozy games can be more hectic, but needing to wait multiple real world days for progress to continue can be hard. On my patience at least, the wait is driving me nuts."

Leo stretches out a bit before snuggling back into what he's sitting on. Then lets out a slight off, and looks down at his stomach area with a smile. Light churrs can be heard over the mic, along with a laugh that was definitely not Leo, or recognizable as any of the Turtles. Leading to a slight frenzy in the chat.

Though the moment is interrupted by an alarm noice. Leo leans over to grab what is apparently his phone. "Oh, nice, I can now safely take some more medicine." He moves forward a bit, "Hey can you grab my stuff from the over there?" He askes someone who is in the room with him. He's watching the person, "The one with the blue grumpy face... hmm? Sure. Use the one called 'Calm the Dragon', yeah it's a newer blend we made. I have to keep April and Cass from stealing my stash." Leo lets out a laugh while still watching the person, listening to whatever is being said.

The person came back and handed Leo his medicine, and a mug of tea. Leo toses the medicine in his mouth and drank from a different container than the mug in his hand.

"Can you move that small table over here, gotta let the tea sit, and I don't want to be holding it the entire time." Leo asks, then placed the mug down, and got back into the position he was in before. "I swear if it weren't for a few personal reasons, I'd get rid of this curse."

"A Curse? Is that what you call it?" The person asked. The audience is confused on why the person could be heard then, but not before.

Leo turns around, "Well I can't think of something creative right now. Now just let me get through this. I need to mess around with some stuff to get this quest to complete."

After a few minutes of collecting random items, and moving furniture around for the quest, Leo pauses to grab his tea, and takes a long sip then lets out a sigh.

"We haven't finished the package design for this just yet, but it definitely will be available to buy soon you guys." Leo once again snuggles back, and just enjoys his tea while the 'stream friendly' music from the game plays. He almost forgets to continue playing because he wants to just bask in the moment and relax.

After about an hour more Leo puts the stream into BRB to freshen up, and grab a quick meal, with Usagi who was hanging out with him all stream. Acting as a very comfy living hot water bottle.

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

Masterpost

I had only a very small part of this actually thought out, then just winged it.

[thelittlestsquid]

How I Met You (1/3) - König x F!Reader

A/N: Graphic design is my passion, yes. Anyways, this is my first fic ever! Yaaaaaa.....aaayyy.. yeah. I'm German, so obviously I had to write about König. Before anyone says anything - yes, I know he's Austrian. I headcanon him having family in Germany that he visits when he's on leave. He speaks standard German so it makes sense to me. I also gave him the name Mathias. I don't know, he seems like a Mathias to me. :,) This will have three parts, so hopefully y'all enjoy it, because we'll be doing it again. Twice. I don't really know how Tumblr works yet but if you want to request anything - I always gladly take requests! <3

Anyways, this is getting pretty long - if you want anymore info on me or the rules for requesting, look at my pinned post! Thanks so much for reading! <3 (I'll translate everything German, don't worry!) Kaufland is a German supermarket btw., it's literally 'buy land' wtf

Summary: König never thought he'd have to worry about falling in love or starting a family. He also never thought that he'd meet is partner-to-be in a Kaufland, trying to reach bread - and failing horribly.

Warnings: (Social) anxiety, König doubts himself a lot, Kinda Meet cute, Fluff, language, Female Reader, German Word count: 2k

From an outsider's perspective, König was a skilled operator, a deadly fighter who was deadset on completing his objectives.

Even if he was built like a mountain, he somehow managed to go completely unnoticed by his enemies, making him a deadly weapon.

That was him. That was all he was supposed to be - all he had to be good at.

And he was, well, he tried. He tried so damn hard to be. But lately, his mind seemed to wander. Suddenly he felt like being this perfect weapon wasn't the only thing he wanted - something he thought would be long lost to him became an option again. A family of his own.

He believed that, if he ever tried to find a partner, they would be military as well. His life was full of murder and misery, he thought that he needed someone who understood his job. He thought only a fellow operator would.

So why the fuck was he here, in a Kaufland, staring at the cute woman at the end of the aisle - clearly not a soldier. Clearly struggling to reach the top of the shelf. His legs started to walk towards her - his social anxiety somehow forgotten.

''Äh, entschuldigung? Soll ich dir helfen?'' (Uh, excuse me? Should I help you?)

--

Fucking bullshit these… tall fucking… shelves in Germany…, you were visiting a friend in Germany for two weeks. Everything went well - until you went shopping and tried to get some bread that was at the top of a giant shelf. Fucking hell, why are shelves in Germany this big?! Fucking Germans…, you cursed wildly in your head, trying to reach that damned bread for more than five minutes now. It was getting embarrassing but your ego didn't allow you to just ask someone to help you. 

A shadow fell over you. You turned around and looked right into a broad chest. Slowly your eyes wander up into the face of the absolute giant in front of you. The lower portion of his face was hidden by a face mask, his blond, long hair in a low bun - some strands of hair falling into his eyes as he slightly bend down to look at you. Blue eyes look down on you but his gaze doesn't quite reach your eyes - he seems to stare at your nose. He says something you don't quite understand - it's only your second day here after all. He seems to understand your confusion, his eyes widen slightly as he clears his throat. ''You speak English?'', he slightly tilts his head to the right. You nod, letting go of the shelf next to you. ''Yeah, uh.. sorry, what were you saying?'', you say as you straighten up a little so that you can actually look into his eyes. 

The mans eyes widen a little as you straighten up. Standing a little straighter himself he points to the bread, his eyes crinkling as he seems to smile a little. ''Do you want me to get that for you? I would not want you to hurt yourself'', without waiting for your answer, he grabs the bag and hands it to you. You take it, glad that this madness was finally over. You put your aquired treasure into your shopping card and turned back to the giant. ''Thanks. What's your name?'', he seemed to think for a while, eyes becoming distant. Did he forget his name? After a short while he cleared his throat again and look back to your nose. ''Mathias. My name is Mathias. And what is your name?'', you could see the ghost of a smile behind his mask. It didn't quite reach his eyes but it seemed genuine. You told him your name and held out your hand. Mathias stared at it but decided to shake it, his large hand covering yours completely. He was insanely warm, like he just held his fist into a bonfire. ''You uh, have a pretty name'', he says, even if it was a little quiet. -- What the fuck was he doing? 'You have a pretty name' - really? Fuck, he should've never asked to help you. He should've just gone into another isle and finish his shopping. Did he really think he could just... chitchat? He was never good with that! When you asked him for his name, his mind seemed to go blank for a second. Scheiße, was he König or Mathias? Would it be weird to make you call him König? Yes, yes it would - Mathias it is. (Shit) You are not on base. This is a civillian. Callsigns aren't normal here. This is not military ground.

He repeated the mantra in his head. So much, that he almost forgot to answer you. After some debating, he shook your hand - reminding himself to be gentle. Civillian, not military. This isn't a seasoned operator.

Fuck, what was he supposed to say now? How would a normal conversation continue? Was he annoying you? Surely you had better things to do as standing here.

He was taking up so much of your time, maybe he should just turn around and walk away, maybe that way he could forget about all of this and just finish his shopping and-

--

His eyes were distant again. Was he okay? Should... should you ask? Something about his entire act was extremely confusing. He was tall, undeniably strong - his face was almost hidden by the mask yet what you saw was... actually really fucking handsome. He seemed gentle and thoughtful - he helped you, a complete stranger, after all. Smiling, you took out your phone. ''Let me buy you a coffee as a 'thank you', yeah? Want you give me your number?'', you held out your phone, opened on a new contact. Mathias flinched a little and blinked down onto the phone. He stared for a few seconds before taking it. ''That would be... nice. Thank you'', the phone looked absolutely mini in his hands, he could hold the entire thing with one hand as the other typed in his number. It seemed to take him a while because his fingers pressed down on two numbers at a time. He scrunched his eyes a little, seemingly very concentrated. It looked really adorable.

After returning your phone, you bid farewell. You still had some shopping to do and surely Mathias had other matter to attend to as well. Whatever it was, he seemed pretty determined to leave the supermarket as fast as possible, almost tripping over himself in the process. You huffed out a quiet laugh as you continued through the aisles.

--

Okay. So you obviously didn't hate him. She gave me her number... She wants to meet me... He stood in front of his mirror, two shirts in his hands. Today was the day you two would meet a cafe, not far from his home. He liked that one, it was quiet, not too full and their menu was amazing.

Should he wear his mask? It would be hard to eat with it on... Should he go with his normal, black shirt? Maybe he could try something new? No. He wanted to be comfortable and not worry if anyone thought his outfit was weird.

König decided on his usual stuff, black pants, black shirt - it became a habit from when he was on base. You couldn't exactly wear bright ass clothes on a mission.

After some spending some more time on panicking, he decided to take his mask with him - put it on once he felt the need to.

König didn't think he was ugly. Quite the opposite, actually. He found himself to be handsome. The thing he was most worried about wasn't his looks.

On missions, he wore his sniper hood - an old shirt he couldn't use anymore since it became too small. It wasn't what he imagined to be wearing when he joined, but it stuck. König was used to hide his face, not caring about his expressions. It was so familiar to him that he sometimes forgot to show emotions when he was on leave. Old habits die hard, eh?

But he wanted to try - he found you genuinly interesting and he loved how patient you've been with him. Since your first meeting, the two of you texted daily. König behaved completely different over text. More bold as usual. You, in return, answered with the same boldness - subtle and not so sublte firts were exchanged over the past few days which resulted in König being even more nervous when he thought of meeting you again.

How the hell did he manage to get into this? Since when did he talk to people, let alone befriend them? Was he trying to be friends with you? Clearly you seemed interested, did you want more too? Wait, too?

Before he could loose himself in his self-doubt again, he threw on his jacket, took his keys and wallet and left his apartment.

This was all so... new to him. On the field, all he had to do was function. He had to set his emotions aside, they didn't matter. What he thought didn't matter, how he talked to his subordinates didn't matter. But he wasn't on base now. He was on leave and he had to remind himself every. single. time. that he needed to behave differently here.

It was hard which is why he usually kept to himself, resting alone in his apartment or going out with some comrades to drink - people who understood him and thought like him.

As he walked down the street, he suddenly worried if you even recognised him without his mask. But König didn't have to worry for long, as your friendly voice called out to him from further away. --

This cafe was absolutely adorable. You arrived a little earlier than necessary to get a good view of the place. It looked really old, baby blue accents and plants everywhere. Almost like a little palace.

Spotting Mathias wasn't hard, as he towered over pretty much everyone. But something seemed different today.

You could see his face - all of it. And fuck, was he beautiful.

He frowned slightly as he walked down the street, his eyes cast onto the floor. You could see some freckles covering his cheeks. His hair was in a ponytail, his blond curls falling over his broad shoulders.

You had to stop yourself from staring. Any time now. But it was so damn hard to look away.

You don't know how it happened but after your short encounter in that stupid supermarket, the mountain of a man didn't leave your mind, his voice basically replaced your inner voice at this point.

He was an absolute treat over the phone and in real life. Especially in real life.

You jogged over to him, calling out his name in the process. ''Mathias, hey! Hi, how are you?'', you smiled up at him. He smiled slightly and it absolutely melted your heart. He had dimples that only became more prominent when he fully smiled at you. ''Hello you. I am good and you? I hope you will like it here'', he nodded towards the cafe.

-

You had an absolute blast. It was nice and quiet, the food was amazing and most importantly - you had just the right company.

Mathias was cautious with telling you anything about him but after some convincing he told you about his work. He was a soldier in the military, stationed in Austria but visiting his family in Germany.

That makes sense, you thought. Something about him screamed soldier. His height, the way he dressed, those absolute huge muscles - you kind of already knew.

But all this only made him more attractive in your eyes. Strong, capable but at the same time he seemed so... gentle, so sweet.

The date - as you called it in your head - ended sooner than you wanted it to. But inside you knew that this wouldn't be the last time the two of you crossed paths.

[tesseractrave]

The Happy Mask Salesman's design makes me wonderfully crazy, and I have to talk about the way my brain processes it because it's a big part of why I love him so much.

[Analysis is under the cut]

——————————————————————–——

The first detail I'd like to point out would be the color theory.

He has the bluer purple on both his tunic and trousers, or the whole piece if you consider it a jumpsuit (I personally don't draw it as a jumpsuit, but I do admit that it might be the most game-accurate interpretation), and it gives him a very direct foundation and center for the outfit's base.

The vest and shoes are a darker magenta, however, which adds hue variation while staying analogous with his tradmeark purple shades, and the light grey is a value used to balance the more saturated purples as an accent.

The golden accessories are a complimentary (opposite) color to purple, which Nintendo seems to be very adept at in general (cough, Splatoon, cough).

Of course, we can't forget his hair. Whichever specific shade you see it, it's always agreed that the color is at least somewhere along the ginger spectrum. The red, orange, auburn, etc. hues are analogous between the contrasting gold and purple, adding a transitional color to link them.

His skin serves the same purpose with the varied addition of having a lowered saturation and a lighter tone to aid the grey in balancing the depth of the color of his clothes and hair.

Though we unfortunately have no canon answer to what his eye color is, Ember Lab's creative decision to make them green may have been the best choice from a design standpoint because it balances out the purple in his clothing and makes his face stand out more.

The distribution of color in this design as a whole is pretty genius to me, as well.

His hair, being the only part of him that's that ginger color, directs the eyes upward to his face, while the main, deep purple is focused on the direct center.

The gold is arranged widthwise across the center, most heavily on the neck once again to direct the eyes upward while also distributing down to both of his wrists for balance on either side, almost like a scale.

The magenta and grey both run lengthwise down (and wrap around) the center and sit in mostly horizontal detailing at the bottom of his legs like the base of a pillar.

It's not something I added to the example image or spoke about before, but his white teeth in his smile are another aspect that is, of course, very eye-catching for his face and important for his design.

There's also the topic of the geometry.

I'm using my own art as an example because this is the way I interpret it, but the first image is just a breakup of how the edges of each section line up with one another in a way that fans out from the center, and the second image is the addition of marks measuring the estimated centers of each section.

Looking closely, you quickly realize how his gorget makes everything line up geometrically, and as a whole, the design is entirely symmetrical apart from the way his hair is parted, which adds all the asymmetry needed to make him feel natural, albeit incredibly well-groomed and organized.

The color of the inner edge of his vest and the the soles of his shoes is the same as the two rows of stitches running down the front of his torso, which gives the otherwise separately-coloured pieces of the outfit a common detail to link them as a set.

(At one point, I think I had an exact estimation for the number of stitches in each row, but I think I started ignoring it in my art to save my sanity. I know it's on my cosplay, though.)

His gorget and bracers also have a matching scallop pattern (though it seems to be debated on whether the scallops of the bracers face up or down), which adds an additional sense of uniformity.

The majority of details follow the lengthwise median, and everything suggests an overall polished feel and a balanced center of gravity. All in all, it's a fantastic design. I've seen so many wonderful takes and artistic adjustments on it, and I've even made my own, but the character designers at Nintendo really popped off with this one.

[ggomos-maribat]

8 | bearing another mask

Part 8 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

TW: a bit of SH, noncon touching

Lila sat in her dimly lit apartment with a souring mood on her face. One hand tapped against the side of her hot mug while the other held a fingernail wedged between her teeth. She stared at the email from her PR and legal team, which promised that they would put out the flames and advised that she kept quiet for the meantime so as to not worsen the situation. But it's not enough, she bitterly thought. No matter how much cleanup they do, those rumors were scars that would forever mar the face of her company.

She let out a slow breath. My sales will be affected, the employees, our suppliers. Why, why does this have to happen now? She switched to another window that showed an article detailing the designs she 'stole' from the deceased girl. I was taking inspiration, she seethed. Aren't those designs better off seeing the light of fame than being stuck in a piece of paper? If Marinette were alive, she should be thanking her.

Sharp trills from her doorbell snapped her out of her stupor. Quickly, she told herself to calm down and let the issues pass—people move on from one intriguing gossip to another in no time anyway. She glided over to her door and opened it up, expecting to see her assistant to greet her.

But instead, a tall blonde man was on the other side of the door.

"Adrien!" The smile froze on her face, albeit also showing slight surprise. "When I said I wanted to meet you, I was expecting to go to your place or something."

"I thought I should come to you instead, so I don't need to see your face ever again." His voice was devoid of any warmth, eyes lacking their usual shine. In fact, it was the coldest Adrien had ever been in front of her, as he clearly didn't bother to hide his disdain.

Lila snorted. "How nice of you. Won't you come in?"

Adrien actually stepped into the place, but only by the living room. Out of obligation, Lila headed into the kitchenette to open up the cupboards and look for something to serve him. "Want anything to drink? Eat?" She hummed. "I think I still have cheesecake cups from an influencer friend of mine . . . or oolong tea?"

"I don't want anything. I'm not planning on staying long."

"You look well." She tilted her head. "We didn't even get to talk much in the reunion. It feels like you were avoiding me."

"I was, in fact."

Lila paused, and looked at him with narrowed eyes. Can't we play pleasantries just for a while, Agreste? "Fine." Her lip curled as she neared him. "You don't want to talk like mature adults, I get it. I'll go straight to the point. Are you behind all those rumors?"

"No," Adrien replied coolly. "If it were me, if I were trying to protect Marinette's designs, don't you think I would've done that a long time ago?" A ghost smile flickered on his lips. "But I do think it's well-deserved for you. Your current silence means you've been put into your place."

"'Put into my place'?" Lila echoed. Maybe it isn't you, or maybe it is and you've just been waiting for the right time to strike. "Those posts are ruining the reputation of my brand! They're baseless rumors trying to make me look bad!"

"How are they baseless when you've clearly tried to rip off Marinette's creations and even designs from small businesses?" Adrien asked.

She scoffed, "Now you're insulting me just because you're back from that hiatus of yours? Look, I've built my company with my own hard work and talent. I get that you're hurt about Marinette's death but I don't deserve this for my petty lies in collège and lycée. They were white lies! I was trying to make friends. Why do you think our class ended up being so close after these years?"

Lila could see the enclosed rage in Adrien's eyes, one with a fire that burned as strong as the one setting off inside her, but he didn't act on it. His tone was calm and unwavering, albeit holding a silent venomous undertone. "You can't call your lies petty if they've hurt someone badly. You didn't make the class so enamored with you—you trapped them and manipulated them that they have no choice but to play along if they didn't want to be dragged to hell with you."

She put herself closer to him, looking him in the eye. Why did Gabriel have to go so soon? Why couldn't you have stayed obedient like you had all those years?

"That's bold coming from you," she whispered, breath touching his skin. He flinched a little. "You and I both know Gabriel would've entrusted his company to me, if you weren't already written out in his will."

She slid a hand up his chest, then to his shoulder, and down his arm. "I don't think the company is even holding up right now. When's the last time it had a show? What was the last design you released—"

"—Don't touch me—"

Her hand cupped his cheek lightly, but when he moved away, she grasped his forearms instead. "If you're smart, you'll realize you can't handle it alone. You need me, you need his protégé. My company can partner up with yours and you'll be back on your feet in no time."

But Adrien pulled away again, more forcefully this time, and glowered at her. "I think it's the other way around—it's you who needs me. If you can get me on your side, you have another celebrity backing you up, or you can divert attention from the scandals with another partnership."

Lila clenched her jaw, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning in to give him a saccharine smile. "Unfortunately, I don't stoop that low. If you don't want us to help each other, that's your loss." She ran a hand through her long hair. "Your father's company will go bankrupt, and Lilia Designs will be the new top fashion brand."

Calm down, she told herself. Although Adrien wasn't an option to be a pawn anymore, it wasn't that big of a deal. She just wanted to feel a little bit of satisfaction if she could put him under her thumb, see him helpless and compliant. But I can't lose my nerve here. If I lash out, I lose. I just need to be the bigger person.

"That's quite confident of you, Lila," Adrien said forebodingly. "We'll see, I suppose."

***

"There's one more thing we want to ask. Felix Fathom—was he related in any way to the case?"

"My cousin? What makes you think so?"

He saw some hint of hesitance on Tim's face. "He had trips back and forth from London to Paris at that time."

"He was helping take care of me after Marinette died while juggling his responsibilities at home." He shrugged. "Technically, I had no family anymore, aside from him and my aunt."

"Is there any way we can talk to him?"

He paused for a few beats, thinking it over. Then he replied: "I can put in a word for you, but I can't guarantee that he'll be available. His schedule's pretty tight nowadays."

He slammed the car door shut as soon as he got onto the seat. That woman's touch was still ghosting on his arms, making his skin crawl. His stomach was a gurgling pit of nausea and his jaw was clenched tight. Was that how Lila acted this whole time?

He kept himself from shivering while starting up the car. It had been a while since he adopted an alter ego, and still, he was yet to fully understand his cousin. Even as he donned Adrien's clothes, and messed up his hair to match the unkempt style, he felt like an impostor in his own skin. Ever since he appeared in the class reunion a couple weeks ago, a voice would nag at him telling him that he was a fake.

Adrien wore many masks, more than what Felix could bear to put on.

And now, Felix finally knew how much Lila had tormented Adrien. Disgusting. She's disgusting. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he drove. He went through all of that, under the clutches of that vile woman.

But he knew he was the one who chose to be put in that situation. The job is done . . . the recorder is working and the camera was in place. He took a deep breath. Everyone will finally know her true colors.

Everything was slowly coming into fruition, but it wasn't over until Lila met her downfall.

Felix drove around for a few minutes just to make sure no one was tailing him. Then, he sped up and headed for the outskirts of Paris, in an isolated apartment building. He shrugged off his jacket after parking the car, and reached the top floor just as the first drizzle drops of an incoming storm pattered on the windows.

When he opened the door, he found an occupant inside already.

"How was it?"

Felix ran a hand through his hair, idly shutting the door. "Don't give me that look. It went fine."

"It's a live feed, Felix, I saw you." Marinette spun on her chair, following his figure with a disapproving stare. "I saw everything."

Felix tugged at his collar. "It was fine, it was my idea and my decision." Even if I hated her hands on me. "We got the video and it'll smear her reputation if the accusations on her haven't already."

He peeked at the computer where she had just been working, looking to change the subject. "What's that?"

Marinette sighed as she turned back to the screen. "Other testimonies popping up about Lila copying other designs. Turns out it's not only clothes—even accessories and jewelry too."

Figures, he thought. She can never be original. "Well, she got awfully greedy."

"I don't understand her sometimes," the bluenette murmured, "I saw her cry real tears at my funeral, and yet here she is, stealing from the deceased on purpose."

Felix poured himself a glass of water to dispel the sour taste in his tongue. "It's because she thinks she's not doing anything wrong."

He watched as she switched to the second screen, one displaying a high-security website with a sleek modern design. Big letters spelled out the brand: Mira Designs. A few months back, he had argued with her that a new branding could give her away because of the similarity to her former designs. But Marinette had firmly promised that that wouldn't be the case.

And that became the truth: 'Mira's' designs were different, better even, mirroring a rebirth in Marinette's creativity following the new life she'd made for herself. Lila's company paled in comparison, and Mira Designs had gained traction in such a short span of time. Although Felix wasn't an expert in fashion, he could see that Marinette was on her way to become a celebrity in the fashion world. But the appeal point in her company was that the designer herself remained mysteriously anonymous.

"We'll be hitting our quota by the end of the week." Marinette showed him the current numbers. "And you said you didn't believe in my designing abilities."

"I didn't say that." Felix rolled his eyes.

"You implied it." An amused smile tugged at her lips.

"You wouldn't be making these sales without my business expertise."

"Oh, right, yes I'm sorry Mr. Fathom, I must get on my knees and thank you for your help."

Felix snorted and grabbed his things again. He was reaching for the doorknob when Marinette stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. I need some air," he lied.

Of course she wouldn't buy that. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going out to visit Adrien," he finally said truthfully. "Just fix up dinner for yourself. I might come back late." 

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo@missmadwoman@afanofmanyships@atomicherringpersonjudge-blog@wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

[hayleythecannibal]

TWISTED MINDS: Act III- Chapter Thirty Aperitivo

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Cannibalism, Guns, Mental Heath, Pregnancy

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - MASON'S BEDROOM - DAY-

“Each of us whose life intersected Hannibal Lecter lost something. A limb here, a lung there. A few feet of intestines. The dead–” In the background there's an unpleasant SUCKING sound. SLKGHHH. SLKGHHH. Chilton pauses, masking his irritation. “The dead at least have the luxury of being done with what they lost. But you and I, we still itch.”

Sunlight slants through from a balcony. The only other light comes from MEDICAL EQUIPMENT surrounding Mason's bed; but the bed itself and its occupant are shrouded in shadow.

“That little itch should be telling you something.” A large print of Blake's Ancient of Days is on the wall beside it. At Chilton's feet, the EEL swims in restless Möbius designs. Chilton faces the bed. He's speaking to – MASON VERGER Who listens, bored. Propped up in bed, rudely sucking some kind of smoothie through a straw in the mouth hole of his face mask. SLKGHHH.

“Would you like to discuss what that little itch is telling you?” Mason stares, studying Dr. Chilton, then: “Are you wearing makeup? How long does it take you to put on your face in the morning?” Chilton shows no sign of anger. Allows a slight smile. “Now that I've got the routine down, no time at all.”

“Tell you what. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.”

Chilton hesitates... then starts removing his cosmetics: A CONTACT LENS Pinched off his left eye, revealing a DEAD, WHITE EYEBALL. A LAYER OF MAKEUP Wiped from his cheekbone, revealing the PUCKERED BULLET SCAR. It pulls his face down at the corner of his mouth.

Finally, Chilton stands before Mason, with all his damage exposed. Defiant. Almost... proud.

Mason chuckles. His one mobile hand creeps up to remove his mask, revealing his own GROTESQUELY-DAMAGED FACE. The flesh below his cheeks is tight and raw, his nose absent. Mouth pulled back in a rictus grin. “There. Now we can talk face to face.”

“I understand you've offered quite a substantial reward for any kind of relevant information on Hannibal Lecter, not just the usual apprehension and conviction.”

“Yes, a million dollars. One million. We advertised worldwide. A high price for a fancy pig.”

“Hannibal would be a prize pig if I had him in my hospital, but you do not intend to see him institutionalized, do you?”

“I'm saying nothing that would force you to break the bonds of doctor patient confidentiality.”

“You don't want a therapist. You want a profiler.”

“I want to understand Hannibal Lecter, to better understand myself.”

“You survived him. That is chief amongst what you need to understand.”

"Survived him"? That implies fortune or skill on my part that somehow allowed me to live. This is exactly how he intended me to live.” His LIPLESS MOUTH contorts into what might be a grin. “I know somewhere Dr. Lecter is going to and fro in the earth and walking up and down in it, and very likely having a good, fun time.”

“How do you relieve the agony of waiting for Dr. Lecter's capture? What do you fantasize about? I wonder what would happen if Hannibal Lecter was in your hands.” Mason studies Chilton an amused beat before offering a small laugh and a limp-yet-delighted slap to his thigh.

“I worry we're heading into territory not secured by your fee. I think I need to look elsewhere

for someone to tend to my emotional well-being. Good-bye, Dr. Chilton.” Dr. Chilton replaces the plate in his mouth and stands. “Happy hunting.”

Mason watching Dr. Chilton exit…

HOSPITAL - WILL GRAHAM'S ROOM - DAY-

WILL GRAHAM'S EYES Slowly flutter open. He gasps, wincing as he draws air into his rib cage. He takes in his surroundings to find he is… A hospital bed holds him. Glowing monitors flank him. His abdomen is freshly bandaged and stitched.

His eye finds a WALL CLOCK. In his shifting, blurring vision, the numbers sag and drift onto the wall. Will stares a moment -- until the minute hand CLICKS. Time is passing and will continue to pass. This is no fiction of his mind. He gazes over at a Sleeping Y/N, One hand on a small bump and another holding his. 

A FIGURE Until now unseen, moves at the foot of Will's hospital bed. A DOCTOR Inspecting Will's chart. He replaces it and turns and smiles, pleased to see Will is conscious.

“How do you feel?” The man's question seems almost alien in its simplicity. “Thirsty.” The doctor hands Will the hospital-issue cup next to the bed, and Will drinks slowly through the straw.

The doctor looks to the open door of the ICU; an indistinct shadow indicates someone standing just around the corner.

“Feel well enough for a visitor?” The doctor exits through the door…and the visitor enters. But instead of Abigail Hobbs it is – DR. FREDERICK CHILTON. Will reacts, mildly disappointed by who he isn't, moderately disappointed by who he is. “Hello, Frederick.”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“I was hoping for someone else.” Chilton approaches Will's bed, pulling up a chair right next to Y/N. “He knew exactly how to cut you. They said it was surgical. He wanted you to live.”

“He left us to die.” For a brief moment, Will sees ABIGAIL HOBBS, not Chilton. “But we didn't.” Will blinks and Chilton is all that remains of Abigail.

“Couple of suckers we've been. He set us up and knocked us down. What bothers me most is, I think it was easy for him. Shooting monkeys in a barrel. You had encephalitis. I don't know what my excuse was.”

“Compulsive imitation.” Dr. Chilton suppresses a snort. “I'm just living out what I observed in your experience with Dr. Lecter? How dull. But maybe. I am learning all sorts of new things about myself these days. I'm learning new things about you, too.”

“Imitation allows us to better understand the behavior of others.”

“I have great empathy for you, Will. Both of us eviscerated and accused, I have literally felt your pain.”

Will scoffs amused, “We have matching scars.”

“By the way, I can recommend some excellent macrobiotic yogurt. You need a friend, friend. When you leave this hospital, it will be under a cloud of suspicion.”

“Not a cloud. A fog.”

“Clear the air. I can help you get Hannibal Lecter out of your head.”

“And into your hospital.” Will raises his brows and strokes Y/N's Hand. “As good a place for him as any. Of course, it would be preferable to study him in his natural habitat.”

“I doubt you're the psychiatrist he would afford that opportunity to.”

“There is an opportunity here. For both of us. We can catch the man who framed and maimed us.”

“There's no opportunity here, Frederick. Not for you.” Dr. Chilton isn't terribly dissuaded.

“The optimist believes we live in the best of all possible worlds; the pessimist fears this is true. This is your best possible world, Will. Not getting a better one.” Chilton gets up and turns to leave before looking over his shoulder. “Oh- And Congrats on the baby.”

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - A FEW WEEKS LATER - DAY-

Will Graham is hunched over a large boat engine on a bench, alongside a thirty-six-foot sailing yacht, the NOLA, which peeks out of his shed. Will's hands are grimy, work clothes oil-stained. He is carefully reassembling engine parts.

Jack Crawford is approaching from around the side of the house. He takes Will in, says nothing till Will notices his presence. Will is surprised to see Jack, not sure he's happy about it. “I had hoped you would come find me. I understand why you didn't.”

“What can I do for you, Jack?” 

“I'm here to make sure you don't contradict the official narrative. We're officers of the FBI, wounded in the course of heroic duty. “ Will scoffs, “That's not true for either of us.”

“We were supposed to go together. That's on me. That's my foul.”

“I'm not sure it would've turned out any different if we had.” Jack studies Will, then: “We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the timely result of rational and conscious thought.”

“Not all of our choices are consciously calculated.” 

“Our decisions are. Y/N is being promoted to head of the Unit.” Will smiles proudly, “She told me. Decisions are made of kneaded feelings. They are more often a lump than a sum, Jack.”

“Do you remember the moment you decided to call Hannibal?”  Will goes still. “I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice.”

“You told him we knew.” Will sighs deeply, “I told him to leave. I wanted him to run.”

“Why?”

“Because he was my friend. Because I wanted to run away with him.” Jack as he considers Will's admission…

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - DAY-

Blinds are drawn; streaks of sunlight cut through the darkness, illuminating motes of dust hanging in the air. Alana Bloom ENTERS FRAME, moving into the room. Alana is in a wheelchair.

Alana stares at the spot where she remembers Hannibal throwing himself against the pantry door. Alana moves through the room. One hand slides along the table, leaving a trail in the accumulated dust. Silence. And then, a faint WHISPER:

“You were so afraid of me. That last time I saw you... before the last time I saw you…” The wheel of Alana's wheelchair SQUEAKS on the wood floor and the whispering ABRUPTLY STOPS.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY-

Alana wheels into the darkened kitchen. “Hello, Alana.” Alana startles as it reveals not Hannibal, but Will Graham sitting on the bloodstained floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinet where he fell after Hannibal gutted him.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I guess I'm looking for you.”

“That's a good guess.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting old friends. Constructing an exhibit in my mind, well-spaced and lighted, keyed to the memories of what happened here.

“You're not tempted to forget?” Alana tilts her Head in curiosity. Will sighs almost frustratingly amused. “I don't want to forget. I'm building rooms in my memory palace for all my friends.”

“Friendship is blackmail elevated to the level of love.”

“A mutually-unspoken pact to ignore the worst in one another in order to continue enjoying the best.”

“After everything he's done, can you still ignore the worst in him?” Will considers for a long moment, then: “I came here to be alone, Alana. If you wouldn't mind.” He holds Alana's gaze. Finally, she moves away, disappearing into the dining room, leaving Will alone.

reveal Abigail leaning against the wall next to Will, her throat cut, covered in blood. As she offers 

MUSKRAT FARM - DRIVEWAY - DAY-

Alana gingerly gets out of her car, leaning on a cane. She wears a trouser suit, very stylish.

MARGOT VERGER Is dismounting a horse and is approached by a GROOM. She watches Alana getting out of her car, with interest. “Hello. I'm Dr. Bloom.”

“You're the new psychiatrist.” 

“I went one exit too far on the expressway. Came back along the service road. I'm not sure if this is my entrance.” 

“This can be your entrance. Isn't easy to find, first time you come. Walk him back., I'm Margot Verger.”

“A witchy beauty about this place.”

“Yes, there is. You should see it in the spring. Riot of lilacs in the wind smells nothing at all like the stockyards and slaughterhouses one usually associates with the Verger name.” Alana steers the mild flirtation back to business at hand: “Can you please let your brother know I'm here?”

“He knows.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - MAIN ROOM - DAY-

Margot Verger leads Alana Bloom toward a large, open room with a stone balcony that looks out over miles of national forest. Silhouetted in his wheelchair, in front of the balcony doors, is Mason Verger. They pause at the entrance. “Some people have trouble talking with Mason. If it bothers you, or you can't take it, I can answer any questions you might have.”

“Thank you.”

“Margot, you can leave us now.”

“If my brother offers you chocolate, politely refuse.” She moves off. And then turns to watch Alana, intrigued. As she turns away, it is Alana's turn to look back -- she turns back to Margot, thoughtful, as she watches her walk away. “Good afternoon, Dr. Bloom.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Verger.”

“Have a seat.” As Alana approaches the chair beside Mason, the angle slowly reveals his destroyed face in all its glory. Alana does not blink. Merely takes her seat. “I thank God for what happened. It was my salvation. Have you accepted Jesus, Dr. Bloom? Do you have faith?”

“I was raised in a religious atmosphere, Mr. Verger. Whatever that left me with, it's not religion.”

“Left me with more. I'm free, Dr. Bloom. I'm right with the Risen Jesus and it's all okay now. Nobody beats the Riz. He will rise me up and smite mine enemies and I will hear the lamentations of their women. That was once you, I'm told. Dr. Lecter got deeper inside you than he did any of us.” Mason chokes on saliva, stops talking. Alana stares.

“Would you like me to get the nurse?” Alana rises, but Mason's voice stops her before she can. “I'm fine. It's all okay now.”

“You're supposed to share any relevant information you find on Hannibal Lecter with the FBI. Have you always done that?”

“I want you to understand, this is not a revenge thing, Dr. Bloom. I have forgiven Dr. Lecter as Our Saviour forgave the Roman soldiers.”

“Forgiveness isn't all it's cracked up to be, Mr. Verger. I don't need religion to appreciate the idea of Old Testament revenge.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - MASON'S BEDROOM - DAY-

Mason Verger's major-domo nurse, CORDELL, hovers behind him, applying pressure to the mask. “Ow.” Cordell carefully peels the warming mask off, discarding it in a tray. His hands now move across Mason's scarred face, gently massaging the tight, hard skin. Mason winces in pain. “I'm saying "ow."”

“Blood is flowing. Nerves are intact. Pain is a good thing.”

“This is why you can never legally work in the health industry again, Cordell. They were going to throw you away. Would have been wasted. You have witnessed suffering that would have moved anyone else to rage or tears. But not you. Ow.”

“Scar tissue is an awesome demonstration of self-preservation. The flesh's fight to exist, down to the most basic cell, is a wonder.” Cordell lifts the bedcovers, squeezes lotion into his palm and begins massaging it into Mason's withering legs. “At Communions around the earth, the

devout believe that, through the miracle of transubstantiation, they eat the flesh and blood of Christ.”

“It's an impressive ceremony.”

“I need to prepare for an even-more impressive ceremony with no transubstantiation necessary. Cordell, I've known you to be absolutely reliable and capable of most anything. Is that true?”

“It is not untrue.”

“I pay you a large salary to be responsible for my care and feeding.”

“And all that entails.”

“And all that entails. I would like you to begin arrangements for Dr. Hannibal Lecter to be eaten alive.” Cordell doesn't pause, just continues massaging Mason's legs. Do you have a preference for how you would like him prepared?” 

“Oh, Cordell... if I had lips, I would smile.”

VERGER ESTATE HOUSE - BALCONY - DAY-

Mason Verger sits in his wheelchair on the balcony, gazing out upon the acres of forest. Mason's weak fingers operate the joystick that rotates his wheelchair. He swivels to take in more of the view. Alana Bloom appears over his shoulder, limping on her cane. “All this time he eludes us, got away clean. It's as though Dr. Lecter has dropped off the earth.”

“Hannibal obviously has good papers and money. Europe is where a man of his tastes would settle.”

“His tastes are very specific.” She takes a seat, speaking calmly, therapeutically. “That's how you'll find him. The wine... the truffles. Taste in all things will be a constant between Dr. Lecter's lives. His name will change, but his taste will not. And he is not a man who denies himself.”

“Of course you know what he favors. Did he favor you, Dr. Bloom?”

“I think I amused him. Things either amuse him or they don't. If they don't... well, you didn't.” Alana sighs with amusement. “Do you ever feel that he genuinely cared about you?”

“I have no idea how Dr. Lecter genuinely feels about me. The last we spoke, he promised he'd kill me.” 

Mason laughs, “That's fairly definitive. How does it feel to use understanding as a predator's tool?”

“I'm using it as I've always used it. As a psychiatric tool. Bâtard-Montrachet. A pretty rarefied Chardonnay. I would check importers and dealers for case sales or regular purchases. You

can set up the search fields in the International Commerce Database.”

“Why not take this to Jack Crawford?”

“Jack's done at the FBI. A footnote in his own Evil Minds Museum. They’ve Appointed Y/N as Head of the BAU. And I can't tell her because she Tells Will everything.  When your father died, he left you with a U.S. congressman and a member of the House Judiciary Oversight Committee who just can't seem to make ends meet without you.” Alana Crosses her feet. 

“I'll look through my pockets and see who I can find. I'm curious,Dr. Bloom, how have I found you in my pocket? Tell me, I'm all ears. They've just been redistributed.”

“You're preparing the theater of Hannibal's death. I'm only doing my part to get him to the stage.”

OFF Alana…

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - A FEW MONTHS LATER - NIGHT-

ANOTHER CAR sits outside. Jack strides to the house, seeing – LIGHTS inside. Someone's home. Jack climbs the front steps and THE DOGS start BARKING from inside the house. As he approaches the front door, it opens and – ALANA BLOOM Emerges from inside.

“Where's Will?” Jack looks at the house, a sense of defeat and disappointment coming over him. Knowing he's lost Will.

“He's already gone, Jack. Will knows what he has to do. Do you?” Jack doesn't answer; he turns and strides to his car. Sending Y/N with will Might be one of the worst mistakes hes ever made, or one of the best.  OFF Alana watching him go…

ATLANTIC OCEAN - DAY-

BLUE WATER The ocean. Morning. No land in sight. A balmy day. Light waves, small whitecaps forming and disappearing. A BOAT'S PROW Slices the water, cutting the waves at a good clip. 

It's the NOLA -- the sailing yacht we saw Will working on. And at the helm, find – WILL GRAHAM The wind tousling his hair. Looking to the horizon, an intensity in his eyes. He looks almost... hungry. 

BSHCI - BASEMENT - DAY-

A CAGE This is what was being built. A fearsome cage for a fearsome prisoner. And now it is finished. The only thing missing is the prisoner himself. DR. CHILTON AND ALANA BLOOM Standing before the cage, side by side. Alana and Chilton admiring the cage. Partners in this hunt…