#please excuse my cracked camera lens

[try-and-try-and-try-again]

06/05/24 // Something nice. I (impulse) bought two 3D printed fidget toys from a garden centre. I was going to go for a walk with my parents but it was raining so we went there instead. An axolotl (yes blue is hardly accurate but it was the only colour) and a shiny copper snake (it has the proportions of an earthworm but oh well, I love how it shimmers). The garden centre had both a reptile shop and an aquatics shop where I saw amongst other things live axolotls and one of the most beautiful shimmery betta fish I have ever come across (described as iron ingot). I didn’t take pictures because I didn’t have my phone.

[darkspine10]

GF Fanfic - Uprooted

Tangled Roots (15,361 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 3/7

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Mature

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Mason Pines was terrible at multitasking. More accurately he could focus his attention on a number of related tasks at once, but only at the expense of completely ignoring anything he considered a lower priority. He’d even managed to miss Pacifica’s disappearance from the funeral earlier that day, absorbed by everything else going on. He only realised she’d been absent for over an hour when she turned back up at the cemetery with Leah in arm. Or there was the wider issue he was plagued with; he was failing to juggle his passion to explore the mysteries of Gravity Falls while holding down a steady job at the same time.

Thus his current activity was finding a way to supplement what small money Pacifica brought in via her writing career. Now that night had fallen across the valley he was busily rushing around the back garden behind their house, adjusting the settings on a large telescope pointed at the stars. A bulky camera sat on a nearby table. As he popped in a roll of film with a satisfying click, he repeated the question to his wife. “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this on your own?”

“Oh yes, definitely.” Pacifica peered down the telescope’s lens and marvelled at the clarity of the patch of sky Mason had focused on. It was a cliché to her at this point that he always calibrated his measurements against the same constellation each time, Ursa Major. “What about you, Ursus, you won’t be too bored staying up all night out here in the cold? Wouldn’t you prefer to, I don’t know, spend time with your parents while they’re in town?”

He snorted. “My folks are getting up at the crack of dawn tomorrow so they can drive home.”

Witnessing the Pines family’s recent reunion hadn’t helped Pacifica’s self-esteem. Marc and Mary had embraced their children and grandchildren - even when one of those grandchildren was born on another planet. It only reminded Pacifica of the gaping void in her own life. She thought she’d overcome the need for parental gratification years ago. It seemed there was something missing that she needed to fill in after all.

Mason, not noticing her introspection, attached a long and unwieldy lens to the front of his camera and checked down the sights a few times. “Besides, I haven’t had enough excuses for this kind of fieldwork in months. A meteor shower like this one doesn’t come around every night. The university back in Jersey will pay decently for the photos; it’s always nice to help the fellows out again.” There was a slight hint of regret in his voice. Abruptly quitting and then moving across the country was never an easy transition. “I might even get lucky and be able to sell some to National Geographic, or one of the smaller nature periodicals in Oregon.”

“A little extra this month would be nice.” She bumped into him with her side. “Nice to see you pulling your weight for once.”

He gave a lopsided grin. “I always aim to please.”

“When you don’t have your nose in that journal.”

He put his hand on his chest, mildly offended. “You and the girls always come first.”

“That’s why you need a real job. So we can keep living in luxury.” She playfully kissed him on the cheek, leaving a small red mark from her lingering lipstick, then turned around to look at the house. “Mortgages don’t pay for themselves.” A few stray bits of scaffolding around the roof were a sign of the house’s newness - and a reminder of a recent monster encounter that had taken the roof clean off. They were situated on the southeast edge of town, away from the main square in a row of similar suburban homes. The garden abutted the forest, though that was true of a majority of properties in Gravity Falls.

Pacifica saw a chink of light behind Merrise’s curtains. She shook her head with a grin - though it was technically past her daughter’s bedtime, she couldn’t be annoyed. Merrise was probably listening to another podcast on her phone. Apparently radio was the dominant form of media on the planet she’d come from. It probably helped that Merrise was still learning the basics of reading. This was the easiest way to learn about the planet she now called home. She’d digested all sorts of sorts of science and history podcasts, though Pacifica had doubts that she was listening to anything other than the DD&D roleplaying series her father had foolishly let her in on.

At least Merrise would be safe and warm. Her parents’ choice of evening plans weren’t the most sensible at this time of year. Since the memorial earlier Pacifica had changed out of the formalwear into a winter jacket and jeans, with fur-lined hiking boots and a pair of thick gloves. She’d need all the protection if she went through with traipsing around the wilderness all night.

She turned back to Mason. He was likewise defending against the cold, having borrowed back Wendy’s ushanka from Merrise. It was as if Corduroy was somehow haunting her. Pacifica put a hand on her husband’s forehead as an excuse to run a finger along the fur brim of the hat. “And you’re ok after today? Not… dwelling on Wendy or anything?”

“You’re not still jealous, are you?” he asked slyly, wrapping his arms around her.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” she said, stiffening in his grip, though she couldn’t deny it had been a factor in the past. “You’re not still all sad about it, I mean. You and her were pretty close.”

“Ah Paz, you don’t have to worry about me.” It was true, he didn’t seem outwardly concerned, busy as he was with the telescope and camera. He spoke without turning to look at her. “I’ll always miss her, that’s true. Today was a chance to reflect. But Wendy wouldn’t want anyone wasting away, distraught that she was gone. She’d want us to move on and be happy.”

His warm smile made Pacifica’s cheeks redden against the cold. She snuggled up against his back. “That’s what I’m going to do then. Find a way to honour her memory.”

“By hunting down a rumour that Manly Dan told you about?” Mason wore an expression of bemused doubt. “It’s not like you to go running around after a tenuous lead. That’s usually my MO.”

She folded her arms and defensively leant away. “What, you don’t trust Corduroy’s word?”

“Well, he’s a fine enough guy I suppose. Dependable at his job.” Pacifica stared at him with a raised eyebrow until he slumped his shoulders. “He’s not exactly the sharpest branch on the tree, if you catch my drift,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “Plus he once made fun of me for my lack of manliness.”

Pacifica burst out laughing at the admission. “Wow, still bearing a grudge, much?”

“I was 12! And emotionally vulnerable,” he muttered.

“Aw, poor wimpy Mason couldn’t handle a bit of teasing.” Pacifica couldn’t help but drape her arms around his neck. “I bet you were all sweaty and embarrassed.”

He wriggled in her soft grip. “A little. It took a lot to become the highly masculine male icon you see before you.” He flexed one of his biceps and flashed her an overly impressed dumb grin. Then he poked her in the stomach. “Not like you, you never had to work a day in your life for your body.”

Pacifica tensed up. Mason had inadvertently trodden on forbidden ground. “You don’t know the whole story,” she said flatly. Her glance turned up to see Mason’s star pattern birthmark. He’d once suffered debilitating anxiety over that unique feature and now he was proud to show it off. She hoped she’d prove able to withstand the disdain she felt towards her own body. Pecking him on the cheek as a distraction, she turned away and went back to standing tentatively at the edge of the treeline.

Mason stood beside her and shrugged. “Well if you’re determined to go through with this then good luck finding anything.”

“I don’t need luck. I’ve got this.” She reached in the pocket of her jacket and showed off the bone amulet. Mason examined it briefly with an air of dismissal. “You’ve not got much in the way of evidence. One little bird skull-”

“Osprey skull,” she corrected automatically before blushing.

Mason handed the amulet back to her and wandered over to his equipment. “Even if Corduroy thinks he’s got a lead I bet it’ll turn out to be a wild Percepshroom chase.”

“Oh, and why are you so sure of that?” Urged on by the desire to not be belittled she slipped the amulet over her neck, fanning her blonde hair so the feathers rested on top.

Mason waggled a finger. “The valley might be a hotspot of genuine paranormal denizens but there are all sorts of rumours and scuttlebutt when it comes to the wider Pacific Northwest. You’ve gotta be sceptical about these things. Like the Batsquatch, can you believe that? A big great-ape with wings for arms, what a joke. Or Colossal Claude, the 40ft long seahorse monstrosity seen roaming up and down the Columbia river. Fake fake fake.”

Pacifica found his condescending tone both off putting and kind-of appealing at the same time. It was nice to hear such confidence from her anxiety-riddled lover, even if he was putting her own pursuits down inadvertently. “I’m surprised that you of all people have a credibility limit.”

“There’s being open to new ideas and then there’s being so gullible and open-minded that your brain literally falls out. If every last crazy news story or rambling forum post was true the world would be drowning in magic and Gravity Falls wouldn’t be a unique outlier.”

“But arboreal one-eyed octopi, hormonal bull-men, and literal fairies, they’re all totally real.”

Mason chuckled and lifted up his palms in defeat. “Ok, you may have a point. It is incredible how some of our experiences can sound. What was Corduroy’s cryptid about again? Some kind of indigenous aquatic lifeform?” Before she had a chance to respond he rambled on. “Oregon is no stranger to alleged sea monsters. There are plesiosaurs in Yachats, or giant serpents all up the coast. Devil’s Lake is right next to the ocean. The most likely explanation for any sightings is that some giant squid or a mutated whale ended up washed in at high tide and getting stuck. Furthermore it’s about 250 miles out from the Gravity Falls border.” He made a nasally laugh. “Is the cryptid supposed to have hauled itself overland all the way here? I don’t think so.”

“You’re such a nerd,” she shot back. When he responded with an unimpressed glare she continued. “Corduroy didn’t describe it as a sea monster. ‘Evil spirit’ was the phrase he used.”

“I’m still doubtful.”

“That’s obvious,” she muttered.

“Anyway, do you know how many Devil’s Lakes there are in the US? Wisconsin and North Dakota have their own, and in both of those cases cryptid mythology sprouted up around them. People can be very superstitious, it’s the best explanation, Paz.”

“Native legends have turned out to be true before. Why is this one more suspect? Because you, Mason Pines, like to think you’re the smartest person in the multiverse. I’m going to put some trust in somebody else for once.” She took a few confident steps towards the dark of the forest. “I have to do this. I need to do this.”

“Whatever you think is best,” he said, absent-mindedly writing a note about his stellar observations.

Pacifica rolled her eyes. Even though he was wonderful at perceiving her emotions and calming her down, sometimes he could be delightfully ignorant of the finer details. “Multitasking indeed,” Pacifica muttered with a smile. “Guess I’d better get going then, if I want to get to bed at a reasonable time. You’ll be ok looking after the kids?”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll make sure Merrise doesn’t stay up all night listening to her phone, and Wendy’s already asleep.”

Pacifica’s eyebrow twitched when he used their daughter’s first name. It was irrational, she knew - they’d both agreed on the name. Still, she would need to have a word with her husband about favouring the middle name from now on, if only to avoid confusion with the ‘original Wendy’.

Impulsively she snatched Mason’s hat and put it on her own head, as if claiming Wendy’s legacy for herself. “Hey,” he cried out, “it’s cold out here.”

“Exactly, I need this more than you.” A quick flash of puppy dogs eyes made him sigh and relent.

“Don’t be surprised if I’m frozen stiff on the porch when you get back.”

“You can always go inside if you get cold, drama queen.”

“Touché,” he stole a kiss on her lips. Pacifica lingered a moment, savouring the warm touch, before Mason said, “be safe,” in a serious tone.

“I will,” she replied, equally determined that she would keep the promise. If she didn’t go now she’d never muster up the drive, so switched on a flashlight and left Mason to his work. It didn’t take even a minute for her to lose sight of the light from the town. If she peered up she could just about see a glow over the top of the branches, but at ground level it was as dark as if she was underground.

She got her phone out, but was annoyed when she remembered that her gloves made it impossible to use the touchscreen. Holding one finger between her teeth she removed a glove and swiped the phone open. Checking a simple compass app she started heading towards the rough area Corduroy told her to search in. After picking the direction she put her phone back in her jacket. It was unlikely to be of much use again. Not because of the remoteness of the forest - the satellite grid could penetrate the whole of the valley these days and she’d probably have seen a few flying about if she deigned to crane her neck up - but due to the pockets of weird energy and radiation lingering around. Remnants from all the tears in reality from Ford and McGucket’s portal experiments played havoc with communication signals of all kinds. It was impossible to predict where a pocket of distortion might strike, wandering around the valley in chaotic bands.

Though she was quite familiar with the woods immediately surrounding her home she relied on the flashlight to lead her onwards. She didn’t quite have the innate familiarity for the trails like her husband even after all the years inhabiting the region. As she headed further out from the house the canopy above became thicker, blotting out the sky completely. She’d have no chance of seeing either satellites or Mason’s meteor shower under these leaves.

She exhaled, watching the cloud of breath and stuck her free hand in her pocket to preserve what little body warmth she still possessed. Though the conditions weren’t ideal, in pure darkness, nearing freezing temperature, she moved forwards with a steady pace, not stopping for breaks. She wasn’t averse to hiking, even learning to take some pleasure from the experience over the years. But her husband, now there was a man who had a constant urge for the outdoors. She supposed it was some zeal of the converted. Mason had grown up in an unending urban sprawl, so a virgin forest filled with wonders had awakened some sense of wonder. Combine that with a tendency towards overriding curiosity and you had a born hiker.

Take their trip along the Appalachian Trail a few years prior. They’d started in high spirits, but Pacifica quickly grew tired of sleeping in cold, cramped tents and getting blisters along endless wooded ridges, so dropped out after three weeks. When Mason finally stumbled through the front door a month later, dishevelled but no less enthused to regale her with stories from the endeavour, she could only find it charming. Along with dragging him to their bedroom almost immediately to make up for lost time and indulge in one of her chosen passions instead.

Gravity Falls wasn’t the Appalachian trail. For one thing the valley was too populated to be left as such a pristine wilderness. Then there was the size; one small valley encompassing the entire sweep of weirdness. There were woods surrounding the valley as well, but they paled in comparison, a monotonous unappealing corridor with none of the personality of the valley’s supernatural charms. They lived in the eye of a very strange storm.

Despite the oppressive darkness Pacifica felt no fear of what she might run into. There were endless potential dangers, as she’d been made aware from a young age, but by now it was routine. She knew the places not to tread without the right mystical defences, where the more unfriendly beasts resided. Even the local mundane predators like bears and wolves were skittish and present in low numbers due to competition with the valley’s native creatures. Besides, they were all hibernating. There was always the possibility of a new threat, like this Unshriven she was resolutely charging towards, but she was alert enough not to be caught off guard. Whether that was brave or simply a pathological foolhardiness bred into her from Mason’s countless expeditions remained to be seen. It was almost exciting in a way, to get to be the first in the family to chronicle a new discovery for once.

Pressed against her waist in the inside of her jacket was her personal journal. Its pink cover and golden llama sigil marked it out as unique. Between all those endless journals and Mabel’s scrapbooks the whole family seemed obsessed with keeping records of the past. She herself was much more modest. The Llama journal she’d kept since age 17 was still serving her well, around 80% full. She didn’t write in it all the time, only when she felt particularly passionate about something. There were a few creature or artefact pages, times she’d felt the need to research or document their adventures, but she lacked the same motivation as her husband for research. In the same time she’d used the one journal, he’d filled six of the things and was nearly ready to start on the seventh.

Still moving forward in the inky blackness, her thoughts turned to her job prospects, as it was related to the journal in some ways. Her writing career, which had seemed ideal only a few months before, had run into a brick wall. In the past she had written about the travails of high finance and other shady business techniques she’d picked up over the years. It felt nice to shed some light on those practices and she had a self-assured confidence that meant she’d been able to crank out a number of books in the last year and a half. It was probably something close to ego, a sense that her viewpoint mattered enough that people would read it.

Now she was constantly nitpicking before even penning a single sentence. It was as if her reaction to her upbringing had flipped. First there was the entitlement, but then came the perfectionist need to avoid messing up which crippled her. She put it down to her general malaise, finding herself so often unable to muster the creativity to write or illustrate as she’d planned. She’d wanted to use her journal as a springboard to translate their adventures into a more childish form, aimed towards Merrise and Leah as a way to teach them the family legacy. Who knew if that plan would ever come to fruition.

Before that she’d had her architecture job. That had been perfect at first, allowing her to stretch her creative muscles designing bombastic skyscrapers, as well as paying well without thrusting her into the limelight. The last thing she wanted was to gain notoriety or fame. Unfortunately that job had run aground too, landing her behind a desk, constantly revising designs to the minutest of specifications and juggling appointments and finances far beyond her liking. No, she wouldn’t go back to that. Her dream of writing a book of stories for her children was still something she craved to return to. As soon as her mind unfogged, and the pressures of looking after Leah eased off, then she could continue.

Walking ever onwards the ground began to steepen beneath her feet. Impossibly she sensed the temperature dropping even further. She began to shiver. The skin on her cheeks felt terribly exposed. She pulled her hat down as far as it would go. It was like she’d passed an invisible boundary that told her she was getting close. It must have been the amulet she wore, as she was certain her path had crossed this part of the forest at some point or another. Instinctively she knew the lake lay to the north, that if she continued walking forwards she would eventually rise until hitting the rocky cliffs surrounding the valley. Heading south would take her up the more gradual ridge towards the water tower and the hill above Crash Site Omega, as well as drawing her within sight of the cemetery… and the other place she wasn’t going to think about.

She checked the bone hanging from her neck, but it appeared as dormant as ever. There was not glint to the gemstones, no life in the eyes. It was a dead totem, nothing more. Yet she could detect a difference in the air. Corduroy had said that only by wearing the amulet could she find the monster. It burned at her now that she didn’t know the answer to why. It was doubtful that Corduroy could have told her how it worked but she wished she’d stayed to ask at least a few more follow-up questions.

A tree rustled to her left and she froze in place. It was then she became aware that the forest was completely silent. No sounds of traffic drifting over from the town, no owls hooting in the night sky. Even the chill wind was deathly quiet. Slowly she aimed her flashlight around in a circle, picking out thorny growths clumped together and a few gnarled fallen tree trunks. It wasn’t an appealing locale, but hardly the stuff of nightmares. Perhaps Corduroy had simply overreacted. It would be easy to jump at shadows in this remote corner of wilderness.

Then she saw it and instantly clicked the button to plunge herself into darkness. She took as quiet a breath as she dared then tried to pierce the darkness. There it was, the lurker of Devil’s Lake.

Sitting up on a high branch was a dark mass, perching as if listening out for something. For her. Stepping sideways without ever taking her eyes off the beast, she edged behind a tree trunk. Believing herself to be obscured, she gently tilted her head around the trunk so she could look closer. After all of the grim portents she’d been expecting a let down. But this creature lived up to every word of Manly Dan’s tall tales.

The thing hunched over and squatting on the branch was a hideous, ape-like animal. Though its body was covered in jet-black fur she could make out the shape of ribs beneath its emaciated chest. The ape’s arms were slender, so much so that Pacifica was convinced they must lack bones entirely for them to be so wiry and oddly jointed. The worst part of all was the head. Taken altogether the rest of the creature seemed mundane enough, some joke of a primate out of its natural habitat. But the head…

What she’d taken for lighter coloured fur was in fact an entire skull, with the flesh peeled away leaving nothing behind but strands of ligaments. The edges at the base of the neck were hideously red as the fur tapered away. Unlike the clean, single-toned white skull that hung around her neck the Unshriven’s was a pallid grey, offset by darker patches in an ordered pattern like ritual face paint. With a high forehead ridge and jutting jaw it was unmistakably simian, like an orangutan carcass had rotted in the sun. Two lethal looking tusks stretched down from the top of the jaw. She’d seen ape skulls before in museums but this was beyond anything she’d witnessed before. A sabre-toothed ape?

She slipped back behind the tree. Her mind boggled at the possibilities, simultaneously amazed by the prospect of stumbling onto an entirely novel form of life and terrified to make a move, lest she awaken the creature’s ire. She struggled to conceive whether she could fit it on any kind of evolutionary tree while convinced a magical explanation was more sensible. This wasn’t a naturally occurring organism after all. Mason’s instinct in times like this was always to document everything. This monster could prove her undoing, so any stray detail might mean the difference between life and death.

Peeking around, she realised quite how much detail she was able to make out even without the flashlight. The beast was lit by the pale ghostly light from the stars, visible through a small gap in the canopy. Following the ape’s gaze upwards she saw it was watching the streaks of shooting stars high above. Her husband wasn’t the only captivated amateur astronomer tonight it seemed.

Taking an analytical eye, she saw that the ape’s fur was twisted, with all kinds of detritus clinging to its body. Alongside the blood crowning the neck patches of glistening brown were visible in clumps. Pacifica prayed it was simply mud. The stench that hit her a moment later told her otherwise. She threw her hands up over her mouth and nose. Her eyes began to well up at the awful stink emanating from the ape and she tasted bile at the back of her throat. She nearly cried out.

She had to stay strong, had to discover some facet or weakness she could exploit. A small voice inside her spoke up saying it might be harmless, minding its own business. The sheer wave of abhorrence radiating from the creature persuaded her that was a comforting lie she was trying to tell herself. Pacifica risked a third look. The creature was still unmoved on its perch. Giving a small sigh of relief she could at least be satisfied in knowing that it didn’t know she was here.

The Unshriven’s head snapped towards her with a crack like bones breaking. The hollow sockets bored into her. The creature was intensely angry, murderously twisting into an expression of rage. Pacifica was paralysed by fear, unsure whether to let her fight or flight reflexes take over. The ape pulled its head back to make high-pitched whopping laugh, more like a hyena than an ape. Pacifica had to cover her ears as the war cry increased in volume. The sound abruptly ceased and the ape turned back to ogle her.

She bolted back the way she’d come, down the hill away from the monster. Her legs carried her as fast as they could and she dared not look back for even a second. She could hear the ape pursuing her, leaping from branch to branch and screeching all the while, like nails on a chalkboard. Forgetting the flashlight, she stumbled over the uneven ground and fell on her face.

Rolling onto her back she saw the creature leering at her from high above. It tore off a neighbouring branch and hurled it like a javelin. At the last second she darted to the side. The branch impacted in the ground beside her with the force of a cannonball, exploding the underbrush in a cascade of foliage that covered her in mud and leaves.

She scrambled upright and started sprinting again, knowing that if she hesitated the ape would tear her to pieces. Suddenly all her doubts about Corduroy’s integrity or bravery seemed needlessly petty. She’d be grateful if she survived long enough to apologise for her attitude. She came up short as the ape swung past her, landing on the trail and blocking her path. Its slender arms shot out, bearing stubby yet razor-sharp claws that slashed through the air inches from her nose.

Remembering the flashlight, she switched it on and succeeded in briefly blinding the ape with the glare. Wasting no time to celebrate, she picked a random direction and put as much distance as possible between herself and the Unshriven. It didn’t matter where she ended up, anywhere was better than at the mercy of the elements and this undead abomination. She just needed to get back to town, to civilisation and artificial light, where she could be safe and cocooned.

However her escape would be short-lived. She had to halt in her tracks, turning the flashlight one way and another. In every direction ahead she was confronted by a wall of thick trunks, the pines and firs closed in like ranks of soldiers. She was all turned around. She had no idea where she was relative to anything else in the valley. She could even be running deeper into the woods, away from salvation. “No no no.” She started hyperventilating, swinging the light around frantically and trying to find a way forward. “Crap!”

The ground disappeared from under her feet. For a second she was in free-fall before hitting the slope and sliding down, out of control. She knocked hard against exposed roots, taking a number of hits that made her entire body shudder from the impact before rolling through a thicket. She gave a pained yell as her body finally came to rest at the base of the hill.

The flashlight fell and illuminated a small clearing. All around her a flock of birds were spooked by her sudden arrival and started flapping around. She couldn’t get up, too winded by the fall, so lay there powerlessly watching the birds run circles around her. The mindless creatures each possessed a curved crest, more of an unnatural growth, bursting out of their foreheads. Question Quail, she thought bitterly. Of all the unique and varied inhabitants of the valley she’d gone and run into a group of perhaps the least dignified of the entire bunch. At least they were harmless. She unsteadily rose and shooed the dumb creatures away.

She was questioning how natural selection could have possibly created such a stupid beast, when pain shot up her right arm. She clutched it and saw her jacket had been all torn up where she’d caught herself falling through the last bush. Scratches ran in parallel lines up the skin. Stinging at the touch, she wiped away the blood with her other hand. The injury was still fresh. She collapsed to her knees and stared at the bloody streaks. She blinked a few times uncomprehendingly. Feeling dizzy she turned her other palm over. It was coated in glistening red blood, sticky and hot.

Without thinking, she grabbed a nearby twig, ending in numerous jagged points. Feeling sweat pour down her forehead, she pressed the twig into her skin. Pain erupted from her incisions but she kept going, dragging the crude implement along so it extended the scratches all along her forearm.

Even through all the hurt and suffering came euphoria. She would make new scars, crafting a new tapestry with her skin as the medium. She tore into herself even harder, delirious and fascinated by the blood pouring out of her. She had to mark this body as her own. After so long it would finally be hers again.

The pain finally became too much. Pacifica screamed, a rattling echo. Her hand cramped and she dropped the twig. Whatever had overcome her passed and tears flowed from her eyes. Her arm was burning, with every stray gust of wind exciting the skin and sending new sensations of agony to her brain.

Trembling, she cradled her wounded arm and got to her feet. A few of the Quails were still gathered nearby, curious about her strange behaviour. She wanted to blame the Unshriven for driving her to this state. Instead she dropped her head into her hands and gave a muffled wail. “What am I doing to myself?”

She picked up the flashlight from where she’d dropped it, mindless mechanical action being all she was capable of. She couldn’t even tell what she wanted anymore. Did she want an ideal body with a perfectly shaped hourglass figure and not a single wrinkle? Or was her true desire to have a body that reflected her own journey through life, pockmarked and blemished and uniquely hers? All she knew is that she hated herself more than ever before. Her body was a failure at both her contradictory wishes.

She headbutted the end of the flashlight. “Get a grip Pacifica, now’s not the time.” She could reflect on her little breakdown later. Right now she was alone in a hostile environment, stalked by creatures from the pits of hell. That was the whole point though, wasn’t it. She picked up the Osprey skull with one hand, holding it tight against her palm. She wasn’t a victim, running helpless. The whole reason she was out here was to find and catch this abomination. Running around like a headless quail would only get her killed. She couldn’t let her mind run away with itself again.

Aiming the flashlight back at reality she peered down at the Question Quails with disdain, though this quickly faded to mere frustration. Though she loved the exhilaration and sense of discovery of her adventures, and had indeed been on hundreds, there were times when she wished for a more mundane existence. Sometimes it would be nice to have a life without worrying that her loved ones could be possessed by demons or replaced by clones made of paper. A life without constant danger, where she didn’t have to struggle to relate to her alien daughter. A life where her body wasn’t at risk of being sanded down and smoothed into a plastic imitation of her former self.

Then again, that kind of life could get boring, she thought as she heard a rustle in the leaves up ahead and felt her adrenaline begin to flow. The Unshriven had found her. This time she wasn’t going to let it overwhelm her with primal instincts. Searching around, she picked up a sturdy-looking branch and weighed it in her grip. Happy with it, she lifted it behind her head like a club and waited, listening to the pounding of her heart and the incessant footsteps of the ape padding towards her.

This time she had the advantage. As it approached, Pacifica heard a cacophony of howling and rustling. The Unshriven had fallen right into the same drop as she had. Counting in her head, she anticipated the exact moment the ape would enter the clearing. With all her strength she swung the branch and hit the Unshriven right in the side, sending it flying with a satisfying thud. “Ha, how do you like that!”

The ape fell onto one side and tried to stand up. It was evident that it was more efficient at moving through the trees than on the ground. Its legs were stumpy and underdeveloped. The hosepipe-like arms flailed around for purchase while it screamed at her. Pacifica wasn’t going to give it a chance to get airborne again. She charged towards the creature and took an underhanded swing.

The branch passed straight through the Unshriven. Its furry body flickered and seemed to dissipate like mist. Taken aback, Pacifica didn’t know how to react. That was all the ape needed. While she was dazed it hooked one arm through a branch and flew into the air. After taking one swing the ape disappeared from sight for a second before reappearing on another branch further away.

Pacifica broke into motion, dumping her improvised club. “Oh no you don’t!”

The creature might be dangerous, but it was capable of being hurt. Now was her one chance to take it before she lost the advantage of surprise. In hot pursuit, she left the clearing, sending the Question Quail running for cover one last time. Ahead of her the Unshriven was desperately diving between the trees, occasionally flitting through the air like an insubstantial wisp.

Though they were nowhere near the town, Pacifica saw a wooden fence with light coming from behind it. The ape grabbed onto the top of the fence and catapulted into the air with a single bound. Pacifica threw one leg over the wooden obstacle and hauled herself over. She dropped down on the other side, expecting a solid landing. Instead she kept going, continuing to fall into a watery pit. She instantly reacted with shock, her limbs grasping out wildly for some support. Water pricked against her skin. She blew bubbles out of her nose and mouth, and kicked out for the surface. The pool was in constant turmoil, thrumming and hot.

She burst out into the cold air and floundered, finding a firm edge. Blinking through the water covering her eyes, she hauled herself up and over the lip, falling onto her back on a grassy lawn. Stars shone high above. The creature was gone. She breathed in and out, eyes closed, heart racing, and soaked through to the bone.

“Pacifica?”

Her eyes snapped open and travelled upwards. Past toes sticking out of flip-flops, snaking up skinny legs to a cherry red bikini and a mop of brown hair. Carrying a towel over her shoulder was Mabel Pines. “Yo,” she said with a puzzled expression. “I guess this can be an early housewarming get-together. You kinda dropped in unannounced.”

Pacifica turned her head to one side and saw Mabel’s wife, Zera, standing impatiently, similarly dressed for the water in a black one-piece. She lolled her head to the other side. The pool she’d fallen into was a freestanding wooden hot-tub, surrounded by lamps and casually chugging away. “I didn’t know you’d moved into a new place,” she said breathlessly.

“Last week actually. Are you ok?” Mabel asked with a not unreasonable level of concern.

“Yeah,” Pacifica said through short breaths. “I’m fine.”

“Is that blood?” Her sister-in-law’s eyes widened at the sight of her arm. She had splotches of deep red splattered around the cuts.

“It’s a long story,” Pacifica stated flatly, sitting upright. “You got any bandages or disinfectant?”

Mabel jabbed a finger towards the house. “Inside. We were actually about to go for a little soak in the hot-tub. You wanna join us?”

Pacifica stuck out her bottom lip. She looked back over the fence at the gloom of the surrounding woods, then to the invitingly well-lit water. “Sure. Why not? After what I’ve been through I’ll accept any invitation to take a load off.”

[rjalker]

[ID: A collection of video clips from the Pokemon anime, each separated by a flash of an old-fashioned error message for TVs made up of vertical and horizontal bands of bright colors, glitching across the screen with a burst of static.

Clip 1:Misty sits on the ground in the forest, Pikachu sitting on her lap, while Caterpie looks up at her from the ground. Misty screams in fear, "Bugs are one of the three most disgusting things in the world!" Ash casually walks over, hands on his hips as he looks down at her, and says, "Aside from you, what are the other disgusting things?"

Clip 2: Ash, Brock, Misty, and Pikachu are standing in the woods at night. Ash says angrily to Misty, "I knew we shouldn't have listened to you, now we'll never get out of here!" Misty retorts, "As if! Your sense of direction is so bad you can't find yourself in a mirror!" "Well you crack mirrors!" Ash shouts angrily, and Pikachu gasps, "Pika!"

Clip 3: Ash, Misty, and Brock are standing in a Pokemon Center facing a Nurse Joy, with Ash holding Pikachu. He asks Nurse Joy, "Excuse me, but are you by any chance the oddball in your family?" Nurse Joy starts to reply with a smile before getting cutt off by the static.

Clip 4: Brock and Ash are standing outside at sunset, with Brick glaring back behind them, saying angrily, "My father." Ash exclaims, "Huh?" And looks in the direction, demanding in shock, "You mean you're the good for nothing father who left home and never came back?!"

Clip 5: Misty and Ash are standing inside a building, both with their hands on their hips, grinning. Misty exclaims, "Psyduck and I are so cute, we'll look good in whatever fashion we wear!" Ash leans forward and says snarkily, "I'm sure Psyduck will." Misty narrows her eyes and glares back at him.

Clip 6: Brock, Ash, Misty, and a younger kid in a school uniform are in a recess area, with the kid showing them a photo, which both Brock and Ash are blushing at. Misty looks angry. The kid says, "I hate the way she treats us, but I like the way she looks." Ash replies, "Yeah, not like some other girls who treat you bad and look even worse." Misty gets even angrier.

Clip 7: Todd is crouching in the foreground with his camera and its long lens, saying, "This camera is my life", which Ash, Misty, and Brock, who's wearing an apron, stand in the background. Ash snaps, "Get yourself a new life!"

Clip 8: Brock is standing pressing his face into a glass wall. Ash, with Pikachu on his shoulder, says in confusion, "I don't see any beautiful girl." The camera moves back to show Misty, smiling with her hands on her face and her eyes closed, saying cheerfully, "Just turn around!" Ash says in a deadpan, "Misty, please, only one of us can hallucinate at a time."

Clip 9: Misty crouches on the bank of a river with an Oddish in front of her. "I hope I'm not becoming heartless" She says. Ash zooms over, hands on his hips, to remark, "You were always heartless!"

Clip 10: Misty, Ash, and Brock are in a steel room, kneeling in front of a low table with their shoes nearly behind them, drinking tea. On a large scren on the ceiling Jessi and James angrily look down, demanding, their voices echoing, "Hey, don't sit there ignoring us!" Misty, eyes closed calmly, says, "Their show is pretty boring." "It'll get canceled pretty soon." Ash agrees.

The video loops back to the start.

End ID.]

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x17)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 17: Homecoming

SEASON FINALE

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: something mild that you guys have been waiting for

Word Count: my therapist diagnosed me for ADHD and she said that I am on the borderline of the spectrum. In the sense that I have a chance of getting better if I go through proper therapy and bring a change in my thinking. That is good to hear and hopefully I will do better by myself in the near future.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

A whirr followed by a piercing hum of a machine filled the blackness of the recording device. "Oh shit," a whisper was heard from within the dark. "What," another whispered back. "I forgot to pee." "Scott," multiple voices whispered at once, making Scott apologise to everyone in the dark. "All right, everyone," Natasha's composed voice addressed everyone, "we are jumping in five, four-" "Bucky, is that you?" Steve's voice was quite low. "Three-" "Yeah...well, I've never travelled to space so..." the White Wolf was quick to answer his boyfriend. "Two-" "Maybe I should've worn a diaper?" Scott's whisper was an amplitude higher now,  the fear quite evident in his voice. "One."

The darkness was replaced by a flash of light flooding the lens before gradually giving way to a desert. The camera moved around to take in the Avengers team all suited up in black and purple scrutinising the area around them. Slowly everyone was opening their suit helmets once the oxygen concentration on this alien planet was confirmed. Scott was taking little jumps with his legs crossed. "Excuse me," he exclaimed quite urgently before running haphazardly behind a blue bush. Steve and Bucky stood there holding hands while their gaze went everywhere to look for any sign of trouble. Natasha tested the comms, the incoming signals from the Compound and the number of people who had arrived with her. "I have taken the attendance and we have arrived intact," she narrated robotically into her comms, "though Scott seems to be suffering from travelling sickness." "I'm okay," he shouted from behind the bush with heavy inhales in between his words, "just my bladder. Everything is a-okay. Nothing weird in the pee-pee." Wanda was already making use of her power to scan the entire planet while standing in one spot, her hands glowing in red plasmic waves while the rest of her body floating in a trance. "Have to say, this place almost looks like earth except for those little weird looking rabbits who were watching me behind the bush," Scott commented, coming back to the group. Natasha made eye contact with the one GoPro fitted on Scott's shoulder.

Natasha: *pushing her pigtails off her shoulder* So Shuri and Tony worked out the Pandora Box's algorithm of teleportation in *smiles* forty-eight hours. Bruce helped with the foundation, of course, I just sent him on vacation when Shuri arrived because the big guy was exhausted. *inhales and looks in the direction of her Space Team* As you can see we volunteered to rescue Y/N and Loki- *Tony's voice cracked through the comms* just Y/N. *camera panned in on Natasha's face going back to a stone-cold b*tch* Natasha: *sighs* Pepper deserves a reward for keeping him on earth Tony's voice: I heard that Natasha: *completely ignores Tony* Wanda is looking for them, Steve is here in case we need more brainpower for rescue. Bucks is our muscle and I am here in case any of them have second thoughts about killing anything that tries to hurt my family. And we are all worried that Scott might die on this trip. *camera zooms in on her* We don't even know what he contributes to this group. *camera slowly turns to record Scott, standing there tongue-tied, right from his shoulder* Scott: *in a low, disappointed tone* I am standing right here. 

The camera- or cameras that were embedded in the dangerously fitting space suits- panned in on Wanda's eyes opening with a red glow. "I found them," she announced on a wavelength of confusion. "What's wrong?" Steve asked the question rising in everyone's mind. "Remember the woman who tried to kill Loki and Y/N?" "Aellae," Scott replied in the most derogatory way while making a face. Wanda blinked and tilted her head a bit. "She's alive."

On the Other Side of the alien Planet Coming into focus, a rusty looking fabric came into view, the loose cross stitch giving way to the light of the nearest star to pour in while the fabric flapped in the cool breeze. Panning out from the fabric, the view was shifted to you sitting up from what looking like one really good nap- thanks to that glow on your face and no gravity known by your hair that was everywhere. You wore a brown cotton dress without sleeves- exposing the black thread tied on your right bicep. A bit of air was knocked out from your lungs when Lulu bounced on you to hug and lick you to his satisfaction. The little tent was filled with your giggled and weak persuasion to get him off you. A gust of the cold breeze entered with the figure that came in with the tent. "Grandmamma!" you exclaimed, getting up to go hug Se'tiri, who patted your back. The camera settled down in front of the two of you as you sat down where you had been sleeping. "What are you doing here?" you asked Se'tiri, all smiles till you were hit with a sudden realisation. "Wait-" "You had fallen sick in Jotunheim," Se'tiri explained that sudden rush of questions inside your mind, "so Loki brought you back to me." "Is Loki okay?" was the first question that popped out of you. "You think anything can happen to that mannerless boy?!" she almost cursed him, tapping her cane on the floor. "He left Jotunh-" "Aye," Se'tiri waved your worries away with her hand, "do not worry about useless things. He is mannerless but he thinks ten steps ahead. You worry about yourself. Look at you, huh? You've lost so much weight. Does that boy not feed you? All that beautiful fat has vanished from your body." You were nearly on the edge of tears, hugging Se'tiri with all your might. "I love you, Se'tiri. And I can feed myself. What's that got to do with that 'boy'. It's not like he is going to cry if I lose a couple of pounds. Speaking of which, he isn't even here. Where is he?"

In the Middle of the Desert "I warned you not to follow me." Javier's camera was already panning on Loki's black-clad figure from his right side. The drone flying over them recorded Javier's resolute facial expressions. "I can't let you go to war alone." Loki snickered, barely able to contain his laughter. The drone moved away from them to record an eerie-looking shadow standing on the top of the opposite dune; a shadow with tentacles breaking out in every direction around the figure. Upon focusing, it turned out the figure was Aellae, looking at the figure of Loki laughing on his knees now. Her pale skin was cracked and her lips were dry and chapped. Those eyes were dark and clearly full of unsatisfied rage for the God slithering in the sand on some joke she did not understand. One moment she was standing here, her gaze suddenly locked with the drone; the other moment, she was seen at the foot of the dune before presenting herself right in front of Loki. Loki- all done with the laughter that Javier was clearly not pleased with- cleared his throat, wiped away the tears from the edge of his eyes and stood up to face a very horrid looking Aellae. "'Sup," the God greeting, barely trying to hold his laughter inside him. "You sold me out to those punishers!!!" she stressed the 'P' to nearly spit in his face.  "You need to have some value for me to buy you before selling you out, Aellae," he soothingly stressed to the witch. Aellae was already baring her teeth at Loki, her shadow tentacles growing bigger with every passing second. "I guess riling your own kind against you paid me. I don't see your frail human anywhere." Her giggles of content were stopped by a voice from behind her. "Oi!!!" Loki, Aellae and Javier turned in the direction of this extremely familiar yet surprisingly thunderous 'oi'. The cameras panned in on the figure appearing on the other dune, riding a beast- hairy, husky, well built, no eyes, just a mouth with evident fangs and a roar that could be heard for miles- that almost looked like... "Lulu!" Loki shouted, "I told you not to bring her here you slow-witted pile of husk!!" "Oi oi Loki!!" you shouted back with a tsk. "Do not talk to my baby like that!" Lulu roared in agreement. "And you-" you turned towards Aellae- "no one gets to hurt my boys... except for my family! Families are weird." Aellae snarled at you. "Oh, but I will hurt them. But first I will hurt you." Both you and Aellae wore stern faces, neither of you backing down. Loki on the other hand was rolling his eyes and pressing his forehead with his fingers. "Why can this woman not give me a single day of peace?" Javier looked at Loki with a raised brow, about to say something when Loki raised his index at him. "No. Do not." Giving Lulu a pat, you were already mounting off the dune on his back. Aellae too was rushed towards you in horrific teleportation jumps till she came to a halt in the middle. Once, twice, thrice- the witch tried to move but she seemed to have been trapped right there. You came to a halt a few feet away from her, confused as to what just happened. Aellae was really not able to move. "What's wrong?" you seemed confused. Aellae turned to look up at Loki with all the world's animosity in her eyes. Loki, with his hands behind his back- that the drone recorded glowing- looked down at her with a smirk. "Not so fast," he whispered. Looking down at her feet, she noticed the familiar green and golden glow. With a scoff coming out of her lungs, Aellae gathered her shadows in her palms and directed it in your direction with great force. The shadows swirled around her fingers, found a target in you and rushed in your direction at a speed you were not able to comprehend soon enough. But the drone recording this fight could see them stop right before they came within two feet of you, freezing mid-air like icicles made of dazzling black liquid. "Not on my watch," a whisper stronger than the hot breeze in the desert came from behind you. All eyes watched as Wanda emerged from behind the sand dunes, floating over to come by your side. Her palms glowed with her ethereal magic but her poise made it seem like this took no effort at all. Your eyes widened on seeing Wanda right next to you. Inhaling all the alien air in your lungs, you opened your arms, right in time for Wanda to twist her fingers and raise her brow and smirk. "WANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" you shrieked. And your shrieks were being directed by the Scarlet witch towards Aellae with no delay, making her lose her footing in no time. Lulu was helping you slide down his back right into Wanda's arms. No one could figure out when your shrieks had turned into wails muffled in Wanda's arms. "It's so good to see you," you bawled in her chest, making your witch laugh. "Aw! I missed you too! Though I have been watching you every day." Both of you were embracing each other in the highest hug possible while moving side to side in a slow down. And all this while, Aellae was throwing her attacks at you, which barely made through Wanda's shield. From where Loki watched this unfold, the futile efforts of the bad witch were just clad in some dark humour. "Everything about this makes me cringe," he groaned. "Stop it Aellae," he shouted in her direction, "you are just embarrassing yourself." Aellae wanted to go all dark, her eyes, her features, all covered in the shadows she carried, evidently preparing for a big bang. And just before she could release it, Green and golden chain made of pure magic were wringing her waist, pulling her away from the two women. They yanked her towards Loki, on the top of the dune where the God stood stoic as ever, his one hand behind his back while the other casually carried out what needed to be done. She was roaring in his face, wanting to burst open from those chains, but Loki was already fetching shackles from his pocket dimension to bind her in their magic. "The boys will take care of you," he announced without putting much effort in his words, seeming quite bored. "Man, I love the boys," another familiar voice came from his side. Javier turned his camera to record Scott sitting on the sand playing with the rocks while looking up and smiling at Loki. "They remind me of someone. Like a boy band, I think." Behind him stood Steve and Bucky, both shielding their eyes from the starlight with shades. Natasha was sitting next to Scott, surprisingly entertaining herself with Scott's pebbles game. "Why did we tag along, again?" Bucky asked his boyfriend. Steve puckered his lips, opening his mouth to say something. "Well, the cameras need the sexy while Wanda and Loki take care of things," Scott mentioned as he swimmingly put on his own shades for Javier's camera. Bucky and Steve seemed satisfied with that explanation before a good amount of blushing.

.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Javier and his drones pointed themselves in your direction. "They better work." Javier seemed pretty serious. "Shuri will be firing the mechanism in exactly-" Natasha looked at the countdown on her watch- "two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. So, everyone, take positions." "Wait," you begged loudly out of the blue, turning towards someone outside the frame. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, my precious baby," you croaked. Your giant floof came forward to smell you before licking your face. He chirped out loud, rubbing his head with yours. "I love you too," you announced at the edge of breaking into tears, hugging him as gently as possible. Loki blinked a few times before looking away from you. Clearing his throat, he came to stand next to you, taking his sweet time to raise his hand and pet him right where he loved it. "Don't let that witch out," he commanded softly to his pile of husk, to which Lulu replied with a loud burp that carried the cries of Aellae from the oblivion inside him. That earned him more soft pats from the God. "Will you be okay alone?" you had to ask, even though you knew that would just bring up more emotions in your throat. "Of course, he will," Loki acknowledged, pointing you in the direction of the nearest dune. There on the top stood six floofs, both big and small just like Lulu. One of them, the biggest of them all, roared with a pulsating sound. Lulu replied with a roar of his own, giving you one last tug before walking towards his pack.

"So, your powers are back," Steve commented, his thumbs resting in his belt loops as he waited for the clock to take them back home. At the same time, Scott was asking you the most awaited question. "Hey, Y/N, what happened at Jotunheim? After you were taken hostage?" Just as your inhaled a lungful and furrowed your brows at the question, Loki was smirking at the captain, moving a step closer to you to wrap his arm around your waist. Call it a reflex or a reaction built on experience but as soon as his arm was wrapping itself around your waist, your arms were grabbing onto his shoulders with your life force within one-tenth of a second "Let's test it out," the God pondered with no drop of doubt on his face, before disappearing with you. An awkward silence loomed after the golden swoop, leaving the Cap a little bit tongue-tied. "You just had to ask," Bucky rolled his eyes but the camera was zooming in on this one mischievous smirk on Natasha's lips as she took her position in the centre and pointed to the block Javier was supposed to stand on. "I am still curious-" Scott raised his hand in the air as he took his position- "in case anyone is curious."

The Lounge The continuous smacking of the LED screen was heard out of the frame while a very flushed MJ sat on the sofa, never blinking for a minute straight. The camera turned to find Peter still smacking the LED and its router while his little bulging bicep was peeking out from his half-sleeved white t-shirt. "Anything yet?" The soda that had barely reached the eighteen-year old's lips spilt a little as she found herself back in reality. "Huh? Wha-oh! No. Nothing." The flushing embarrassment must have increased tenfold on seeing the camera focused on her for she tried to shift in her seat, trying to face away from the camera. Peter stopped the smacking abruptly to let out a groan. "Come on you dumb machine! Work! We need to find out where my friends are!!!!" The 'machine' started to vibrate; the intensity increasing by the second. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to offend you," Peter was blurting out in one breath. "Peter! What did you do?!" MJ was pulling the boy away from the screen before an intense pressure of air blew them over to the sofa- Peter landing over MJ. In the very next second, you and Loki stood in the middle of the lounge, his arms still wrapped around you. Your eyes closed, your head pressed to his chest, hands clutching the fabric of his long coat as hard as possible, your existence just wanting to stay in this shell even when the people around you started to move. Peter was breathless at the sight. Pointing at you and Loki, no words coming out of his mouth, just that his eyes were getting moist by the second. "Y/N-" Loki's voice was smooth as his hand tried to move your undone hair from your face- "we're home." You made the effort to open your eyes and take a small step away from his chest, but the vertigo of space travel was still playing with your brain, making you lose your balance. Not fast enough for Loki to not catch you in his arms and bring you back to his chest. "Breathe," he ordered in his scruff yet gentle voice. And you obeyed. The camera was frozen on those pale hands holding you tightly to his chest, and that one tick of tension in the brows of the God that seemed to dissolve into a resting cold face as soon as it appeared on the surface. Once your breathing was steady, you tested your balance. "Good now?" You nodded and Loki let you go. The frame captured you slowly parting from him, your gaze stuck on his, relief on both faces, and Peter appearing in the middle with tears streaming down his face, his arms ready to take you both. "I'b soooo habby you're okayyyy," he bawled through his tears and hiccups. MJ pulled him away by his shirt. "Yes, yes, you're really happy now let them breathe first," the sweet girl ordered him in a monotonous tone. You broke into a smile at Peter's overflow of concern and Loki mirrored you all the same. A ruckus could be heard from the lab, specifically Tony asking for you. After two seconds of silence, he was bursting into the lounge breathless to find you standing there, in flesh and blood. Within the breath that you used to wave at him and say, "Hey Mr Sta-ow!" he was already hugging you with the intensity of a thousand suns. "Tony, you need to let her go before she chokes due to lack of air," Pepper pointed out as she stood next in line to hug you. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? The last feed we got was-" "Yes, Loki saved me," you assured your father, cutting him mid-sentence. "You shouldn't be expecting anything less from him by now. Right, dad?" That's it. That word did it for Tony. All the waterworks that he had been saving suddenly started to pour out while he took Loki's support as a shoulder to hide his outburst. The God softly patted the man on his back with gentle but quite awkward 'there, there's.

Two Hours Later "I'm sorry, I swear this is the last test." Bruce was adjusting his glasses on his sweaty nose, trying his best to stay composed under the stress those two dads standing behind him were giving him. Clint was even holding his resting bitch face in place. "It's okay, Mr Banner. Please take your time, as I told you the last five times." You were surprisingly calm. "Are you sure you don't feel anything weird?" Tony had to make sure.

Bruce: *sighs* Seven

"Yes," you were resisting the urge to scold him by biting your lips and closing your eyes as you lay on the table with all the scanners surrounding you, "I am fine. How about you go take a look at Javier and Loki?" "They got over with the tests half an hour ago," Clint mentioned, taking a sip of coffee from his takeaway cup. "So, there are no foreign sensations in your body?" Tony furrowed his brows as if they would have helped you answer his question. You shared a tired look with the camera.

Bruce: *groans* Eight.

"It wouldn't hurt you to trust me, Tony," Bruce finally blurted it out, picking up the syringe to draw a blood sample from you. "Oh, I trust you-" Tony nodded with assurance in Bruce's direction while Clint mimicked that nod- "it's the...other alien I don't trust." Clint shook his head. Your palms legit slapped the slab you were lying on, taking the men by a little surprise, as you got up to face them. "That alien is the reason I am here." The camera panned in on that nasty glare you were giving those two while Bruce stepped back with his needle, trying to look at anything but you. "He is also the reason you froze to death in Jotunheim." Tony was quite assertive with his voice. "Well, I am not dead, am I?" Your voice rose a tempo higher. Clint raised a brow and took small steps to join Bruce on the side. "And if you saw me in Jotunheim, I am pretty sure you damn well know that I am the one solely responsible for me dying in that frost prison because I know you know I did that on purpose!!" Tony was already matching the rage wavelength with you. "And that makes it all the more reason for you to stay away from that man." "I WAS DYING BECAUSE I WANTED TO COME HOME!!" Your outburst came with the waterworks. Your voice shook but that did not stop you from taking the floor and standing in front of your father. "AND I KNEW LOKI WAS THE ONLY CHOICE!!" "You had Carol," Tony was gritting his teeth. "She has a family to look after too, Mr Stark. And last I remember she was the one who trusted me to stay with Loki till she came back because she knew who was trustworthy. And why are we even having this discussion? That GOD literally fought his own kind for getting me and Javier home safe. What more do you want to take from him to finally see that he can be trusted? What are you afraid of? That he will trick you and take over the world? That he is planning some universal scale annihilation? Well, good for him. At least when he is not thinking of world domination he is busy saving your dumbass destructive DAUGHTER EVEN WHEN HE DOES NOT HAVE TO!!!!" The loud sobs did not stop. But Tony definitely did, watching his anger crumble as he embraced you in his arms and lightly patted your head to make you feel better. "I'm sorry," he finally confessed, "I almost felt like dying when I saw you freezing on the screen. I was angry at myself for not being able to save you." "Then why are you blaming him?" you asked in between your sobs, pointing in a general direction away from here.  "Because he was close to you and I wasn't. I am so sorry, my baby. I just wanted to give you a normal life. I just wanted you to have normal friends, normal college life, normal stuff like boyfriends who I could threaten when they came to take you out for a date. I never wanted you to just disappear into space out of nowhere." The camera turned towards a very wide-eyed Clint just staring into oblivion.

Clint: Well, I thought the older one with daddy issues would handle it well. But *chuckles* she really is his daughter. *takes a sip of his coffee* *feels the taste on his tongue* *makes a bitter face with his tongue out* Ugh! Why is this thing been tasting so bad for these past few weeks?!

A Few Minutes Later Scott, Peter and Pepper being the most avid listeners of the night, showered Loki with questions about all they witnessed on the recordings. Both boys were wearing rabbit beanies and pink pyjamas to compliment Pepper's fuzzy blue ones.  Loki- to the shock and awe of everyone who witnessed this- was unexpectedly patient, answering all their queries. "And they bought it, just like that," Pepper stated with a null expression with curious eyes. Loki shrugged, shifting his arm pillow to Pepper's side. "Their kind takes the female superiority pretty seriously. They practically pray to them. So, it wasn't that hard once Y/N told them she was my wife." Peter and Scott- with their head resting in their palms- let out a stretched 'wow' with dreamy eyes. "They surely are one of a kind." Pepper tilted her head, "Is there some sort of encyclopedia where I can learn about all these creatures? I have been craving new knowledge recently. And Tony keeps all the Discovery channel on child lock so that is not helping. At all." Scott waved a hand at Loki. "And what about the time at the bar? Those beings with long antlers. What are they called?" The camera swivelled to you standing at the entrance of the lounge smiling a glowing smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. You too were on your brown pyjamas, finally looking like a kid amongst all these super adult. Once the camera caught your attention, you nodded at it and walked towards the recording room. "Come on, let's get to it before I fall asleep for seventy-two hours."

You enter the room with a yawn and a stretch, sitting down on the chair and scratching your exposed legs in those fuzzy shorts. Once the signal is given, you look at the camera. You: *sigh* *smile lightly* Well, that was a wild ride. And even saying that is an understatement. All that stuff that we- The door opens and the camera shifts to record Tony apologising before turning to you. "Don't stay up late, okay. You need your sleep," he reminds you in a hush. You nodded and replied with a smile. A pause of three seconds and Tony walks towards you to pat your head and plant a soft kiss in your hair. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," you blow a kiss back at him. Tony walks out with the most precious smile on his face.

You: *inhales* so where were we? Yeah. *laughs* You have seen everything, right? *snickers* and this guy still said he wanted a normal life for me. *laughs some more* This is the normal, father dear. This is how it is! Normal college life? To be honest I am not that disappointed that I missed a couple of assignments. I mean you don't get to say 'I'm sorry I didn't turn in my homework because I was busy being stuck on an alien planet'. *pauses* *presses her lips together to put a stop on the smile* You: Oh! Peter has already used that line. Well, then that makes two of us. And get a boyfriend so he can threaten him? Pfft! What is this some ninety's rom-com high school drama? Someone needs to tell him his daughter hasn't dated in this lifetime. *shakes her head* *stares into oblivion* and with the kind of things, a hundred things, she looks for in one single man guy, she might date in this lifetime... or the next one. *makes a face at her own thoughts* You: *groans* I mean come on! I can't just start dating a guy. You saw how I was when everyone around me was a complete stranger. I barely talked! *looks at the person behind the camera* You: What do I look for in a ma-that's a long list sweety. *shakes head vigorously before giving up* *long sigh* *licks lips* *shrugs* Well, the first thing I want in someone I would consider to be eligible as someone dateable would a person who is my friend.

Recording flips to the small clips of you meeting Loki for the first time, bickering, fighting, laughing together, pranking each other, watching movies together, sharing secrets about the other avengers and reading books together in the library.

A person who *thinks for a moment* gets how important family is to me. And when I say family...well, you know what I mean.

Another clip edit shows the God helping Bucky train in the training room, teaching Natasha about new poisons, blocking all the foreign sounds from the lounge when Pepper was soothing her belly and watching Boys Over Flowers. One time he lifted all the heavy furniture while Tony stress-cleaned the entire place all the while the God read a book. Another time he kept replacing Clint's coffee with a substitute that was good for his heart and tasted better.

I would want to date someone who gives me attention? *tsks* In the sense that they know I am there. I don't know if that makes sense.

Flip to the clips showing Loki moving the side table out of your way- with his magic- when you were busy dancing with your headphones on; him cooling down your tea to bring to a drinkable temperature; him threatening Sam so he doesn't eat your period chocolates; his concerned eyes stuck on you when you were stressed out about your exams at two in the morning in the library before he got you something to drink and offered to go in your place instead; he and Peter playing darts with David's face pasted on the dartboard; him taking the fairy lights from you to place them near the roof where you could not reach, in your room.

Someone who is funny.

The flip is to all the clips where you are either snickering, giggling or cackling with laughter, choking on your drink after Loki said something sarcastic with a straight face.

Someone who respects my space and my decisions

The recording shows Loki smiling while looking at you lecturing the men in the house about mansplaining and how it was an inherent thing for some; the God helping you make sandwiches for the Avenger's donation drive to Stark orphanage; Loki being the first to ask 'want me to help you pack' when you announced to the family you were going to visit a haunted house with your college friends; Loki putting a repel spell on your door when you wanted to be alone; him just sitting in his room by the window reading while you took his entire bed to make zentangles, neither of you talking throughout the time together.

Someone who is not afraid of physical touch. I would really want that.

All the falls that Loki saved you from with his arms, chest and entire body, be it in the Avengers facility or out in space; all the hugs he gave you at your low points; all the pats on your back flash one by one on the screen.

Someone who is *shrugs* *smiles a weak smile* happy for my existence? *brows furrow though the smile is stuck on your face* Someone...who I can get comfortable with. I don't have to put up a facade for them.

Edit flashes of all the moments where Loki gravitates to come and sit next to you, be it in the lounge, the library, the lab, the training room, the spaceship, alien planets. Another edit is of all the moments when you gravitate towards Loki, sometimes a mess in your nightclothes, hair unkempt, burping out loud, sometimes farting without any restrictions, other times groaning and letting your head rest on his shoulder. Other times just plane crying ugly in front of him.

*blinks* *furrows brows further* Someone...who I feel safe with?

This time the shift is to the clips where you are drunk and coming home from the club and Loki is supporting your frame to walk you to your room; another clip shows you watching a horror movie in the lounge late at night and you are burrowing your face behind his shoulder while he sits there with discomfort on his face for whatever movie both of you are watching; there is one where you are not feeling evidently anxious in the crowd of aliens and the camera is zooming in on you fingers lightly holding on to the edge of Loki's coat while you both walk through the market; another one is of you smiling as you look at Loki gush over the simulators in the modified spaceship; then there is one where you are smiling once again despite being surround by lethal frost giants and the reason of you smile being the God who is standing beside you and at the same time standing a step ahead of you to act as a shield for anyone who dares do anything in your direction. 

You are evidently surrounded by clouds of confusion and doubt hiding an impending realisation somewhere inside them. Your lips are parted but no sound comes out. Just when you feel like you have it, confusion grows darker on your features. The door clicks open and Loki's face pops in to find you in the room. The surprise on your face does not go unnoticed by either him or the camera. "You do realise you teleported here in terms of light-years," Loki comments. "Huh?" is all you can manage. "Go get some sleep before Clint comes to kill me in my sleep," he orders before turning towards the camera and finally walking out. A good few seconds pass in deafening silence. Your eyes are still stuck on the door. A few blinks later your eyes go wider. Even the camera knows what has happened for it is panning on the unadulterated shock on your face as your lips finally move to express this newfound theory. "...oh fuck."

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

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

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

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

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

[phaticserpent]

Raining Men

Pitch Black x gender neutral! Reader

< just for fun >

Prompt: when Pitch was blasted out of the sky and landed in the snow, he wasn’t alone

You had been out capturing the snowy landscape, when there was a groundbreaking explosion. Not from the ground, it came from above. You took a snapshot of the thing in the sky. It wasn’t smoking, so it wasn’t fire based. It looked like icicles. You quickly captured a few more before it vanished, ignoring the dark figure of a sleigh slip by. With your focus on the lens, you didn’t register a shape growing closer and closer—

“Umph!” The breath was knocked out of you and all you could see was black.

“Hello? Excuse me, are you alright? Oh my....hello?” A voice broke through the darkness. “Can they even hear me? If I didn’t pass right through them, then surely they can hear me.” You started to blink rapidly, trying to clear the blurred world.

“Hm? What.....what happened?” You sat up and winced at the gnawing headache.

“I may have crash landed on you. My sincerest apologies, I assumed no one would be around at such a late hour.” He held out a hand for you to take, you thanked him as he pulled you up. You started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“It really is raining men.”

“Ah, The Weather Girls. You have taste.” Pitch chuckled as you brushed off the snow. “Surely we should get to cover before more men rain on us.”

“Oh definitely. I’m [Y/N] [L/N].”

“Nice to formally meet you, [Y/N]. I’m Pitch Black.”

“Your name is....peculiar.”

“I’ve heard that one.” He smirked. “I don’t take any offense, it was a given name and it stuck. May I ask what you were doing so late?”

“Taking pictures.” You lifted your camera to notice the cracked lens and broken frames. “Oh no!”

“Oh.” Pitch hissed. “I’m sorry—“

“You don’t have to apologize.” You chuckled. “I know my friend can repair it, the damage isn’t too severe, thankfully.” You sighed and returned the camera into its case. At least I got some pics.

“May I offer to walk you home?” He suggested.

“You may.” You grinned. It was a long and silent walk.

“I expected your home to be nearby.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I’ve been outside since the sun set. It took me.....almost an hour to reach that spot.”

“Oh my. You aren’t afraid of the darkness?”

“Not really. Honestly, I just think I’m distracted behind the lenses to notice. Sometimes I would take so many pictures and wouldn’t even know that it’s midnight.”

“That is quite intriguing. It must be due to the adjustment of the blinding lights on your camera or the street lamps.”

“Must be.” You smiled. Eventually, you reached your house. It had an unwelcoming aura to it and you felt nervous to enter. “Could you......come in with me?”

“Of course.” Pitch could smell the fear reek off of you as you stepped closer and closer to your home. He grew curious. It’s not like you meet anyone who has a fear of their most comforting place. Both of you stepped through the front door and you flicked the lights on. It was bland and messy. “You seem tense. May I ask why? Is your house haunted?”

“Oh gods no! Ever since I moved here, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched or scared. I try to stay here as little as possible.”

“Where do you feel watched?”

“The bathroom, basement and kitchen.”

“Ah.” Pitch smirked. “It seems a parasite has followed you home. Akhos, you can reveal yourself.” The two of you waited until a figure emerged from your bathroom tub.

“Don’t call me a parasite. You know I’m a spirit.” Akhos scoffed. He then turned to you. “I’m the Daemon of grief, distress, and any type of pain. Bodily and mind. Your distress attracted me when you first arrived. It was......alluring. Too hard to resist. Sorry about tainting your mind.”

“Oh.” Was all you could muster out. “I’m going to need a few moments.” You settled on the couch, pushing off the photography magazines and textbooks while Akhos and Pitch started talking. Pitch then joined you on the couch.

“I had Akhos never to bother you again.”

“Thank you.”

“It seems your troubles are put to an end, I’ll be going.”

“No.....” you reached out to him. “Can you stay? Please.” Pitch seemed to consider. His gaze fell on your hand that had reached out to grab his hand.

“Of course.” The night consisted of you two talking and sharing a glass of wine. You had fallen asleep earlier than intended and by early, it actually meant 3 in the morning. Pitch carried you to your bedroom, he had actually passed it a few times due to the mess. He stared at you as you dreamt of strange landscapes. You woke up to an empty house.

[oliviaischillin1204]

teach me how

Pairings: Romantic Intrulogical

Word Count: 4,405

Warnings: brief reference to sex, v brief reference to non consensual kissing

don’t got nothing to say for this, it was just a fun idea i had!

In Logan’s defense, there was really no way for him to see this coming.

He and Remus had been planning on spending the day in bed together. Remus had made sure to announce this fact loudly at breakfast, causing Roman to gag into his bowl of cereal as Remus began to describe in detail what exactly he and Logan would be doing all day.

Well. There was some truth to what Remus had said. But really, they had spent most the day curled up under the covers together, watching true crime documentaries and murder mystery movies. Nothing says romance like a cheesy severed head or some aesthetically pleasing blood splatters on the camera lens.

At the moment, Logan was trying to pay attention to the TV, but he found himself rather distracted by the feeling of Remus’ legs intertwined with his own. The creative side could hardly sit still if his life depended on it, and even now he slowly and rhythmically shifted one leg back and forth, rubbing against Logan’s shin with his own. Apart from the occasional leg hair geting pulled by accident, Logan found his lover’s warm touch to be hugely comforting, to the point where he found himself struggled not to fall asleep in Remus’ embrace.

He had just snapped his head up for the third time in five minutes when Remus laughed.

“Gettin’ sleepy, Teach?”

“Only because you’re so boring.” Logan smirked at Remus’ affronted gasp.

“Ouch, Lo! Who taught you how to give a comeback?”

“I’ve learned from the best,” Logan replied, bringing a hand up to cup Remus’ cheek.

The creative side blinked wildly for a moment before pushing Logan’s hand away, a rare blush covering his face.

“Why’d you have to be all yucky and sentimental? Now all I wanna do it kiss your dumb face.”

“I certainly wouldn’t complain.”

The two leaned forward without another word, pressing their lips together in a kiss just this side of decent. It was Logan who pulled away, smirking at his boyfriend.

“Are you even attempting to pay attention to the movie?”

Remus’ jaw dropped. “Me? You’re the one that fell asleep! Besides,” he continued, “isn’t this much more fun?”

He leaned back in to kiss Logan again, but the logical side turned his head away.

Unfortunately, Remus redirected his kiss directly into the crook of Logan’s neck.

Logan felt his entire body jerk in response.

“Remus!” He said, his voice going suspiciously high pitched. “No!”

“No what? You don’t like my kisses?” Remus asked, placing another, and another, and another on Logan’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s torso, keeping him from squirming away.

Logan struggled a bit in his grip, feeling laughter bubble up in his throat. “Stop!”

Logan hadn’t meant to actually say that, but before he could even realize what he’d said, Remus had let him go and pulled away completely.

“I’m sorry.”

Logan blinked, a little dazed at the sudden mood change. “What?”

Remus groaned. “Don’t make me say it again, you know I hate that shit.” He fiddled with the bedspread for a moment before continuing, “I didn’t realize you wanted me to actually stop. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes wide. Remus shuddered.

“God, is that what it’s like being considerate for other’s feelings? So weird.”

“No, no, Remus, you’re fine!” Logan blurted belatedly, causing his partner to shoot him a quizzical look. He faltered for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I- I have something I want to tell you, as my partner,” he managed, willing himself not to blush. He had thought about telling Remus sooner, but he’d been too worried about how his boyfriend would respond. But they had been together for a while now, and despite Logan’s long list of quirks, Remus had never made him feel less than because of them. He knew he was ready to share this secret with his supportive, loving boyfriend.

“Is it a sex thing?” Remus asked, blunt as ever.

Logan gave a short laugh, unsurprised. “No, it’s not a ‘sex thing’. I just...”

Now he paused, his own fingers tracing the design on the bedspread as he worked up his courage.

Finally, without meeting Remus’ gaze, he muttered, “... I didn’t mind that.”

“Didn’t mind what?” Remus replied.

“What you were just doing.”

There was a slight pause before Remus responded, “The kissing? I don’t mind it either-”

“Not that!” Logan interjected, feeling a blush rise to his face. God, Remus was going to make him say it, wasn’t he?

“The- the... ugh.” He took a deep breath before just spitting it out. “The tickling.”

“What’s that?”

Logan looked at Remus, waiting for the punchline. None came.

“Excuse me?”

Remus quirked his head to the side. “What’s tickling?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. Opened it, then closed it again.

“There’s no possible way you don’t know what that word means.”

Remus shrugged. “Not my area of expertise, I guess,” he said, still watching Logan with a confused look on his face.

For some reason, Remus’ complete lack of understanding of what Logan was trying to say made his courage vanish quick as lightning. “It is unimportant. I apologize for bringing it up.”

He moved to lie back against his boyfriend’s chest, but what jostled rather roughly as the creative side sat up.

“No, no, wait a dang minute! You said you liked it, right? And I like to make you happy. So let’s do it!” He leaned over Logan, determination in his eyes.

Logan blinked at his surprising enthusiasm. “You would do that for me?”

Remus smiled again, shaking his head incredulously. “Why wouldn’t I? I love ya, Logan.”

He’d heard those words spoken so many times before, but Logan never tired of the butterflies he felt in his chest at Remus’ earnest adoration. “I love you, too.”

Remus’ eyes softened, before he rubbed his hands together with excitement. “Okay, well, just tell me what to do!”

Logan thought for a second. How do you teach someone how to... do this?

“... Give me a moment.”

He untangeled himself from their bedsheets, smirking a bit when his boyfriend whined at the loss of contact. He moved to the dresser, sorting through with slightly shaky hands before pulling out a pair of gym shorts. They were lightweight and slighty baggy; Logan quickly changed into them, out of the thick flannel pajama bottoms he was wearing. On a whim, he pulled off his t-shirt as well, turning to face Remus with his arms shyly crossed over his bare chest.

Remus wolf whistled. “Why are you stripping?”

“It’s... easier, and more fun, when there are less layers in the way.” Logan briefly thought of the fun that could be had with multiple layers, each one getting gradually removed as the tickles became more and more intense, but he shoved that scenario away for another time.

Remus titled his head, smiling in bemusement. “I still don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“It’s-” Logan gestured with his hands, sighing a little bit as he felt himself begin to blush. “I am sensitive to certain types of touch. That’s called being... ticklish. You are going to be stimulating my nerve endings in a way that provokes laughter.”

He laid on his back in the middle of the bed, Remus sitting criss cross applesauce next to him.

“You mean when I touch you, it’s tickling, and that makes you wanna laugh?”

“Not every touch,” Logan explained. “There are two kinds of t- tickling. Knismesis and gargalesis.”

“Wait, should I be taking notes on this shit?” Remus asked, only half-joking.

Logan gave a fond sigh. “Just give me your hand.”

Remus obediently held out his hand, and Logan grabbed his wrist, flipping it so his palm was facing down. He manuevered Remus’ hand above his stomach and gently lowered it so that Remus’ fingertips were barely tracing the skin.

“This is knismesis- meaning, uh, light tickling.” After a few seconds, Logan released his hand, allowing Remus to continue to drift his hand over his tummy, circling around with no rhyme or reason.

Remus frowned. “You’re not laughing. Am I doing it wrong?”

“Well, my stomach is not particularly receptive to knismesis- at least, initially, that is,” Logan said, switching into lecture mode. “After some exposure to the secondary method, gargalesis, I will most likely be more outwardly reactive to either method, due to-”

“Where should I tickle you, then?” Remus interrupted.

Logan bluescreened.

“Um. Um. Um. My sides.”

Remus moved his hand outwards, tracing the skin just as lightly as he had on Logan’s stomach. “Like this?”

Logan was going to respond, but he found himself exhaling in short, sharp breaths whenever he opened his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Again Remus’ tone was full of worry, so Logan quickly nodded.

“Yes,” he said, hissing the word a little when Remus’ fingers met the dip of his waistline.

“Does this hurt you?”

“No-” The word got strangled in Logan’s throat, and his lips stretched into a half smile, half grimace.

Remus chuckled a little at Logan’s bizzare outward reaction. “Your face just, like, went all screwy. Why?”

“It- it’s just an involuntary reaction my body does when I’m ti-ickled!” Logan’s voice cracked, his back arching in response a new sensation on his skin.

“What did I do?” Remus asked. Logan had to sneak a peek to where his fingers were tracing over his side: nothing had changed, except-

“Your fingernails,” Logan realized, eyes locked onto the way Remus’ fingers had curled slightly inward, causing his nails to drift over Logan’s skin as opposed to the pads of his fingers.

“They- they are- hmm, they add to the knismesis sensation.” He could barely get the words out through his huffs of almost-giggles, his torso attempting to squirm away from the tickles.

Remus stayed silent for a few beats before humming in understanding, and suddenly both hands were purposely spidering their nails along each of Logan’s sides. He let out a frankly embarrassing noise, jerking his upper body one way and another, but the way Remus’ was targeting both sides at once made it impossible to escape.

“Do they tickle more?” Remus asked, and something about the genuine  curiosity in his voice was making the sensations even more unbearable. “Logan? Lo, do the nails tickle more-”

“Yes yes yehehes!” Logan threw his head back onto the pillow, laughter quickly escalating as Remus experimented between spidering and scratching and skimming the skin.

“Wow, you’re laughing so hard, Lo. This is fun!”

“Stahahap-!”

Immediately Remus’ hands were off of him, allowing Logan the chance to breathe.

“Are we done already?”

Logan took the break to catch his breath. “No, I- I apologize, we should have discussed this before we started.”

He thought for a moment about how to phrase his next statement.

“I will occasionally say things that imply that I want you to stop, when in reality, I don’t.”

Remus tilted his head. “Why?”

“It’s another involuntary reaction to the sensations,” Logan replied. “My fight-or-flight reflexes are kicking in, causing my brain to attempt any and all ‘escape routes’, including asking for mercy or relief. However, part of the... appeal, for me, is feeling-”

He stammered slightly, feeling his face heat up as he forced himself to continue through gritted teeth.

“Feeling... helpless. So, when I say ‘no’ or ‘stop’, I don’t want you to stop.”

“Oh-kay,” Remus said hesitantly. “But how will I know when to actually stop?”

“I believe the implementation of the ‘traffic light’ system is the most efficient in this scenario,” Logan replied. ‘Yellow’ means I need a break, ‘red’ means stop completely. It’s a fairly common method of safewords for situations like this.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “How much research have you done on tickling, teach?”

So much research, Logan thought. What came out sounded more like, “Hnng.”

He blushed even further at the snickers coming out of Remus’ mouth. “Your face is redder than a blood-soaked apple! What’s up with that?”

“Mhmm, I-” His voice cracked, God damn it.

Logan stared at the ceiling, doing everything in his power to keep his voice neutral as he continued, “I find talking about... this subject to be rather... embarrassing,” he ground out.

“Is that why you keep stuttering whenever you say the word ‘tickle’? And why you’ve been blushing like crazy this whole time? Because you’re embarrased?”

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Logan felt his face flush even further.

“... Yes.”

It was silent for a moment. Until Remus began to laugh.

Logan looked up at his Remus, who wasn’t even trying to hide his snickers as he looked down at his boyfriend.

“That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Remus said gleefully.

Logan pouted. “Shut up.”

“Oh, is that another one of those things you say, but you don’t actually want me to do?”

“Remus.”

“What? I’m just asking! Apparently I’ve got a lot to learn about this tickling shit. Lucky for me, I’ve got the perfect teacher.”

He leaned down to give Logan a quick peck on the mouth, whose petulant expression softened just a bit.

“Thank you.”

Remus looked back down at Logan’s torso with an expression that made the logical side more than a bit nervous.

“So, where to next with this kin-nemesis thing?”

“Knismesis,” Logan corrected.

“That’s what I said. Let’s see, we’ve done tummy and sides. Where else can I go?”

Logan actually pondered the question for a second. He didn’t want to push himself too far- nor did he want to give Remus complete knowledge of how to wreck him (at least, not yet).

“I believe right now I would prefer to limit this demonstration to my upper body only, but there are still several different areas that would be receptive to a lighter touch.”

“Like...?” Remus prompted.

Logan faltered. “My... hips...”

Remus raised one eyebrow at him, slowly lifting his hand through the air and hovering it right over Logan’s pantline. His eyes slid back to Logan’s face, who nodded at him to begin.

Logan’s entire body constricted the instant he felt Remus’ fingers touch down in that horrifically sensitive stretch of skin between his hipbones. His giggles fell out of his mouth before he could even try to stop them, and it took everything in his power to not curl up into a ball to protect himself.

It only got worse as Remus began tickling him with intention, using his nails to trace over the skin.

“I don’t get why this is so much more ticklish that your tummy? They’re right next to each other.”

Logan threw his head back and forth, unable to respond to Remus’ idle conversation.

“Mm, mhmm, R-Remus, nohoho-”

“Wow, you can’t even talk! You’re too giggly!”

Logan flushed. He opened his mouth to deliver assure his boyfriend that he was still perfectly capable of speech, thank you very much-

And of course, Remus’ chose that exact second to latch both hands to his hip bones and go to town, lightly clawing around each of the sensitive bones.

Logan squealed through his laughter, unable to stop himself from jerking his hips back and forth, desperately trying to escape from Remus’ torturous hands.

His boyfriend only laughed, easily following Logan’s movements as he refused to abandon this giggle goldmine.

“Stay still!” He warned playfully. “Or else I’m gonna have to tie you down!”

Logan was not resonsible for the noise that escaped from his throat at Remus’ tease. Images of Remus binding his hands above him, his legs tied to the bedframe, pulled taut and immobile as Remus continued his tickling lesson all over Logan’s restrained body, filled his head. Logan was sure his face looked like a tomato at this point.

Remus took in Logan’s reaction, his hands halting as his jaw dropped. “Wait, can we do that?”

Logan couldn’t even look at the shit-eating grin his boyfriend was giving him right now. “Not tonight, but... in the future, I- I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Remus continued to look at him with wide eyes. Logan couldn’t help but smile at the honestly joyful expression on his face as he looked back down at Logan’s body.

“I love tickling,” Remus whispered reverantly. Logan’s breath hitched. He’d been dreaming of this for so long, he couldn’t believe it was actually happening to him.

He cleared his throat, bringing both of them back to reality. “I believe I am ready to move onto the second method. Gargalesis.”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, scooting even closer to Logan’s body to have full reach over his torso.

“Where can I start?”

Logan flushed a little under Remus’ attentive gaze. His boyfriend’s unintentional teasing was almost as bad as if he were trying to tease him. It was infuriatingly endearing.

“My stomach,” he blurted out.

Remus nodded, placing his hands on Logan’s lower stomach. 

“How do I do this, Teach?”

Logan was having a little trouble speaking, because Remus’ hands were warm and his touch was soothing, but his fingers were curling inwards and his nails were barely grazing the skin and his thumbs were twitching and Logan was suddenly very, very aware of how much power he was giving his boyfriend, and how completely vulnerable he was making himself right now-

“Logan,” Remus said with a smile, and Logan was so worked up he almost didn’t notice the teasing tone of voice. Almost.

“If you don’t tell me exactly what to do,” Remus continued, “I can’t tickle you.”

He started rubbing his hands in circles around Logan’s stomach, and even though it didn’t really tickle, it did succeed in making Logan even more desperate than he already was.

“Just press into my stomach,” he exclaimed, his face burning. “Like- like this.”

Logan raised his hands, flexing his fingers to demonstrate.

Remus had barely taken a second to watch Logan’s hands before trying it for himself, prodding his fingers into the soft fat of Logan’s stomach.

Immediately Logan’s hands spasmed, jerking to drag Remus’ hands away from his sensitive stomach before Logan could get himself under control. He felt a rush of nervous giggles forcing their way out of his throat.

Remus’ fingers traveled all over his stomach, making sure to throughly inspect any particular spots that made Logan jump or squeak or otherwise imply it’s an especially ticklish spot. Remus cast a glance to him.

“Is this good, Lo?”

Logan could only nod, his laughter increasing both in pitch and volume as Remus’ fingers began prodding the pudge around his bellybutton. One hand clenched into a fist and began sporadically beating the mattress beside him, while the other flew to cover his mouth.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Don’t hide your pretty little smile from me, Logan,” he warned, hands creeping closer and closer inwards. Logan realized he was shaking his head, which only seemed to spur Remus on.

“What, is this a bad spot?” he asked. “Your bellybutton’s too ticklish?”

“Nohohoho!” Logan squealed through his laughter, but Remus only laughed, his fingers spiraling ever closer.

“Are you green, Lo?” he asked. His tone was teasy, but he did keep his eyes on Logan’s face.

Logan tore his eyes away from Remus’ finger, now hovering over his bellybutton. He took a deep, steadying breath, and met Remus’ eyes.

“I’m green.”

As soon as the word was out of his mouth, Remus dug his finger into Logan’s navel. Logan gasped through his laughter, bucking his hips in a weak attempt to jostle Remus’ finger out, but the creative side just smirked and placed one hand on his hips, holding him in place.

“Remus!” Logan’s hands scrabbled against the sheets, looking for anything to hold onto so he wouldn’t try to push Remus away. His boyfriend only stayed in that spot for a few seconds before pulling away, swooping his hands up to latch onto Logan’s sides.

“Are you ticklish here, Lo?”

He squeezed once, his thumbs digging in below Logan’s ribs while his other fingers curled into the stretch of skin between Logan’s sides and his back.

Logan barely heard him over the sound of his own laughter, especially when Remus vibrated his hands against the spot, sending a new wave of wheezing giggles from his mouth. He abruptly realized that he was running low on breath, but as soon as he had this realization Remus’ hands were off of him.

“You need a break?” Remus asked. Logan nodded, hit with a wave of gratitude that Remus could tell what he needed before he even said anything.

“Just from that spot,” he replied. “You may continue ti- doing that somewhere else.”

Remus smirked at Logan’s stammer, but he did hold his hands over Logan’s torso again. “Where?”

“My ribs,” Logan said. It wasn’t his absolute worse spot, but it was up there; however, as Remus delicately ran his fingers down his ribcage it was almost relaxing.

Logan sighed, body arching slightly into Remus’ touch.

“You like it here?” Remus asked. Logan couldn’t tell if he was teasing again, or genuinely curious, but he nodded all the same.

Remus hummed in understanding. He shifted to get a better angle, but the movement caused his fingers to press slightly into Logan’s lower ribs. He jerked to the side, small giggles escaping from his mouth.

Remus tilted his head. “So both methods tickle you here?”

Logan paused for just a second, then nodded. “Well... the two methods impact me differently, but yes, they are both effective.”

“There’re so many options,” Remus murmured, almost to himself. Logan could practically see the gears turning in his head. It was endearing, but if Logan was honest, there was an infinitesimal feeling of fear in his chest, because Remus, by definition, could be very creative.

“Like, what would you do if I did this?”

Suddenly he was straddling Logan’s hips, eyeing him with extreme scrutiny. Logan’s jaw dropped, his cheeks flushing as he tried speak, but then Remus’ hands were on either side of his ribs, and whatever Logan was about to say died on his tongue.

“What if I tickle lightly over here...”

Remus’ fingers began spidering up the right side of Logan’s ribs, going almost to his underarms before spidering their way back down again. Logan’s giggles started anew, having recovered some of his energy from his break.

“... And hard over here?”

And then his other hand was clawing at the crevices between Logan’s left ribs, causing his laughter to intensify drastically. He immediately started leaning his torso as far from the touches as he could, but with Remus’ weight on his hips he couldn’t get very far.

“I can switch back and forth on each side,” Remus pondered aloud, “or I can go from really soft to really hard to really soft again...”

Something about the way he was narrating his process was making Logan feel even more flustered, and he whined through his laughter.

Remus trailed his nails down Logan’s ribcage, only to vibrate his thumbs into his lowest rib. Logan let out a couple snorts between his giggles, and Remus’ grin turned predatory.

“Oh, now that we’re definitely gonna have to investigate.” He repeated the motion, really making sure that he dug all around that sensitive bone.

“Rehehemus!”

His boyfriend chuckled, slowing his hands slightly.

“Yes, Logan?”

The two made intense eye contact.

Logan hesitated for just a moment before folding his arms behind his head.

“Try tracing down my forearms.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, but he did as Logan suggested. His fingers touched down on the skin below Logan’s elbow, and Logan fought to stay still as the gentle touch slowly trailed down his arms and closer to his pits.

Finally Remus reached his underarms, moving his fingers in small circles as he scratched his nails against Logan’s hollows.

“Does that tickle?”

Logan’s breath was coming out in faster and faster huffs.

“Y-yes, somewhat,” he managed.

Without warning, Remus abruptly dug a finger into the center of each of Logan’s pits, wiggling them deep into the muscle.

Logan would swear up and down that the noise he made was not a shriek, but Remus would say otherwise. Either way, it was obvious that Logan was caught completely off guard by the immediate elevation into rougher tickles.

His arms stayed up for about half a second before they came crashing down to his sides, which Logan instantly regretted, because now Remus’ hands were trapped in his pits and his fingers were still wiggling and fuck, dropping his arms shouldn’t have made it tickle so much worse but it does, it does, it does-

“Red! Red!”

Remus didn’t hesitate, yanking his arms back so quickly Logan briefly wondered if he’d hurt himself.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked immediately, practically crawling backwards on the bed to give Logan even more room.

Logan wrapped his arms as tightly around himself as he could. He curled inwards, body reflexively attempting to protect itself anyway it could. But he made sure to nod enough for Remus’ benefit.

“I am- I am fine,” he managed as he caught his breath. “Normally I would call ‘yellow’ before going straight to ‘red’, but that was- um.”

He cleared his throat, not meeting Remus’ gaze. “That was... much more intense than I had anticipated.”

Remus hesitantly crawled back towards him. He smirked. “You don’t have a lot of resistance built up against tickling, huh?”

Logan huffed. “That is not my fault. I don’t have any experience with it.”

Remus grabbed his hand, bringing up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “That’s gonna have to change,” he murmured, “because there’s no way in hell we’re not doing this again.”

Logan flushed yet again, but he didn’t have much energy to even pretend that he didn’t want that. Instead he merely nodded, pulling Remus by the hand as he fell backwards against the pillows.

“If you would be so inclined,” he muttered, “I believe cuddling would feel very pleasant right now.”

“Oh, hell yes!” Remus wasted no time in diving back under the covers, rearranging the two of them so Logan’s head could rest on Remus shoulder.

“Good?” he asked. Logan sighed contentedly, looking up at his partner’s soft smile.

“Exceedingly so,” he replied. He stifled a yawn, his eyes drooping shut.

“Thank you, Remus.”

He heard his boyfriend laugh lightly, and felt a small kiss against his temple. “Anything for you, Logan.”

[puckinghell]

In secret kiss with Willy?

I had this ready to go up and I figured after the stream today it must be fate. It’s so fricking long sorry I could’ve wrote a whole three part fic for this I think

–

You’d known this was going to suck, but as you watch Will’s back disappear into the crowd, you start to wondering if you should’ve just called in sick.

There’s an ugly knot in the pit of your stomach, and you don’t like it being there. After all, you and Will are not a couple.

You couldn’t be, even if you wanted to.

When you were hired as the Leafs’ photographer, it felt like the best day of your life. Who doesn’t want to do the job they love, for their favorite sports team? You were born and raised a Leafs fan and if you could’ve picked any job in the world, you would be right where you are now, taking pictures of Auston Matthews’ horrible mustache.

Didn’t mean you weren’t fricking nervous when you walked into Kyle Dubas’ office to sign your contract.

But he seemed nice enough, made pleasant small talk with you and complimented your portfolio. It wasn’t until you shook his hand, ready to leave and planning to call your dad and scream into the phone for a solid half hour, that Kyle’s face went strangely serious.

“There will be a lot of contact with the players, as you’ll be traveling with them and join them at events, but I would recommend you keep it to a strictly professional level.”

The words had thrown you and all you’d been able to say was, “Oh?”

Kyle pulled a face. “Just, our last PR person… She didn’t, and unfortunately she’s no longer with us.”

You hadn’t known it at the time but Morgan told you the story later: apparently years ago the PR girl had a thing with a player and when they broke up, they could no longer work together and one of them had to go.

And you don’t fire your 2nd line center.

But even before that story, you had seen the look in Kyle’s eyes and thought: no way.

This was your dream job, and there’s nothing, and nobody, you would risk that for.

Enter William Nylander.

You didn’t even really notice it until it was way too late, until he was pressing you into the wall in a hotel hallway, his fingers digging into your hips, leaving hot kisses all down your neck, until he muttered a quiet: “My room’s right here.”

And by then, you were too far gone.

See, at first you thought Will was just being friendly, because he’s friendly to everyone, all the time. You’ve rarely seen him in a bad mood, even when things weren’t going so well for him; he’s never rude, never stuck up, and only when things are really bad, he goes a little quiet.

But then you started noticing that he was not only being overly friendly, he was also seeking your company literally all the time, and he would touch you without reason – just his hand on your lower back or your arm as he brushed by, or a half hug after games.

And, well, yadayada, from one thing came the next, and now you think you’re kinda dating except you’re not, because you can’t and will not lose this job, but you’re definitely sleeping together, which is probably also against Kyle’s rules, but you haven’t checked.

It’s working decently well for you; Will is an affectionate enough guy that his teammates don’t bat an eyelash when he half drapes himself over you and he’s spontaneous enough that they don’t even look up when he leaves halfway through dinner.

You’re enjoying yourself.

But.

These team galas are always fun because you get to go around and take pictures of the boys having a good time, and they’ll pull you in and rope you into any conversation, so you end up just chatting with them and taking sips of their champagne.

But the last time you did one of these, you weren’t sleeping with Will yet, so you didn’t care about the fact that there’s always different girls around whose main objective, you think, is to see how many times they can bat their eyelashes at a Leafs player.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind – you do you, girl, get it – except now…

Except now you’re gritting your teeth and staring at a beautiful girl hanging off Will’s arm, and you think if you squeeze your camera any harder the lens is gonna crack.

But you can’t very well do anything about it.

“You okay there?”  Of course it’s Zach Hyman, an amused and all-too-knowing smile on his face as he approaches you.

If you would’ve put money on the first person to figure out what’s happening, it would’ve been Morgan or maybe Muzz, but it certainly wouldn’t have been Zach. Except it should’ve been, because Zach and Will seem to have this telepathic connection that means any time Will looks in your direction a bit too long, Zach seems to catch it.

He hasn’t said anything. So far.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “Don’t you have some sponsor to talk to?”

Zach only laughs, ignores your question. “That girl he’s talking to hooked up with Kappy last year and he knows it. He’s not interesting. But he can’t just ignore her with all the sponsors watching, that’d be rude.”

You absolutely do not appreciate the way your stomach lurches, at that information.

“You should go over there,” Zach continues. “He’s looking for someone to rescue him.”

You did notice Will look around in somewhat desperate fashion, but there’s not really a lot you can do about it.

Especially since you just saw Kyle somewhere in that general direction.

“I can’t,” you manage to bring out, and you have no idea what Zach knows but his face softens.

“How about,” he hums, taking your arm as he starts to guide you in Will’s direction, “you go take a picture of me and Will? Our suits match.”

Their suits are both some shade of grey, but that’s as close as they get; however you take Zach’s excuse for what it is and follow him towards Will.

When Will catches your eyes, his face lights up.

“Y/N!” he exclaims, cutting the girl off in the middle of a sentence. “Zachy! How nice to see you.”

“We did say we need a picture together.” Zach motions to you. “Found her.”

“Huh?” Will looks confused as he clearly tries to rack his brain for when that conversation happened and comes up with nothing, but then it seems to click. “Oh, I did say that, huh? Let’s do it. Sorry, Melanie, give me a minute.”

Zach puts his arm around Will’s shoulders and they pose. You take the picture and notice, to your annoyance, that the girl – Melanie – is still standing there, clearly waiting for Will to be done.

You desperately wish Kappy would appear; he’s always flirting with random blonde girls but when you need him to, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Let me see it,” Will demands, hand grasping your elbow and tugging you closer to him. It’s a weird request, because for as much people seem to think Will is vain, he is one of the only ones that never requests to proof his photos.

Maybe he knows he always looks stupidly good.

You let yourself be tugged against him anyway, because, well, obviously, and try to still your shaking hands when he hooks his chin over your shoulder to look at the screen of the camera.

What you don’t expect is for him to put his lips near your ear and mumble: “Back door, 2 minutes.”

Before you can ask him what the hell he’s talking about he grins and exclaims loudly: “That’s a good picture! I actually wanted one with Kap, too, I’m gonna go find him.” And disappears into the crowd.

Zach sends you a knowing grin, then turns to Melanie.

“So, how’s your evening been?”

Although Melanie seems a bit downed by the ring on Zach’s finger, she still goes straight into the small talk and you manage to slip away, making a mental note to thank Zach later.

And buy him the best Christmas present ever this year.

You find the back door and slip out; it leads to an alley that’s both dark and empty, except for the blonde guy in a suit, leaning against the wall.

“Mitchy told me about this,” he grins. “Said him and Steph snuck off last year and nobody found them for hours until someone came out for a smoke.”

You don’t even manage to answer him before his hands find your hips and yank, having you stumble straight into his body, falling against his chest. His face is close enough that you can see the darkness in his eyes, and the tilt of his lips.

“Kyle doesn’t smoke,” Will whispers against your lips, and then he kisses you.

Despite being in a literal alley trying to sneak away from your employer, making out secretly beside a dumpster, Will kisses you slow and deep, until your toes are curling in your way too uncomfortable heels.

Your hands make their way to his waist and you feel the hard panes of his abs under his shirt, and then he shifts his thigh between yours and you feel something else hard, as well.

Finally he breaks the kiss. You feel a bit dazed as he goes to nip on the skin below your ear, voice low as he mumbles: “Not that I’m happy about this being a secret, but this sneaking off stuff is kinda hot, right?”

And you’re probably gonna need two bottles of wine and a four hour talk with your best friend to dissect what that means, that he’s not happy with this ‘being a secret’, but right now you kinda just want him to keep kissing you, so you decide to ignore what has the potential to be the root of a lot of pain and heartbreak along the line and instead press up on your toes so his lips slide to your shoulder.

“Impatient,” Will mumbles gruffly.

“Don’t like seeing you with other girls,” you admit. The words, although soft, sound loud in the empty alley and you wonder if they’re too much, too soon.

But Will simply breaks away and takes your chin between his fingers, forces them to look at you.

“I know,” he says, as if it means nothing at all. “But I need you to remember that even if I have to spend all night listening to them, I’m only going home with you.”

And you think as long as that is the case you can force yourself to get through this night.

As soon as you’re done with kissing Will.

(Which is not soon at all)

---

No more requests please! These will be tagged ‘blurb’ if you want to blacklist

[twokinkybeans]

Pale Rose - Lion Whisperer AU Chapter 2 [Starker]

Chapter 2: Mister Six AM. Peter groans as he turns around in his bed to slap the alarm. The sun is already shining through the curtains and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Peter cracks his back and sighs, slowly raising his hand again to grab his phone. He unplugs it from the charger and frowns when he sees a wall of notifications. He puts in his code and opens his email first. He gasps when he reads his daily donation update. Their donation goal of 100k dollars was met. And kicked out of the park by another 560k. The number of separate donations has him lose his breath. How did so many people find this fundraiser? Peter opens the next email. YouTube contacted him to… Congratulate him? Peter’s eyes go wide when he sees the number in the email and he immediately switches apps to check his YouTube account. How many subscribers did he have yesterday? Around 700k? 

“Holy shit…” he mumbles. 1.8 million subscribers . Peter jolts to sit upright in his bed, his bare chest uncovered from the thin sheet as he scrolls through the countless new comments he has. He pants, not believing what is happening. He’s pretty sure he can’t even read all of them anymore at this point. On his most recent video, the most liked comment sparks his interest. Who else is here because of Tony Stark?

“Oh, no, he didn’t.” Peter switches apps again and opens his Instagram. He stares at another wall of notifications and opts to just turn them off for people who aren’t mutuals. He’s about to hit the search bar to find Tony Stark’s Instagram in the list of people he follows, but with his notification wall compressed to just mutuals, one shines through.

Tony Stark now follows you. They’re mutuals now. Peter immediately hits his account and stares at the latest post. It’s a candid of Peter with Adi and Nedda. Tony didn’t have a phone with him, though, or a camera. How could he have taken this picture? Peter’s breath is stuck in his throat as he scrolls down to the caption, almost afraid of what he might read. Meet Peter Parker. A bright sun, that rivals the one up in the sky, who also happens to work with cats. Big cats. Wakanda’s Sanctuary, almost 300k square feet of land, is the home of lions and other animals that are native to Africa. There, Peter takes care of the animals that are endangered because of human interference. Animals that can no longer be released into the wild; that were saved from horrible private zoos or who fell victim to poachers. I was blessed with both a terrible sunburn and a generous conversation with Peter, in which he told me about his goals to raise money in order to fight poaching and to raise awareness for climate change. I do encourage all of you to watch at least one of his videos, just to get to know him and his feline friends a little better and to give him that small bit of ad revenue to help him achieve his goals. The world would be a better place if we were all a little bit more like Peter Parker. Peter stares at his screen, his cheeks flushed red at the endless stream of compliments. Peter reads over the last line again and again and again and again. Tony’s post got him this increase in subscribers. Tony’s post got him all of those donations. This was all because of Tony. Peter tears his eyes away from the phone to look at the small card on his bedside table. Matte black. No name. Just a phone number. Tony’s phone number. Maybe doing a collab with the billionaire philanthropist isn’t such a bad idea after all... - Peter assesses himself in the mirror. He’s never been this nervous for a video before. Or, ever at all, really. Tony Stark immediately agreed to being present for the move. Even on the phone, the man had been incredibly charming. Peter ruffles his hair in an attempt to make it look good, while sucking at his teeth. He swears quietly, knowing spending time with the lions will mess his do up again anyways. Peter opts to not think too much about it and covers himself head to toe in sunscreen, as he does every morning. He takes one last glance in the mirror before grabbing his baseball cap and putting on his walking shoes. When Peter opens the front door of his apartment at The Sanctuary he gulps and immediately walks back in to throw the door shut with a loud bang. Tony was already there. Right outside his small, messy room. Peter saw him well enough to have the image of Tony’s outfit stuck in front of his eyes. Camo shorts, brown walking shoes and a green shirt. His brown tinted pilot sunglasses hide his eyes mysteriously and fuck. He looks hot. Peter takes a deep breath in through his nose and closes his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. “Here we go…” he whispers to nobody but himself and when he opens the door again, he yelps, refraining from throwing it shut straight away again. Tony’s right in front of him, hand raised to knock on Peter’s door. The older man cocks his head and smiles. “Morning, Rose,” Tony quips. Peter swallows his breath and chokes when he hears the nickname. “You rushed back in, so I figured I’d come say hi.” “Yeah!” Peter exclaims, laughing sheepishly. “I- eh… I saw you didn’t bring a cap. I was gonna grab you one.” He presses his lips together in a smile. Yes. Good excuse. “A… cap?” “Yeah, a cap.” Peter doesn’t know what to say next and awkwardly stares at Tony’s features. “Should I have brought a cap, then?” Peter jolts when Tony speaks again and he points at his own head. “You get sunburnt at the top of your head quickly out there and I’m guessing you don’t want to put sunscreen on your scalp, so…” Peter swiftly takes off his own hat and pushes it onto Tony’s head. The man is startled by the gesture, but doesn’t protest. Peter stares at the man wide-eyed when he realizes what he just did. “-Ah,” he stutters. “Sorry about that, I should’ve asked, shit-” “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Tony laughs. “I get it, okay? When we first met I was just the random dude you see in the news occasionally and now I completely flipped your life with one post you didn’t want me to make.” Peter stands frozen in place, staring at Tony and pretends that that is exactly the reason why he’s so flustered. “I’m sorry for not asking permission. That’s on me. But- please- don’t feel like you have to do anything for me, okay? You don’t get the title of philanthropist by asking for things in return.” Peter takes a step back and looks at his feet with a frown. Tony clears his throat. “So, what are you gonna use for your head?” Peter looks up so he can stare at Tony again. Tony gestures towards Peter’s hair by nodding. “You just pressed your cap on me. Thank you for letting me borrow it, by the way, but don’t you need the protection as well?” “Right!” Peter exclaims, turning to fall on his knees and crawl under the bed to get a small box. He takes out an old, slightly more worn cap and waves it in front of his own face. “That’ll do.” - “Good morning everybody,” Peter smiles at the GoPro in his hand. “It is currently 7am, we got a busy day ahead of us: we’re going to be switching enclosures for two prides and if that goes smoothly, we’ll hopefully be taking Adi, Nedda and Beru for a walk this afternoon.” Peter looks down at his feet for a second and then back up into the lens with a wide grin. “Now, you must be wondering why I say ‘we’ for the walk, as that’s a thing I do without the volunteers of The Sanctuary, but I actually have a very special guest with me today!” Peter turns around quickly, whipping the camera with him until Tony enters the shot behind him. The man smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “Hello, there.” Peter feels Tony’s hot breath in his neck and has to stay focussed on the camera so as to not to lose his composure. A lot of people are gonna watch this video, simply because Tony Stark is in it, so he has to sell this right. For the lions. At least, that’s what Peter tells himself. “Tony Stark!” “Me!” Tony raises his hands above his head and they both pull a face, resulting in the both of them bursting out with laughter. “So,” Peter says, angling his camera correctly again. “A lot of you peeps have been asking me to make a video from the perspective of someone visiting The Sanctuary as opposed to just me with the GoPro attached to my arm, so I figured I could take this opportunity to see how well you handle a camera, Mr. Stark.” Peter presents the GoPro to Tony who looks at Peter’s fingers for a second. He really doesn’t like to be handed things, but every molecule inside his body is screaming at him to touch the boy, so he does something he rarely allows. With a grin, he takes the camera out of Peter’s hands, lingering a little longer than necessary and turns it until he’s no longer in shot. Instead, Peter’s all the viewer is able to see now. “Hey!” Peter exclaims. “You’re in this vid too!” “Yes, but you are infinitely more interesting to look at.”  Peter scratches the back of his head and looks down, trying to hide his blush behind the worn cap. Tony clears his throat. “You doing your work, kid.” Saved it , Tony hopes. “Don’t think anybody goes to the Sanctuary Channel to watch my face.” “Well-” Peter exclaims, standing upright again with his lips pressed on top of each other. “I was also thinking that this video will be the one most people get introduced to my channel with because- well… You’re in it.” Peter nods, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger. “So, yeah, you can ask me anything that comes to mind. Doesn’t matter if I’ve touched on it before in other vids.” “Well, then, Mr. Parker-” “Peter,” the young man interrupts him. “Feel so old when people call me that.” “Sheesh, kid, you’re what, 22? Just a few days ago you were talking to me about retirement- we’re in the 21st century, people live ‘til 85 at least.” Peter laughs and boy, does Tony love making him laugh. “For the record,” Peter chuckles. “I’m 23. So that’s way older than 22.” Tony snorts. “And my workfield isn’t exactly without danger, Mr. Stark.” “Ha!” Tony exclaims. “Way to make me feel old, kid.” “But-” “If I’m not allowed to call you mister than you’re not calling me that either. Tony, kid. Call me Tony.” Peter hides his face behind his hands. “I’m gonna have to spend a whole day editing this vid, don’t I?” “Probably.” - “Alright!” Peter says excitedly as he hops into the truck. He slowly drives over the Sanctuary grounds.  “Your timing is actually quite ironic, since we’re moving the Avengers today.” “The- oh?” Tony pretends he wasn’t already aware of this. He’s seen the videos of this particular pride. He knows what’s coming. He puts the camera diagonally and Peter chuckles, trying to steer with one hand while flailing slightly with his other to make Tony hold the camera straight again. “A group of four males. Banner, Thor, Rogers and-” Peter cocks one eyebrow with a smirk. “Stark.” “You named a lion after me?” Tony feigns his surprise with a wide smile and Peter scoffs a laugh. “These boys joined The Sanctuary as cubs about four years ago. Were all part of a circus.” Tony snorts and has to stop himself from losing his composure. “That’s not far off from the real thing,” he jokes. Peter presses his lips on top of each other in a grin. “Trust me, Mr- Tony.” Peter gently hits the brake and they slow down. “It’s quite scary.” “Says the kid who works with lions for a living.” “And hyenas,” Peter adds quickly. “And leopards.” “No black panthers?” “That’s the leopards,” Peter chuckles. “Leopards that are melanistic are commonly known as black panthers. But they’re still leopards, really.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly. Tony sniffs once. He’s getting schooled by a boy less than half his age. But he enjoys it. Somehow. Most of the volunteers were already waiting for Peter at the enclosure. There’s a large truck with a cage on top and a lot more commotion than Tony expected. “If you told me there’d be this many people I’d have prepped a speech,” Tony quips. Peter sighs dramatically and gets out of the truck. Tony follows swiftly and stares at how Peter speaks Xhosa with the other volunteers. It looks funny, almost, seeing a white boy speak the language so easily- fluently. After a minute, Tony grows bored, so he turns the camera to face him and pulls a few funny faces at it. When he realizes this video is going to be seen by a lot of people, he brings the GoPro closer to his face and whispers. “That was for your eyes only, Mr. Parker,” he grins.  “Tony?” The older man looks up from the lens when Peter calls out for him and subconsciously, Tony smiles wide at the mention of his name. “You ready for the good part?” Peter shuffles past a few of the volunteers towards the gate and Tony makes his way over to fencing. “Oh, I am very curious, kid.”  It’s not long before Peter’s by himself in the enclosure, the gate closed behind him. He casually strolls around, calling out the names of each pride member. Tony can’t help himself and inches closer to the fence.  “So, these lions are four years old?” “Nearing five, yeah. They were only a couple months old when we found them. Sure made a wreck of my house when I raised them,” Peter laughs. “Pro-tip-” He raises one hand and only now Tony notices Peter’s holding a small chunk of meat in it. “-if you ever raise lion cubs; two at the same time tops. Not three. Never four. Four will make you so sleep deprived you think you have five cubs on your bed.” The boy chuckles at his own comment. “That was an interesting night…” Tony shakes his head with a wide grin. “I can imagine.” Peter suddenly cocks his head- listening. He turns and spots the first lion slowly making his way towards him. “M- Tony,” Peter says, looking back at the billionaire for a second. “Meet Rogers.” “Already have,” Tony groans, which makes Peter laugh. His focus immediately shifts to the lion and he squats, preparing himself for the imminent cuddles. He tosses the meat from his hand directly into the lion’s mouth. “Rogers is the most fragile of the pride. He was severely malnourished when he came here and though he bounced back, the joints in his back legs are not great. M’gonna have to help him get into the truck.” Tony listens carefully. Peter’s voice is sweet and soft. The white lion huffs friendly and presses himself against Peter, who pushes back against him with his head. When Peter opens his eyes, he nods at another lion approaching in the distance. “That’s Banner. He’s curious, but incredibly shy. Also the smallest of this pride. If none of you were here he’d come say hi, but the volunteers make him nervous, so he’ll probably keep an eye on us from over there.” Peter nods in the general direction of where the lion is and Tony turns the camera to get a shot of Banner. Not much later, a gigantic white lion approaches. He holds his head high and has a big mane. When he gets closer, Rogers immediately pulls back and lays down next to Peter. The big white lion claims Peter’s space and attention and the boy laughs as he pets him. “Thor’s the biggest- OOF!” The lion drops his weight on top of Peter, whose smile doesn’t falter. “Also the heaviest,” he adds. The lion huffs once, almost as if he’s protesting against Peter’s comments. “And the loudest.” Peter scratches Thor under his chin and the lion automatically opens his mouth right next to Peter’s face. His head could fit in there twice. At least. And the teeth are absolutely gigantic. The sight has shivers run down Tony’s spine. This is normal . This is Peter’s life. He knows what he’s doing, the boy does this every day. Tony bites the inside of his cheek. Lions. These animals are lions . Yet they act like house cats around him. Thor gets up again and without any incentive, he jumps into the truck. “He knows what’s up,” Tony laughs as he turns to the truck to take a shot of Thor from close by. He’s startled by a low rumble coming from Thor’s throat. “Is that purring?” he asks nervously. Peter stands up again, patting some dirt from the back of his shorts. “Lions don’t purr, that’s a growl. You better take a step back Mr- Tony.” Tony would make an offhand comment on how even though Peter corrects himself, he still ends up calling him mister, if not for the lion’s growls increasing in volume. He takes a hasty step back and Peter tosses another chunk of meat into the truck for Thor to eat. “The only big cats that purr are cheetahs and cougars.” “Now, that’s a fun fact. Good to know,” Tony says sheepishly, trying to hide his nerves.  Tony frowns when Peter gets onto his knees in front of the truck.  “What are you doing?” “Helping Rogers.” “You’re gonna let that gigantic beast step on you?” “Better than lifting him,” Peter quips back. He turns his head and whistles. “Rogie- Rogie, boy, come on!” Peter’s voice is high as he coos at the lion. Tony presses his lips on top of each other to stifle a laugh. Rogie, boy. He should remember that one for the real Steve. Rogers responds like a trained dog, but skips Peter completely by putting his front legs against the truck. He hops, but can’t actually get in. “Buddy, your balls are in my face, could you please get up?” Peter pats Rogers’ thigh before quickly placing his hand down again to brace himself. With great difficulty, the lion places one foot on Peter’s shoulder, not pressing his full weight down on the boy. It was enough of a step to help him get in, though. Peter stands up straight again with a triumphant look on his face. He tosses another chunk of meat into the truck and Steve takes it gladly. Thor had already laid down again, not too bothered anymore. Peter cocks his head at Banner, who’s still a bit away, but has decided to come a little closer when he noticed Thor and Steve entering the truck. Peter smiles kindly and squats, presenting a chunk of meat to the shy lion. Tony is absolutely enthralled by Peter’s control. The boy seems relaxed but if you look closely you can see how in tune he is with everything. How he keeps an eye on his surroundings. Banner creeps closer and when he’s next to Peter, it’s obvious how small he actually is. His mane is also way shorter than that of the other two. Tony stares wide-eyed at how Peter handfeeds Bruce the piece of meat. Handfeeds . “Not scared you’re gonna lose a hand?” “Nah,” Peter replies quietly. “Occupational hazard. And I trust my lions more than I trust humans, to be fair.” “Ouch,” Tony says to make light of the situation, trying to hide how that comment actually kind of stung. Peter chuckles, combing Banner’s short mane with his fingers. “We met three days ago, m- Tony.” “Does it really take you that much effort not to call me mister?” Tony laughs, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. “I was raised with manners.” He grins at Tony and tosses the next piece of meat into the truck. Banner doesn’t hesitate anymore and jumps into the truck as well. “It physically hurts me not to call you mister.” “Sure, kid.” Tony zooms in on Peter’s face. “Well then, if I get to call you Parker you have permission to call me Mr. Stark.” “Deal!” Peter exclaims immediately. The boy’s smile is so bright Tony is pretty sure he’d be blinded by it if he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. After another minute, the lions in the truck are getting a little restless. Peter sighs audibly and turns to face the enclosure. “You can guess who’s fashionably late.” Peter glances at Tony behind him. “As per usual.” “Time management is not my strong suit! And I was early this morning,” Tony laughs. Peter places his hands on his hips, guiding Tony’s eyes to look at the boy’s pert butt. He quickly looks back up at the back of Peter’s head. Now’s not the time for filthy thoughts… Maybe later. “Staaark!” Peter belts. “Here, boy!” Peter makes a couple of those funny noises he made when Tony first met him. “Why do you do all that? Those… Uwus?” “Wha- the noises?” Peter snorts. “Can’t believe Tony Stark just said uwu.” “Hey-” the older man protests. “You said it first! And I am hip with the youngsters.” “You know what? I suddenly don’t feel so old anymore,” Peter says with a grin.  “You, Parker, are a meanie.” Tony points accusingly and Peter laughs. “Ouchies, that huwt my feewings.”  “Just explain the noise, please-” Tony lets out an overdramatic exasperated sigh, indicating to Peter that he’s not actually annoyed. Entertained, would be the right word. Peter nods with a smile and turns back to face the enclosure so he can make the sound once more. “The huffing is actually me mimicking the sound of a mama-lion,” Peter laughs. “It’s comforting to them.” “See, you could’ve just said that straight away.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, but before he can reply with another quick-witted comment, they all spot the dark mane emerging from the bushes. Stark really does take his time, slowly placing each paw in front of the other, as if he’s on a catwalk. Tony chuckles at his own thought. Catwalk . Stark stares at Peter as he crosses the distance between them and Peter preps himself by sitting down already. “Stark’s the most affectionate of the four,” Peter says as the lion presses into him. The force with which Stark rubs his face against Peter’s has the boy laugh and push back. “Next to Adi and Nedda, he probably likes me the most out of all the lions here.” He pats Stark’s back. “He’s also the most handsome of all the male lions in The Sanctuary. Hands down.” “Isn’t that subjective?” Tony asks quickly, pretending the indirect praise isn’t making him tingle. Peter shrugs before he buries his face in the dark mane for a second. “For lion standards, this is a pretty boy. Stark’s also the most sexually engaged.” Tony freezes up at how casually Peter talks about this. He wonders if Peter is actually indirectly talking about him. Not about the lion he’s petting. “That is, if we would breed here.” “You don’t?” “I don’t breed captive lions. The ones that we have in The Sanctuary are saved from situations that make them unable to be released back into the wild again. We spay every female to prevent them from reproducing.” “Why not the males?” “Spaying both is a lot of hassle for something that’s not necessary. If we were to neuter the males they would still be affected by the females’ cycles. That’s why we spay the females, who are unaffected by the males." “Ah, that makes sense.” Peter studies the near-black mane on Stark. “Should probably take these boys out for a walk tomorrow. Lower their testosterone a bit.” Peter looks up at Tony and gestures at Stark’s head of hair. “There were a couple of wild lionesses right outside The Sanctuary about a week ago. Stark must’ve picked up on them and their cycle ‘cause he’s a little sexually frustrated right now. As is evident by the dark colour of his mane.” Tony licks his lips. This isn’t happening. This isn’t actually happening. He shifts where he stands, hoping his shorts hide his own growing sexual frustration. Peter smiles wide and gets Stark’s attention by presenting a chunk of meat in front of the lion’s face. He tosses it into the truck and before the others in there can get to it, Stark has jumped in. Peter carefully closes the cage on top of the truck and nods at Tony, who still hasn’t said anything in an attempt to hide how flustered he is right now. “Let’s go!”

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More: Next Chapter (yet to be posted) Masterpost (yet to be made)

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Taglist: @professional-benaddict​ @tonystarkweneedyou​

[turnupbrock]

Was I not good enough?//Colby Brock x Reader

 I was in the kitchen waiting for Colby to get out of the shower. I was sitting on the counter, scrolling through my social media pages when Colby's phone that was on the charger next to me, vibrated. Colby and I have been dating for 2 years and we never had an issue with secrecy towards each other. We always told each other everything. Whether it would have been late nights out on the balcony, or deep talks while cuddling, we knew everything about one another. Not a stone left un-turned or page not read. So when I saw the name 'Emily'  text him, it took me by surprise. My curiosity got the best of me and I opened his phone. Seeing the most recent text read 'Hey babe, I miss you! can't wait to see you tomorrow!💕' My brow furrowed in confusion as I read the text. I continued to scroll through their conversation to subside my growing suspicion, as I continued to read my heart broke. I never in a million years thought that we would have these problem, never would I thought that he would cheat on me.

I made my way to the couch, still holding Colby's phone in my hand. I sat down releasing a breath, and felt warm tears  run down my cheeks. It wasn't long before Colby walked out of his room wearing a pair of gray joggers, hanging low on his hips, shirtless, and his curly damp hair swaying when he walked towards me. Seeing me sitting on the couch with tears running down my face, he immediately rushed over to my side.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he cooed as his arm came around my shoulders, pulling me to his bare chest. "How long Colby?" I asked trying to keep my voice steady but it cracked on the last word. "Huh?" he asked confusion laced in his voice. I scooted away from him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes when I moved. I tossed his phone on the couch in between the both of us. Colby looked down at his phone, his eyes widened and his gaze snapped back up to meet mine. Guilt and fear written across his face as he looked at me. "How long, Colby?" I asked again. "Y/n, I can ex-" I cut him off. "Answer the fucking question Colby" I spit out to him. He dropped his head and looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers. "Two months" he quietly said, my eyes widened "t-two mon- wow. Two months?!" I slightly raised my voice, my anger getting the best of me now. I was angry now, and that anger was taking over the pain that was in my chest, making it hard for me to breath. He nodded his head still not looking at me. "Look at me Colby," my voice cracked as I talked to him. After a minute he finally looked up at me, the guilt still in his eyes. "Why?" I croaked out. "I don't know, Y/n" he replied looking into my eyes. I laughed lightly although nothing about this was funny. "What a bullshit excuse," I laughed out. I didn't care to wipe away the tears leaking from my eyes. "was I not enough for you, Colby?" my voice was shaky, filled with so much emotion as I spoke to the boy that I thought would be my forever. When those words lefts my mouth, his head shot up to mine. He shook is head hard, "Of course you were enough y/n," he said as his own tears spilled over his cheeks. I shook my head back at him, "if I was, you wouldn't have ch- stepped out on me.." I choked out. I could get the word 'cheat' out of my mouth. But that is what happened he cheated on me and then lied about it. I should have noticed the way his phone was always on silent, or that he never left it out anymore, or that he was "filming late with the guys". All these signs that I chose to ignore because he had his way with words. I just stared at him for a moment watching the tears falling from his guilt and regret filled eyes. I closed my eyes against the tsunami of tears that we bound to fall at any moment. I lifted myself off of the couch and looked down at the only person that knew me better than anyone. The person that I trusted with my heart, only for him to break it and leave it in a pile of jagged pieces. Left it for me to pick up and try to put back to together. "Do you love her Colby?" I asked, dreading the answer that I already knew but I had to hear it. He broke our eye contact and looked down at his couch. Slowly, he nodded his head. I felt the pain in my chest increase to the point that I thought I would pass out from how heavy it felt. The tears just kept spilling, and I did absolutely nothing to stop them.

"Okay, um, I gotta go.." I trailed off walking back over to the counter where my phone, wallet, and keys were. Colby stood up off of the couch. "Can't you stay? So we can talk about this, please?" he asked wiping the tears off of his face just for them to replaced by fresh ones. "No, Colby because if I stay I'm going to end up forgiving you or slapping the shit out of you." I said making my way over to the door. I turned around just as I was about to open the door, to see the man that I fell in love two years ago. He wasn't the same Colby that I used to see. "I hope she was worth it Colby. I hope that when she is laying in bed with you, that you're happy. I hope that when she is wearing you shirt while cooking you something, that you're happy. I hope that when she looks at you with so much love and affection, that you're happy. I really do hope you're happy. I hope that she can give you everything that I couldn't." I said before walking out of the apartment that was my safe place to be when I didn't want to be alone. Leaving not only the  good and bad memories there, but also leaving the man that I thought I was going to marry, have kids with, grow old with. I think that hurt the most, he always promised that we were forever but I guess I couldn't full fill that for him anymore.

Two days later I was sitting on my couch watching some show on Hulu, while eating ice cream. Trying to get my mind off of the hurt and heartbreak that I knew wasn't going away for a long time. Yesterday I made the discussion to take a break off of social media for my mental heath, tweeting out a simple 'Taking a break from all socials for a while..' I jumped when my phone dinged, bringing me out of my head. I looked to see that Colby had tweeted out a video, again the curiosity got the best of me and I opened it..

*In Video* Colby's eyes were red and puffy from crying and the tear stains on his cheeks were very prominent. He sat on a chair, his camera showing the kitchen in the background. "Hey, guys it's Colby and I just wanted to come on here and say that I'm going to take a break from social media for a little while. I'm not going to get into the reasons why I'm taking a break. I just wanted to let all of you know. I don't know when I'm going to be back, and this isn't a planned break so whenever I think that I am ready to come back on is when I'm going to." He sniffled a little bit and wiped away a few tears that had leaked from his red shot eyes. It broke my heart seeing him like this but I knew that I looked the same way. "So, I'll see you guys when I come to but I love you guys so so much, Peace." He covered the lens with his palm and the video ended leaving fans confused but it was better for his mental health and just social media in general is not the best thing to be on when you're in a bad state. I looked at my last tweets and there were only three, that left fans worried but I had to get it off of my chest. I looked at the tweet on my profile that I had sent out before I announced that I was taking a break, and that tweet said 'Love, what a powerful yet heartbreaking word.' How true that statement was to me.

A month later and a half later and I'm still working on me. It hurts to wake up and realize that I'm alone, it is one of the hardest things to do because for the past two years, I had someone to wake up to, and now I don't have anyone. I was looking through my old pictures seeing that so many involved Colby, it broke me and I started to sob again. The pain, betrayal, and heartbreak taking over me for a little until my phone rang. The contact showing Sam, he has been there with me during this breakup, helped me realize that it has to be bad before it gets better. I answered still sniffling, "Hey Sam, what's up" I didn't notice that my voiced was laced with my sadness. "Hey, you doing okay?" he asked worry in his voice. "y-yeah just you know, just perfect," I stuttered out. I heard his sigh on the other end but I chose to ignore it, "so, what's up?" I asked him, "Um, so Colby wants to post a video telling the fans what happened.." he hesitated before continuing, "he said that he just wants to clear the air with the fans, but he said he will only do it, if it's okay with you. He'll send me the video to send to you, so you can watch it before he posts it and so you can let him know if it's okay to be posted." I stayed silent for a second, thinking of everything that could come from that. I know that he will get hate from the fans when he tells them that he cheated but, he is right. The fans have the right to know since they are such a big part of our lives. I released a breath, "yeah, he can film, telling the fans the truth." I replied my voice still shaky from the crying session that was just interrupted. I heard a faint sniffle from the other end and I knew that it was Colby's. "Yeah, okay. Um, come over please. Come talk to me and we can post mates and chill for a while?" he asked nervously. I laughed lightly, "yes, Sam, I would love to come over and have you deal with my emotional, broken, and hurting self. While drowning my sorrows in Chipotle." I said to him, hearing his laugh through the phone put a genuine smile on my face. "Okay, but get here quick," he said sternly.

Colby's Pov-    "yes sir." I heard y/n voice through the small speaker on Sam's phone. He finished the conversation with her, then turned to me. "You probably shouldn't be here when she gets here.." he trailed off awkwardly. I nodded and stood up, "thanks man for calling her, I just don't think that I could have done it." I said feeling tears line my eyes again. Sam pulled me into a tight bro hug for a second before letting go, "Anytime brother." I smiled weakly and made my way to my apartment. Without y/n here, it just felt so empty and quiet. I did what I've been doing everyday for the past month and a half, I sat on my couch, head in my hands, reliving everything that had happened while crying my eyes out. After a while I decided to take a walk around the apartment building to clear my head. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my phone before walking out of my door. When I passed Sam's door I heard a familiar voice, the voice of the women that I love. "Sam, it hurts, it hurts so bad." she cried out, hearing her so sad and broke made me cry as well. " why? why wasn't I enough f-for him?" her cries got louder as Sam tried calming her down. I continued down the hall with tears of my own falling freely down my face as I looked down at the carpeted floor. Why? Why did I have to go and fuck something that was so perfect up? After a long wonder around the building, I made it back to my house where I set up the camera and started to film.

*In Video* Colby sighed and looked down at the rings that adorned his fingers. "This is going to be the hardest video I have ever had to film" he said. Colby looked back up to the lens with his heartbroken, glassy, red eyes. "I fucked up bad. I'm going to address some rumors and clear the air with you guys. Yes, Y/n and I broke up. We are no longer together. Now before you go start hating on her, listen to the full thing because all of this, is 100% my fault. I am the reason we are no longer together. ME not her." he emphasized that point to the viewers. "As you know Y/n and I were together for two years. Those two years were the best of my life. But a month and a half ago, we broke up. This was because.." he stopped and inhaled, preparing himself to tell the world that he had stepped out on his girlfriend. As a few tears slipped from his eyes he continued, "I cheated on y/n. I cheated on her for two months before she found out. It was with a girl that doesn't have any social media, so please don't go assuming that it was this person or that person, because it wasn't." he made sure to point that out before things go ugly with drama and lies. "People, my friends, and even my family keep asking me, 'Why?' 'Why would you go and ruin something so perfect?' And that answer is simply, I don't know. I'm being honest when I say that because truly, deep down, I have absolutely no fucking idea why I did what I did." Colby took a deep breath to try and control the tears that were overflowing from his eyes, but it was no use for they kept falling. "I don't want any pity, or people saying that they feel bad for me because I'm crying or because we're no longer dating. No, I don't want it, I don't deserve it. I just want to clear the air and continue on my break from social media. Um, yeah so that's why we are no longer together. And that is why I'm taking a break from this. I need time to focus on me and my state of mind. I need to stable those things before I can come on here. Peace." With that the video ended.

I sent the video, no editing to Sam so he could show it to Y/n. While I waited, I cleaned up my living room, seeing how much of a mess it was. But before I could completely finish, my phone buzzed with a text from Sam, 'She said that it's fine and that you can go ahead and post it, but she is also making a video to add on something. She said that it'll be sent to you as well so you can say if you don't approve.' I read it and sighed. 'Thanks man. Just send me her video and I'll watch it.' I opened the twitter app and a sent out a tweet saying 'I miss waking up to you dancing around the kitchen in my t-shirt while cooking..' directly after that tweet, I put up the video. I also put it on my Instagram. For the next hour or so I sat on my balcony, listening to music and thinking over how the past few months of my life played out. I didn't care to stop the tear drops that would trail down my cheeks. I was surprised to see a name pop up on my screen. A name I thought would never text me again, Y/n. She texted me her video and I automatically paused the music to watch it.

*In Her Video* Y/n sat there on the edge of her bed, a bed that Colby used to sleep in. The bed that you guys used to cuddle in or have amazing nights in. Colby couldn't help but to let out a couple of sobs thinking about how you guys would never share the same bed or nights again. You sat there, red puffy, bloodshot, glassy eyes peering into the lens of your camera. "Um, as many of you know know now, Colby and I are no longer together, yes that means that we broke up" you choke out as a couple stray tears fell out of your eyes. "Yes, he did cheat on me. No, I'm not going to go into it because it still hurts so so much. If you want to know then go check out the video that Colby posted first. He explained things that I won't go into." Y/n looked away from the camera to bite back the sobs that were fighting their way from her throat. A couple did get hiccuped out. "My friends and family keep telling me that the hardest thing to regain is going to be my trust. But I think that they are wrong. I think that the hardest thing to regain, the thing that is going to take the longest to get back is without a doubt my self love. I used to love myself and think of myself as good enough for anyone in my life but ever since this whole thing happened," she paused for a minute to wipe away her tears. "since this whole ordeal happened, I don't have much self love so that to me is going to be the hardest thing to get back. And that to me is going to take the longest. Yeah, rebuilding my trust is going to be a bitch too. This is why I am going to continue my break for as long as I feel that I need it and I hope you guys understand. I love guys so much. Colby, I miss you, I'm probably always going to miss you. Maybe one day in the future we can talk about being friends but for right now the best thing for both of us is a clean break. For our own mental health and so we can work on ourselves. I love you. So much." Y/n ended her video and the screen went black.

I took a deep breath a wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my sweater, before replying to her text. 'Yeah, go ahead and post it' I sent to her. Not long after I got her reply, 'Thank you' I took my chance, 'I miss you too', I was scared of the reply that I might get but she only replied with a simple,

'Always'

[ducktracy]

158. porky’s romance (1937)

release date: april 3rd, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: joe dougherty (porky), berneice hansell (petunia, babies), mel blanc (excited petunia), billy bletcher (time munches on narrator)

i’ve been looking forward to reviewing this since the day i first typed my review for bosko, the talk-ink kid. so you’ll have to excuse me for rambling on more than normal, i’m really passionate about this cartoon. there’s so much to say!

first off, this cartoon means a lot to me. it’s the first one i checked out on my own accord. i caught wind of who carl stalling was and wanted to listen to a piece of his music to familiarize myself. i saw his depression era compilation of music, and included was the opening number for this cartoon, which absolutely blew me away. i looked up the cartoon and watched it and instantly fell in love. porky was fat! porky has a different voice actor! porky was INTERESTING! porky was killing himself! i had never seen anything like it, so it holds a special place in my heart. i had a vague idea of some directors, like bob clampett and chuck jones, but had no idea who the hell this “frank tash” guy was. but after watching it, i knew i’d love him. and i do!

secondly, this is joe dougherty’s final appearance. while mel is undoubtedly the better porky, i’ve really come to appreciate joe. he gets a hard time because he had a real stutter, and one of the repeated criticisms i see is that it sounds too overdone. true as that may be, he couldn’t help it, and i applaud him for working as long as he did. i mean, a little over 2 years, that’s a decent amount of time! and he does have talent. we’ve seen and heard much worse. so i’m a little sad to see him go, but excited at the same time knowing wonderful things are ahead. i love this particular era in looney tunes history, the porky’s romance to, say, porky’s badtime story era. there’s this sense of newness and freshness—new voices, new characters, new directors. you feel the change happening before your very eyes. it’s all so exciting!

i’ve rambled enough, and i’m certainly going to ramble much more, so buckle up! after petunia pig rejects porky’s marriage proposal, porky seeks a noose for comfort. when the suicide attempt goes wrong, he’s then launched into a dream sequence about their potential marriage life... and realizes marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

this cartoon has a unique opening to it. before the title card itself, we are presented with “leon schlesinger’s new looney tunes star: petunia pig!” curtains draw to reveal petunia positioned in front of a microphone. yes, this is petunia’s first appearance! she has quite an interesting history. she appears only in 3 frank tashlin cartoons, where she was depicted as a sultry, sexy foil for the bumbling, not very sexy porky. bob clampett would adopt her in 1939 and make her to be much cuter, giving her hair and a much more naïve demeanor. she hardly has any cartoons at all, yet somehow managed to live on through the dell looney tunes comics and in future looney iterations.

petunia greets her audience warmly, opening with “my public! i hope you pictured my liking--i mean, i hope you lictured my picking... i mean... i--” overcome by nerves, petunia struggles to read the script in front of her and greet the audience. this little bit was inspired by the short lived 1936-1937 radio program community sings. the offscreen announcer attempts to calm her down. “shhh, petunia. don’t get excited, don’t get excited...” petunia’s furious outburst (vocals by mel blanc, of course) of “EXCITED!? WHO’S EXCITED?? I’M NOT EXCITED!!!” comes from comedian professor tommy mack, who would do the same slow routine and then the explosion with the “WHO’S EXCITED?” line. tashlin’s the woods are full of cuckoos is an entire tribute to community sing.

the curtains close on petunia, and then we’re actually greeted with the title card. an absolutely stellar rendition of “i wanna woo” underscores the title and the opening scene. a happy porky whistles along to the music as we have a montage of him buying necessities for petunia. a diamond ring, some roses, some chocolates. what a good guy! i love the visuals in this cartoon. everything is so sleek and modern--it’s evident tashlin was enamored with the art deco style. and that song again is just beautiful--it’s why i investigated this cartoon in the first place!

porky finishes his routine as he approaches petunia’s house, dancing up and down the stairs before ringing the doorbell. i love that face of his as he poses by the doorbell, throwing his bouquet in the air and catching them in his hand. he’s awfully full of himself.

inside, petunia approaches the door, her brat of a dog fluffnums by her side. for some reason, fluffnums was attempted to be pushed as a reoccurring character, with model sheets and drawings of him surfacing around the studio, i guess for publicity, but he only appeared in this cartoon. same goes for the iceman in i only have eyes for you (his name is sammy sparrow?) and the parrot in i wanna be a sailor. petunia opens the top portion of her door to see her visitor, and we see cocky old porky posing with his hat hilariously tipped on his face. petunia, for whatever, isn’t very pleased, turning her nose and marching away, stomping her foot. “porky pig! pooh-pooh!” in the same rhythm, the dog barks the same amount of syllables, stomping its little paw. warm welcome.

a lovely, downtrodden chorus scores porky as he trudges away tearfully, wilting, pausing only to kiss petunia’s nameplate on her house. suddenly, fluffnums looks out the window and barks for petunia. “what is it, fluffnums?” then, petunia spots the box of chocolates porky carries along behind his back. we then get this BEHEMOTH of a scene that displays how tasteful of a director frank tashlin is: 6.5 seconds, 157 frames, 10 cuts. petunia rushes out of her house at the speed of light and urges porky back inside her home. the scene has CLARITY--you can understand what’s happening, unlike the rapid cutting in porky in the north woods. this scene is genius. petunia throws a dazed porky on her couch while she gorges herself on the chocolates, cooing about how glad she is to see him.

mark kausler identifies the animator as volney white (though the thick eyebrows make me think of bob bentley. mark’s a wonderful source of information i gladly accept everything he says, because he’s right 99.9% of the time) for the scene where porky tries to reach for a chocolate himself. fluffnums, ever the threatening guard dog, growls. we have a great back and forth scene as porky sheepishly pets the dog on the head, reaching for a chocolate and still getting growled at. the charade continues until porky finally snatches one, sticking his tongue out in childish defiance at the dog. as porky lifts up his trophy, winking towards the audience at his act of outsmarting, the dog jumps up and eats the chocolate himself, breaking a hole in porky’s boater hat in the process. (no dogs were harmed in the making of this cartoon!)

seeing as this is joe dougherty’s last cartoon, he doesn’t speak very much at all. in this scene, the animators had porky facing AWAY from the audience so they wouldn’t have to animate his lip movements. it was pretty clear that everyone was tired of working for dougherty. instead, porky’s body jitters as he speaks. they used a technique called staggered exposure, which was mixing up a sequence of drawings to get that jittery effect (so instead of going in a sequence of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and so forth, it would be more like 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and so on.) “why petunia, i want you... you.. you to.. be in love.. that is.. um.. will you.. uh... er, uh.. may i.. that is... won’t you... will you... aw, shucks. will you marry me?”

just as porky finally manages to spit out his confession, disaster strikes. petunia’s bastard of a dog pulls the carpet out from under porky, sending him flipping and falling in the air. because of this, petunia ridicules and laughs at him. porky is now absolutely devastated, leaving petunia’s house for good. i love the detail of his ears and bow tie wilting. carl stalling’s music is on point in this cartoon: an underscore of “the little things you used to do” backs up the scene here. that song was sung at the end of the coo-coo nut grove, where the entire nightclub was flooded in tears.

the next scene is strikingly somber and surprised me greatly the first time i watched it. we iris in on porky writing a suicide note, a noose tied around his neck, tied to a tree branch. the note simply reads “dear petunia, i love you. goodbye forever -- porky” the camera panning out is a little janky and rough, but i digress. porky wipes away his tears, pulling a photo of petunia from his pocket and giving it a kiss. with that, porky jumps.

because of his weight, the suicide attempt fails as the tree branch breaks, porky toppling to the ground and hitting his head. thus launches a dream sequence as his surroundings spin around (by unscrewing the lens of the camera, screwing it (counter)clockwise in front of the aperture), melting away to the exterior of a church. wedding bells chime victoriously. inside, petunia and porky give their vows. porky struggles, stuttering “i d-d-d.... i-d..d-” the officiator whistles (a dougherty era running gag), and porky spits out his final “do.”

more volney white animation as the lovebirds exit the church, waving to the crowd that surrounds them. and, of course, fluffnums is there too, begrudgingly carrying petunia’s veil in its mouth. we cut to porky and petunia happily riding in their car, a victorious JUST MARRIED banner waving in the wind, with shoes attached to strings on the bumper marching along in time to “in my merry oldsmobile”. porky’s license plate reads BOOB -- a good indicator of how frank tashlin felt about porky.

a lovely overhead layout of the honeymoon hotel porky and petunia stay at (with, of course, an underscore of “honeymoon hotel”, which was also the title of a 1934 earl duvall merrie melody). the elevator rises to the top floor in syncopation with the music. a nice silhouette shot of porky and petunia, and rather suggestive at that. they kiss, and the last we see before a fade out is porky turning off the light in the apartment.

billy bletcher voices the narrator as a triumphant fanfare blares. “TIME... MUNCHES ON!” rather disconcerting eating noises, and then we open to a very rotund petunia and fluffnums gorging themselves on chocolate. not the most flattering depiction of a woman, but the ironic “laughing” of the clarinets and horns playing “oh, you beautiful doll!” is a wonderful touch. i love when the scores themselves serve as jokes. 

pan across the apartment, the score melting into another rendition of “i wanna woo” as we see poor porky hard at work. i adore the layout of this entire scene. porky busies himself with all the odd jobs petunia has (presumably) thrown onto him, washing the clothes, ironing a dress, cooking the food, washing the dishes. he unsuccessfully attempts to balance the chaos, trying not to kill himself in the process. pay attention to how the furniture is arranged. the stove, the sink, even the ironing board, they’re all slightly diagonal and at an angle. practical? absolutely not, no one has their furniture arranged like that, just jutting out. but in animation terms, it’s more than practical. it’s so that you can see the details clearly, so that you can see every little thing happening. the clarity of the scene would be muddied if the furniture was arranged the way it should be--you may miss details like the pan burning on the stove or the looming pile of dishes. this is some super smart staging, and the architecture is just beautiful within itself. porky struggles to keep up with the demands, but fails, burning food, clothes, etc. you’ll notice that when he fails to balance a pile of dishes, the china crashing into him as he flops down on the floor, whatever he’s cooking in the pot boils over as well. everything just explodes at once. 

meet porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, and so on. all of the babies start screaming at the noise (bob bentley animation), and petunia puts in her two cents by yelling “porky pig! shut those kids up!” porky rocks one of the cradles back and forth, reassuring her “i’m doing the best i can, petunia dear.” petunia marches forth, wielding a rolling pin as she retorts “don’t dear me, you WORM!” with that, she beats porky relentlessly over the head with the rolling pin, all of the kids shouting “GIVE IT TO HIM, MAMA! GIVE IT TO HIM!” which is another radio show catchphrase of some sort.

finally, we’re met with reality. porky sits in a daze on the ground, petunia stroking his cheek with fluffnums at porky’s other side. petunia puts on her best sympathy act, cooing “oh porky, i’m so so-ree! you’re my honey man. i’ll marry you, darling, honey bunny boo...” while petunia showers porky in all sorts of pet names, he looks up at his suicide note, remembering his dream where petunia was an abusive slob. they had trouble with the camera movements again--when they came out of the dissolve, the camera was in the wrong position slightly, creating a double image.

this is one of my favorite endings to any looney tunes short. a terrified porky jumps up at zips away into the horizon (with that great electric guitar zoom/twang sound effect i love so much), petunia shrugging and fluffnums making a ! mark appear over his head. suddenly, porky retreats, snagging his chocolates from petunia and running for the hills. a beat... and he returns once more, only to give fluffnums a well deserved swift kick in the ass. the music score in this scene is just lovely, nice and jazzy. the timing is succinct, and i love the guitar zoom sound effect. iris out.

as you can see, i love this short, a lot. while i love the blow out, i think this is my first true favorite that we’ve seen so far. it’s so dark, and i don’t even like dark stuff! it just feels so different. carl stalling is in tip top shape with his music scores. every single piece is lovely, especially that beginning. the animation is fun, the expressions are great. i wish i could articulate my thoughts better, because i really just love this cartoon a lot. i’m super happy it was one of the first i had seen, because i probably wouldn’t be typing these reviews had i not. frank tashlin’s cinematography is STRONG in this one. the camera cuts, the angles... this is a beautiful cartoon, inside and out. i feel bad that it’s joe dougherty’s last appearance, but understand at the same time. great things are ahead, revolutionary things! i’ve warmed up to joe quite a lot. i’ve found nothing in terms of what he did after his tenure as porky--wikipedia (not reliable, i know) states that he attended medical school before becoming a voice actor, so good on him! anyway, i absolutely love this cartoon and have seen it multiple, multiple, multiple, MULTIPLE times. it’s strikingly different in tone than what we’ve seen and what we WILL be seeing. it’s not just your everyday frank tashlin porky cartoon. this one stands out, and i implore you to watch it.

link!

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

To Keep You Safe

Title: I can see you in your eyes, you’re ready to break. Don’t look away

Chapter: 13/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn’t have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: E 

Notes: Friendly reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed during revisions! Story begins after Keep Reading due to possible triggers.

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings: blood, violence, torture, death, brief suicidal thoughts, language

~~~

A pattern was established after a few more sleeps–I lost the will to count after the fifth time I’d managed to get any amount of sleep without getting knocked out or passing out. What did it matter if I knew how much time had gone by, anyway? I woke up in my room to the soundtrack of my former friends’ betrayal chanting in my ears with a glass of water and what I assumed was some sort of protein bar waiting for me. I downed both ravenously as I waited in the darkness, my ravaged back pressed lightly against the cold wall. When I wasn’t taken elsewhere to video viewings where I got to watch the horrific past deeds of the Avengers, or to another test of my abilities, or to get ‘electroshock therapy’, I sat on the cold hard floor of my cell and felt around mentally, testing out my new heightened abilities.

I counted the number of guns in the hallway by identifying the metal in them. I was aware of the old copper pipes that ran through the walls around me. Down the hallway and through an iron door laid in wait the machine that they strapped over my head every day. This hall had exactly seventeen other cells with iron doors. And I knew, deep down inside and without a doubt, that if I focused and twisted my hand just so I could warp my door enough to escape. But there wasn’t anywhere to escape to, so it was pointless to try and risk getting caught. I didn’t need Brawny’s boot in my ribs again. Four times was plenty.

If there was a plus side to this, it was that my eyes were opened to the misdeeds of people I had once looked up to and even loved. My old family, the Avengers, had only been using me. They wanted me for their own goal of making the world to their liking. They wanted me to help them wreak havoc on innocent people so that they could rule as they saw fit. It was all an act. Pretend to act for the greater good, for the betterment of mankind, and leave so much destruction in their wake. Nobody to hold them accountable. Nobody to tell them whether or not they were actually even helping. They wanted to control me, too, and I had been naive enough to fall for it. Add on not allowing me to fully realize the true potential for my powers and holding me back, and they clearly weren’t looking out for my best interests. They pretended to care for me and protect me while they kept me on the sidelines. I deserved more.

In the darkness, without any light or sound besides the neverending mantra, my mind compensated for the lack of stimuli with vivid hallucinations. Men dressed in black shooting at me. My so-called friends and team members arguing in the corner. But sometimes, when it felt like being both particularly cruel and unbelievably kind, it was Loki.

He knelt next to me, looking at me with such rage and concern battling on his fair features that I had never seen. Even my imagination wouldn’t allow me to see him as I wanted: content and happy. It had to add his pained face to the weight that had settled over my heart. Sometimes he tried to talk to me, but I just tuned that out as I had the soundtrack of my former allies betrayal. I didn’t need to add his beautiful voice to the grief weighing me down. Forgetting it was the best chance I had at happiness. Remembering him hurt too much and this life I was forced into didn’t allow a break for heartache.

~~~

“We have intel that your Avengers are still coming for you, Ms. Thompson. We thought we would make another video reminding them of why that’s foolish. Thank you so much for helping us with this little project.”

I was forced into the same position that I was in for the first video: kneeling, sitting on my ankles, with my collar chained to the wall behind me and handcuffs holding my hands captive behind my back. I don’t even look into the camera until Malfoy smacked his cane across my back, pulling a cry from my lips, ordering me to do so under threat of another blow to my bruised and broken skin. It takes almost all of my energy just to sit there, but I reach deep down within myself and lift my pained and weary gaze to stare into the black lens.

“Better. Now, Mr. Stark, we have received word that you are on your way toward what you believe is one of our bases to attempt to rescue this woman. As I said before, this is a foolish endeavor. Any attempts to do so will be taken out on her. Jefferson?”

Malfoy stepped away from me, and Brawny man–Jefferson–took his place. It’s obvious what’s coming before it’s happening, and it’s glaringly obvious that if I’m struggling to just sit upright that I’m not going to be strong enough to fake it or hold anything back like last time. Maintaining my composure for as long as possible was the best I could hope for, and even that was a tenuous goal at best.

That resolve lasted up until the first blow Brawny delivered against my already injured ribs. A broken scream tore through my lips as white-hot fire shot out from where I’d surely at least cracked a rib by this point. Each breath tugged on them and sent a nauseating wave of agony through me, so I’m forced to pant and sob as shallowly as I can as more and more blows are rained down on my back and stomach until my body can take no more, and I pass out, held up only by the collar around my neck.

~~~

“Turn off the machine. They’re here. Get ready to move her.”

The hastily spoken words broke through the mind-numbing haze caused by so many volts of electricity charging through my system. Seconds later the torture ceased. I slumped back against the metal chair, my muscles unable to support me after flexing and spasming for so long. My eyes cracked open, only one able to see anything for the machine covering it. Wood messed with the panel controlling the machine next to me, and the guards that normally watched me like a hawk were facing the door, shifting nervously and glancing between one another.

Another hallucination of Loki appeared in front of me. I lifted my eyes to the tall figure that looked both so broken and so enraged as he took me in. It was an interesting struggle on his handsome features. To be fair, I’d never imagined him in here before, so of course he’d be shocked to see me in this situation. I was too exhausted from the videotaping earlier and the shocking treatment to even attempt to force the image from my mind, though. It was nice to see something beautiful for a change, even if it’d hurt later.

The guards seemed to have other ideas, and they swung around to point their guns at the apparition, or, more realistically, me. Wasn’t their smartest idea, considering he wasn’t here and those would definitely kill me, but would that really be the worst thing to happen?

No, don’t think like that.

“Don’t shoot! You could hit her, you imbeciles! Everything would be for nothing!” Wood ran out in front of me, spreading his arms as if he could actually stop the guards if they decided to open fire. He had about as much control over the situation as I did, and I was strapped to a chair and rendered helpless by my body’s weakness even if I was to somehow get free.

Loki glared at the contraption holding me before resting his gaze on me. The harshness tightening his eyes softened when he met my gaze. “What have they done to you?” he growled.

I couldn’t answer out loud with the bite guard still in my mouth, but answering out loud was pointless when he was just a hallucination. Unable to do anything, I just took in the beauty of his rage. He was always so stunning in his armor, looking the king he always wanted to be. This was no different, although even during the tapings of the Invasion I hadn’t seen him look so murderous. I’d hate to actually be on the receiving end of that look.

In the distance explosions reverberated throughout the building, shaking loose some dust from the ceiling to fall about the room. That was new. Maybe they were testing someone else? I couldn’t be the only one learning to improve their powers.

“Tony is breaking through their shielding. I am coming for you, little one. I will tear through every man I have to until you are safe in my arms,” he vowed loudly, fierce determination ticking in his jaw. In my peripheral vision, one of the guards shook his head and took a few stuttering steps away from both the door and Loki. I turned my attention back to Loki. He was much prettier to look at than a cowering guard, even enraged. His hand hovered over my bare knee, and I knew that he didn’t try to close the distance because there wasn’t any point to it; he wasn’t really there.

If only I could imagine him less distraught than this. I wanted the soft Loki that was only for me. The one who chuckled at me when I cursed out my hairbrush for pulling my hair and pulled me closer in his sleep. Who kissed my shoulder as I brushed my teeth. Who knew my coffee preferences and woke me with a cup if he got up before me. Whose cold fingers would be a balm on my ruined body. This version, shaking with anger, was a sight for sore eyes, but I missed my Loki. But it wouldn’t be safe for him to come here. Although these men had tapped into power I didn’t know I’d had, I couldn’t protect him. Not like this, so weak in both mind and body. I couldn’t bear it if he got hurt because of me.

You’re not real, Loki. Don’t come here. It isn’t safe for you.

“I am real. We are here. I’m coming for you,” Loki said calmly, his voice a level cadence that doesn’t do anything to lessen the threatening aura surrounding him. It’s a deadly sort of calm that barely hides the fury behind it. It means that he’s calculating, using all of his resources to think of the many ways to handle a situation. I’d always been more afraid of people who get quiet when they’re angry. It’s just the calm before the storm. And even if this storm wasn’t going to rain down on me, it was still terrifying to look it in the face.

Shouts and screams blended with the sound of bullets firing. Boots stomped across the floor in the hallway. Great crashes of crumbling concrete and debris echoed throughout the room. Wood had taken to cowering behind my chair after Loki had turned his murderous glare on him. I would run and hide from that look, too, if I wasn’t still restrained and didn’t know that it was not meant for me. Plus, it was just too much to try to undo the metal around my ankles and wrists when they would just punish me for it. I couldn’t take another hit in my ribs or on my back. Best to just wait and see what the fuss was all about. Surely this apparition wasn’t Loki, right?

I didn’t have to wait long. The door directly across from me was ripped off its hinges and thrown across the hall to slam into the wall so hard it embedded itself in the concrete. The illusion of Loki disappeared in a wave of green light and was replaced by his looming figure standing in the doorway, lit from behind by flickering light bulbs and the orange glow of a distant fire. The guards who had been tasked with watching me opened fire on him, but their bullets only seemed to anger him further as they bounced uselessly off of him. With a swipe of his arm all of the men, excluding Wood, were thrown into the wall. They slid down to the floor, unmoving, and I looked back to the god stalking into the room.

“It’s all going to be okay, love. I promise.” His words, soothing and calm, were opposite to the fury holding him taut as he moved past my field of vision.

I heard a scuffle behind me, Wood shrieking incoherently, and then nothing save for the chaos happening outside of the room. Loki, now spattered in blood, reappeared in front of me, his face contorted in agony.

“Oh, love…” he murmured, shaking his head as he took me in quickly He leaned over me and his intoxicating scent washed over me. I closed my eyes at the instant comfort it brought to me. Weird how I had never been that in-depth with my hallucinations before, but maybe this last treatment had finally broken that part of my brain, too.

Air rushed across my face as the metal device that went over my head was ripped from the machine with the savage sound of wrenching metal. Cool fingers brushed my skin and I pried my eyelids open to see Loki bending and pulling off the locks restraining me at my ankles and wrists. I fought the exhaustion threatening to take over me, instead willing my brain to make sense of the situation. Was Loki here for me? Or was this just a wonderful and terrible dream?

His long fingers gently grabbed my chin, holding me still as he pulled the bite guard from between my clenched teeth. That was more of a relief than anything else. Damn thing was too big and made my jaw ache.

No, I was wrong. The sting and soreness of my neck after it was freed from the restrictive metal collar by his strong hands carefully ripping it in half was the biggest relief I’d had since coming here. A groan escaped my dry, cracked lips and a flash of pain lit up Loki’s darkened gaze at the sound.

“Get her and let’s go, brother!” Thor?

“Can you walk, love?” he asked quietly, his hands hovering over me as if I were some wild animal he was afraid of spooking.

I had walked here, I think. It was just so hard to remember anything after they shocked me. My jaw ached, both from the bite guard and the thick collar that rubbed against it, so I decided talking wasn’t a necessity. I merely nodded, wincing as my neck muscles that had been forced to remain in one position for so long protested the simple movement. His hands slid down my neck to my back to help me up, but he withdrew when his fingertips met the open wounds left from my last punishment and I winced in pain. They hadn’t given me any of the cold drugs today, so I acutely felt every injury that had been dealt against me as he instead took my hands and carefully pulled me to my feet from the chair.

I stumbled after him, my legs weak after such little use and practically no food or water. He stopped, lips pressed into a thin line, looking over me critically once again. Silent decision made, he picked up my shaking body into his arms and cradled me tightly to his chest. My grubby fingers splayed across his leather armor, doing their best to ground me in the surreal moment. The sharp pain sent through my ribs with each swift step he took as he barrelled down the hallway kept me present if nothing else.

Everything was a blur. I couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long. My entire body throbbing as I was jostled around in Loki’s grip. The screams of men around us. The sound of bullets, explosions, and rockets. The smell of leather and spice filled my nose when I let my head fall into the crook of his neck. My eye and nose screaming from the action forced me to turn my head so my forehead was pressed carefully into him instead. I am disgusting and he’s holding me. What a dumb detail to focus on. Light flashing behind my closed eyes as I gave in to the belief that this was happening and Loki wasn’t going to let me go. Dreams weren’t supposed to hurt this much.

“Is she alive?” Tony.

My eyes snapped open and found Tony, all decked out in his Iron Man suit, standing over us as Loki sat down to hold me in his lap. Fear surged up from deep within me, and I reached up toward him. He looked at me in worried concern, reaching out his metal hand for mine with a thin, sad smile.

I flicked my fingers toward him, and a metal panel broke off of the floor of the jet and flew into him, wrapping around him and pinning him to the wall.

“Wanda!” he shouted urgently.

Distracted, I let up on forcing the panel to wrap tighter around him. I turned to look for the Scarlet Witch, ready to defend myself, and she popped up over Loki’s shoulder, her hands twisting in my direction. I was able to catch the look of conflict creasing her face and then I was out, sinking into Loki’s embrace and deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~

I woke up to silence.

Well, almost silence. My soft breathing and the quiet hum of the heater in the background hardly counted. But that was silent enough compared to the monotonous voice spelling out the truths of the Avengers that had become the background music to my waking moments alone.

And I was so comfortable. My skin felt free of the layer of blood, sweat, and grime it had accumulated against soft, warm bed sheets and my raw, cut-up back wasn’t sticking to a cold wall but nestled into a heavenly soft mattress. The sheets smelled like a heady, comforting mixture of something spicy and the lavender eucalyptus soaps and lotions that I preferred.

And then I heard the soft sound of a page turning.

I bolted upright in bed and wrenched my eyes open. My hands flew out towards the source of the sound and my wooden nightstand followed before I could even identify what was happening. Almost instantly a green light surrounded the furniture and it fell heavily to the ground, a leg breaking off from the impact.

I knew the magic behind that light. Loki. He looked up at me from where he was seated at my couch, uncrossing his dark slack-covered legs and resting his elbows on his knees as he closed his book. He looked concerned, sorrowful even, which is not the expression I figured he’d have after I tried to throw a table at him. It was a small table, but it still counted.

“How are you feeling, darling?” he asked kindly, setting his book down beside him and standing to walk over to me, each motion slow and deliberate. Just like when he had first found me. Like I was a skittish animal he was trying to lure into a sense of security, false or otherwise.

Oh. I wasn��t in the Hydra base anymore. I was in my room. I dug my fingers into the familiar dark green blanket beneath me, tethering myself to the room as I fought the wave of memories threatening to overwhelm me. The electrocutions. The beatings. Malfoy. Wood. My cold dark cell. I shook my head against them as if that would force them from my mind, and closed my eyes.

“Just breathe, love. You’re safe. I will never leave your side. Breathe,” Loki soothed, his patient timbre coming from somewhere to my left. He sounded closer than he had been a moment ago.

I opened my eyes to watch him warily for a moment, determining if he was a true threat, before hazarding a glance around the room I’d claimed over the past several months. It looked untouched in the time span that I’d been gone, and I realized that I wasn’t even sure how long that was. But it was mine, it smelled like me and had my trinkets, my sketchbooks and bits and bobs. And that was something that Hydra couldn’t have duplicated, right?

My wary gaze fell on an IV pole with several bags of unidentified hanging from it, all dripping into the line in my arm. I quickly ripped it out of my skin, ignoring the slight burn and bit of blood that pooled up from my less-than-delicate removal process.

Focusing on fixing that small problem helped steady my breathing, but I didn’t relax, not yet. I still wasn’t sure where I stood with Loki, or what I was doing here, or what was happening next. Too many unanswered questions.

“Those were fluids, antibiotics, and saline. You were incredibly dehydrated and weak. We were worried about infection from your injuries,” Loki said, sounding mildly frustrated as he finally stopped to sit in a chair that had been dragged over beside my bed.

“Nothing goes inside me. No needles or injections or drugs,” I said as firmly as I could. My voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Love-”

“Nothing,” I persisted, rubbing my hand against where the IV had been as I took stock of myself. My body was clean, as I had suspected, and what I could see of it was covered in healing green bruises and small cuts that had been much deeper the last time I was awake. I was dressed in one of my baggy t-shirts, no bra, and clean sleep shorts. I took a deep breath, wincing at the tug and burn of my ribs resisting. Those were still messed up; got it. “Who did this?” I asked, pulling lightly on the collar of my t-shirt.

“Myself. Even after Wanda put you to sleep, you were restless and agitated whenever anyone else touched you. I’m sorry for doing so without your consent, but given our past physical intimacy and the need for you to be cleaned and cared for quickly, I was the one best-suited for the task,” he said calmly, his eyes raking over my face as he spoke. He looked pained as he took me in, his eyes bouncing from injury to injury and then dancing around the room, only to fall on me again.

“Wanda was inside my head?” I growled, glaring at him. I didn’t trust her. What if she had messed with my thoughts? Changed my opinion on something or changed a memory? She was incredibly powerful, and who would know the difference? Who would care if she did?

“I’m afraid that she was, but only to put you to sleep so we could get you to safety. I did not allow them to search your memories, as they wanted.” He frowned, clearly upset at that. At least he had kept up his promise while I was unconscious. The bare minimum, really, but it was still appreciated.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. He must have washed that, too. It was clean and wavy, free of tangles. How much had he done to care for me while I was out?

He reached out to take my hand after it had fallen back to rest in my lap. The warmth in his eyes dimmed when I flinched and pulled it away. A cool, collected mask slipped over the hurt on his face instantly, and he looked up to me with a thin smile. “Now, how are you feeling? You neglected to answer me earlier.”

“Like I was trapped inside actual hell and tortured brutally for days on end,” I snapped. How was I supposed to answer that question?

“They were devastated over your kidnapping. As was I,” Loki said, frustration peeking through his calm facade.

“It’s all an act! They just want to use me! They aren’t my friends! They took their sweet time to get me back because they don’t care. I was left in that hell hole to be tortured and beaten while they were here, living it up!” I screamed, standing out of bed and pointing angrily at the door as my temper broke through my weak attempt at controlling it. I swayed slightly, the blood rushing to my head and blacking out the edges of my vision.

Loki stood up as I did and lightly settled his fingertips on my hips, ready to catch me if I fell and steadying me in the meantime. He left them there after I shook my head, indicating that I wasn’t going to drop, and I didn’t make him move. This close to him, with his gentle touch keeping me steady and his eyes filled with compassion as he peered down at me, it didn’t seem too important to fight him. I craved the comfort that he offered, even as part of me wanted to push it away. That part could shut the hell up.

His thumbs rubbed my protruding hip bones lightly, but even that hurt. I’d lost so much cushion protecting the; how much weight had I lost in there? Were my hips bruised, too? Wouldn’t surprise me if they were. “Come now, little one. I know you don’t believe that.”

I lifted my hands to tangle into the hair at the sides of my head, pulling on it as I struggled with my conflicting thoughts. He was too close. He wasn’t close enough. The Avengers were my enemies. They used me. They loved me. I couldn’t pick apart what was real and what wasn’t.

“It’s what I know. They don’t care. They never did,” I said weakly, my conviction faltering even on my ears.

“And what do you know about me? Do I care? Am I using you?” Loki asked, voice cautious as if he didn’t truly want the answer to the questions he asked. His shoes came into my line of sight beside my bare feet. He reached out and untangled my hands from my hair, not allowing me to yank away from his touch by lacing his fingers through mine once he was finished.

I looked up at him, searching his serious face as he did the same to me. Watching his glittering eyes as they flitted over the bruises marring my skin. The uptick of his furrowed brow as he waited with bated breath for my response. His tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously. My answer meant more to him than he was admitting. Loki had never taken advantage of me. He had cared for my injuries and chased away my nightmares. He soothed me to sleep. He trusted me enough to open up to me in ways that he didn’t with the others. But still…

“It took you so long to save me…” I wasn’t accusatory, just resigned, a heavy sigh following the words.

“I didn’t know where you were, darling,” he replied, voice cracking. Guilt swam in his shining emerald eyes and ticked in his clenched jaw. He relaxed his grip on me, but only so he could stroke the soft skin of the side of my hand with his thumb. “I needed them to find you before I could do anything else. As soon as we knew where you were, we came. I came. If it wasn’t enough motivation that you were simply gone, it’s that vile…” He shook his head and pulled me to him, releasing my hands so he could hold me to his chest. “That cursed video that they sent of you. They couldn’t finish it, but I made myself. And then we received the second video while we were on the way here…” He shuddered at the thought, muttering a curse to himself. “It almost destroyed me.”

I relaxed after a moment in his embrace, closing my eyes as I recalled the videos he was talking about. Those had been my first and last taste of Hydra, and neither of them had been the worst of the treatment I’d been given. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, though. It made it harder to breathe around the lump in my throat and the weight pressing into my chest. My arms snaked around his waist, holding him as tightly as I could. “Thank you,” I murmured, tears springing into my eyes. I was safe now. And that allowed me to feel the full gravity of what had happened to me.

Gently, everything he did was gentle since I’d woken up, Loki guided me to sit down on his lap as he settled down on his bedside chair, never releasing me. I sank against him, curling up my legs to my chest as I tried to fold as much of myself into his arms as I could. His heart raced beneath my hand as it splayed across his chest, the thin material of his white button-down shirt doing little to suppress the quickening beats. His fingers traced nonsensical patterns on my skin and I felt his Adam’s apple bob against the side of my head as I leaned against him.

“I will always come for the woman I love,” he whispered, tightening his fingers around me. He only loosened their grip when I made a quiet noise of discomfort as they dug painfully into one of my many bruises.

The tears that I had been barely holding at bay trickled down my face as I tilted my head up enough to look at him. He took a deep breath before meeting my gaze, searching my eyes desperately for my response. When I didn’t respond beyond looking at him, his expression became closed-off and his hands fell to hang loosely at his sides.

“Wait.” I slid my hand across his chest and down his arm to take his, picking it up and holding it to the middle of my chest so he could feel my own fluttering heart. I needed a moment to process everything, but I didn’t want him to shut me out and run away. I just needed a beat. My mind was such a jumble. Maybe it would be easier to process everything out loud.

“In..” I shuddered and took a deep breath, trying again. “In there, you were the one thought I had to hold onto. Even if I couldn’t make it there all the time, you were my happy place. My escape. I… I don’t know if I wouldn’t have survived it if I hadn’t had the thought of you coming for me to cling to. I don’t know when it happened. We haven’t even been together that long. I…” I groaned in frustration and moved his hand to my forehead. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Just… Look? Please?”

His hand left my forehead to smooth some of my hair back behind my ear before he let his hand fall to curl around the side of my neck, careful to avoid the bruising and healing spots rubbed raw from my collar. His forehead tilted down until it rested against mine and I closed my eyes, breathing him in, and focused on the memories and emotions that were too difficult to put into words.

The first time I had noticed how breathtakingly beautiful he was when he took care of me in the infirmary. The simple pleasure of getting to know the lines and planes of his face, body, and hands as I recuperated and filled the pages of my sketchbook with charcoal versions of him. How much fun I’d had dancing with him and how right it felt to kiss him. The fear that I held for him when we were cornered in that alley. How safe I felt in his arms. How safe I felt when he watched over me after my nightmares. The despair at his rejection. The hope and elation when he had taken it back. How safe and content I felt falling asleep next to him. How good his touch felt against my skin as we tangled together beneath the sheets.

I showed him everything. Everything that I could think of to demonstrate what he meant to me. It was more than words. He was more than words. He was more than a feeling. He was soft, steady breathing in the darkness. He was arms made of cool iron holding me close. He was a small, poorly-suppressed smile as he teased me. He was warm spice and cool touches. He was…

I opened my eyes to see Loki staring at me, tears of his own running down his face as he watched me with wonder in his eyes. It was like watching his heart break and mend itself at the same time. Seeing the tears on his face was too much to bear and I felt the tears I had just stifled begin again. I had never seen him cry, he was too proud for that, but these weren’t tears meant to be hidden away. These were like mine, an outpouring of happiness and love that refused to be contained. Seeing him so open and vulnerable gave me the strength and clarity to finally put my thoughts into words. My hands shook as I curled them into his unbuttoned collar. “You’re home, Loki.”

All desperation and hope and love was conveyed in his lips and tongue moving against mine in a slow, intense kiss. There was no need to rush. Not when we were finally together again, everything laid out on the table. I was safely in his arms and I was never leaving them again. When he broke the kiss he held me against his chest, tucking my head beneath his chin. “Oh, darling woman, I love you. I love you so dearly,” he said, voice watery but full of relief and happiness.

I managed to curl my arms around his neck without pulling on my ribs too much and buried my face into the hollow of his throat. I didn’t care about the tears that stained his skin, and he didn’t seem to either as he held onto me like I was the oxygen he needed to breathe. “I love you, Loki. I love you.”

[rawbiredbest]

Hades and Persephone au for DoomStrange. Stephen has to return to Latveria for the winter months and Victor misses him when he leaves for the Sanctum in the Summer? please?

Like a sea of troublesUnder a perfect moonI know you don’t get out muchBut that’s changing soon

–Steve Hackett, Come Away

- - -

Doom gives Stephen the Suck for the first time on December 21st, 2021. It happens in the middle of the throne room, right in front of the ambassador from Sweden. Strange is stark naked.

He’ll deny it later, but surveillance cameras reveal he did scream.

And then vanish in a cloud of smoke.

The ambassador, a woman in her mid-fifties, shrewd enough to get herself into the vaunted halls of Latveria’s capital castle where so many people – people with superpowers! – have failed, coughs into her fist, picks up where she left on her speech, and hopes she isn’t blushing too hard.

- - -

Of course, neither man dubs it the Suck. Strange is dealing with the mystical equivalent of a fender bender when he lets slip to a budding magician he won’t be around for the next four months.

“Latveria?” The kid balks. “Dude. That sucks. At least you’ll be out of the snow.”

“It snows there too,” Stephen replies.

“Oh. That really sucks.”

- - -

Doom hates it too. There’s no reason for it. He’s examined the phenomenon with every measurement he has and found no excuse for it to exist. It is a twist in the guts of reality, a defect in the world’s stage they all play on, and even that is an educated guess as to what’s happened. It is a cosmic raspberry, an unrelenting, inescapable taunt.

He never lets it go, but he allows himself distraction.

“Victor, your country is thaumaturgic Swiss cheese. What in the winds of Watoomb have you done?”

“Nothing you are not privy to.” It’s true. The jaunts to Hell are a shared history.

Stephen shifts a lens of golden light to the king. Littered across Doomstadt like so much road rash are rips and tears in space-time. A few are wide enough to see inside to alternate dimensions, other universes. One is leaking a tangle of blue-black vines in midair. Beneath, oblivious, royal subjects go about their day.

“I don’t like this,” Strange says, “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

Doom turns, storming away. “You shall assist in closing the voids. If you are going to be here regardless…”

There’s no mistaking the anger in Victor’s voice, though as the sorcerer retracts the Eye back into its amulet, it whispers to him a nuance. Doom rages against himself.

- - -

“We slept together.”

Across the room, Wong closes a drawer on his thumb. Cursing, he shoots Stephen a horrified look as he holds the bruised nail in his mouth.

Strange presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and groans. “That was a mistake, wasn’t it. That was a mistake.”

“Stephen, if he hurt you, I will be the world’s smallest invading force.”

Bless his heart, that makes it all the more painful. “I assure you, it was entirely consensual. Good, even. Really good. I’m oversharing.”

“A tad,” Wong agrees, turning a shade paler.

The magician stares at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. “Another lamentation, if I may. Why can’t the rat bastard take me when it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement?”

“Cheaper to air condition the Sanctum than a castle?”

“Perhaps.”

- - -

Doom does not look forward to Strange’s arrival. He does not. The Suck just happens to coincide with breaking out the ermine fur cloak for the first time in nine months. He waits on the ramparts, another gargoyle collecting a layer of sleet.

Stephen’s arrival leaves cracks in the stone. As the Suck deposits his suitcases like an unceremonious bellhop, he brushes the scent of ozone off. A snowflake melts on his mustache.

“Yet more damage to my home, Strange,” Victor says, approaching him, “You shall pay for that.”

The sorcerer smirks, reaching into Doom’s hood. “I know just the thing.” As they kiss, flesh on metal, there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

[sailor-cresselia]

Zi-O 29-30: Blade spoilers within (from someone who has NOT watched Blade)

Ha! Black!Woz walks out of the Storytime vault and into 9-to-5.

White!Woz: Haha sweet I get to choose Another Blade

Swartz: Hey, what do you think of being a person who gets used… you know, hypothetically speaking…

White!Woz: ...ah. Well. Shit.  

(We continue this super spoiler-iffic liveblog under the cut. It gets long - this one made it to about 3,000 words. My apologies to mobile users. Just... scroll. Scroll like your life depends on it.)

Awww… the café from Blade has photos from back then on the counter, that’s so sweet. And Amane’s actually wearing the recent necklace for Chalice – that’s a really nice touch there, Toei. Product placement, but it’s a really nice tribute.

Another Blade’s design is – that’s terrifying, that’s a lot of knifes. I like how the spade symbol glows red, and it doesn’t have the ‘handle’ part of a spade. It’s a heart, too. But the thing is… this is the second Another Rider to not have the lens-eyes. Everyone up to Another Zi-O had them, and he notably didn’t.

I know people have been saying they’re proud of Sougo for managing to graduate, and I agree. I really do. I’m happy for our book-dumb protagonist. It’s actually kind of nice to see all four of the ‘team’ together. You know, for certain definitions of ‘team’.

Noting here the Tsukuyomi hasn’t told Sougo that his ‘dream’ was. Not actually a dream, so much as a memory. It makes sense that a small 8-year-old reality warper would take the trauma of something like what Swartz did, and assume the first time he saw it was a nightmare, too.

(Seriously, screw that guy.)

Okay, so, I have not watched Decade, but… from the two (2) films I’ve seen with his cast – WxDecade and the first Hero Taisen movie – this seems to be pretty damned in-character for this Daiki guy. “Lol sup hi just saying hello don’t mind me” *proceeds to steal all your transformation trinkets*

Case in point… Sougo and Geiz don’t notice their personal watches are missing until they go to activate the button on the side. Not when they don’t pull anything out – no, when they go to turn them on. Boys. Boys please.

Also, can I just say that I’m starting to see why people pair Tsukasa and Daiki? I mean, the guy came out in a ~magenta~ apron. And they’re both little shits.

Sougo just shoves Woz in front of them. Woz!Kikai is so OP, oh my god. First the mind control thing when it debuted, the satellite dish lasers in Another Zi-O, and now it has extendable robot arms to grab the watches back. Oh my god.

(Kaito, suddenly copied into another existance as Baron: GFDI just let me be a tree spirit already)

(I know it’s a doppelganger, but seriously. So many Barons. So little patience on his end for people constantly trying to revive him as a pawn.) 

Sougo: Okay, so, you guys’s past is my future, and since it’s 2019, anything that happens in 2068 is the future now, so aren’t you talking about things that haven’t happened yet?

Woz: My lord, please, verb tenses get complicated enough without you speaking.

OOF. Yeah, uh, there’s gonna be a. A few problems with Blade ‘2019’. Namely that he isn’t supposed to be in, like. Japan. Ever again. Because Bad Things Happen when he is around fellow Undead. (He made an exception for Gorider, because a certain zombie f*er was stealing his gig, and poorly at that.

((Am I saying that he’s an asshole who is also a zombie, or that he would do a zombie? … Both. I’m saying both.))

Sougo: Okay, so, we need one person who can fight on both ends, and really, if a team is going after Geiz’s watch, it ought to include Geiz, and you guys want me to go after the Another Riders, so of course the groups are me with Tusukyomi, and Geiz with Woz! :) It’s only rational! :) And if you happen to work out whatever’s going on between you, well, that’s just a bonus, isn’t it? :)

Geiz: ...if I kill him, it’s your fault, you know.

Tsukuyomi: This is a terrible idea.

Sougo: I know! :)

(gasp) Dark Toei is giving us the forbidden rebel backstory!

Oh goody Woz was the leader of their team! And he said he was going to ‘infiltrate’ Oma Zi-O’s camp! And everyone died because he seems to have switched sides. Delightful.

White!Woz: Excuse me? I see a pair of powerups here, but not the one I specifically requested you get.

Daiki: Lol you mad?

White!Woz: ...fight us irl bitch.

Daiki: Heh.

Huh… So… when White!Woz’s tablet makes someone do something, they’re supposed to hear his ‘narration’… and maybe that’s a recent idea from the team, but. When it seemed that he was compelling Sougo to come after him – I can’t remember when, it was during either Shinobi or Quiz, but Sougo and Black!Woz were talking in 9-to-5, and he summoned Sougo away, that didn’t happen. Hm.

Sougo: Dang, couldn’t even knock the watch out temporarily. Drat.

Hm. Regulus is showing up in the daytime now… and so is the rest of the constellation. That can’t be good.

Oooh, nifty. Another Blade has the inverted heart for Chalice on her torso, but the spade for Blade on her. Well, blade. As well as a circular saw, which is a bit overkill when you consider the literal knives sticking up from her shoulders.

Oh, hey, remember that theory about how the Another Riders are technically the enemy that each rider fought? Like how Another Gaim opened cracks into the Helheim forest, and Another OOO bled Cell Medals like a Greeed?

And remember why Kenzaki can never return to Japan?

Undead are drawn to fight each other.

Okay, I get why a speed versus speed battle, to counter Woz!Shinobi, would wind up with Diend summoning Accel. But why Birth? Date’s version was never particularly fast – he’s more of a Mighty Glacier. And the suit isn’t really intended for speed, since Gotou was only particularly speedy when he used the Cutter Wing ‘attachment’.

And then I am immediately answered. Bike juggling to get Woz into the air, so that ‘Birth’ can shoot him down without mercy. (Was reminding us of the bike form really necessary? Was it? I don’t think it was. I could have done without seeing that in-action again.)

Diend: Wow, that’s cold, even for me, watching your friend get beat up like that.

Geiz: Bold of you to assume we’re friends. He’s a born liar. I mean, he’s using a ninja form right now.

Geiz: Yeah, no, Woz, screw you. I know you wanted a distraction. Asshole.

Diend: Aw, look, they do like each other.

OH THANK COSMOS it’s Chalice Versus Zi-O. ...for now. There’s about minutes left for everything to go terribly, terribly wrong. (Because Blade.)

And then it immediately went terribly, terribly, wrong.

Kenzaki and Hajime haven’t transformed in years, because they can’t. They would feel each other’s power, seek each other out, and be forced to fight. Probably the only time Blade has reappeared was in a slightly-alternate reality. (shakes fist at Gorider). And Kenzaki looks absolutely terrible. How did you get here so fast, sir? That jacket has clearly seen far better days, is the damage recent?

Some excellent ‘teamwork’ on Geiz and Black!Woz’s parts – using Shinobi’s finisher to get the two targets in one spot for Geiz’s finisher. Clever. Pity that the other two watches aren’t here.

And with that, and some brutal slashes exchanged between Blade and Chalice…

we move to episode 30.

The power-up watches get all electro-staticy, and try to start a chain reaction with White!Woz, but it doesn’t hold up. Hm.

Geiz: What’s your issue?!

Diend: Looking for my boyfriend-rival. No big deal.

Oh man, neither of them want to be in this fight, but they don’t have a choice. Zi-O accidentally knocks Another Blade into the line of fire for Actual Blade’s finisher, so naturally Chalice steps in to try and take the hit.

It doesn’t… technically work. She still gets knocked out of her transformation, back to Amane, and he’s still in his armor.

Kenzaki: oh god oh shit what the hell?! Amane?! what’s going on oh shit

Woz’s storytime vault…

Oh… The Day of Oma is apparently meant for Sougo to stop the end of the world… apparently as brought on by the Battle Fight.

… Rider versus Rider, right? A pair of Riders who can’t coexist, but also can’t not coexist. And yet another who is supposedly erasing all Riders from history. Starting with the primary members of each group. So… if Blade goes, the world goes. If Chalice goes, the world goes. If they both go, Oma Zi-O rises.

“An interesting game, Professor. The only way to win is not to play.”

Zi-O II’s shot in the opening has been replaced by Zi-O Trinity.

Geiz can relate pretty hard to Kenzaki’s resignation to having to fight Hajime, but also to his desperately not wanting to do that thing.

Once again, we have the question of “What is the future you are aiming for?” The question of “And then what?”

Geiz wants to see the one that Sougo – that they will create.

<3

Junichiro: Hey, what are your plans for the new era?

Sougo: ...Uncle, you have no idea how loaded that question is with this group.

(or does he?)

Hey, that camera’s a clue in more ways than one, isn’t it? Another Blade was attacking photo studios, because Hajime’s a photographer. But that camera’s awfully similar to Tsukasas. Who asked you to repair, that, I wonder…?

Yeah, Woz, you’re kind of being a hypocrite here. Criticizing a woman for wanting to reconnect with an old friend/mentor, while unable to get over the urge to lord over having been Geiz’s superior. GEIZ has a point in his anger. WOZ is just being an ass. And Sougo hones directly in on this.

Kid’s got a decent Charisma stat, too.

When Amane picks up the photos, through to when Kenzaki calls for Hajime. That! The Background!

I think that’s a piano ballad version of “Zi-O: King of Time”!

OST when?

And, also, can we get another instance of Future Soldier in-show anytime soon?

Okay, okay, sorry, back to the show.

OH NOOOO.

Firstly, White!Woz summons the two into a fight.

Then he forcibly activates the Another Blade watch inside of Amane.

The transformation has a screen with Another Blade’s face appear and move over her, just like the card that appears when Kenzaki transforms.

Ow, my heart.

OH SHIT RIGHT.

These two episodes have made no effort to hide the green blood that both Kenzaki and Hajime have – from the miscolored bruises to actual bloodstains. And Undead can be ‘sealed’ away – that’s where the Rouze cards come from in the first place. Another Blade – no. Amane doesn’t want them to fight – doesn’t want them to have to fight. So she seals their powers. Their emblems move onto the Another Blade… armor, I guess is as good a word as any.

And now their wounds are red.

But she just took the powers of two Jokers, absorbing them into one person. Leaving one person with the Joker designation.

Herself.

Please note that I typed this immediately before restarting, only to watch the Sealing Stone appear.

It’s the end of the world as we know it, and nobody feels fine.

Oh, the cinematography of this show. A beam visually separating Sougo and White!Woz from their angles on the stairs – it’s going the opposite direction, making an x with the handrail behind them.

We’re back to the question of “And then what?”.

White!Woz’s future is gone, the potential isn’t there anymore, so he’d rather there not be a future at all. I guess we’ll never see if my ‘a future frozen in an endless moment’ theory was right. Pity. I was wondering if they would go that route for him.

Oooh, an orchestral version of ‘Zi-O: King of Time’!

“You can’t just give up! What’s the use in assuming that it’s over?” Sougo is cheering on even his enemy this boy is not nearly as dark as he assumed in the Ryuki arc, oh my goodness. “You can’t say that any one future is set in stone, so keep trying, keep opposing us! I’ll... No. We’ll keep foiling your plans, but you can’t just give up on the world.”

And the orchestral theme just keeps rising in the background.

Oh… and Sougo said the same thing to Woz. Geiz says that he can’t stand living in the past. And, like I guessed last episode, in like, the fourth section of this liveblog… The past that they’ve lived is, technically, still in the future from where they are now. From Sougo’s perspective, and from the perspective of time itself, none of that has happened yet.

Besides, like Geiz is saying, they came to the past to change history anyway. They’re making a new future, all of them – Sougo, Tsukuyomi, and Geiz… and Woz.

“Do you want in?”

“… That sounds interesting.”

Hm. The Trinity watch – which is somehow successfully created by White!Woz – has all three of the current Belt Voices, doesn’t it? The two that the Ziku Driver uses and the high-pitched one from the BeyonDriver.

“If you use this, I will accept it.”

… accept what? The option to create a new future? The future that Sougo’s aiming for?

Nifty – the light from Regulus and the Day of Oma burns out the clouds from the Sealing Stone.

Pffft - ‘the light is guiding us’ no, no it’s not so much that…

(I love the ‘wtf is going on’ faces from Kenzaki and Hajime)

GEEZ Trinity’s basically a mini-Sentai mech, with all three of them in one place inside.

“Guys, no, I’m sorry, I know none of us know what is going on, but I have to take control for a second, I have to do my speech okay, it’s in my contract. This is not optional.”

I like how the hand on the clock moves to point to whoever’s in control of the body.

I really like how Trinity forms all of their weapons – and how they dissolve when discarded. Nice touch.

And I really like the triumphant section of ‘King of Time’ playing behind this fight.

...Regulus is shining still, brighter than before. With a ‘shine’ of pink, yellow, and green. Their colors.

“Why did you choose to let me stay?”

“Because I think you have more potential.”

White!Woz accepts that ‘his’ world will never exist, and that Sougo will create a better one. He goes out peacefully, and warning Black!Woz – no. Warning Woz that Sir Swartz is planning more than they know.

He goes out with a shimmer of golden motes of light, and the glitching effects that have been a key sign of time re-writing an existence.

Oma Zi-O: You’re almost done… only six more until you’re me.

Sougo: But what I don’t want to?

Daiki yoinked the Future Note. Show off.

Which, of course, creates a slight problem for me and my potential ‘fix it’ of Zi-O, down the line in the Re-United ‘verse. Or, rather, a complication.

See, the draft I’ve got has at minimum one of the Den-O’s and Zeronos ferrying Riders back and forth. THAT is how I plan to deal with the amnesia issue. Not warning them in the present and past, like I had planned. But having the ‘contemporary’ versions of them just. Sorta travel backward, and pretend that they’re the ones that from in the past. Just… ya know, keep their past selves unaware of what’s going on, take the brunt of temporary power removal. Fill in for themselves when Zi-O and Geiz meet them.

And I had everyone scheduling this from Tsukasa having somehow duplicated Black!Woz’s book when he grabbed it during the Ghost arc. I have never seen Decade, and have no idea if that would even be part of his powerset. But, like, Trinity just knocked off his ability to turn Riders into weapons and stuff, so. Ya know.

I’m apparently not that far off, if I can work Daiki into it. … need to watch Den-O and Decade first, but that’s just how it goes.

The complication is my stated ‘not wanting to touch on Zi-O’ aspect. I now admit that I want to handle it somehow, but if they keep airing concepts similar to ones I’ve been working on for months, I’m going to get accused of lying.

Arceus, Cosmos, and Gaim DAMNIT.

Of course, you may have noticed I skipped a scene there during the re-cap.

Because not for the first time, something has been saved by Zi-O taking powers away. I’m still decidedly not here for the amnesia concept, and I am not okay with the fact that certain characters have potentially been un-created – Ankh, Parad, Poppy and the like among them – but here’s the thing.

Both Kenzaki and Hajime remember being Blade and Chalice. They can properly retire – They’re both bleeding red. Hajime was never human to start with – he was using the Spirit card to be human. But he seems to be human now. The Blade and Chalice watches appear to have taken their Joker situation out of the picture.

Like how his intervention by introducing the father to Emu, who clearly went on to point him to Hiiro, saved the son during the Ex-Aid arc.

Like how the girls would have never gone missing during the Fourze and Faiz arc, to say nothing of Takumi and Kusaka being decidedly more alive than usual.

Like how Kaito also appears to be alive again after the Gaim arc.

And how neither the girl or her brother died in the Ghost arc.

How Rentaro can become Shinobi in a newly created potential future.

How Mondo got to meet his father.

… admittedly, his apparently re-creating the events of Ryuki might be a problem. I haven’t had a chance to watch any of the RIDER TIME specials, but I hear that’s what happened? Sorry, Shinji.

But here’s the thing. A not-insignificant number of things have turned out for the better… and as long as the ‘you were never riders’ thing can be… worked around…

Hmn.

((also, just a quick note, if you comment on any of the sections in here, I’d really appreciate it if you specify which statements you’re talking about. These recaps get really long, so... y’know, it’ll make it a little easier for a conversation.))

[worshippingmendes-blog]

Marked By Love - Instagram Post

I wrote the end now and it’s 00:17 am so sorry if it sucks haha, bear with me! Please let me know what you think about it and what you wnat to happen in the future.

Wc: 2850

The sun was slowly setting, leaving the city of toronto covered in a beautiful orange color. Shawn inhaled the crisp summer air as he slowed down his steps. His tall boy was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and from his hairline a few pearls made their way down his face. His cheeks were rosy and the long curls pulled back by a thin headband. He catched his breath for a moment as he felt an arm patting his back firmly.

“Woah, good job kid” Andrew said between breaths.

The poor guy was drenched and red as a tomato. He rested his hands on his knees and Shawn could not help but chuckle at the sight. The manager breathed heavily and Shawn placed a large hand on his shoulder.

“You okay there man?”

Andrew squinted his eyes and held up his hand with a thumbs up. Shawn shook his head lightly as a smirk creeped up on his pink lips.

“Don’t” Andrew warned.

Shawn held his hands up like a surrender, but still with the cocky grin plastered on his face.

Eventually Andree started breathing normally and stood up, stretching out his body.

“Think you can handle the rest?” Shawn said, voice laced in worry. Andrew nodded and started jogging, Shawn following his footsteps, running a few feet in front of him. Slowly but surely he quickened his pace and after a while they were back to running.

Andrew’s eyes flickered over the tall boy in front of him, needing something to keep his eyes on. He examined the tattoo on the back of his arm, the one of the light bulb. As Shawn straightened out his arm, his eyes stuck to something else on his arm. He furrowed his brows in confusion at the little star that was placed underneath his elbow.

”New tattoo?” He panted, causing Shawn to stop his motions and give him a look.

”What?”

Andrew nodded to his right arm and Shawn wrinkled his brows.

”What are you talking about?”

He screwed and turned on his arm, trying to find what his manager was talking about.

Andrew let out a sigh and pressed his hand against his shoulder, making him look at his elbow.

“Oh shit”

“Wait, it that not-“

“A tattoo” Shawn said, finishing his sentence. Both of them shared a look as he tries to process the fact that he had, for the first time, been marked by love.

“Who is it?” Andrew asked carefully, almost like he was afraid of scaring the boy. Shawn ran a hand through the hair on his neck.

“You know the girl that I wanted to see during that festival?”

Andrew’s eyes widened and he looked down, regretting stopping him from finding her.

“So, what are you going to do about it? I mean, you need to find her”

Shawn looked searching at him, like he was thinking. Suddenly he got an idea and he could almost feel the light bulb over his head lighten up.

“I got it!” he yelled as he starting running back to his place.

Andrew was just about to say something as the boy took off, leaving him rolling his eyes and walking after him, who was long gone by now.

He slammed the door open, making it hit the wall next to it with a loud noise that echoed through the hallway.

Humming on a John Mayer song, he quickly took a shower. As he rinsed out the shampoo from his dark locks he carefully planned just how he was going to get her attention. The plan was to post a picture on instagram, showing of the mark on his arm and caption it with something really cheesy. And hopefully, she would see it. How he was going to get in contact with her, that’s another story, a story he hadn’t thought about.

He dried his hair with the towel while sending a message to the boys, bribing them with pizza and beer if they would only come over. Neither of them could decline the the generous offer and half an hour later they were all seated in the big couch.

Laughing and eating of the family pizza that Shawn ordered, he filled them in on the plan. They thought he was joking at first, but after seeing the little star on his arm, they understood that the picky boy really was in love.

“Okay, but how do we know that she follows you on instagram?” Josiah said, mouth full of pizza.

Shawn licked his lips before letting out a grumbling sigh.

“We don’t, we just have to cross our fingers that she does”

“But she did come to see you during the festival, so she must be some sort of fan” Brian added.

Shawn sent him a thankful look as he stood up, drying of his sweaty palms on his black jeans.

“I need to find an outfit! Josiah, set up the camera, this needs to be good!” He yelled as he walked out of the room, making the guys let out a laugh at how invested he was.

“Will do!” Josiah said and took a sip of his coke.

”How about this?” Shawn said, walking into the living room and making a pirouette as he did. He was wearing a nude button up with a pair of black jeans.

The guys looked at him with distaste as they all shook their heads.

“Dude, no.”

Shawn rolled his eyes and went to change again. This time he had chosen a red and black striped t-shirt. And as he walked through the door a loud booing noise was heard from the crowd of boys.

“I hope you didn’t pay money for that Mendes!” Brian said with a laugh only to be slapped gently by Andrew.

“Did you forget that he’s a literal millionaire?”

Brian furrowed his brows as he drank the last of his beer.

“Sorry” he muttered.

“But seriously kid, that’s awful”

Shawn sighed and turned on his heels.

As he, for the third time, confidently came out of his bedroom the guys were quiet. They eyed him up and down, looking at the way the dark short sleeved button up made him look. The fabric was tight around his arms, showing of his biceps.

“That’s the one” Josiah was the first to talk. Brian nodded and Andrew gave him a high five. Shawn smiled sheepishly at the compliments as he sat down on the chair in front of the gray background.

Josiah fixed with his camera as he nervously rubbed his hands together, or fidgeted with the ring on his finger, something he had a habit of doing when he was nervous. This had to be perfect.

“Okay… we’re all good!” Josiah announced and placed his eye over the hole.

Shawn posed awkwardly as he took a few photos.

As he pulled away from the camera, he inspected the pictures carefully before turning to Shawn.

“What the heck are you doing with your hands?”

Shawn wrinkled his brows and looked down at the small screen, and surely, he was doing something strange with his hands. They were placed awkwardly at his sides, making him look like he was a confused fifth grader.

“I have no idea. When I don’t have my guitar I don’t know what to do with them!”

Josiah looked up at him from where he was sitting.

“Well then you might want to grab that guitar, because this is the most uncomfortable photo I have ever taken of you man”

Shawn chuckled a little as Josiah gave him a playful pat on the back.

His favorite acoustic guitar was sitting on the chair in his bedroom, over a few pillows. The guys used to make fun about how protective he was over his precious guitars, and he couldn’t blame them. He treated them all like they were his children, heck, even better.

He carefully lifted up the guitar by the neck and ran his hand over the strings. The soft sound coming from it was enough to make him fall in love with music over again.

Shawn walked back with his guitar in his hands and sat down on the thin stool. His tall frame was really to big for it, making him have to spread his legs to keep himself steady and from falling.

He placed the guitar in his lap and rested his right elbow on its body, placing his left hand next to it.

A few clicks was heard from the camera and he stared into the dark lens as he ran a hand through his curls. They were still a little damp from his shower, causing them to stay place, slicked back by his large hand.

“That’s the one!” Josiah exclaimed as he once again pulled back from the camera and stared down on the little screen. And surely enough, it was a great picture.

Showing of just enough of the little star on the underside of his arm, and with the intense stare that could get any girl’s knees weak. 15 minutes later, the picture was edited and ready and the only part left was the caption.

The boys sat in silence on the white cushions. All deep in thought of what the boy should write.

“I got it!” Brian almost yelled, startling the rest of the group.

“Thinking about you! But without the ‘a’, you know. Keeping it cool”

He looked at Shawn for approval and he nodded his head lightly, playing with the thought.

“That might actually work” he mumbled as he openes instagram.

Fixing the picture and adding the caption, he skeptically examined it. He was about to fix something as he thought ‘screw it’ and pressed the ‘post’ button. Throwing his phone away as if it was burning hot, he barely had the courage to look back at it.

“Okay, I posted it” he exhaled and the guys cheered him on, causing a grin to crack open his lips.

“You’re going to get your girl man, I promise you!” A slightly drunk Geoff whispered to him. He had his arm wrapped tightly around his neck and a beer bottlw in the other. Shawn shot him a smile and a small ’I hope so’, trying to get rid of the growing lump in his stomach. What if she didn’t see it? What if she didn’t feel the same? What if, the first time he really was in love, ended in heartbreak before it could even begin?

His mind was racing, and the anxiety making his heart pound faster and faster by the seconds.

He excused himself from the group and rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, he placed his both hands on the cold ceramic sink.

Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm himself down. Humming the lyrics to ’In My Blood’ quietly to himself as he washed his face with cold water. It was silly, but the song was important to him and it really did help with his anxiety.

Looking up in the mirror, he realised how fucked he was for her. No, he already knew that from the sleepless nights where he laid awake thinking about her smile, or the way her face light up as he started playing on his guitar. The way she moved her body to the beat of the music and her eyes. God, those eyes. Those eyes followed him wherever he went.

They were like crystals, glowing in the light from the sun. She had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. And he dreamed of someday being the reaction to that extra sparkle in them. The reason her pupils widened, the way they do when you look at someone you love.

He was so fucked for her, and he could only hope that she felt the same.

-

The apartment was empty. Again. Usually you wouldn’t mind having the flat to yourself but lately you’ve had this feeling, this need, to be around or with someone. You had no idea what had caused this sudden change in attitude but there was nothing you could do. So you’ve tried your hardest to cover it up, taking home one night stands or throwing big parties that only left you feeling like the mess the day after. Anything to get rid of the feeling.

But you knew, deep down, that the feeling meant something more. You longed for a relationship. Someone to be there for you through wet and dry and to fill the empty space that had been present these last couple of weeks. It had been a year since your last relationship, a relationship that ended in broken glass and broken hearts. The thought of how it ended still made you stick to your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that you were over it. But catching, who you thought was your soulmate, and your best friend hooking up in your- now his, bed, was a sight that didn’t wash out very easily.

And no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that those things happen and it’s only to move on, it had still left it marks on you. It was the reason to why you usually left by the sunset and just stared at your phone when they wanted to meet up again. The incident had wrecked you, more than you were willing to admit. And now here you were, with a brain telling you that it was time to get back in there. And somehow, it didn’t feel too wrong.

You craved intimacy, even though it scared the living hell out if you, the feeling of holding someone close still beat the fear.

You let out a sigh, staring at the empty document in front of you. The assignment wasn’t due until three weeks from now, but you liked to get things done. But this time you had just been sitting in front of the open computer for two hours, not writing a word on the empty paper. Your mind was in so many different places, but none focused on the writing. Closing the computer, you let out a yawn as you sent a quick look to the wall, the big clock that Olivia had insisted that you just needed.

To your disappointment it was only 10, which was almost not an acceptable bedtime for a twenty year old. As your stomach reminded you that your last meal was six hours ago, you decided to get some food.

Cooking was definitely not one of your specialties and you soon settled for a pack of mac and cheese that was stuffed into the back of the cabinet. You slowly stirred the macaroni-water as your phone vibrated, signaling that a certain canadian boy had posted something on instagram. Fishing the phone up out of your sweatpants you placed your finger on the home button and were redirected to Instagram.

It was a gorgeous picture of the boy and you quickly took a screenshot before placing a like. You eyes wandered over the screen as they stuck to something on his arm. A familiar star was placed on the underside of it. You felt your heart race as you read the caption.

“Thinking about u”

The intense stare made your knees weak and you slowly rolled up the leg of your pants, to show of the exact same mark there. You stopped breathing and your eyes flickered from the screen to your ankle. The little rose that was his mark, was still placed on the inside of your wrist, reminding you of the first time you saw him during that concert. He had been so young back then, seventeen years old and just getting started, having no idea of the fame and recognition that was awaiting him only a few years later.

You sank down on the floor, back pressed firmly against the glossy fridge. Emotions were flowing over you in waves and you tried your best not to get up and scream, run around the apartment and just screaming. You knew what it meant when you got another person's mark on you, you knew. It meant that you had fallen in love with them, and there he was. Your idol since four years back, having a pretty little star placed on the back of his muscular arm, your mark.

Showing that the moment you both shared during the festival meant something to him, that you actually did mean something to him.

You heard the water boiling and the timer going off, but still there was only one thought going through your mind.

”He’s in love with me”

So with shaky fingers, you opened the direct messages and sent him a short message. A message that was the perfect mix between cocky and flirty, and that didn’t give away on how every muscle in your body felt like spaghetti.

One sentence that made you completely bubbly inside, and that made him drop his phone into the toilet.

“My mark looks good on you”

Taglist ( let me know if you want to be added/removed) : @nervousroses @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @oyesmendes @justmesadgirl @wronglanesassholeshawn @yourwonderbelle @hunshawnmendes @ultrunning @myownplacex @maryjanerose @thinkaholicer @musiic-is (tumblr isn’t letting me tag)

[crosbys-guccifloral-crocs]

What Was Once Mine -- Part IV

AN: Here it is y’all, Part 4 of WWOM! 

"In My Life" as written and originally performed by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

Warnings: fluff, some smut, daddy kink and cock warming

Word Count: 2.2k 

Part III --- Masterlist 

8 HOURS LATER…

As the newly reunited Styles family slept in their bed with their baby girl between them, Harry was soon awoken by a shrill cry.

“Oh, my sweet little bird, what are you cryin’ fer, huh? Daddy’s here, wha’s the matta’ love? Did yeh have a bad dream? Nightmare’s over baby. Daddy’s home again. We’re all together now m’love.” Harry says, walking with Lennon downstairs to the kitchen. “Are y’hungry little bird? S’tha what the tears ‘er for?” H asks his 2-month old baby girl as he goes to the fridge to retrieve some of his wife’s milk.

After an unsuccessful attempt at trying to feed his daughter, Harry realized that it was just her nappy that needed changing. “Oh, daddy’s sorry, baby. He’s still learning. M’sorry, Len. Let’s have a nice bath first, okay?” Harry coos, cradling his daughter as he goes to the linen closet at the end of the hall to retrieve Lennon’s baby bath. Just as Harry placed his baby girl in the bath, he heard his wife coming down the stairs before wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and watching him bathe their baby.

“Good girl, Len. You’re being so good for daddy, little bird. You’re a natural, love. She usually hates when I put her in the bath. I have to FaceTime with your mum just to calm her down.” The missus smiles leaning forward to stroke her baby’s soft head and resting her own head on his shoulder.

“Really? M’mum knows how to calm her down?” Harry asks curiously while pulling Lennon to his bare chest and out of the bath.

“Yeah,” Y/N says, handing H the pink Care Bear bath towel. “Y’know how she loves the Beatles, she can’t sit still for me without your mum singing to her – especially Blackbird. I think it’s because she spent so much time with us here after Len was born. Isn’t that right, little bird? Maybe we should give Nan a call tonight, yeah?” Y/N smiles, taking her baby girl from her husband and taking her up to her nursery. Once Lennon is changed, nursed and comfortable she begins to nod off in Y/N’s arms.

“Can I have her for a bit, baby? I’d really love t’sing to ‘er.” Harry asks, reaching for his infant daughter.

“’f course you can, love, I’ll be waiting for you in our room.” Y/N replies ask she kisses her baby’s forehead and exits the room.

“Now, baby girl. This song has gotten me through some pretty tough times in my life, especially these last few months without you and your mumma with me every day. I hope it can help you too. It’s your mumma’s favourite song as well.

Across the hall in the master bedroom, the missus can hear her husband singing a song that means so much to their family.

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever not for better

Some have gone and some remain

All these places have their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life I love you more

In my life I love you more

“Good night, my little bird.” Harry whispers after putting the baby down and exiting the nursery. When he re-enters his bedroom he sees his beautiful wife looking at him with tears in her eyes.

“what’s the matter, love? Not still hormonal are yeh?” he chuckles, crawling into bed and kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, I am, I’m just so happy you’re home, H. Back with us as a family, and y’know what that song does to me – especially when you sing it. I just can’t stop thinking about Jeff and what he did. What are we going to do? We need to expose that bastard for what he is.” Y/N says, her voice cracking with both anger and sadness.

“I know, our baby girl was conceived to Rubber Soul, love. S’why we named her Lennon, innit?” H chuckles. “And, y’know what, love? I think we just need to confront him head-on. I’m gonna go into the studio and just show him the video and give him back his filthy money. God, I don’t even want to think about seeing that bastard again after tomorrow. I’m going to ruin him. I’ll plaster his picture and what he did to us all over every magazine in the country. That wanker took everything from me, from us. I won’t allow it.” Harry seethes.  

** Next Day at Studio**

“Hey, H. You’re four hours late to the session, dude. What gives?” Jeff says as he stands from the studio sofa looking more annoyed than Harry has ever seen him. Though it takes everything in Harry’s power not to pummel his ugly mug into the ground.

“Yeah, sorry ma’e. Was up late with little bird and Y/N.” Harry replies through gritted teeth, attempting, and nearly failing to keep his annoyance at bay.

“Oh. No worries, ma – wait? Y/N? Why were you with her?”

“Y’know. Funny you should ask tha, ma’e. I actually received some interesting information about the night I ‘cheated’ on her in Toronto that made her see things a little differently, and she decided to give me another chance.” Harry smirks, pushing Jeff’s shoulder in a fake ‘playful’ way yet soon getting angry again.

“Ah, man. You were so much better without her, dude. Look at how much progress you were making on the new album.” Jeff says, doing nothing to hide the disappointment in his tone.

“That’s enough! Cut the shit, yeh fuckin’ asshole. We know what yeh tried to do. Cayla found me. So give it up.” Harry spits walking away from his manager and former friend. Turning back one last time Harry says, “oh, and in case you hadn’t already figured it out, you’re fired.” Before Jeff could react Harry threw in a mean right hook for good measure and tossed an envelope at the man on the ground, “that was for Y/N, she sends her regards. Oh, and there’s your $20,000 and your video. Before you try to destroy the evidence or spin some bullshit story don’t think I haven’t made several copies of that video and put out a story to every publication in the UK and the Americas. Your life is over, dude.”

** Later @ Styles House **

“Oh, God, baby. You have no idea how good that felt to confront him.” Harry says as he sits on the floor of their living room having a tea and some tummy time with his girls.

“I’m glad it all worked out, love. But are you really going to go to the press with what Jeff did? I mean, I just don’t want it to start a ton of drama and rumours about why we’re really back together, not that that really matters. I just don’t want any more cameras and strangers around Lennon than there already are.” Y/N wonders looking up from her baby to her husband sitting next to her.

“Nah, I don’t think so, I think that bastard and Full Stop as a whole will have a ton of shit to sort through after losing me as a client. I mean I am kind of a big deal you know.” He winks at his wife, “And besides, who cares what the fans think. We know the truth, we’re happy, that’s all that matters, right? We’re a family again, love.” Harry beams tickling Lennon’s tummy and basking in the sounds of her glorious giggles filling the house.

“Hey, love? Where’d you disappear to? I finally got Lennie down after singing Yesterday to her like 6 times.” Harry exaggerates as he pulls off his white tee shirt and unbuckles his belt before entering the master suit bathroom where his gorgeous wife was already anticipating his entrance into the shower. He steps into the stream of steaming water behind his wife and kisses her back as she runs the loofah down her breasts.

“Oh, pet. Y’know how I love to do tha for yeh,” Harry groans, spinning Y/N to face him and tossing the loofah toward the back of the shower stall.

“Oh, well excuse me, Mr. Styles. Why don’t you just finish the job for me then?” Y/N smirks leaning in to kiss her husband’s plump raspberry lips.

“Who said anything about finishing, love? We’re just getting started. Haven’t had yeh fer months, I’m insatiable.” Harry grins as he trails slow kisses down his wife’s neck and over her breasts before taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth. Causing his missus to let out a loud pleasure-filled moan. “Yes, H!” Y/N gasps as she brings one hand up to rest in her husband’s hair, while the other hand snakes down the front of her wet torso to make contact with her tingling clit rubbing it desperately to find some sort of relief. Harry’s mouth is quick to leave his wife’s breast with a pop. Y/N opens her eyes, whimpering at the loss of his warm mouth around her.

“Are you touching yourself love? Y’know I don’t like it when you touch yourself without permission, right, pet?” Harry asks, getting onto his knees as he awaits his wife’s answer.

“Yes.” Y/N replies breathlessly. Placing both hands in her husband’s hair this time. Desperately trying to attach his mouth to where she wanted it most.

“Wha was tha, love?” Harry asks, smirking up at his needy wife.

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N answers, gasping as her husband’s mouth makes contact with her clit. Taking his time with her, he licks a teasing stripe up her center before delving into her as if he were feasting on his last meal. Y/N’s gasps and moans soon become uncontrollable and Harry can tell that his wife is about to find her release.

“So wet f’me, love. Haven’t even been inside of yeh yet and yer goin’ mad. Missed this, love. Let’s take it t’the bed, yeah?” H says as he stands up to take her by the hand and lead her to the bed.

“N-no, please, Ha -- daddy. It’s been so long. Need you, now.” Y/N says as she nearly cries from the pressure build up in her lower belly.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” Harry wonders.  

“Want, you, daddy. I need your cock inside me. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Harry smirks picking his wife up and throwing her over his shoulder and exiting the bathroom before tossing her gently on the bed. He wastes no time crawling up the bed and swiftly entering Y/N’s dripping center.

“Ugh, baby. You’re still so fucking tight. M’ not gonna last, love. Haven’t been inside yeh fer months, yeh feel like heaven around m’cock.” H grits out reaching down to rub Y/N’s clit, helping her find her release as quickly as he’s about to find his own.

“YES DADDY! YES, RIGHT THERE!” Y/N screams as Harry continues to pound into her clenching center several more times. With a shout of her name H cums long and hard inside the woman he’s longed for for the last 5, nearly 6 months.

“Fuck, love,” Harry groans, before collapsing beside his wife and turning to kiss her shoulder. “I came inside yeh, love, m’sorry. Shit, I shoulda been more careful. I feel like a teenager again.” He laughs, yet Y/N can sense some slight anxiety in his voice.

“H, baby, it’s okay. I went back on the pill a few weeks after Lennie was born, it’s fine.” Y/N assures her panic stricken husband.

“Oh… w-was it because you and that—that – uh, were you two like together?” Harry stutters, tears ready to spring free from his eyes.

“No, baby, of course not. There’s been nobody but you, my love. But you know I’ve always struggled with my skin and period pain, so with the stress of our formerly-impending potential divorce and Lennie’s first few weeks of life my skin was going mad with breakouts and the post-pregnancy cramps were insane, so I started taking them again.” Y/N smiles wearily at her husband stroking his face, clearly warn out from all of their previous activities.

“Oh, well, I must say, my love, your skin does look flawless now that you mention it. I could also get very use to you calling me daddy now that I am an actual daddy. It has a nice ring to it, dunn’it?” Harry winks and smiles, kissing his wife’s lips.

“Sure, H.” she giggles before turning away from her childish, but happy husband.

“Oi, come back here, love. I want some cuddles and m’cold.” He says before sliding his flaccid cock back into his wife as they drift off to sleep.