#so I get why some folks don’t go the extra mile to have a side kink blog

[severedfromthesource]

personally i like seeing non kink blogs follow me and liking my stuff. hello perverts, i see your likes are set to private. i cant imagine why

[hallucie]

2nd MARS OBSERVATION:

✨Leo Mars✨ I’m so sorry but when they’re mad they make everything about themselves and can be very defensive. (Sometimes it’s just not about you) My Leo Lilith is showing lmao. They can also be very dramatic when they’re upset which draws attention on themselves. This is really stereotypical of me to say but these individuals have very strong egos but the nice thing about it is that no one is allowed to walk all over them— they really respect themselves. The bad thing is that it can cause a lot of power struggles. The great thing about this placement is that when they’re upset their heart is almost always in the right place. Just like Cancer Mars, Leo Mars stick up for people and really go the extra mile. They walk with a proud attitude and others look to them for advice in self-confidence. Leo Mars love to be acknowledged for their confidence & will gladly hype up another. Oh and in sports? Yeah it’s all about them. They’ll put on a show for everyone in the crowd, EVEN IF THEY ARENT WINNING. The one thing about Leo Mars is that they never go down without a fight.

✨Virgo Mars✨ Oh God… where to begin. They’re very similar to Gemini, but less passive. I have a love hate relationship with this placement because they tend to be so picky that they end up annoying themselves, but I feel like this comes from anxiety. Virgo Mars really focus their energy on the imperfections in life, which can cause them a lot of stress. To others they can seem very cutthroat or cold hearted. They can come off as rude or “too busy to be bothered”, but I genuinely think they just can’t stop being stimulated. Side topic they really don’t like unsolicited advice— I think this stems from the idea of “take your own advice before you dish it out to others”. Virgo Mars have very good advice and very high standards, so they’ll tell it to you straight. OH AND THEY ARE SO GOOD AT PRACTICING SOMETHING OVER AND OVER AGAIN— to the point of perfection! Britney Spears did this with her choreography before shows. They’re great teachers too. Side note, messy eating upsets them— something like a sloppy joe, or hard taco would annoy them.

✨Libra Mars✨ One thing I’ll say about this sign is they will yell. I don’t know where exactly it comes from but so many Libra Mars I know will just lose their shit and get into a screaming match. Honestly I feel like Libra Mars get pissed because they’re always putting other people before them. So it’s like they get mad when they realize someone is walking all over them. Libra Mars are willing to give you the shirt off of their back. I love a good Libra Mars placement. I’d say the only thing bad about this placement is when they do get upset it’s very hard for them to pin point what they’re mad about because it’s just one thing after the other. It’s like if they can’t be actively creating peace they get frustrated. It must be hard dealing with a planet in its detriment. I also notice that this placement is seen as clumsy in their first years. I don’t often see many Libra Mars being gym rats either— not to say they can’t because they definitely can once they fall in love with the way they look.

✨Scorpio Mars✨ Oof. Okay their fuel is just straight up spite. It’s so funny because I don’t even think they realize it. Some would say spite is bad, but honestly it creates a lot of passion. Sometimes holding onto anger gets you places. Scorpio Mars are so rejected because of it too as if its immoral or wrong— it’s normal to feel spiteful at times. And as much as people say scorpios are sex crazed, no. Scorpio Mars are SO secretive with their sex life majority of the time. I’ve also noticed the pain threshold is insane, even emotionally. These folks will investigate deep into something that eventually ends up hurting them in the end (like deep diving into socials to see if their partner is cheating). Why do they do this? I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like Scorpio Mars are subconsciously mad at themselves and they just blame others, even if the other person is wrong I feel like the native doesn’t see what part they played too. When these people are mad at you, they can’t see you as a good person. It’s very black and white for them, never gray. Scorpio Mars also have very sly remarks but I feel like they’re said behind closed doors more often, though they have no problem saying how they feel to your face. These people are ride or dies. Similar to Leo they will not go down without a fight, but their fights are usually emotionally motivated. Would kill out of love.

[steveskafte]

KEYWORDS AND KINGPINS Most chronically online folks are intensely on the side of something, an idea they think is individual and independent, but sounds the same when they say it out loud. All those philosophies and causes have their own special keywords and kingpins, so you know where they're headed long before they get to the point. Some go the extra mile of bumper stickers, hats, or t-shirts. The most extreme will hang flags from their cars and homes. I've seen a lot lately with a simple two-word slogan, applying the old familiar suggestion to my country's current political leader. You know the sort. I've got no use for billboard people – they got too lazy to speak for themselves, so decided to let some mass-marketer do the talking. What can you offer that no one already knows? Your secret thoughts and feelings. No one writes a blog about my experiences, experts never gather to discuss my inner workings. They don't sell posters with my name plastered on it, so it's up to me to make myself known. Storytelling is such a primal human desire, probably the most basic social tool that we have over other animals. We can pull up a memory and tell each other all about it. You weren't there for yourself, let me take you. In conversation, writing, images of all kinds – there's an endless opportunity to get ourselves across. Do that well, and you'll find fine folks who return the favour. So that's why I find it so tragic, the endless repetition, quotation, verbatim borrowing of thought. I grew up in a quoting culture, surrounded by folks who always had a pithy scripture or talking point on hand. I rejected the cold nature of it, as if off-loading the conversation to some supposedly reliable source meant that we could skip over the struggle of compiling complex thoughts of our own. It's much more time consuming to absorb a thousand sources, sort them out in our brains, then spit out something new that none of them said on their own. But it carries a very real risk – at the end of the effort, we might believe something different. I was raised with seeing a changing mind as a threat. This created people who would hurtle down that cul-de-sac of certainty, be finally forced by circumstance to shift in some sense, but then continue through life with no hindsight. "I've always thought this way," they'd claim, and every time their minds changed, they'd claim the same. I've learned to happily catalogue my old ways of thinking, other side of the see-saw with some balance in the middle. I'm not worried about letting down the cause, because the cause is not my friend. It's a thousand strangers in the darkness, rattling away at dirty phones and keyboards. They've got a lot to say, but none of it comes from them. April 10, 2023 Annapolis County, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5630 of my daily journal.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 3 - "Who did this to you?"

Fandoms: Linked Universe

Ao3

Warnings: major injury, attempted murder, blood, near-death experiences

---

Trouble comes with a smiling face; not that Wild knows that yet. All he sees is an eager young woman with kind eyes and a humble dress, offering to show him where he can get some wine to cook with tonight.

He and the rest of the heroes have been on the road for quite a while now, without a single town in sight. Nothing but various barns to cross their path. This is the first actual town they’ve seen in miles, even though it’s not a very big one. Yet, there is a small inn for weary travelers, and a marketplace near the front entrance of the town where farmers can sell their goods and towns-folk and gossip. The whole group of them are rather low on funds, but the market seemed like the perfect excuse to relax. Spend some money that they just barely have. Pretend to be normal people for just a few hours.

Just until sunset.

It was Wild, Twilight, Warriors, and Hyrule out in the market while the others were making deals with the innkeepers to get cheaper rooms and more beds. Wild wasn’t really sure what the others were wanting to find out in the market today, but Wild was on the hunt for quality ingredients for quality food that he couldn’t make while on the road. He planned on making a meal tonight fit enough for Zelda herself, and he needed wine to do it. Not to drink, of course not, but to soak into fine slices of meat to add extra flavoring. Nothing strong enough to get a man tipsy—and if he ends up with extra wine, he’ll put it in a flask and gift it to the Old Man. Hylia knows he deserves it.

But he couldn’t find anything even remotely related to wine in these small markets. Some stalls sell alcoholic jars of milk, but Wild honestly has never even heard of milk that could be alcoholic, let alone ever cooked with it. By the time the sun was starting to caress the horizon, frustration was bubbling in his belly because of this and all he could think about were those berries he saw on a tree a few days ago that looked perfect for making some of his own wine out of.

Twilight and Warriors were looking at a jewel-smith's stall, admiring the finely crafted trinkets and murmuring to themselves about the ones that would match her eyes, or impress that gentleman at the tavern, and Wild soon lost interest in both the stall and his love-sick companions. He had stood several feet off, leaning against a brick wall, eyeing the closest stalls to him and hoping for even a small sight of anything close to wine set up for sale.

And then he saw her. Trouble, despite him not knowing it. He didn’t even suspect it. Perhaps he’s gotten too used to the threats of other worlds, that he forgot the threats of his own.

She walked up to him, a swish to her brown dress that seemed to almost have a pink tint. Her hair was brown, done up in messy braids and a bun above her head. Wild assumed she was the daughter of a farmer who was selling crops from their farm, so he didn’t assess her too critically. Before he knew it, she was stopped a few feet from him, swaying her dress side to side between her thin fingers.

“Is there something you’re looking for, travelers?” she asked, her voice sweet like sugared honey. Beside him, Hyrule blushed a bit at the ears.

Wild wasn’t much in a good mood at the moment, but he decided that asking for help might be his only option at this point. “I’m looking for wine, or any kind of beverage like it made out of berries?”

The girl hummed, pressing her finger to her chin in thought. “The most popular beverage ‘round here is milk…” she said, and Wild’s shoulders slumped. But then she continued. “Though, I know a liquor shop further in town where they sell all kinds of drinks. I’ll show you the way, but it closes really soon.”

Hope surged in Wild’s chest. Perhaps he would be able to make a fancy meal tonight after all! Feeling in lighter spirits than he had all night, he told Hyrule to inform Twilight and Warriors that he would be going to the liquor shop. Wild barely noticed the slight hesitation on Hyrule’s face before he turned and did as he was asked. Wild should have noticed it. He should have thought more about how eager and smooth talking the girl was, should have been more in tune with his companion’s concerns, but he followed her out of the market anyway.

And now he’s here, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood thanks to a hole in his stomach. The “liquor store” was nothing more than an abandoned shop several blocks away from the market, but he only found that out when he walked inside and saw the hastily put together lanterns to give the illusion of life, each one placed among dust and cobwebs. Before he could even turn back and question what was going on, the girl was sliding her arm around his side and heartlessly impaling him with a familiarly curved, sickle-like blade.

Her laugh was also familiar as his knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor, wheezing. Though not familiar in a way that he knew her name; he knew her kind.

“Wh-” he gasps, using one hand to clutch at the floor blanketed in bloody dust, and the other to press onto the wound in his stomach like he’s trying to keep everything in. “What-”

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here, hero,” the girl… Yiga chuckles, stepping over his crumpled body to squat by his head. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure either. I fell into a portal… and found myself in a whole new world. And I saw you, and your friends. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to take you down. This is for Master Kohga-” Wild’s too weak to fight her off as she reaches for his body, searching his pockets and taking the only healing potions that he had. “-and for Calamity Ganon. I don’t care what happens to me now, as long as you die painfully and slowly, right here.”

Then, she stands up, takes his potions, and leaves, shutting the door behind her as she laughs into the night.

Stupid. Wild is so stupid. How did he not guess something like this would happen? Did he truly let his guard down so badly that he forgot to always be on the lookout for Yiga soldiers? Has he become so comfortable traveling between worlds that didn’t have rogue Sheikah that it didn’t matter for him to worry about them as much?

He’s going to bleed out and die here, all because he wanted some wine to cook with in a town that only sold fucking milk and he couldn’t bother to make sure the person he was following was actually someone with good intentions. He can already feel his vision swirling, and his entire body feels pathetically weak and cold. The pain is unbearable, bringing tears to his eyes.

He coughs up blood, and does his best to prepare himself for a failure’s death, as he’s too weak to even call for help; let alone try and save himself.

Stupid…

His vision swirls white, and then fades black, and he knows nothing more.

-o-o-o-o-

“Something’s wrong,” Twilight says, several minutes after Hyrule told him and Warriors that Wild had gone off with some farmer girl to find a liquor store.

“Something is wrong,” Twilight repeats when they ask a local villager for directions to the nearest liquor store, and they reply the only alcohol this town sells is the milk in the market.

Hyrule is quick to point out the direction he remembers seeing Wild and the girl go off in, and then they thankfully split up to cover more ground. The second there’s no one to see, Twilight changes into his wolf form, sniffing the air desperately for his kid. Wild’s scent is one that he will always remember, it’s stored and locked within his brain, right next to Mipha, Zelda, and all the kids at Ordon.

He finds Wild’s trail after a nerve wracking few moments, and then he’s dashing through dimly lit streets like his life depends on it.

The feeling of something being horribly wrong only gets stronger when he finds Wild’s scent leading inside a run down looking building with dim, flickering lanterns in the windows. Then, the reek of blood hits his nostrils at full force. He shifts back into his human form and bursts into the front door without a single care on what’s on the other side.

The stench of blood is stronger here, even for his human nose. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that his eyes drop to the floor along with what feels like a stone in his stomach. Wild is at his feet, curled up like a child, red pooling around his terribly pale body.

“No-” Twilight drops down to his knees, already pulling out his spare red potion and gathering Wild into his arms. Wild makes a strangled groan through his throat, but his eyes are squeezed closed.

He’s alive though. The thought that he’s still alive is the only thing that gives Twilight enough strength to pull out the cork of his jar and shove the opening to Wild’s lips.

Wild chokes as the liquid enters his mouth, but Twilight doesn’t let up. It’s preferable to drink red potions, but when it comes to drastic situations like this, just getting it in the injured person's body is enough to save their lives. Wild coughs through the liquid and writhes in Twilight's arms, and it’s all Twilight can do to keep the bottle there and shakily whisper every comforting word that he knows. Eventually, color returns to Wild’s cheeks, and his eyes blink open blearily as his choking turns into instinctive swallows.

When the contents of the bottle is gone, Twilight lets the glass jar fall to the floor as he now uses his newly freed hand to check Wild’s wound.

It’s still nasty, and deep, but no longer life threatening. Another potion or some stitches and Wild will be as good as new. For the first time in what feels like years, Twilight allows himself to breath out a sigh of intense relief.

“Twi…?” Wild asks, voice incredibly small.

Twilight holds him just a little tighter, willing his heart to calm down. He’s almost… he’s come so close to almost losing-

“Who did this to you?” Twilight demands with a bite to his tone that he doesn’t mean to direct at Wild.

Wild doesn’t react to it though. He just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It… doesn’t matter…” he replies in a whisper. Twilight feels anger swell in his stomach and he almost argues back, but Wild talks more despite how much it must still hurt. “Later,” he says. “’M hurt, wanna sleep. Deal with… it later.”

Twilight takes a deep breath, counts to five, then lets it out. He doesn’t feel any less upset. However, he keeps his voice level, deciding that arguing with Wild here will just upset the boy more than help him.

“Okay,” he agrees reluctantly. “I’m going to carry you, okay? I’m out of potions, but Wars or Hyrule should be nearby with some of their own. Then we can go get a well deserved sleep.”

Wild simply nods and relaxes into Twilight’s arms, breathing a sigh and closing his eyes. Twilight bites his lip, then resolves himself to hold one of his dearest friends close to his chest as he stands up. There’s blood everywhere, staining his hands, his tunic, his boots, his pants. But he got here in time. Wild will be okay.

That’s all that matters now. Once Wild has all his color back and his stomach no longer has a hole in it… then Twilight can make sure whoever did this regrets being born.

“I got you, kid,” he says, “I got you.”

[ebonyslasher]

Hey!! Could I please request a headcanon for the slashers going to a family cookout with their s/o.

(Girl I know Jesse is going to be tearing that jerk chicken up)

Absolutely. Also girl yes tf he would. Matter of fact, we’ll start with him

Slashers going to a family cookout with their s/o:

Jesse always rolls with style, so it was standard to pull up in a Black 2020 Aston Martin Vanquish. Stuntin’ on everybody.

Your dad and uncles are posing and taking pictures by it lmaoooo; he doesn’t mind.

Also coming extra late lol. Shit started at 2 pm and you two came at 5 pm. Black people operate on cp time so there was plenty of food left.

Goes to pile up his plate with jerk chicken, ribs, yams, cabbage, etc. He wants to eat everything.

The fam knows about his.....”accident”, so they don’t give him a hard time about eating in a separate room.

Also they lowkey scared of him sooooooo....

Jesse ventures into one room where there’s a random baby sleeping.

Like who’s child is this????🤔🤔

He just goes into another one, which is thankfully empty. He was hungry as hell. And was excited to sip on that henny too.

Tears that jerk chicken up! 1 minute and that shit was gone lol it was good as hell. Loud as fuck smacking on that shit too.

Ends up spending the night cause y’all both drunk and full by the end of the night. Real slizzardddd🥴

Bo Sinclair

Bo hasn’t been to a cookout inna minute! Mostly cause everybody is made of wax except his brothers.

He’s another one who knows how to tear some shit up. Niggas named Bo don’t play about they food.

Honestly vibes well with your folks. He’s pretty respectful to everybody. He doesn’t feel out of place with them.

Y’all be roasting each other at home so he knows how to hold his own when your cousins try him lol.

Acts sweet with you grandma, mostly cause he wants her to slide him an extra piece of red velvet cake. 🙄Deceitful ass nigga lol.

Oh he’s playing cards with the main crew. Bo is good at it too, has a perfect poker face.

“BAM! Y’all ain’t got nothin’ on me!”

“Awww nigga shut up, you ain’t win. Musta cheated yo ass off!”

“Hellll Naw, I just got skills unlike you.”

When I say he goes to town on the food, he goes in. His eating style is literally chomping down on shit. We aren’t in a food competition sir.

Been to a million and 1 cookouts back in the day.

But, since the hood is scared of him, he hasn’t gone to one for a very long time.

Fortunately, being with you has calmed people down (somewhat), so he gets to go to your folks’ get together. They side eye the hell outta him when he gets there though.

He’s the one who always dancing and sayin “Whatchu know about this song youngin’?!”

Um everything, old ass man. We been hearing the same shit since we was kids. Don’t play😂😂😂😂

He jokes around with everybody. You can hear that ugly uncle ass laugh miles away. Like ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww lol. That’s your baby though.

He doesn’t go heavy on the food like you would expect. Why? 'Cause he made himself some to go plates and hid them while no body was looking.  

He’s a natural at cookouts lol that shit is engrained into his DNA.

He really don’t like being around a bunch of people😐

But, there’s food involved so he can tolerate it.

Ya moms, aunts, and cousins think he’s cute. 

“Where you get him from? Ooooo I like him.” 

“Umm he’s not for YOU. That’s my nigga, back off.”

If they try to come up and flirt with him he’s like nah bih. Get tf out tha way.

He’s there on a mission, for the food and food only.

He’s staring at the dessert table, ready to attack it and devour all of them. You lead him away before his attempt.

Sees the random baby sleeping on the bed when he does his mandatory snoop around the house. He wishes he could do that.

All the kids want to hang off his arms since he’s so tall. You have to save him from them cause his face said this ain’t it and never will be.

He gets one of every dish. Except anything that looks too green cause fuck veggies.

He has a food baby by the end of it. He’s so satisfied that he’s moving even slower than usual.

Your aunts all slide him an extra piece of their pie(s) that they saved for their favorites. Gladly takes them all. 

[mediocre--writing]

there’s a blanket at the harrington house. it’s a bright red, matted, too short for any person to actually sleep under without their calves and feet hanging out.

despite its age and so the matting, it’s the softest blanket in the house. but it sits in the linen closet at the end of the upstairs hallway under the other unused blankets that only ever get pulled out when a bad snow storm knocks out electricity or something.

something like billy hargrove running from his house in the middle of a blizzard. literally running. like through the snow. with only a jean jacket to guard him from the wind and cold.

it’s winter break and tensions have been rising in the hargrove-mayfield house and nobody has been allowed to leave, “family bonding” or some shit.

but family bonding never worked when you’re forced to sit in a room and pretend to care about the people you’re with.

billy cared for max and tried to have an opening in his heart for susan, but, damn, if his dad don’t make him want to slam his head into a concrete slab.

so he was trudging his way to loch nora, which, surprisingly, was only a mile or so through the woods and down a few neighborhood roads.

with the cold, however, it feels more like trudging across the continent of antarctica blindfolded. billy’s pretty sure he got turned around once or twice, but once he saw the massive harrington house, he knew he had made it.

his small victory was diminished when, much to his disappointment, all the lights were off. and there were no cars in the driveway.

and it was then that billy remembered what his last conversation with steve was about:

“i’m flying out this thursday to meet my folks in florida. they bought me a ticket so we can spend christmas on the beach together,”

and he was so excited about it too! how could billy have forgotten? well, maybe he forgot when he was trying to expel all thoughts of steve out of his head because he didn’t want to develop ‘feelings’ since they were ‘just sleeping together.’

(too late, shitbrains, you’ve been head over heels in love with steve since the day you met him!)

but billy doesn’t want to go home. and he has, literally, no other friends, and wouldn’t dare going back to his caustic household, so he fumbles around in the dirt of a potted plant next to the door, grabbing for the little plastic bag that held a spare key to the front door.

walking inside it was like a heatwave came over billy, and he could feel the tingling in his fingers when they began to thaw.

he shedded his thin jacket in favor of getting rid of the wet slush sticking to it and walked to the thermostat, cranking it up high as it could go, just for a little bit, until he was warm.

in the mean time, billy looked around the house, most of which he didn’t see much of, since it was mainly just him and steve in steve’s bedroom.

the kitchen was big, the fridge was full, and so was the pantry; billy would have to cook something for himself later.

around the ground floor, there was an extra bedroom that looked untouched and it’s drawers were empty, aside from a few filled with old pictures (which billy would definitely look through later).

there was a closet and another door that led to the basement, but there was a chill just standing at the door and billy didn’t care for that. the master suite was at the back of the house, but billy felt kinda weird going into steve’s parent’s stuff.

going upstairs, billy passed the first door on his right, steve’s room, which he had been inside enough to know like the back of his hand. beside that, there was another guest bedroom and a large bathroom.

at the end of the hallway, however, there was a small closet, and when billy opened it, there were blankets. everywhere.

there were fuzzy ones and more decorative ones. ones with patterns and ones with fringe. ones that looked handknitted and others that still had the tag on them.

at the bottom of the closet, there sat a red blanket. matted with love over the years but softer than any of the other blankets.

lifting the blanket up, billy could smell steve on it. his cologne or hair products, maybe a mix of the two. it was familiar.

the smell was calming. billy felt at home.

so he grabbed the soft red blanket and grabbed another white one (it really was fucking cold) and made his way into steve’s bedroom.

he noticed how clean the room was, assumed steve must have straightened it up before he left, maybe in the far hope that his parents would fly back with him.

but billy dug under the tucked in comforter and sheets, laying the red blanket as the bottom layer and throwing the white one on top, cuddling himself in as he rubbed his face on the pillow (which also smelled just like steve).

the scratches and bruises on his arms and cheeks didn’t even ache as he got cuddly and warm, almost disappeared as his mind was filled with the thoughts of being so comforted by steve, when steve wasn’t even there.

billy woke that morning to the small red blanket twisted around his torso, the other blankets still covering the rest of his body. it was one of the, if not the, best sleep he’d ever had without having steve directly next to him.

it was the power of the soft, small red blanket and the magical relaxation steve’s room had on him, lulling him into a true comfort.

pulling himself away from the warm cocoon of blankets, the red blanket still draped across his shoulders, billy looked out the window where you could see the back patio and pool, all layered with snow as a few flurries still came down.

it was soft, peaceful, and billy felt like he could fall asleep standing up watching the snow, even with the rough material of his jeans still rubbing at his legs.

that is, until the phone rang.

billy’s eyes immediately darted over to steve’s bedside table where the phone and answering machine were blinking.

billy, cautiously, picked up the phone and answered:

“harrington household,”

“excuse me!?”

it was steve. steve was on the other line. billy’s mouth opened like a fish and he looked around the room, as if that would actually give him something to say.

“hello!” steve spoke again, “who are you?”

“... it’s billy,”

“why are you in my house?”

“why did you call your house if you knew nobody was here?”

“i was going to leave a reminder on the answering machine for when i got home,” steve said quickly, “now why are you in my house?”

“there was a blizzard,” billy mumbled.

“ok? but why are you in my house? i told you i wasn’t going to be back until tuesday,”

“i—i, uh,” billy felt like a scolded child being reprimanded by a parent. “my house—i didn’t want to be there,”

“why?”

steve, for as much as he acted like it, was far from oblivious. he knew about something going on with billy and his father, anyone could tell if they bothered to look, most just chose not to look. steve, honestly, just wanted to see if billy would admit it.

“stress, you know, around the holidays,” billy chuckled, giving the most vague reason and attempting to brush it off.

“so you went to my house?”

“i forgot you weren’t here and i know where you keep the key—“

“you know where the key is!?”

“so i let myself in. i didn’t do anything, just took a few blankets from the closet and slept in your room, promise. i didn’t do anything bad or, or weird,”

“i believe you,” there was a lull of silence. billy felt holding growing restless and steve head was pinging with questions. “with blankets did you take?”

“uhhhh... just a white one and a soft red one,”

“the red one at the bottom of the closet? it’s kinda matted and a bit short?”

billy mumbled a ‘yeah’ and steve grinned from the other side of the line, “that’s the one i always sleep with when it gets super cold, too,”

billy smiled at steve’s confession and wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, taking a deep breath, inhaling steve’s smell.

“well, i’ll leave now,”

“no!”

billy’s eyebrows furrowed at steve’s exclamation. “no?”

“i mean, nobody is there, so i guess it didn’t really matter if you stay there for a bit, right? plus, with the blizzard and everything, you probably shouldn’t be driving,”

“i walked,”

“what?”

“i didn’t drive, i walked,”

“i’ll yell at you for that later,” steve said as if he needed a reminder, “anyway, you’re welcome to stay for the next few days, billy,”

“thank you,” billy sounded bashful. like he was embarrassed to be caught but grateful nonetheless.

“of course. now don’t pick up the phone when i call again because i need to leave a message on the machine,”

“ok, pretty boy,”

and while billy was content with living in steve’s room for a while, living in his smell and in his space, steve couldn’t wait to sleep with the soft red blanket once billy left.

it would smell like billy’s cologne in no time.

[astoryinred]

"Trese" and the truth in the fiction

In short: why the actual monsters in Trese don't have horns, wings, or summoning rituals

Finally the Netflix anime adaptation of the Filipino graphic novel/comics series "Trese" has dropped. It is available in several languages such as English, Filipino, Japanese, Spanish...just to name a few. It is not a perfect work, both in technical terms as well as an adaptation of the source material, but it is worth a watch. Go watch it. Please.

That being said, there is so much to unpack about the series, and I do not mean in terms of the voice-acting and the ethnicities of the persons involved, or just how crunched together the writing is. I will leave that to the critics. What I am writing here is a view as to the real life truths woven into the horror/supernatural threads of the "Trese" episodes, and why these are important. It's because for a lot of people encountering "Trese" at this point, the actual every day monsters of the tale (or at least of the first 4 episodes) are even more distant than the aswangs, tikbalangs, nunos and other supernatural beings that populate the anime.

This will go into spoilers below the cut

Episode 1: The series opens with a train stopping right near the "Guadalupe Station", and some of its passengers being attacked by aswang as they walk along the railroad tracks. During the course of investigating this and another case (that of a ghost murdered on Balete Drive), Alexandra Trese learns that other spirits using this train line have recently perished in a fire or have also been murdered by aswang in league with a politician.

The squatter/informal settler community mentioned in this episode is based on a real one. That area has gone up in flames from accidental and not so accidental fires over the past few decades. Some of the settlers have moved on, but a good many have stubbornly stuck around despite the land being eyed by a large property developer. That area is a symptom of the inequality that plagues that particular part of the metropolis, since it is only less than a mile away from some of the country's swankiest gated subdivisions. While the powers that be are (probably) not involved in selling anyone for meat, they still have a long way to go to address the woes of that community when it is not election season.

As for the other murder in the episode? There have been several cases of women associated with or married to prominent politicians who have died in mysterious circumstances, with some of these deaths ruled as suicide. In many cases, the truth has been hushed up, or simply swept under the rug.

Episode 2: While Alexandra is pursuing the trail of a tikbalang running wild in the city, she also is called to investigate a mysterious series of electrocutions in a gated village. Along the way she discovers that this is a form of human sacrifice to the bagyons manning the electricity providers of the city.

As reprehensible as the bagyons are, what is truly sickening is the seeming indifference of the people in Livewell Village. It's mentioned more in the comics (but also given a line or two of exposition here by the Nuno) that the people regularly offer an outsider, usually a skilled worker in charge of maintenance, to ensure that the bagyon will bless them. In real life there is the callousness that some people exhibit towards essential workers such as yes, repairmen and electricians who have to endure heights and storms just to ensure the "comfort" of consumers. Although the Philippines isn't a country crawling with litiginous folk and "Karens", there are enough of this sort to make essential workers' lives miserable on a daily basis.

Episode 3: This is a difficult one, both in the comics and the anime. One of Trese's cases leads her to cross paths with an actress named Nova, who is later revealed to have had her child left to die (hence making her a target for a specific type of monster). Nova's story is admittedly not easy to deal with and may be considered incredulous, but there are two important contexts to remember when watching it.

The first is that abortion is still illegal throughout the Philippines. It cannot be legally offered by any clinic or medical practitioner. There are clandestine alternatives available, but at a steep price.

That being said, most Filipinos regardless of where they stand on the abortion issue will still consider the abandonment or murder of an infant to be beyond the pale. Yet this does happen. Every month one can expect to read a story or two of babies being tossed in the trash or left in bathrooms---and those are just the stories that make it to the press. There have been exposes about mothers who have sold off their infants to "adopters" willing to pay thousands of pesos or dollars for an under the table transfer of custody. These happen because of desperation, poverty, and lack of resources to support mothers. Maternity leave is only up to 120 days here in most cases, and there are few resources to support mothers with PPD, mothers abandoned by their partners, or those with just too many mouths to feed. Questions of "bodily autonomy" are not first and foremost in the mind of many women who do the worst to their newborns; the question is food on the table for the next day or the day after. Survival is key. Not independence or empowerment.

With these in mind, it is not surprising that Nova is considered one of the most disturbing and reprehensible characters in this episode. From what we see, her choice of abandoning her child stems from vanity and pursuit of a glamorous career. We can see that this is not because she would be out on the streets if she had a child to care for, or because she was escaping something. It's just portrayed as pure selfishness.

It is interesting that Nova is introduced here almost as a juxtaposition to another mother, Ramona. Ramona, the mother of Crispin and Basilio, is an armed insurgent who engages in a ritual to avenge herself on the military men who forced her to murder her own comrades. It is also implied earlier in the season that it was not just murder involved, but that Ramona had also been a "prize" given to the soldiers who captured her. And yes in this context, it can also mean rape. The Armed Forces of the Philippines does not have a shining record when it comes to its treatment of women dissidents and prisoners. This backstory does not justify what Ramona does for the remainder of her screentime, but it does show why she has absolutely no sympathy or mercy to give to anyone outside of her two children. She is part of a cycle of killing that makes any peaceful resolution of the insurgency in the Philippines so difficult to achieve. Both sides behave abominably, and civillians do get caught in the crossfire (or explosions).

Episode 4: Much of this episode revolves around the events in and surrounding a certain police station located near a large public cemetery. We see that the police chief Captain Guerrero has his hands full with cases and keeping his subordinates in line. The cops in the precinct range from the innocent apparent newcomer Tapia to the more stereotypical "asshole" cops Reyes and company. Later it is discovered that the bodies apparently "stolen" from the graves are resurrected zombies who are being directed to attack the station for a specific reason...and it has to do with how the police run their often bloody operations.

The real life neighborhoods surrounding the cemetery have seen their share of violence and "extra judicial killings". In some houses there are still candles and placards calling for justice for family members killed in raids or accused of having been drug suspects (almost a death sentence in the Philippines 2016 onwards). Eyewitnesses and CCTV footage show members of the police force taking part in these raids and clandestine operations. The worst part? The neighborhoods surrounding that particular cemetery haven't even seen the worst of it. Other disadvantaged communities in the north of the metropolis have seen even more deaths of this sort...with some of the deaths being those of children. Google the name of Kian delos Santos as a test case. Kian's case was one of the few to have extended media coverage, and even then the resolution has been rather wanting.

It is tempting to go into the "all cops are bastards" line of thought with this episode, but I do like how Captain Guerrero is forced to interact with someone who he is trying to save in the station, since as it turns out this person has recently lost a family member to this form of senseless murder. Captain Guerrero and the audience are led to remember that these victims have names. They had families. They had lives. They are more than body counts and statistics. That scene is one of the most humanizing of the series, and shows that while not all cops are bastards, there is enough rot in the institution to make it a problem.

Episodes 5-6: I would go more into Episodes 5 and 6, but those deserve a whole new treatment into the nature of truth, compromise, and even gaslighting (even I am not sure how much of a certain character's narrative is true, and how much is just meant to confuse Alexandra with regard to what she knows of her father). The context she does face before those harrowing revelations is a very real one though: things going wrong in a penitentiary.

The penal system of the Philippines is alarmingly punitive and full of inequities. Privileged inmates like politicians do receive special treatment (including media coverage and becoming leaders of factions) while less privileged inmates languish and must struggle to survive the brutal social hiearchy in some institutions. And yes it has happened that inmates have been sent out to do "jobs" of murder and arson in the outside world, often being snuck in and out. A movie that tackles this aspect better is "OTJ (On the Job)" directed by Erik Matti. That one will keep you up at night.

The ending of Episode 6 is rather ambiguous, and it remains to be seen what Alexandra really experienced during her trials prior to becoming a detective, and what her father really did to her and her sibling. We'll have to wait for another season to get to the bottom of that. But if the anime will continue to draw from the comics themselves for stories/case files, we can count on seeing more societal demons and baddies alongside the supernatural ones. And those are the villains that Alexandra Trese cannot just readily beat; it will take a heck lot more than a babaylan na mandirigma to handle those!

[morganaspendragonss]

I wish you would write a fic where tk has a bad day with his depression and can’t even get out of bed and is so anxious and carlos helps make sure he’s okay and takes care of him :)

holly's august extravaganza day 12: let me love you when your heart is tired

anon i sincerely apologise for turning your prompt into a personal therapy session. i want to put an extra warning on this fic because it deals heavily with themes of depression and there are a couple of lines that could be interpreted as suicidal. it's taken from my own personal experiences of depression, and i do not claim to speak for anyone else suffering from this.

if you think this fic could trigger you in any way, please don't read. stay safe folks 💚💚

ao3 | 1.1k | depression, mental illness, implied suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort

TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Exhaustion settles heavy into his bones, his entire body a dead weight, like he’s chained to the mattress with a hundred tonnes piled on top of him. This pressure, this tiredness—it’s all he can feel, all he knows; it’s all-consuming, and far too familiar.

Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—

But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.

He can’t remember if he’s supposed to go to work today. He thinks, maybe, it might be a day off, but he honestly doesn’t know. And… He’s not sure he cares. No, he knows he doesn’t. His chest feels like it’s gaping and empty, but still there’s no room for anything inside. They’ll be better off without him anyway, if he does in fact have a shift; there’s no way he could competently insert an IV or bandage a wound when lifting a finger is a near impossible task right now.

Rolling onto his back takes two minutes longer than it should, the sheets getting trapped under his body in a way he can’t bring himself to fix and his arm bouncing freely when it lands on the mattress. The weight tying him down has shifted now, sitting squarely on top of his chest, turning even breathing into a chore.

He can breathe, it’s just… It would be so much easier not to. It would be so much easier if he could just close his eyes and drift away from it all for a little while, and maybe when he next woke up things would be different. Better.

Get up, his mind tells him, unbidden.

And TK would love to, truly. His eyes fix on the door, but it may as well be a million miles away for how easy it seems to get to.

Get up, again, get up, get up, get up.

TK sighs, a long exhale that makes the weight feel that bit heavier.

Get up.

He scratches his nails along the bottom sheet.

Get up.

His arms tremble as his muscles work against their will to push him semi-upright.

Get up.

He almost falls back down, but somehow he doesn’t. Somehow, he manages to get his legs over the side of the bed, back bent with the weight of the effort it’s taken to get here. Standing takes even more time and walking is another matter entirely, his brain, just as slow as the rest of his body, having to coach him through each and every step.

When he finally gets downstairs��

(and, god, the stairs. tk had stood at the top of them for too many minutes to count, staring down and resisting the urge to give up then and there. he thought he’d fall on the way down, then thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. by the time he got to the bottom, the whole ordeal was already starting to fall into a distant memory, like it had happened to someone else)

—When he finally gets downstairs, he doesn’t bother with a bowl, or a spoon, or any of the normal breakfast requirements. He carelessly pulls a box of cereal from the cupboard and digs into it with his hand, but it tastes like dust on his tongue and sticks in his throat, and he barely manages to chew twice before realising that this, too, is more effort than it’s worth.

He’s not even sure why he came down here. He’s not hungry, or he doesn’t think he is.

The box gets abandoned on the counter, and TK begins the arduous process of dragging himself back upstairs, his entire body aching for bed.

The next few hours pass in a haze, TK alternating between scrolling mindlessly on his phone and staring blankly at the ceiling, or whichever spot is within his eyeline. He’s not picky. No messages come through from his dad or Tommy or the team, so he guesses he didn’t have a shift, which is probably lucky. One does appear from Carlos, letting him know that he’s going to be back later than expected due to a massive pile-up.

TK sends a thumbs up back, but his heart sinks even further.

He must fall asleep at some point, because after what feels like a blink, the room is significantly darker than he remembers it being and there are noises coming from somewhere in the house. TK’s brain is on a lag, so he barely registers the sounds as something to potentially be worried about before the bedroom door opens, revealing Carlos on the other side.

“Hey,” he says, smiling softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

TK blinks at his boyfriend, taking a second to remember how to work his tongue, then responds, “S’okay.” The words are little more than a breath, and his eyes drift shut almost as soon as they’re out, his energy back to zero after the exertion.

He hears Carlos coming closer, then the sound of something being placed on the nightstand, near his head. A hand strokes down his face and lips brush his forehead, the touches light and feeling like both too much and not enough all at once.

“I got you some water,” Carlos whispers. “Think you can drink some, sweetheart?”

TK forces his eyes open again, catching sight of a glass, a granola bar sitting next to it. Carlos helps him to sit up, and TK takes the water in a trembling hand, managing a few sips, though a couple of drops spill over onto the sheets. He flops back down as soon as the glass is safely back on the nightstand, spent, but the smile Carlos gives him makes it worth it.

The granola bar goes ignored, but Carlos doesn’t push the issue. Instead, he walks round to his side of the bed and sits, propping the pillows up and settling himself so that TK’s head rests against his waist. A second later, there’s a hand in TK’s hair, brushing gently back and forth, the rhythmic motion doing what words can’t and settling something inside him.

The weight isn’t gone, but it has lessened, if only by a tiny bit.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

[batarella]

The Commander - Bucky’s Time (Arkham Knight x Reader x Winter Soldier)

IT’S BUCKY BARNES MY DUUUUUUUDES. YES THE COMMANDER IS HOT STUFF AND THE BADDEST BITCH THERE IS WHICH ONLY MAKES SENSE THAT SHE GETS TO HAVE TWO OF THE HOTTEST MEN ALIVE. 

THIS IS SET IN THE TIME BETWEEN THE COMMANDER CHAPTER 1 AND CHAPTER 2. ALSO A VERY SINFUL FIC. PLS READ THE WARNINGS. (I’m not gonna mention about me going to hell cuz I’ve been running it the past few weeks lets be honest)

WORDS: 8124 (DID I HAVE TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS? FUCK YEAH) WARNINGS: VIOLENCE. FIREARMS. COMBAT. INTOXICATION. THREESOOOOOOOOOME (ORAL SEX BOTH or should I say all three RECEIVING, VAGINAL SEX, FINGERING, DOUBLE PENETRATION)

MASTERLIST

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

“You’re gonna love him. He’s gold.”

“Then why am I only hearing about him just now?”

“He was based in Sokovia.”

“Sokovia?”

Slade enthusiastically pushed the double doors open. Deathstroke, the Arkham Knight, and the Commander stormed down the empty halls, all the way down to the combat grounds where Slade said this new recruit was waiting.

“How’d you get him to join the militia?” Commander Y/N asked. Slade didn’t turn. “He came to Venezuela for some other shit. Asked him if he wanted the extra cash.”

“The amount this guy is asking for definitely isn’t extra cash,” the Knight’s eerie voice filtered.

“He was Hydra’s best man. What do you expect?”

The Commander’s eyes shot up. “HYDRA???”

At the sight of their superiors the men’s muffled voices faded out, and there were salutes, whispers, and shushes. Slade led them into the crowded combat grounds where several of her men were in the middle of sparring sessions. The Commander nodded at them to carry on.

And when they went further into a flock of soldiers circling a rather familiar figure standing in the middle, Commander Y/N felt her whole bodily system stiffen in cold ice. The long, ruffled hair. The metal arm. The machine gun strapped to his shoulder. There was no denying it.

“Barnes.”

He turned around.

Slade placed his arm on his shoulder. “Knight. Our newest recruit. The Winter Sold-“

“BUCKY?!”

Everyone turned their heads at the Commander. Bucky Barnes, the said prized soldier, lost his calm, brooding façade the minute he locked into Y/N’s eyes and shot up with the same astounded gape on his face. Bucky removed the mask covering his mouth. “Y/N???”

One. Two. Three painfully long seconds.

Not one person in that room dared to move a muscle.

“Uh,” Slade stepped in between them. “You folks know each other?”

The Commander ran her teeth through her lips and coughed out the itch in her neck. She looked away from everyone’s prying eyes.

Bucky did the same. “We, uh-“

“I was called into Sokovia about a year ago,” the Commander started. “Bucky- The Winter Soldier here needed a sniper to cover him on a few melee assassinations.”

“So Hydra hired Y/N,” Bucky continued. “We worked together.”

The Knight turned his visor at the Commander, who was too occupied biting back a smile as she stared at Bucky. He looked just as irresistibly rugged as the last time she saw him.

Slade managed a laugh. “Whatever. Knight, give him everything he wants. We don’t know how long he can stay but let’s just hope it’s after we finish in Gotham. I’ll leave you to it.” Then Deathstroke left.

Bucky held his AK with his other hand and extended his impressive metal arm at the Arkham Knight. He stepped in, head held high, then took it.

“The Winter Soldier.”

“That’s what they call me.”

Y/N looked at Bucky, at the Knight, then bit both her lips.

“Nice arm.”

“Mmm,” Bucky growled.

“Decent profile as well,” the Knight said. “Experienced. Heavily trained. Been here for the last few decades. You a metahuman?”

“Super soldier.” Bucky held his gun tighter, looking straight at the Knight’s visor. “Hydra’s serum.”

The Commander didn’t know if the Knight’s groan that followed was from being impressed or repulsed at that.

“Sergeant Whitman will show you to your quarters. We have a few weeks left here before we head to Gotham. Tomorrow, you show us what you got. Then I decide where to put you and your terms.”

“Slade and I already settled my price.”

“I think your price is preposterous.”

“I was told your militia needed a guy like me badly.”

“I’ve never even heard of you until today,” the Knight said.

“Either I get what Wilson promised me or I go.”

“I get the final say.”

Bucky stepped forward. “I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Neither am I.”

“For fuck’s sake,” The Commander pushed on the Knight’s armored chest. “Beckett. End the sparring. We’re done for the day.”

The Sergeant saluted Commander Y/N and went over to the soldiers at the grounds.

“Knight,” her voice lowered. “Be nice.”

“So you worked with the Commander?” the Knight crossed his arms.

“Commander, huh?” Bucky smiled at Y/N. She smiled back with a bite in her lip.

“For how long?”

“A week. In the deserted high mountains just outside of Sokovia,” she said in a weirdly high-pitched tone, as if she were sighing, yearning for the times.

“Deserted?”

“It was just us two,” Y/N said.

Bucky was still eyeing the Commander up and down with a quirk up his brow. “You really leading this army, Y/N?”

“Were you expecting any less?” she smirked.

“My god, you haven’t lost your touch, kitten-“

“KITTEN?!” The Knight stammered. Y/N side eyed the Knight and rolled her eyes, before grinning back at Bucky.

By then, almost everyone in the grounds had left. The Knight, glaring at the both of them behind his visor, stepped back and scoffed. “Just get him to his quarters.”

“Oh, I will…” she breathed, her eyes locked into Bucky’s. He strapped his gun to his back and reached over to Y/N. By then, they heard the doors slam closed and they were alone.

The Commander joyously yelped as she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck, letting him carry her up in the air in a tight bear hug. His metal arm was careful around her waist, and with a smile just as bright as hers, he laughed. Even as he placed her back down on the ground, Y/N continued to hold him close.

“God, I missed you.”

“Never thought I’d see you again.”

“You’re the one who left, jackass.”

“Sorry,” he ran his metal finger down her neck. “You know how it is-“

“I know,” she whispered. “Are you coming with us to Gotham?”

“Hope so. What’s with the Batman mock up?”

“The Arkham Knight. He put this all together,” she said. “Some revenge plot against Batman he won't say.”

He snorted. “Figures.”

“How…” she raised her arms in astonishment. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to remember me.”

“I got out of Hydra just after our mission. They didn’t get to brainwash out that very memorable week-“

“Memorable, huh?” she smiled. “You have to stay, Buck. The Militia definitely could use a guy like you.”

“Well,” he cupped her jaw, then his long hair fell to his cheeks the way that made her head spin in circles. “Now that I know you're here, I just might.”

She leaned in, inhaled that musky, rugged scent that sent her guts flying and her eyes glancing down at his lips. “Wanna hang out in my room?”

“You sure that Knight fella’s not gonna mind?”

“Mind?” she laughed.

“Come on, don’t hide it, kitten. You’re sleeping together.”

She punched his good arm and he chuckled. “Lower your fucking voice.”

“Shit,” he smirked. “Seems like you have a type.”

“We did it once. And we promised not to do it again.”

“Ah. At least I had you for a whole week-“

“Have I ever told you how hard it was firing a mile away from my target with you breathing down my neck?” she said.

“Kitten, I definitely wasn’t just breathing.”

Bucky traced his thumb down her lip, but Y/N pulled away. “My room. Not here.”

She stopped herself from holding his hand on the way back up to the quarters, especially when there were men around who could have seen them. Bucky was just as gorgeous as he had been. His big blue eyes, incredibly muscled build, his long, scruffy hair she still fantasized running her fingers through. And Though he wasn’t as tall as the Knight, he looked just as equally terrifying, menacing, intimidating,

And painfully hot.

They reached the Commander’s quarters and locked the door. The minute it was safe, Y/N pushed Bucky against the wall and kissed him as violently as she were beating him up. “Fuck, I missed this…”

They tore off each other’s armor. His metal arm, snaking up her back to trace the line of her spine, she let him grab onto her ass, then the back of her thighs, before hoisting her up around his hips.

She cried as her ass hit the table, and Bucky cleared everything on the surface. She threw her head back, legs spread wide, and let the brewing hotness in the air take over her core.

Fuck, did she miss that metal arm.

-----

One hundred men. The first batch out of a few others. They were lined up just beneath a string of trees and shade at the edge of a wide-open field, a few minutes away from the barracks where they’d fixed a training ground out of crates, barrels, and sacks stacked on one another. The day was bright, not a cloud watching from above. It was large enough to be the size of a football field, and usually they came here for shooting ranges and obstacle courses.

The Arkham Knight stood in the middle, arms tucked behind his back. The Commander was at his side standing straight and tall.

“If you are here, it means you’re not as well-trained as the others,” the Knight continued with his speech that had been going on for the last few minutes. “All of you should know that the alpha target isn’t the only threat to worry about. There will be thugs around Gotham. The GCPD. And you’re all gonna have to fight each other. After our demonstration, it will be you against everyone else. In batches of ten, you will fight in this field-“ the Knight pointed. “And the last man standing gets to move up a rank.

“New guy. Get over here.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, walked over from his place leaning against one of the tree trunks, then stood right beside the Commander. She smirked.

“It’s me versus the Commander versus the Winter Soldier. You can use your guns. Just make sure you keep away from the head.”

The most dangerous type of training session there was. But only if it were with anybody else than the three.

The Commander pulled out her AK from her back, pulled on the barrel while cocking her hip. Bucky licked his lips while staring at her and did the same with his own gun.

The Knight, noticing it all, screamed. “Get to it!”

“Good luck,” Bucky whispered into her ear.

The air was a smoky, earthy musk, one that calmed her nerves the way she needed them to with her eye dead focused onto the scope. A few minutes had passed, and still there was silence. The Commander walked into a pile of sacks and waited patiently for any whip of a sound.

She heard gun shots. A few yards away. The Commander hopped onto the pile and caught sight of the Knight just narrowly missing Bucky’s metal fist aiming for his head. She pointed her gun at them and fired at their legs.

They noticed in time, fleeing to cover at the racket her bullets were making flying everywhere in the field. She reloaded her gun, eye on her scope, then fired at the wooden cover she saw the Knight roll into. But he wasn’t there.

She turned to her left, and just as she saw Bucky aiming right at her, she rolled down the heaps of sacks and landed on her back. Sparing no time to pull herself up, she hid behind the pile and stretched her neck. The Commander laid her head back, listened for any more gunshots, and once she heard more, no longer aiming at her, she crawled out.

She made sure her back was covered, then continued maneuvering through the field. Following the sounds of the Knight’s guns, she crouched over and held tightly onto her AK.

She was sure she’ll catch sight of the Knight at just a sharp turn to her right, where a barrel was covering her just barely.

The gun fire stopped. He was reloading. Commander Y/N stepped out and opened fire.

Bucky had gone away, and it was just the Knight, taking cover at one of the crates. Just a split second after the Knight held out his gun and fired back. So she hid, holding the gun with just her one hand and blindly fired at the crate.

Except, she wasn’t exactly blind. Not with her.

At the sound of the Knight’s faint hiss, the Commander smirked.

More gun shots. Coming from her far right. Bucky was on top of the barrels and was opening fire at both her and the Knight. She rolled over to a cement block and reloaded what was left of her gun. The Knight, no longer where she left him, had gone. But Bucky was firing at a pile of sacks near her. He must be there in hiding.

But she couldn’t go after him. Not with Bucky on watch.

The Commander crawled under covers where the Winter Soldier wouldn’t be able to see her, moving so quietly he must’ve thought she hadn’t left at all. She reached his right. Far enough to be out of his line of sight.

She whistled at him, then fired at his metal arm. The bullets bounced off him but it wasn’t without flinching at the impact. The Commander hid behind a crate just as Bucky turned his attention to her and rolled his shoulder. “You're gonna regret that!”

“Sure!”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Bullet after bullet. Bucky kept on his heightened stance, with Commander Y/N barely being able to get away from her cover. She managed to land a bullet or two on his arm again, but it only delayed him by a few seconds before he’d start firing again.

She peered over, ever so slightly just to see where he was, then the Commander saw the Arkham Knight creep over from behind him, landing a good punch right at Bucky’s face to send him toppling over to the ground.

Her AK was out of bullets. She had to throw it out. The Commander pulled out her two pistols, loaded them, then stepped out into the open.

She rolled on the ground just narrowly avoiding the Knight’s shots at her, firing a few of her own when she could. The Commander hid behind barrels. They were so close to each other. And it was impossible to run away now. The Knight started firing at Bucky, who was firing at her. She had one chance.

The Commander waited for that one moment where Bucky had to reload before running up the tallest pile of sacks standing between the two, vertically until she was up in the air, then she flipped over so fast, not a single bullet came close to her body. Her arms outstretched, her eyes making the quickest glances, she fired both guns.

Two shots. It was all it took. She managed to hit Bucky’s metal shoulder and the Knight’s ankle. They both hissed and stopped for the one split second she needed, then she fired at their hands. Both guns dropped to the grass.

When she got to the ground, she grabbed one of the sacks, threw it at Bucky, then used her leg to swipe at the Knight’s discarded gun and fling it across the field. Bucky was on the ground, and just as he stood up, his gun had been thrown away as well.

The Commander, the only one left armed, held her guns at both of them. The Arkham Knight on her left, the Winter Soldier on her right.

“I win,” she panted.

But, instead of holding their arms up to surrender, the Knight and Bucky looked at her, then at each other. She would have moved if she was expecting them to conspire.

Bucky was first to charge, but his metal hand blocked her incoming bullets at almost every direction she fired. The Knight took it as a chance to grab her wrist, hold it up in the air before she could fire. Then the Commander elbowed her way out of his grip. He squeezed on her hand, painfully so until she lost her hold on the gun, then the Knight threw it out of the way.

With just one gun left, she aimed it at the Knight, arms up to surrender.

Then Bucky grabbed her in a headlock and kneed her down until she could no longer stand. She grunted, but his fucking metal arm was like trying to move a cement wall off the ground. The Knight charged after her.

Then she used his brick-wall like body to hoist her legs up, pushing her feet against his armor so her boots eventually made their way up to the Knight’s visor. Locking her knees on his head, she head-butted Bucky until he released her from his grip. Her hands landed on the ground, then she flipped over to fling the Knight to the grass, landing on his head.

She won't last so long. Not without her guns. These men will beat her at combat into a bloody fucking pulp.

She dodged, rolled, and backed away before either of them could land a hit. She saw Bucky grab a sack with his one metal arm, then he flung it over to her, sending her flying until her back met a crate. “Fuck!”

“How’d that feel, kitten?!”

The Knight, his words angering him even more, charged after Bucky and pinned his arm down his throat, all the way until his back hit the pile of sacks. It burst beneath him and a cloud of dust started flying across the air.

Thankfully, Bucky had his mask on and the Knight had his visor.

The Knight continued to push down on his neck. Bucky choked, struggled for some air, then his leg came flying up until he kneed his stomach. He grabbed the Knight by the jaw, flipped them over until he was the one pinned to the wall, then threw his arm back.

The Knight barely dodged it, and his metal fist tore a hole through the sacks.

Fuck.

He kicked him off, then the two started throwing punches and kicks and everything they could at each other, Bucky barely being able to block almost every throw the Knight hit and the latter holding onto the last of his armor to endure his stronger punches.

Bucky grabbed him by the throat, but the Knight flipped over and kicked him in the face. Bucky’s body was thrown into the barrels and broke everything in its path.

He got up, cracking his neck, then stared the Knight down.

“You sure you're enhanced?” the Knight’s filtered voice growled.

“Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The Arkham Knight and the Winter Soldier charged after the other, dust parting as they epically ran, their arms thrown back.

Then they were both flying in the air as a barrel of gun powder exploded in between them.

Commander Y/N, smirking her face off as she stood at the highest point above the piles of crates, blew on the muzzle of an AK she found.

The Knight skidded across the ground, and Bucky spat a ball of dirt from his mouth. They crawled and hoisted themselves up with the crates.

She slid off to the floor, running before they could run up to her, then she threw her ammo-less gun to the grass and frantically searched for a place to hide.

Bucky. He ran to her front. The Commander stopped and swallowed. And when she turned around, the Knight was there, cracking his knuckles.

“This should be fun,” she said.

She threw her elbow at the Knight’s visor, lightly cracking it but not enough to have any sort of impact beneath, then Commander Y/N ducked just as Bucky threw his fist at her torso. She slid her leg at his knees, slightly toppling him over. Her back shot up, then she stepped onto a sack to give her the leverage she needed to fly up in the air, spin with her leg out and kick both their heads in one swift move.

Bucky, with his immense superhuman strength, grabbed her leg and flung her all the way to the sacks further dispersing the dust all around the air. She groaned as she hit the floor, rolled over before the Knight could land a kick, then her leg flew to his visor once again, gaining another crack. She felt Bucky come up behind her, so she ducked, grabbed the Knight by his back, then used him as a shield against the metal arm coming right for his chest.

Both the Knight and the Commander flew across the floor.

Before she could stand, throwing the Knight off her body, she saw her pistols on the ground not far from her.

“That fucking arm,” the Knight growled. He stood up, his fist going after Bucky’s head, only to be stopped stiff cold by his hand. The Knight groaned, arm shaking at his reluctance to pull away. Bucky kept holding his fist and eyed the Knight down, now being able to look at him in the eye with the visor’s cover faltering.

The Commander grabbed both their heads, slammed them against each other, then unlatched their fists on each other before either of them could move.

On and on, they waltzed. The Commander could only dodge and duck under Bucky’s arm knowing she couldn’t in any way match his strength, and in doing so, maneuvered those punches so they’d land on the Knight instead. In turn, she did the same to the Knight’s punches at Bucky. The Knight kept at her, trying to get hold of her, and managing to grab her into a headlock once or twice and pinning her to the ground.

Bucky grabbed the Knight by the neck, held him up in the air, then threw his whole body right at the Commander, who locked her legs around the Knight’s neck trying to dismantle his visor. The Knight purposely fell to the ground, further injuring Y/N, then in a swift move, she stood up, grabbed her guns from her holsters, and aimed at them both.

The Knight stood on his knees.

And Bucky on his feet, ready to swing his arm at the first one who moves. They paused.

For seconds, none of them moved.

The Commander smiled.

They heard cheers from the men outside the field, chanting their names like they would to an athlete in a game.

The Commander lowered her guns, wiped the sweat off her forehead and smugly spun the firearms around her fingers.

“Next time,” the Knight stood on his feet, then walked over to Y/N. “No more guns.”

“I do just fine without them.”

“Keep telling that to yourself, kitten-“

The Knight stepped in between her and Bucky. “She is your commander. Stop calling her that.”

“I call her whatever she wants me to call her.”

“You want another hit to the gut, jackass?”

“You can try-“

“I can shoot both of you in the head right now if you don’t stop.” The Commander held out both her guns again.

The two men kept their silence, backed away, then walked back out of the field with their heads down without failing to give each other that side glare.

The Knight went over to walk beside the Commander.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t even go there, you ass,” she snarled.

“He’s overstepping his fucking boundaries.”

She faked a laugh. “That’s the Winter Soldier. He’s just like me. He’s just like Deathstroke. And you have no idea just how much he’s exactly like you. And he has tons of experience over any of us in this fucking country. So if you want your militia to have better chances at actually taking over an entire goddamn city, I suggest you suck up your childish jealousy and get over it.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Shut up. We slept together. So what?”

“You talking about me or the hundred-year-old man?”

“Both,” the Commander glared at him, then turned over to walk by Bucky’s side. The Knight looked like he wanted to strangle everything, even a damn puppy.

“Alright,” she said to her men. “Who wants to go next?”

-----

Booze. She found a stash in the Knight’s room days ago and had brought over few into her quarters. Once or twice she sneaks a sip, especially on days like these. She laid on the foot of her bed, leaning against the mattress, and Bucky was right by her side with his own bottle stuck to his mouth like a baby’s pacifier.

“Do super soldiers even get drunk?” the Commander asked.

“The Hydra serum was a rip-off so it doesn’t give me the full effects. I get drunk. But only after four or five times any human person can possibly take,” he laughed. “But until now I barely remember anything other than my name anyway so everyday feels like I’m having a fucking hangover.”

“Being brainwashed must suck.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She took a swig from her bottle, and her mind started to create that familiar buzzing fog that took off the pain in her joints greater than any painkiller she could take.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she touched the tip of her bottle onto Bucky’s nose. “I was starting to get bored.”

“And stressed out. I remember how much you asked me to-“

The Commander bit on his ear, and Bucky laughed before pecking her lips.

“You drunk now?”

“Well,” he looked at the clock. “We’ve been at this for five hours now. So yeah, I think I am-HIC.”

Y/N grabbed his hair, pulled him to her side and started heavily making out with his booze-scented lips. He held her neck, her shoulders, then he trailed down her hips and squeezed as lightly as he could with his steel fingers pushing into her skin. She moaned, and now that she was out of her suit and in her bed clothes, Bucky teased under her waistband.

“Mmm,” she moaned against his lips. “Please-“

“Shh…”

The metal arm. The one thing she still dreamed about every night she could the past year. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when Bucky reached under her panties, cupped her pussy like it was so delicately breakable, and started hovering the steel over her clit and folds. “Fuck…”

“Fucking miss this, kitten?”

“Yes…” she grabbed the mattress behind her, grinded onto the steel like it was a vibrator and felt the ripples into her core. Bucky, eyes red and obviously drunk, kissed her neck and collarbone and shifted so he was sitting in front of her. Y/N spread her legs wide and bit off a scream when Bucky teased her hole.

He started removing her shorts, taking her panties along with it. With the cold air fanning out her cunt, she got even wetter when Bucky leaned in raised her shirt to kiss all over her chest, then crouched over on the ground to kiss down her stomach and pelvis.

Bucky kept his metal hand on her wetness, lathering them all over, then his lips kissed down to her clit. He encircled his mouth around it, gently sucking as his hardened tongue flicked all over it. She screamed out his name, then Bucky inserted two fingers inside her. “Fuck!”

He kept going, mouth on her clit, fingers inside her pussy. The sweet, warm metal contrasting greatly against her flesh. She saw the same stars she always did every time she remembered how Bucky Barnes had given her the best cunninglingus in all of history. She shielded her mouth with her arm, biting into her skin.

BAM!

The door. Only one knock served as a warning, then a strong hand pried it open despite the lock. Bucky shot up and Y/N shielded her bottom with her arms.

The Arkham Knight, in nothing else but a red hoodie and jeans, leaned against the doorway with his own bottle of booze in hand. He didn’t flinch nor look even the slightest bit bothered at the sight before him, and instead rolled his eyes as the two scrambled to cover. He drank from his bottle.

“What the fuck!?”

“You took my booze.”

“Get out.”

“Give me my booze back.”

“Bucky drank it all up.”

Bucky leaned against the bed beside Y/N and snarled at the Knight, who glared back. Y/N pulled her shorts back up. “Don’t have to do that, kitten.”

“Stop fucking calling her kitten.”

“You wanna know why I call her that, asshole?”

“Enlighten me,” the Knight growled.

“’Cuz of the way she just mewls when I use this hand right here-“

“Trust me, I know what she fucking sounds like.”

“You did it with her once, jackass. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Just as I said,” Y/N groaned, pinching between her eyes. “I have an entire armory’s worth of guns stashed in that closet right there and I’m not fucking afraid to use them on either of you morons.”

They both scoffed.

The Knight looked just as drunk as the both of them. And despite Y/N telling him to go out, the Knight walked in, shut the door behind him, then made his way to her bed like he owned the place. He sat down and finished up his bottle, placing it on the ground, then collapsed on the mattress.

Y/N, incredibly horny and her head boiling beyond reason, turned her head over to Bucky.

“I really wanna fuck but this guy’s like a fucking boulder.”

“We can continue. Right here. Fuck that guy.”

“I can fucking hear you,” the Knight groaned, hand over his eyes.

“GOOD!” Bucky called out. “Come on…”

He started kissing Y/N’s neck, but she pushed him away. She’s seen the Knight like this a few times. And only her. Not many got to see his face at all. And when he was like this, hoodie over his head smelling like stale rainwater, she knew something went on. Y/N stood up, ruffling Bucky’s hair as he leaned against the mattress with his eyes closed, then walked over to stand in front of the Knight.

He took his arm off his head, eyed her with his eyes tightly squinted like she was too bright a light in the midst of complete darkness, then propped himself up his elbows. The Commander crossed her arms and took him in.

So hot…

The Knight, slowly, and with his head looking like it was about to topple away from his body, leaned over to Y/N and placed his arms over his knees so he could duck down. Y/N, without thinking much, took hold of his head and craned it up.

His eyes weren’t blank, but they weren’t so expressive either. She couldn’t tell what it was he was thinking, or feeling. But his skin felt burning hot under her touch. She took a step forward, still holding his head.

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t like kissing Bucky. It never had been. He was rougher, so eager to take her and all of her for himself with the movements of his tongue. Bucky was softer and kinder, but all the more wanting.

And in so many ways, they were different, yet eerily the same. They were both, in the worst way possible, taken away from any sort of their humanity, twisted, hurt, bent, until they were no longer in that sane, human demeanor with so much antagonism to show for the world. Nothing but anger. Borderline villains. Brooding bad boys. Dark hair. Blue eyes.

Okay. Maybe she did have a type.

She breathed in, heavy deep breaths, then started to deepen the kiss into something so much more longing. The Knight had his hands on her waist, pulling her to the bed. And on her knees, she went with him, never leaving his lips. The Knight started to lean back, wanting to pull her with him.

But she broke the kiss and gasped as Bucky grabbed her from behind, metal arm around her torso. He kissed her neck, biting, sucking. Y/N leaned against his shoulder and grabbed onto his hair, pulling him to her lips.

And if she weren’t wrong, she swore she felt the Knight growl beneath his breath. He ended up taking his shirt off. They were probably eyeing each other down for all she cared. She kissed Bucky, moaning too hard when his good hand snaked up her shirt, pulling it up. She happily obliged.

When her shirt left her skin, and without a bra in sight, the Knight swooped in and took her lips in his before Bucky could do anything. Y/N started to inch forward, moving the Knight with her, then Bucky took his shirt off and moved over to the bed with them, on his knees, pressing his chest against Y/N’s back just as the Knight as pushing his chest against Y/N’s front.

Holy fuck.

The two hottest men in the fucking universe. And she was sandwiched between them.

Hooooly fuck.

She threw her head back, breathing, moaning inaudible cries. Bucky started for her shoulder licking all the way up her neck, and the Knight pulled on her waist to have at it with her chest, her tits, her nipples sticking out at the burning touches happening all around her. She turned her head back, kissed Bucky while moaning when the Knight slightly bit on her nipples.

She pulled away, grabbed the Knight so she could kiss him on the lips, then Bucky started reaching over her cunt with his metal hand, making her jolt and bite onto the Knight’s lip at the sting of the steel rubbing over her clit like a goddamn vibrator. He kissed her neck, and the Knight bit on her ear. She was on fire. She never felt so alive. Everything was hot. Sweaty. Deep, heavy breaths filing the otherwise silent air.

She pulled away from both of them. She was in control. She could tell with the look on their eyes glaring at the other and worshipping her, determined to make her feel better than the other one ever could. Y/N traced her finger on Bucky’s cheek. “Eat me out, Buck.”

“My pleasure.”

“And you,” she pulled on the Knight’s chest, smirking as he went with it. “I want your cock.”

The Knight grabbed the back of her neck, kissed her so hard she would have fallen over, but she pulled away so she could lie down, Bucky already kneeling in front of her, breath ghosting over her thighs. The Knight pulled down his pants, pulled out his incredible hard on, then positioned himself right beside Y/N’s head.

Bucky lapped at her achingly wet cunt, the tip of his firm tongue drawing hard circles around her clit and letting his drool add up to her wetness. His metal arm, she could feel resting on her stomach. Y/N looked up at the Knight, looking so desirably at her she could feel her skin burn. Her hand wrapped around his cock, pumping ever so slowly and letting her fingers brush against the tip.

Her other hand was on Bucky’s hair, pulling, then the metal arm now snaked down between her legs and she could feel the cold metal deliciously tickle at the throbbing wetness. She moaned, and to conceal them, she hallowed her mouth out and started sucking on the Knight’s dick. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She was the only one fully naked. And yet, she felt so much power, surging through her veins at every stroke of Bucky’s fingers curl up inside her, at every suck on her clit, and at the Knight’s cock lodged in her throat, with half of it being held with her shivering palms. She pulled away to scream when Bucky switched over to let his tongue swirl inside her and his metal fingers rubbing her clit, while her hand still pumping the Knight’s cock. The latter ran a hand through her hair, his soft, human hand so hot against her flesh, and she kept his eyes on him as she moaned and filled her mouth up with his cock.

Faster. Faster. She was about to cum. So hard. She closed her eyes shut and made sure the Knight’s cock was still in her throat as the overpowering gushes of a pleasurable waterfall rained down every hot inch of her flesh. Over and over, like the incoming waves of the ocean continuously flowing. Her moans were concealed, but both men kept their eyes on her as she shook hard and gripped the sheets like her life depended on it.

The Knight didn’t even cum yet. She looked up at him, then at Bucky. She was far from being tired. It only made her want more. Fuck, why hasn’t she done this sooner.

Bucky reached over to kiss her, and she sat up, arms around his neck. He pulled her up until she was leaning into him, on her knees, then he unzipped his pants to let his cock spring free.

Then the Knight was against her back, hands on her ass. She started arching her back so much that her ass felt the Knight’s dick rubbing all across her skin while her tits were rubbing so nicely against Bucky’s chest.

She got on her hands and knees, the Knight pumping his cock with her slick while Bucky pulled her hair out of the way so she was facing directly at his cock. The Knight entered inside her first, the long, painfully delicious drag of his cock drawing the sweetest moans out her lips. Bucky leaned in and kissed her, hard, feeling her moans out with the violent swirling of her tongue. She grabbed onto the sheets, feeling her wetness drip down her thighs. And after a few good thrusts, letting her adjust to his size, Bucky pulled away to replace his lips with his twitching cock.

In. Out. In. Out. In either opening. In a sweet, sultry rhythm. Bucky licked his lips and thrusted into her mouth just as the Knight held onto her hips so harshly she knew she was about to bruise when the night ends. His hips snapped into her ass, in a set momentum that only he had the stamina to maintain (other than a super soldier, of course). It felt so good to be so filled up in either ends. With every pull from the Knight, her mouth dragged along Bucky’s cock with it, drawing moans and hisses from the both of them. This was all too overwhelming. The sight of them both. The water seeping through her eyes. How his fucking magical cock did wonders inside her in so many ways she’s never felt before. It was all so… so…

“Fuck!” she screamed, and already, she came. And unlike last time it came to her like one, giant blow to her body that almost whipped her out of her physicality. Everything went white, and all the clouded thoughts in whatever part of her mind they were hiding, it was all washed away for the instant. Every nerve ending made her shiver, and she stiffed. And the boys didn’t seem to notice, as they kept thrusting inside her still.

Y/N held her hand out, stopping them both. The Knight stopped thrusting and Bucky pulled his cock from her mouth. “Fuck, kitten, did you cum already?”

She fell face down onto the sheets, trying to remember her name.

“See,” the Knight said. “I did that.”

“Fuck you, no you didn’t.”

“Am I right, kitten?” the Knight stressed.

“Only ‘cuz I warmed her up, you ass.”

“You two,” she panted. “Shut up. I want you both inside me.”

“Fuck…” Bucky said.

“Holy shit,” the Knight breathed.

Y/N threw herself onto the mattress, on her side. Bucky laid facing her front and wasted no time to have her lips all to himself. The Knight crept up behind her and started sucking onto her neck. Y/N pulled away from Bucky, letting him bite onto her collarbone, then kissed the Knight with every last ounce of strength she had.

She held his jaw, biting his lip, then pulled away so she could look deeply into his eyes.

Bucky inserted his cock into her pussy, and she hissed at that while the Knight kissed her neck.

Then the Knight, his cock wet from her own juices, ever so slowly slipped into her asshole.

The screams she tried so hard to conceal, and failed to do so. Her leg hooked around Bucky, while her arm was around the Knight’s head. He gained his pace, at her pussy that had adjusted yet still fit him inside her so tightly that Bucky groaned with his lips on hers. The Knight, taking his sweet time at the new, foreign feeling of her ass, both for him and her, slowly started to thrust.

The two cocks, moving inside her in amazingly complimenting rhythms, she took turns in kissing either of them and moved her hips to match their movements. She could feel their cocks dragging against each other through the thin wall between them, at the spot that was so overly stimulated, at the feeling of being so filled up, she couldn’t possibly think of anything there was. She could only feel. The fullness. The overwhelming high that seemed to go on and on.

They must have been awfully hard and so at the edge by then, that it no longer took them as long to cum. Bucky came first, filling her up with so much of his cum that she could just feel it drip down along with her own juices. Then when he kept going, she felt the coil. The fast-burning whicker of a bomb already blown out so many times. The Knight came next, her ass practically leaking with his cum even with him still inside her, and for the third time that night, she came.

And fuck, just as she did, everything went white.

She passed out. For a good five minutes, she laid on her bed, panting without another word. The Knight was just as tired as she was, but with Bucky being a super soldier and all, he didn’t seem too bothered.

When she came back to her senses she sent both men out of her room before any of the militia army’s hundreds of men woke up before them.

-----

The Commander never felt so high up in the clouds and so down beneath the cold hard ground at the same time. Other than the horrible hangover that sent her mind practically elsewhere than the barracks, she wanted to hide at all the thoughts surging through her mind at the memories from the night that she somehow remembered almost every detail as if she weren’t drunk at all. If not, the hangover worsened and her face bubbled up into a deeply flushed red.

It was probably going to be the one thing she’ll think of the most the next time she needs something to get off too. But with the fucking Winter Soldier and the fucking Arkham Knight?

The Winter Soldier. And the Arkham Knight.

Well, she was one hell of a woman for having both of them, that was for sure.

Okay. So she didn’t have a single speck of regret.

But it didn’t make the hangover any better.

The Knight was with her at the meeting room, and the whole time Slade talked, neither of them seemed to listen. The Knight, even when he took this militia as seriously as his own life, when it occupied nothing else throughout his whole day and not another thought could overpower, had drunkenly engaged in a threesome last night and was now too stupidly ashamed and hungover to properly think.

“You two. Get some coffee. I’ll be out.” Deathstroke said as he left the room.

The Commander buried her face into her arms and the Knight took off his visor so he could rub his face with his palms.

Her head was burning, and for so long none of them talked nor moved a muscle. The Commander was the first to get up from her chair. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Your boyfriend wasn’t in his quarters this morning.”

She glared at the Knight, then went out the meeting room. Just as she did, Beckett opened the door and caught her just about to leave.

“Commander-“

“Where’s Bucky? The Winter Soldier? I want to talk to him.”

“That’s uh. That’s the thing, Commander.” Beckett licked his lips. “He got a call this morning and had to leave. Said he’ll only be taking forty thousand dollars for his five days here.”

“FORTY FUCKING WHAT-“ the Knight stammered. And the Commander glared back at him for making her headache even worse. She turned to Beckett. “When is he coming back?”

“He’s uh… He isn’t.”

The Commander shot up.

“He just… left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he leave a letter? Or a call? Anything?”

“No, sir. He just told me to tell you and the Knight. Deathstroke as well.”

Of course. Exactly like last time.

Bucky disappeared without so much as a call. This is all for fun, he once told her. A pastime. Release. Don’t think too much about it.

She knew he was a busy man with his own set of friends and enemies to work with.

But dammit, he could have at least called.

“Thank you, sergeant.”

Beckett left them, and the Commander was stuck standing near the door with her eyes locked onto the empty wall.

The Knight, unknown to her, watched her the whole time. Not a smirk. Not a smug little grin to go with it. He was as silent as her.

Nights after, the Commander laid on her bed, alone as she had been the past few days. She got under her covers and tried what she could to close her eyes and get the sleep she’s been needing for so long. But nothing.

Three knocks on her door.

She opened her eyes, then sat up against the headboard. “It’s unlocked.”

The Knight came in, with just a shirt and jeans on. He leaned against the doorway and the Commander rolled her eyes at him. “You come here to gloat?”

“About what?”

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“What do I have to gloat about?”

“Shut up, Knight.”

She looked away, arms in front of her, but the Knight kept looking at her and coughed. “May I come in?”

Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to argue, and just nodded her head. He closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of her bed.

“You seem to be attached to him.”

“I was fond of him,” she chuckled. “Fond enough to believe something could possibly happen.”

“Really?”

“He’s a good guy. You don’t have to hate him.”

“I do. He’s practically me with chin-length hair and a metal arm.”

She laughed and laid her head against the wall. “He is.”

The Knight kicked his shoes off and laid on the bed next to her. He chose to stare at the same things she was staring. She noticed. Probably to get a glimpse of what went on in her head.

“I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you're thinking.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of thinking of that.”

“Good,” she sighed.

She wasn’t exactly heartbroken. At least, she didn’t think so. She always thought that the moment she was so hurt to the point of that organ tear into pieces, she’ll know it. This. This was practically an equivalent to a teenage crush, except it’s with a really hot guy she slept with a few times, who’s incredibly handsome, has a fucking metal arm, a super soldier. Fuck, he’s dreamy.

But love? Nah. She’d know. She wasn’t in love. Not with a super soldier. Not with a robotic limb. Which meant she wasn’t heartbroken.

And that day will come. Sooner or later. Probably with someone more human, someone she can imagine eating at a small diner with. She turned her head over to the Knight.

“What are you doing here?”

He bit his lips, head against the wall like hers, then smirked.

“I’m here so you wouldn’t drink yourself to sleep and forget you’re here on a job.”

She nudged his shoulder and rolled her eyes, and the Knight grunted a very faint, yet audible laugh. He caught her eyes.

She smiled at him ever so lightly, and even when he didn’t exactly smile back, she thought he was beautiful.

The Knight leaned in, kissed her so softly that it was far too different from any other kiss she’s shared with him. His scent. The one she’d long noticed and wanted to have a closer glimpse at. She pulled herself closer to him.

Laughing as the Knight moved her over on her back, she forgot about everything else there was.

----

and. well. You know what happens next ;) Also I’d like to give credit to the the thirsty hoes in the taglist below who helped me with this fic (most especially @offendedfishnoises, @idkmanicantenglish and @knightfall05x) ((knightfall suggested the intoxication part which was a huge help))

everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11 flowersgirl02 

[bluecloudious]

Kinda angst I guess (but it has Zanaz so take that with a grain of salt)

Trying out writing a story this time.

I mean, yeah, I wrote for the comics, but not long dialog.

So yea, as per both the funni boys mature content warning. (There's no canoodling, there is talk of it tho.)

Also there's quite a bit of text (8 pages worth on Word)

So ye:

“Get up, I have some juicy gossip for you.”

...What?

I open my eyes and the world around me is blinding. It’s so bright that it takes a second to adjust to it. There’s nothing around me other than vast white and empty space.

This definitely isn’t Nevada anymore. (Unless Hank managed to ruin everything even further somehow.)

“Get up now, I know you heard me.”

I get up and look around. Who the hell is talking? There’s literally nothing but white for miles.

“I’m in your head, pretty boy.”

Uh, that…

“I’m holding my eyes closed, don’t worry. I regret ever having them open in here, in fact.”

Welp, that answers that. Now for the other question.

“Who I am is not important. What info I have, may be of interest, though.”

Alright?

“There’s a deal attached to this knowledge, Zanaz. Hear me out before you start fidgeting.”

I’ll sure try.

“You know Kits, right?”

No duh, he’s my best friend.

“Excellent. He’s going to die soon.”

…

What?! Wha, when, how, uh--

“Calm down, jitterbug. There’s nothing you can do to stop his fate, so don’t try. If he doesn’t die one way, another thing will go wrong. Understand?”

I-- NO! What the fuck?! Are you gonna kill him?!

“No, not me. I’m just sharing the news.”

Yeah, right, sure. Fucking… When then?

“Soon.”

How soon? In a month, week or a few days?

“Hm… A month then, give or take.”

...Fuck… How?

“Depends on what leads up to it.”

So, there are a lot of different ways it can happen, right?

“Indeed there are.”

...Do I die with him?

“No.”

NO?! In none of the different variations, I don’t die by his side?

“Oh, you can be by his side, of course. But death isn’t after you.”

What if I try to block a bullet, but it goes through both of us.

“Oddly specific. You’ll still survive.”

What if I block it with my head?!

“Brain damage, possible vegetable state. Will still survive though.”

What if Hank slices us with one of his multiple katanas?!

“People have lived through being sliced in half before.”

WHAT.

“This world has zombie clowns with god like powers and the AAHW is lead by a man consisting of black fire.”

...Ugh, fair enough. So… Wait those are all possible deaths for him?

“If you do everything in your power for it to happen, then yes.”

I… I can kill him before his time?

“Of course! You have free will, don’t you? It’s more of a question if you want to.”

Of course I fucking don’t! I care about him!

“I saw. You daydream about him an uncomfortable amount.”

He’s the main person I’m around, give me a break!

“Have you ever considered not being horny?”

Until I’m castrated, there’ll be nothing of the sorts.

“You’re not even fertile! None of the clones are!”

You think I’m tryna get anyone pregnant at this sausage fest? Besides, that has not stopped me before.

“I refuse to believe that any of those scenes I saw play out in your head happened for real.”

You’d be surprised then.

“WHICH?!?”

Those are for me to treasure.

“...You’re pulling my leg.”

Believe what you want.

“Augh, never mind, TMI. Back onto the topic at hand.”

Oh, yeah, right. Kit… Dying…

Could you for real not give me a date?

“If it depends on the circumstances beforehand, then there’s no possible way to tell which one belongs to this timeline.”

And that means…?

“I don’t know how this Kits dies.”

Can I at least warn him?

“Well, there’s where the other side of the deal comes in. If you tell him, then the effect kicks in immediately.”

What effect? Death?

“Precisely.”

...Ah. Wait, so if I don’t tell him, he dies in a month but if I do, he dies immediately? Of what?

“Stroke, heart attack or brain aneurysm. Chosen at random. Oh, also sneak assassination. That’s also a valid option.”

...This feels set up.

“Mh?”

This feels like either you or whoever sent you here set this up so I’d suffer. You enjoy the pain of others, don’t you?

“I’m only the messen--”

Yeah, yeah, Messenger Bullshit. Then whoever decided this is probably a reality tv producer, who is jacking off to someone pushing in the soft part of a baby’s skull as we speak. You encourage such behaviour by working with them, ya know.

“...Do you think you sound smart?”

I know for a fact I’m not, so no. I’m pretty sure I’m on the money with this one though.

“If I wasn’t here then Kits’ death would come as a surprise to you though!”

I’d prefer that, actually! Now I have to deal with knowing that he… He… Won’t be here anymore soon.

“Well, knowing how overwhelmingly perverted you are, wouldn’t you wanna grab this opportunity?”

...What?

“Shoot your shot, ask him out. Not like you could do it with a corpse… …Right…?”

I may be horny, but I’m not messed up.

“Had to make sure.”

Ugh, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?

“Which instance are you referring to?”

Kit would never date me.

“And why exactly do you think that?”

He has standards?

“You’re a decently handsome fellow. You also get along with him just fine.”

That… That’s not a determinant of shit like that. There’s way better out there for him.

“He won’t meet em then. Only a month to live, remember?”

I… It’s not worth it.

“What isn’t?”

I know he’ll say no, there’s no point in trying.

“How do you know for sure until you actually ask?”

Cause it’s obvious! He’s actually got a brain in his noggin and he knows me way too well! He’d be fucking disgusted, man! We’re just friends and that’s that.

“Do you not want to then?”

...Why do you assume I do? How do you know that those aren’t just blissful fantasies like the rest of them?

“He’s the only one that you dream of in a non-perverted way. I see no other person in this graphic landscape that you want to hold hands with. (Also, I am closing my eyes again now, Jebus Christoff.)”

...Ffffuck.

“Well, did hit the nail on the head?”

Y-You’re stupid and gay!

“I’m rubber, you’re glue.”

That doesn’t affect me, I’m already openly gay and stupid!

“I guess we’re both such then.”

Dammit.

“So, you gonna give him a month to remember or not?”

…Eh?

“Come on, how much romance could a member of the A.A.H.W. really experience throughout their lifetime? If you’d make this month worth his and your own time, perhaps it would be less painful to see him go? At least he died happy?”

THAT WOULD BE EXTRA PAINFUL FOR ME, THOUGH!

“Oop, Zanaz selfish, you heard it here first, folks.”

That’s not what I meant. I’d already be upset over losing my best friend, imagine how fucking devastating losing a sweetheart would be.

“…I dunno, still sounds selfish to me. Does his happiness not mean anything to you?”

Who says he’d be happy with me?

“I know you want to make him happy, at least. You dream about his smile.”

STOP FUCKING LOOKING THOUGH MY THOUGHTS!!

“I’m not looking anymore, I just memorized the ones I already saw. (I wish I couldn’t.)”

I- You- Fucking-- UggHHH! It’s not worth it!

“What exactly do you imagine will happen if you tell him how you feel, huh? World combusts?”

I already told you, he already knows way too much about me! He’d be fucking grossed out and we’ll… We’ll stop being friends.

He’d quicken his pace whenever we’d have to pass each other in one of the halls. He’d desperately keep his glance away from me. He’d… I’d stop being the main person he talks and comes to company for a-and I can’t fucking have that, man!

I-I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He means too much to me.

“…I had no idea you were this insecure.”

FUCK OFF! It’s a bitter reality that I’ve come to accept!

“You haven’t even given it a shot!”

You don’t need to get crushed by a piano to know you’d die on impact!

“Those two things don’t correlate even remotely!”

It’s a metaphor!

“I know that, I’m saying that Kits has a thing for you too!”

…He what?

“He has major league crush on you! The things you say when play-flirting excite him! He’s gotten off to the thought of you touching him up! The works! (Why did I word it like that?)”

Whuh-- How the fuck do you know this??

“While you were monologuing, I visited his subconscious and confirmed it for myself.”

You can do that??

“You don’t even know my name.”

...Fair nuff. So, wait, he’s actually gotten off thinking about me?

“I don’t even need to open my eyes to already know you’re imagining it. Short answer, yes. He’s into you, Zanaz.”

Augh, I dunno what to do with this info. It’s kinda... Overwhelming in a way.

Actually, wait, how do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?

“I’m an incorporeal voice in your head that’s having a back and forth with you in a white void.”

Yeah, and?

“…I’m supernatural?”

Yeah, and?

“Come on! I just know, okay?!”

Sounds fake, not gonna lie.

“The part where I knew that Kits was gonna die was convincing, but the moment I mention that he might have a thing for you, you question the validity of my claims thus far??”

One sounds way more far-fetched than the other, you gotta admit.

“NO IT DOESN’T?!?!”

For you maybe! I’ve known him since I’ve been out the cloning tube! We became agents together! I think I’d know what kinda stuff is off the table for him, buddy.

“Well, not only are you wrong, you’re in denial.”

I am not!

“Then try it! Just attempt asking him out! In the very least, you’ll remain friends after. I promise you. Cross my heart and all that jazz.”

…

…You’re absolutely positive? You are also the person that told me he’d die in a month’s time.

“A hundred percent positive. I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You have a life?

“Unfortunately. So, you’ll do it?”

Why’re you so adamant about me fucking Kits?

“Affgdgfdgfg, it’s not about you fucking him, it’s you making his last living month worthwhile!”

Okay, so, why do you want me to do that?

“…Do you not??”

I mean, I guess that sounds worth my time. But you didn’t answer my question.

“Sorry for assuming that you want the person you’re madly in love with to be happy, I guess??”

Apology accepted. Now, how do I get outta here?

“Ugh, just wake up.”

Whu--

And I’m sitting up in my own mat, back at the facility. The clock shows that it’s early morning.

What the fuck do I make of what I just saw? Or heard, for that matter? It clearly wasn’t a normal dream, I never remember those. Plus the topic tends to blur together usually.

I gotta tell-- Wait, I can’t do that, fuck.

…

It’s way to early for shit like this, man!!

Augh…

[thatgoblin]

Small Town Affairs

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She's trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren't something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t often that people moved to Tin Springs, population 803. We barely had enough people to need a high school and a junior high school let alone more than a general store and gas station. There wasn’t even a Walmart for nearly 20 miles. You had to make a special trip to the larger town of Conway that had fast food restaurants and strip malls while the closest we had was a Dollar General and a ‘home style’ restaurant that was closed after 9. We did have a few bars and a strip joint, but those were just outside of town. Far enough that most people didn’t count them as being a part of town. It was very much a dying breed of Mayberry towns that used to thrive till people moved for better jobs and schools or to just get out of that small town headspace.

So when what looked like a whole fleet of moving trucks drove down the main road, everyone was talking. Turns out there was some guy with the last name Rogers that owned land that belonged to his pack that he was moving his new pack onto. The family had basically moved away or died off by the time I was 18. Most of the townspeople thought the houses on the land would stay empty till someone bought the land up for farming or to build new houses on. No one ever did and the moving trucks were telling us why it wouldn’t happen. Everyone and their dog would be gossiping and talking about who the new people were, where they came from, why they came back now, but I just ignored the whispers and gossip as I checked out folks at the general store.

“Hazel, would you be a dear and stock the shelves before you leave tonight?” The store owner, Peggy Carter, asked from her office. It sat just to the side of the register, making it easy to keep an eye on things. Her prim English accent was very much out of place in the small midwest town, but it wasn’t as crisp as it used to be when she first moved to Tin Springs.

“Sure. I’ve got my keys so I’ll lock up for you too,” I said, glancing back at her before the bell above the door rang. “Howdy,” I greeted the customers before going back to tidying my area. They were just a couple of women that were grabbing last minute items for dinner, which was the usual crowd so close to our closing time. I knew their faces, but couldn’t recall their names. I’d seen them around town, but I didn’t exactly interact with people outside of my job.

“Did you see the paper today? John Walker’s up for re-election again,” one woman said as they meandered towards the dairy section. While they sort of tried to stay quiet, the store was empty at that time of day and with it being so small that the voices carried easily.

“I saw that. He’s got my vote for sure,” the other woman said. “You know, he’s been such a good sheriff and I don’t think anyone’s running against him. It should be an easy win for him.”

“Hopefully. Things are just fine as they are now, why change them?” The first woman said. “Though, it is a bit odd that he’s with another Alpha and not an Omega.”

“I know, but Brock’s a good man. Both of them are. It’s just too bad things didn’t work out with them and that Omega girl.”

I should be used to it by now, hearing people talking about me and my exs. When you date the county sheriff and the only garage owner in town, things aren’t exactly secret. Even if they didn’t know your name or face, they knew your business.

“You know, John always said she was a good gal, but just had some problems. His mother and I play bridge at the church on Wednesday evenings and she told me that he was heartbroken over their split up. Him and Brock adored her, said they wanted to have kids too. I do hope she’s getting herself straightened out,” the second woman said.

I could handle the whispers and looks I’d get from the older Omegas in town, but this was a new low. They weren’t even trying to keep it quiet anymore.

“Just so ya’ll know, we’re closing soon, so if you’ve got some trash talking to do, do it outside where I don’t have to listen to it,” I called, earning small gasps from the women. They hurried to the front to check out, keeping their eyes down as I glared at them. If they were dumb enough to talk about me in front of me, I was not going to go easy on them. They didn’t say another word as they left, leaving me behind to glare at their backs.

“You should learn to ignore them. People will always talk,” Peggy said from the office.

“The least they could do was be discreet about it,” I mumbled. “Besides, it’s already been over a year and you’d think people would let it go and move on.”

“Well, with the new people moving in, you might get your wish,” she said. I could only hope.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly fast. Peggy left me in charge to stock the shelves after closing. We closed usually at about 8:00 PM, no one showed up after 7:45 PM on a regular day. So to hear the door jostle as someone tried to open at 8:10 PM was odd. Frowning, I put down the pasta to look over the aisle to see a man trying to peer in. He had dirty blond hair styled back into a faux hawk of sorts, and dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a tight black tee. There were a few cuts on his face, a bandaid over his nose, and what looked like hearing aids hooks around his ears, the man stood out like a sore thumb compared to the locals. Seeing me, he put on a big smile and waved.

My first instinct was to ignore him, but since he didn’t look familiar I figured he was one of the new people in town. They wouldn’t know the hours of any of the stores in town. I decided to at least let him know the store was closed. If anything happened I had a bat under my register and pepper spray on my keys in my pocket. Going to the front, I unlocked the door before opening it.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” I said as the muggy summer air came rushing in. “We close at 8.”

“Damn it,” the man hissed as he pulled out a cell phone. “Is there any other place to get groceries around here? My pack and I just moved to town and we don’t have any groceries. We’ve been working all day to get stuff into the house and didn’t realize the time.”

“Oh, uh not really, sorry,” I said. “Dollar General closes at the same time and you’d have to go to the next town over for Walmart and that’s 20 miles away.”

“What time do you guys open in the morning?” He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We open at 6:00 AM.” The way he looked when I told him was like witnessing a puppy being kicked. I could smell him, he was just an Omega. What harm could it do to let him in this once? Peggy had let a few people in here and there after hours, so what was one more? “Okay, so you can’t tell anyone or you’ll get me in trouble, but I can go ahead and let you in to shop. I’m just restocking shelves, so go ahead and get what you need.” Stepping aside, I let him in before locking the door behind him to keep anyone else out.

“Thank you so, so much. You’re a lifesaver, really,” he said as he grabbed a cart and proceeded to grab things off the shelf. I didn’t mind staying late, rent was going up and it was getting harder to pay, so a bit of extra time wouldn’t hurt. “I’m Clint by the way.”

“Hazel,” I replied as I went back to the shelves. Letting him fill his cart, I finished up my work before meeting him at the register. It was a lot of food, but then again how many moving trucks had showed up? “I really hope this isn’t just for you.”

“Naw, there’s 8 people in my pack. I’m hoping this will be good enough for at least dinner and breakfast, but there’s a few of us who can eat out a whole house,” Clint said with a chuckle as I scanned the items.

“Wow, that’s a lot. We don’t really have any packs at all around here. Maybe a handful, but it’s just three people at most,” I said.

“Oh yeah? We just moved here from New York. One of our Beta’s, Steve, used to live here. You might know him,” Clint said.

“Last name Rogers?” I asked, getting a nod. “Not personally. I know of the family and the land, but that’s about it,” I said with a shrug. “Alright, and total for today is $234.89.”

“Yup, sounds about right,” Clint said with a chuckle as he swiped a credit card. What did they do in New York that allowed them to buy that many groceries? Not to mention that was just for one night, I couldn’t imagine a full week’s worth. Maybe they should go to Walmart for groceries next time. “So is there anything fun to do around here?” He asked as I handed him the longest receipt I’d printed before.

“Eh. Depends on what you want to do. We have a restaurant that closes at 9:00 PM, a few bars around here, and a strip joint, but other than that there’s not much to be done unless you’re a fan of high school sports,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m going to have to give Steve a slap upside the head for bringing us to the most boring place in the world,” he sighed before looking at me wide eyed. “I mean, it’s just that it’s kinda slow compared to New York.”

“Don’t worry. I think it’s boring too, but like most of the folks that live here, it’s cheaper to stay than to move if you don’t have another job or family else where,” I said. “Sometimes the rodeo comes to the next town over and a lot of people go there.”

“Yeah, when he said this was a completely different place, I didn’t think he understood how all of us would find it so different,” Clint said as he started to load up the grocery cart.

“Here, let me help you take those out to your car. I’ll get the cart from you and you can head out,” I said, grabbing the keys to unlock the front door to let us out then relocked it.

“Thanks. You know, I guess small towns do have a lot of nice people willing to help out,” Clint said as he led the way to a black sports car.

“Sheesh, fancy,” I snorted as he popped the trunk.

“Yeah, it was a pain to drive it down the dirt driveway I have with my mate. I don’t want to part with her, but I also don’t want to ruin the undercarriage,” he said with a wince.

“That’s a bummer. There’s a car lot in town here, but I don’t know if they’d have anything your style,” I said, handing him a paper bag full of cereal.

“Howard, my mate, would shit his pants if I tried to go there,” Clint said with a chuckle. “He’s too posh to even think of buying anything pre-used. I’m pretty sure he’d have a heart attack.”

“Sounds like he’ll get comfortable real quick,” I said with a snort.

As we were finishing up putting the groceries in the car, there was a short honk and siren bwep before a sheriff’s car pulled into the spot next to Clint’s.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Clint frowned, unsure of what was happening, but I knew.

“Howdy friend!” A familiar voice called as a blond man with bright blue eyes and an irritating smile stepped from the patrol car. Dressed in his brown and khaki uniform, Sheriff John Walker approached us. “You must be part of the pack that just moved to town.”

“Uh, yeah. Just got in today,” Clint said, shifting his body again. “I’m Clint.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Sheriff Walker. Figured that since I saw you in town, I’d catch you real quick for an introduction,” the man said, holding out his hand for Clint to shake. Raising a brow, Clint shook the officer’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing the rest of my pack throughout the week,” Clint said before closing the trunk of his car.

“You’re on the Rogers property, yeah?” John asked, resting his hands on his hips.

“That’s the one,” Clint said with a nod.

“I think I went to school with one of the Rogers’ pack. Steve, I believe his name was. He was a grade above me. His family stayed in town a while before leaving. Didn’t think we’d see anyone come back to live on the property,” John said. I wanted to get away from this conversation as fast as possible. John hadn’t even addressed me, let alone acknowledge my existence. The last thing I wanted was for him to start shit with me in front of someone.

“Probably, I mean, he’ll be in town tomorrow to get all the paperwork fixed up with his mate,” Clint said. “But I should be going. We’ve been driving all day and everyone’s tired and hungry.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” John said with a nod, backing up to let Clint move. I kept quiet, trying to not look John in the eye as I moved the cart back to the sidewalk. “Have a nice evening, now,” he said, typing his broad brimmed hat to Clint.

“Thanks. See you around, Hazel,” Clint said to me with a tight smile and wave. I gave a short wave back before booking it back to the store.

Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, don’t follow me.

“Hazel, wait up,” John called as he jogged to catch up with me. I wanted to scream as I stopped at the front door to unlock it. “So, you’re talking to the new people now, huh?” He said as Clint pulled out and drove away.

“John, go away. It’s none of your business and this is not part of the agreement,” I hissed, getting the door open. Shoving the cart in front of me, I tried to shut the door in his face, but he’d stuck his boot in the way.

“Look, I’m just trying to keep an eye out for you, okay? Don’t get cozy with the new people. They might be interesting, but you never know what people are really like,” he said, pushing his way into the store.

“Ironic coming from you,” I snapped, glaring at him as I moved to the register. “I’m trying to close, leave.”

“Remember what I said,” John sighed. “Don’t trust those new people.”

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you and we both know it’s not far,” I snarled. “Now go away or I’ll short Brock this week.”

“Fine,” he said. “But just remember, I was the one that always looked after you. Even after everyone started those rumors about you, I stuck by you.”

“A lot of good it did me. Now go.”

John looked like he might say something else, but stopped himself. Instead, he shook his head before leaving the store. Quickly, I locked the door after him. Standing there, my hands shook as tears pricked my eyes. The asshole could always get under my skin. Just a damn look and I’d be nearly in tears. As much as I wanted to believe I was stronger now and could handle myself, that small interaction showed me that he still had a grip on my life.

Finished for the night, I headed home. There were no more encounters with anyone else thankfully, allowing me to relax for the night with a beer on my porch. My house wasn’t much, a one story two bedroom house that had a less than stellar paint job, but it was home. It was old, from the 20’s, but it was sturdy. I wasn’t there much but to eat, sleep, and shower anyways.

Sitting on the porch, one beer turned into two which turned into three. It was the fourth one that I finally felt like I could stop shaking completely. The last time I had seen John and talked to him was nearly a month ago. We’d been separated for almost a year and he was being his usual passive aggressive self just to push my boundaries. He’d come into the store and made a show of talking to me like I was a kid, letting everyone see he was the calm, collected Alpha that was trying to reach out with an olive branch to fix things between the unstable Omega who just needed some gentle handling to become a decent person.

I had nearly come unglued on him, but managed to keep my voice low and my eyes down. Peggy found me right after, sobbing out behind the store. No one, not even Peggy, knew what really happened between all three of us, but I wasn’t about to tell them and neither were John and Brock. We’d come to an agreement that they would leave me alone and not talk to me unless absolutely necessary and I’d stay quiet. As well as paying them off. It was nearly half of both my paychecks, but it was worth it if it meant they didn’t come into the store when I was there or tried to talk to me at all.

But John was starting to toe the line and push back. Brock kept his part of the deal, I was pretty sure he never really cared for me, but John was always obsessive. The deal was going to have to be revisited if John didn’t back off.

Done for the night, I tossed the bottles before heading to bed.

The last few days of the work week were about the same. Go to work, come home, go to work, come home. I saw Clint now and then who came in to grab a few things here and there, but that was it. He was nice and despite John wanting to tell me who I could and couldn’t see, it felt better to know that there was someone in town who didn’t know things about me without my permission.

While we weren’t best friends, we did send memes to each other when I was on break and he wasn’t busy. At one point he messaged me a picture of his shed full of cobwebs and wasp nests and asked if it was appropriate to burn it to the ground. I told him to be careful because there could be copperheads underneath or groundhogs. That led into me explaining what those were and learning that the man had lived 37 years thinking a groundhog was something made up by a city for a holiday and it was really just a beaver they were using.

It seemed that I would be teaching him, and probably his pack vicariously, what to look out for in their new homes. I still hadn’t met the rest of the pack, though I had seen one or two here and there around town.

Soon Friday rolled around. I woke up at about 4:30 AM. Friday would be busier than usual as it was a payday. I showered then dressed, sliding on jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I then made a pot of coffee before doing my makeup. Just enough to hide the bags under my eyes and a few marks on my neck that were visible above my shirt collar.

It was my regular dress for my job at the store, Peggy didn’t care too much so long as it wasn’t offensive. Which meant anything but plain clothing and no writing. After coffee, I fixed my hair so it didn’t frizz then grabbed my thermos of coffee. I locked up then headed to work.

The sun was peeking above the trees and clouds as I pulled into work around 5:15 AM. Peggy was already there when I walked in the back.

“Did you have any problems closing the other night? I forgot to ask,” She said as I stepped into the office to get my cash drawer for the day.

“It was fine. Had one of the new people stop in, Clint. The blond that comes by for snacks. He’d made it in just after we closed, but I went ahead and let him shop since they didn’t have anything at their houses,” I said, taking the drawer from the open safe.

“Houses? You mean they’re not all in one?” She asked, looking up from her book keeping.

“There’s not a big enough house for more than four people on their property. There’s like ten of them,” I said with a snort.

“Well I’m sure we’ll meet all of them at some point. We’re the only grocery store in town,” she said.

“Unless they need to buy in bulk. Clint nearly bought everything in the store,” I said, counting my drawer at the register.

“We can only hope. Next time you see them, let them know if they need more than a few things to get us a list and we’ll get them large amounts. We used to do that a lot when there were bigger packs in my hometown,” Peggy said. The woman was nearly 60 and had lived in England up until about 30 years ago, getting the general store from her uncle who had passed away. I was used to hearing the facts of ‘We used to do this in my hometown’ a lot.

“Will do.”

Finished with setting up, I unlocked the front door and turned on the rest of the lights at 6:00 AM. The usual rush of moms right after school starts as well as early rising elderly came in, making for the usual busy rush that Peggy would step in and help with at the second register. By the time 10:00 AM rolled around, things were tapering off. We’d have a lunch rush for those grabbing a quick something, then back to a nice slowness.

“I’m gonna take my break after this last person checks out,” I said to Peggy who nodded. I was starting to get hungry and I saw a bearclaw in the donut rack that had my name on it. A few cups of coffee could only hold me over for so long before I needed actual food.

Before I could clock out for a break though, two people walked into the otherwise empty store. They were part of the new pack, just the scent alone said that, and they were Alphas. Great.

“I got this if you want,” Peggy said softly as she caught the scent too. Peggy was a sweet Beta and she acted as a stand-in grandma for me, but I couldn’t just run at every Alpha that came in.

“I’m good,” I said, giving her a small wave and smile. It wasn’t long before the Alphas came to the register. One was taller, probably over 6’, with steely blue eyes and dark, earthy brown hair with a scruff on his face. He smelt of fresh rain and peaches with that Alpha musk. Dressed in an almost too tight tee with an extra sleeve and glove covering his left arm and hand, he looked out of place in the button up work shirts and plaid that was usually worn by the adult men around town.

The other was shorter, more tailored. His light brown hair had a bit of copper to it as it was swept back from his face as that held a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes stayed on the phone in his hand. He too was in a tee and jeans that were fitted tighter, making them look. . . Well almost foreign. A whiff of cedar and maybe smoke or tobacco swirled into the first Alpha’s scent. Both of them mingling and making something settle deep inside my belly.

Fuck.

“Is that all for you two?” I asked, holding back with every fiber of my being any scent or sign of them making me feel like a simple, needy Omega.

“That’ll be it,” the first Alpha said. It was standard groceries of meat, cheese, dried goods, condiments, basically anything to stock up a house after moving.

“Is your pack settling in okay? Clint comes by now and then,” I said, trying to make small talk. Usually I didn’t, but something about those two had me anxious. Not a bad anxious, but. . . I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, uh yeah. We’re getting there,” he said with a nod. “It’s different than what we’re used to.”

“What are ya’ll used to?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

“A lot more people and a lot less trees,” the second Alpha spoke up, his voice lilting into an accent I couldn’t place. “But it is lovely here. I quite like how peaceful it is without masses of people a hair’s breadth away.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “So are all of you from New York too?”

“A few of us, but not all,” the first Alpha said as he pulled out his wallet.

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t take you long to settle in. Today’s total is $87.56,” I said, tapping a few buttons on my keypad.

“Tell me, is there a nursery around? For plants that is,” the second Alpha asked, leaning onto the counter when I started to help pack up the groceries into the cart. “I am wanting to start a flower garden, but would like to see where the supplies are first.”

“A plant nursery? Um, there is one just west of the town. Just take the main road and it’s about ten minutes from town. It’s run by the Mennonites and they have a bunch of different plants to pick from. They’ve even got starter trees for fruits and some bushes for blackberries and the like,” I said.

“Thank you. I appreciate the information,” he said with a soft smile and a nod. I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You’re welcome, if any of your pack needs anything just ask around. We’re all pretty friendly here,” I said as I finished putting the bags in the cart.

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, moving over to the cart to hold out his hand to me. “I am Helmut. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Hazel. It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, taking his hand. It was warm and soft, different than the work roughened hands I was used to. Helmut rolled his eyes at the other, elbowing him.

“Hey,” he grumbled, shooting him a glare. “Oh, uh, I’m Bucky.” A quick wave and awkward smile was all I was given as he quickly moved to push the cart away.

“He’s house broken, I swear,” Helmut said with a wink. I couldn’t help the honest to God giggle that came out of me. “Have a good day, Hazel,” Helmut said, smiling as he shook his head at Bucky.

“You too,” I called after as they left. It didn’t even occur to me that I was staring after them till Peggy came up next to me.

“You could always ask for a photograph. It would last longer,” she said with hum.

“Oh shush,” I said, waving her off. “They were just, ya know, nice. Most Alphas around here are curt and so loud and demanding. It’s a nice change to see is all.”

“Uh huh. Even if you weren’t letting them get a scent of you, you were definitely giving them eyes. I’ve never seen you do that for anyone. Not even when you were with ‘Those-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.’ I think it’s cute and wonderful that you had that reaction,” Peggy said as she went to the other register so I could take a break. “Besides, when’s the last time you actually touched someone on purpose?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being nice to new people is all,” I said, locking my register computer after clocking out for a break. Quickly, I grabbed the bearclaw before leaving the dollar and change for Peggy. “It was just a handshake. Besides, you always tell me to work on my customer service skills,” I said as I walked to the back door.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” She called after me.

[davidmann95]

sooo... the snyder cut's out

I liked the Snyder Cut. This sucks.

Me thinking about this movie, apparently

Do I think it has revolutionized superhero cinema forever? Nah, if nothing else it mostly plays it too unexpectedly safe for that. But this was evidently always going to be his version of a straight take superhero teamup adventure after BvS, and as it turns out, he’s really good at that? There’s a better version of this that trims at least half an hour of pure bloat - and I don’t mean ‘inessential’ character beats, strictly redundant exposition - but by and large this is a terrific meat-and-potatoes superhero flick realized with the sweep and style Snyder brings to his work. There’s a ton of stuff I could nitpick, and its biggest sin is it loses momentum over time because Snyder clearly used literally every single thing he had filmed regardless of utility, but by and large this was a fun time. Assorted notes (where I get into spoiler territory) below:

* Why wasn’t the weird Motherbox opening credits sequence kept? They showed it off just a few weeks ago!

* This is very Morrison JLA in that only the junior members of the group get character arcs, and fairly bare-bones at that, but everyone gets their Big Iconic Stuff. Except oddly Batman, who shockingly gets short shift here while Superman in his minimal screentime is as much a sudden 180 “hey here’s just regular ‘ol Superman now” as what we saw in 2017.

* Flash’s opening setpiece was the best of the movie by miles, a jaw-dropping realization of that power and the necessary delicateness that comes with it that’s one of my favorite moments in any superhero media period. His big time travel moment was nothing to sneeze at either. They never explain where his powers come from though?

* Steppenwolf is actually pretty damn fun in here as a guy who’s in-universe a fake final boss who’s really a put-upon self-loathing failed lackey.

* (Darkseid meanwhile sucks and is nothing but that isn’t surprising.)

* This looks better all around, obviously the action and composition is gorgeous and even Flash and Cyborg’s dopey looks are considerably more tolerable, while Superman’s black suit helps cover a bunch of the noodly nonsense.

* Yes, this is better than Whedon’s version. Not exponentially so, at least for my tastes - Batman of all characters felt like he had a lot more going on in that - but I’m loathe to give it much credit, and I think a lot of relative strengths it had were purely due to it keeping leaner.

* I’m not clear at all why WB felt the need to damn near remake the thing when this was so very much Snyder playing nice, other than maybe no one could figure out how to wrangle down the runtime comprehensibly? I certainly can’t fathom how the assembly cut was reportedly declared ‘unwatchable’ by producers.

* No, the Martian Manhunter stuff makes no fucking sense whatsoever, but it’s worth it because his presence means that the last words in Zack Snyder’s Justice League are Martian Manhunter, which is incredible.

* At heart it’s no more a sequel to MOS or BVS than what Whedon did beyond the raw fact of progressing the plot: this isn’t a meditation on power or politics or duty or vengeance beyond the thinnest of notes with some of the side characters, it’s a bunch of cool superfolks putting aside their personal problems and learning to believe in themselves/each other to save the world from a big bad thing, even if it still operates in the broad thematic realm of “life snatched from death” prevalent in both versions.

* It’s consistently at its best when it’s Snyder getting to go buckwild with the powers, imagery, and pure vibes; the character work is fine and the actors all do well enough, but the point here is this is Snyder setting up Space Superhero Lord of the Rings with impossible beings operating on a grand scale.

* I kind of wish it had the manic unselfaware energy throughout of the opening Wonder Woman sequence where she saves the kids as in the theatrical cut, but the head terrorist says fuck, Wonder Woman’s clearly killing them all...and at the end she smiles and gives an earnest girl power line to one of the hostage kids right after disintegrating a fool in front of them. It would be a worse movie, but an even more entertaining one.

* The Batman/Joker scene is perfectly fine, and while it would have been better for this movie unto itself if the reshoots had been used to tighten some stuff up instead I don’t begrudge Snyder for going that extra mile to ensure folks absolutely fucking demand he get his sequel (I know he says that’s not why he did it; he is transparently lying). Affleck sells his f-bomb.

That’s pretty much that! I think the purpose of this movie as Snyder conceived it was to win over rubes like me without alienating the true believers to get the leeway to do JL 2&3 however the fuck he wanted. And god help me, especially with the worst possible avenues closed off to him I do want to see what those would be, all the absurd operatic bombast of BvS as applied to a big cosmic superhero epic functioning from what we’ve heard in the more straightforward mode of operation established here. The fandom force of will both joyful and horrific will be there in spades, so I guess it’s a question of what kind of numbers this does.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #115: Sakata Kintoki (Rider)

This time on “Fate and Phantasms”: We’re always trying to make the best build possible. Little do we know that we’re about to face our greatest challenge yet: building a goddamn motorcycle. Join us as we build: Sakata Kintoki (Rider)!

(As usual, his build breakdown is below the cut, or you can check out his character sheet over here!)

Next up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8WvSGNEV24

Race and Background

Yes, we’re still doing that bit from the first time. This means Kintoki’s still a Golden Dragonborn, gaining +2 Strength and +1 Charisma. This also gives you a fiery Breath Weapon once per short rest and Fire Resistance. That’s not very in character, but you’re gold, and that’s good enough!

As a motorcycle delinquent/Kamen Rider expy, you’re a Folk Hero, giving you proficiency with Animal Handling and Survival. You can literally talk to animals. Handling them shouldn’t be an issue.

Ability Scores

You’re pretty strong, which is probably why your Strength should be as high as possible. Your preferred method of fighting is crashing into people with your motorcycle, so your Constitution should be pretty high as well. Third is Charisma- bad boys are in these days. Your wisdom isn’t that bad, we’ll need it for multiclassing and also you know animals well enough to speak to them. Your Dexterity isn’t great; despite wearing leather armor, your main defense is your bike being faster than the enemies. Finally, we’re dumping Intelligence. Changing classes didn’t turn you into a professor.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: Getting your ride is our top priority, but that’ll take a couple levels. In the meantime we should make sure you’re at least a bit competent off the bike. Your fighting style is Unarmed Fighting, giving your unarmed strikes more power and letting you deal damage by grappling. I’d think grappling someone and running your bike would already deal damage, but now it’s RAW. You can also use your bonus action to gain a Second Wind for a smoke break.

You also get proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Intimidation and Athletics. Bikers are scary, man.

2. Bard 1: Okay, now we can get that bike. If you want justification for the class, you did mistake the Rider class for Kamen Rider, so there you go. You’re powered by Saturday morning kid’s shows.

Becoming a bard gives you one skill proficiency of your choice- I’m gonna say Insight. You look like you can read the room pretty well. You can also cast Spells using your Charisma, and you can give Bardic Inspiration to another creature as a bonus action a number of times per long rest equal to your charisma modifier. This is a d6 that the creature can add to an attack roll, skill check, or saving throw within the next ten minutes. You’re a nice guy like that.

This Kintoki’s a bit more thunder than lightning, so for your spells grab Thunderclap and Thunderwave to stay on brand, Friends and Animal Friendship to talk to squirrels, and Heroism and Longstrider to protect your wheels and give them a nitro boost.

3. Bard 2: Second level bards are Jacks of All Trades, giving you half your proficiency bonus on any skill check you’re not proficient in. This includes initiative, so even with your +0 dexterity modifier you can be a bit faster out the gate. You also gain a Song of Rest for extra healing over short rests if you like that sort of thing.

Also you can Speak with Animals now, so they can tell you how much faster you are than them.

4. Bard 3: Time to make some golden creations! As a Creation bard, you’ll find your inspiration dice are a bit more golden thanks to your Note of Potential, gaining extra effects. If used on an ability check they can roll twice and take the higher number, on an attack roll they force an constitution save (DC 8 plus your proficiency plus your charisma modifier) or creatures around them take thunder damage, and if used on a saving throw the creature gains a bit of temporary HP. 

The bigger draw this level, however, is the Performance of Creation. As an action, you can create a medium or smaller item worth less than 20 times your bard level in GP. It lasts a number of hours equal to your proficiency bonus, and you can use this once per long rest, or by burning a second level spell slot to use it again. It’s not enough to make a motorcycle just yet, but you can at least make that cool belt buckle.

Finally, you get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus. I’d go with Athletics and Animal Handling. You’ll need some lower body strength to hang onto your bike while fighting.

You can also cast second level spells now, like Enhance Ability to give a creature advantage on a kind of skill check. Give yourself a constitution boost to help with those Thousand Mile Drives.

5. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to round out your Strength and bring your Wisdom up to multiclassing minimums.

You can also cast Mending for another way to fix up your bike, or Shatter to break everything else.

6. Bard 5: At fifth level your inspiration becomes d8s, and you become a Font of Inspiration. This means you regain inspiration dice on short rests as well as long ones.

To celebrate, you learn how to put on a proper tokukatsu Motivational Speech from Acquisitions Incorporated, giving up to five creatures temporary hit points, advantage on wisdom saves, and advantage on its next attacks after its hit. The spell ends on a creature once the hit points are removed, otherwise it lasts for an hour.

7. Bard 6: Now we’re cooking! Now you can finally use an Animating Performance to make your motorcycle, a large Dancing Item. The item stays dancing for an hour, and you can use your bonus action to command it. You can animate an object once per long rest, or by burning a 3rd level spell slot to do it again. Plus, your Performance of Creation can make large items now, so a motorcycle is totally on the table!

The movement speed on a dancing item’s only 30′ which isn’t ideal, but on the plus side your bike can fly, so... I’d say it balances out the cool factor.

Sadly bards don’t get Haste, but if we can’t speed up your bike, at least we can Slow down your enemies.

Oh yeah, you also get Countercharm, spend an action to give allies advantage against being charmed or frightened, not really great but you can always use it for an “I know you’re in there” fight.

8. Fighter 2: Now that that detour’s out of the way, we can get back to fighting. Second level fighters get an Action Surge, tacking an extra action onto your turn once per short rest. Cast two spells, multitask with healing and hitting, or just hit people over and over again. It’s pretty versatile.

9. Fighter 3: Cavaliers get an extra skill proficiency, and Performance will really help you sell your Kintoki action figures. You’re also Born to the Seat, giving you advantage against falling off your mount and mounting/dismounting your cycle only costs 5′ of movement.

As a hero of justice, you can also apply an Unwavering Mark to a creature when you hit them that lasts until the end of your next turn. If the marked creature is within 5′, it will have trouble hitting other creatures, and if it still does you can make a special attack against the creature next turn as a bonus action. The attack has advantage, and deals extra damage as well. You can make these attacks a number of times per long rest equal to your strength modifier.

10. Fighter 4: Speaking of advantage and being good at riding things, use this ASI to become a Mounted Combatant, giving you advantage on attacks against creatures smaller than your mount, the ability to redirect attacks to you instead of your mount, and giving your mount evasion, meaning it takes half damage on a failed dexterity save and no damage on a success.

11. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an extra attack each attack action. It’s not very complicated, but it is very useful.

12. Cleric 1: Your dad’s a god, you get more thunder powers. As a cleric, you can cast and prepare spells using your Wisdom. As a Tempest Cleric, you can channel the Wrath of the Storm. When a creature within melee range hits you with an attack, you can react to blast lightning or thunder back at them with a dexterity save attached. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your Wisdom modifier. (So if you’re using the standard array, once.)

You can also cast Thaumaturgy for more dramatic entrances, Resistance so you’ll wipe out less often, and Light because every motorcycle needs a headlight. You can also kick up some dust with your domain spells, Fog Cloud and Thunderwave. You already have a better thunderwave from your bard levels, but hey why not be redundant. 

13. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can Channel Divinity in two ways. You can either Turn Undead to make walking corpses into running... away from you... corpses... (not my best work), or you can channel it into Destructive Wrath, allowing you to deal maximum damage when you deal lightning or thunder damage. Your spells are pretty low level, so the extra efficiency is appreciated. You can use this once per short rest, or you can burn your channel divinity use to Harness Divine Power, refilling a spell slot that’s less than half your proficiency modifier as a bonus action.

14. Fighter 6: Use your next ASI to boost your Charisma for stronger spells and more inspiration.

15. Fighter 7: As a more seasoned cavalier, you could react to add a bonus to a nearby allie’s AC when they’re being attacked a number of times per long rest equal to your Constitution modifier. You could, but unfortunately Warding Maneuver requires a melee weapon or shield, and you do things barehanded.

16. Fighter 8: If your hands are going to cause you this much trouble, they’d better be good at their job. Use this ASI to max out your Strength so they’re great at their job.

17. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting you re-roll a failed save once per long rest. You probably shouldn’t use this on your intelligence saves, you’re not making those either way.

18. Fighter 10: Tenth level cavaliers actually get something we can use, the ability to Hold the Line. This means your opportunity attacks can activate on a creature moving within your reach, and they also reduce the target’s speed to 0 on hit. A good hero keeps the villains focused on them.

19. Fighter 11: We’re almost done, but first you get another Extra Attack for even more punching goodness.

20. Fighter 12: Use your capstone ASI for more Constitution to get more HP and better concentration. You only have so many spells, you’ve got to make the most of them.

Pros:

Thanks to Animating Performance, you can literally make your motorcycle out of anything, as long as its large enough to ride. It also means you’ve got a flying bike, though if you want to keep it closer to canon you could flavor it as having the ability to ride up walls.

You can deal very consistent damage thanks to your high number of attacks and free advantage from mounting your bike. You’re also able to make your limited spell slots count, maximizing their damage with channel divinity.

Your skills as a cavalier make you good at getting enemies’ attention and keeping it away from squishier party members. Mix in a bit of healing from your cleric levels, and you can be a surprisingly good tank in a pinch.

Cons: 

You like to ride on things, and you also use a lot of spells with indiscriminate damage. That’s not a good combination, especially since your bike is a construct.

Having, at best, a leather jacket and a +0 to dexterity means your AC is pretty low. Your best defense is not being near the enemy when they get a chance to hit back.

Having to command your bike eats up all your bonus actions, meaning you’ll have to chose between using your unwavering mark or riding.

[sylsoddsandends]

My Unabridged Thoughts On Through The Looking Glass Ruins

Spoilers ahead folks! I'm also trying bolding phrases intermittently as I hear that does wonders for readability

First things first, I really found it interesting and refreshing that Luz wasn't in the A plot, and Eda and King didn't really factor at all. We needed some more Gus time, and we got it.

It was interesting seeing more of Gus's insecure side. If I thought of Plants as the English major of the Boiling Isles, then Illusions is the art student. It also makes me wonder how Edric and Emira got into the track. Doesn't seem like something Odalia and Alador would approve of. Might make a separate post about this.

In the end, we really got to see just why Gus was worthy of jumping up two grades. I'm super proud of him for making a whole illusion scene, that must have taken a lot of effort, even with the guardian's help.

We also got a better look at construction magic (seems like it's not just strength, but actually allows you to form things out of various materials!), more information on the other schools (I don't want to go to Glandus), and Matt redeeming himself a little! People who ship Gus and Matt are probably rejoicing, but I still find Matt a bit too annoying for that, sorry...

Of course, we also got... LOTS OF LUMITY!

Every scene with them was super sweet and helps show just how much they've ended up caring about each other. Both of them went the extra mile to help each other, Amity risking her job to get Luz the diary and Luz... probably risking her life again to get Amity un-fired. Really, Luz, I worry for you.

Amity decided to dye her hair purple and it looks adorable, and I am very proud of her for sticking it to her mom. I'm also happy that the twins supported her, even if Edric was a little preoccupied with his (possibly nonbinary?) date! In the end, she takes the big leap of kissing Luz on the cheek, and Luz is pretty obviously a fan of that. Normally this kind of stuff doesn't happen until the end of the show, so I'm really pleasantly surprised for it to be smack in the middle.

We also got our first look at the human who was here before Luz, and it seems he made the portal Eda went on to own! I wonder what happened to him, and if the diary will contain instructions for making a portal. Also I'm a fan of the echo mouse. Skully boye,,,

Well, I think that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed the episode as much as I did ^^

---

Addendum: my one issue with the episode is... why didn't Amity just ask the head librarian for the book? If he's her friend he probably would have understood if she'd given him a proper explanation

[cherrywoes]

ii. the girl in the foxes' den.

chapter two. heads for pikes.

The orphanage was a quaint little thing just on the borders of Shiratorizawa. Surrounded by a small lake dotted with water lilies, lily pads, and other winter resistant flowers that were the staple of your kingdom, it was perhaps the epitome of homeliness—what your brother aspired for the rest of his kingdom during his reign, a peacefulness that couldn’t be broken.

You had played at the lake as children, of course, when your father would sneak the both of you out of your mother’s insufferable tutoring lessons to mingle with the common folk. “To grow and learn,” he had said, but all you had learned was that people only believed in themselves, lived for themselves, and died for themselves. With the exception of Wakatoshi, maybe, you knew that the commoners were just as cutthroat as any other noble; just as worse, perhaps, or more so. You’d witnessed people, more than once, slit throats over the barest crumb of bread, and there was plenty to go around—and that was just amongst nobles.

Shiratorizawa prided itself upon strength and superiority, but that could only get you so far when you couldn’t even trust your neighbors not to stab you in the back.

“Wakatoshi can change that,” you mumbled to yourself. The smell of horse sweat, tangy and distinctly equine, assailed your nostrils; a comforting smell, despite how unappealing it sounded. You’d spent most of your life training or riding horses, after all, and paid quite a lot of attention to them when you weren’t busy wrangling disrespectful court women. Your mare nickered softly the closer you drew to the orphanage, where a singular crowd of children and a nun stood waiting for you to go to them. “Is it just me, or are there more orphans than before? Goshiki?”

The Elite Knight in question swallowed and swerved his head to pay attention to you. He, and another Knight, Semi Eita, had caught up to you as you were exiting the main wall that separated the main city from the palace. You recognized them as Wakatoshi’s close friends, nobles sworn into his personal circle after he was crowned King. They were never far from your brother’s side, so you had to wonder why he left them behind when he could have taken them with him. Tendou was far from the most physically capable man; his eagle form was much more sturdy in terms of battle.

“It makes sense,” Semi said instead, before Goshiki could stutter out an answer. He, like Goshiki, wore the same purple-tinged armor and sweeping crushed velvet cape. You’d found the whole ensemble ridiculous, right down to the plumage on their helms, but Wakatoshi was a stickler for tradition, at least in the uniform’s sense. “A lot of the commoners have come down with a sickness lately. Tracking down the source has been a pain; a lot of them died before we could get to them with a healer in time.”

You frowned, a distinct line on your face. Wakatoshi had always said you had a very foreboding frown, whatever that meant. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Semi shrugged. You were tempted to kick him off his horse and drag him down into the grass to strangle him for shrugging at you. You didn’t know what Wakatoshi let him get away with, but you hated people you weren’t close with acting casual towards you. It was one of your worst pet peeves, besides girls trying to play Queen, and you were sure your glare was enough to smelt steel if you tried hard enough.

“It wasn’t your place then,” he explained, tugging the reigns to veer around a slab of stone depicting the orphanage’s name. “King Ushijima was adamant that you have no part in it so as to prevent you from catching the illness.”

“And?” With a huff and a subtle side-eye, you watched him move back into place at your flank, staring straight ahead and cleverly avoiding your gaze. “Illness is no issue for me. I am an Ushijima—I don’t get sick.”

And that was true; besides small sicknesses like seasonal allergies or colds, you were invulnerable to everything else. Even poisons, to an extent, as long as they were ones you had been exposed to previously in small amounts. Though you hadn’t gained your eagle form just yet, you had the immunity of a shifter, which your brother found endlessly perplexing. You were grateful for it: it kept you from dying so easily at the hands of an assassin, if it ever came to that. You had been trained well enough to be a deadly opponent since you couldn’t shift, not that anyone except Wakatoshi and your mother knew that. The nobles would have heart attacks if they knew their princess could disarm a man faster than she could finish a single stitch of embroidery.

“He didn’t want to risk it, my lady.” Semi reached up and adjusted the pin of his cloak from poking into the gap between his chain mail and pauldron. “That’s all.”

Your lips drew into a thin line, but you quickly found yourself without time to retort as children swarmed your mare. You squeezed your legs against her sides in warning and carefully dismounted, narrowly avoiding swinging your boot into a poor child’s head when he refused to move out of your way. Goshiki took your hand to allow you to get to the ground without falling and you gave him a grateful nod when another child went straight for your knees to grab ahold of you.

“Children!” The nun scolded, bustling forward with a shiny red face. Her robes looked particularly suffocating in the heat as she began rerouting them all into the tiny group that had been around her previously, giving each one a specific and deliberate warning that perhaps went over deaf ears. She looked at you, an apology in her eyes, although it was eclipsed by the intense dislikement that came from your presence specifically. “Crown Princess [Name]. I was not aware of your visit until early this morning. I’m afraid we aren’t prepared for you at this time.”

You smiled bitterly. You had expected this, of course; nuns, specifically this nun, had an extreme hatred for you whether you were kind to them or not. It all stemmed from one little fact: you were not your mother. They saw you as weak, as prime pickings when Wakatoshi was away. It was a common perception, the same one you had concocted with your brother, and while you were keen on keeping it up for the time being, it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some measure of irritation at being unable to freely express yourself around others. Because you played the docile, meek princess locked away in the castle, you had no true way of earning power except through deception. And that was what you had intended—there was more power in the dark than the light.

“That’s quite alright,” you replied soothingly, using the sweetest tone you could muster. You opened your saddlebag and produced a bag of gold—ones, ironically, with your face on them to be petty—to hand over to the nun. She looked at you questioningly, the weight heavier than she was used to getting from you or any royal, and squeezed the pouch thoughtfully. “To buy the children new clothes for the upcoming winter—extra for more food, since there are more than before, I hear?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The woman tucked the pouch away into her robes. You made a mental note to tell the local seamstress and hunters to make sure she only bought furs and shoes for the children—you didn’t trust anyone in positions of religious institutions as far as you could throw them. And that wasn’t very far. “Is there anything… else you needed?”

“No. I came to—” Your eyes caught on a woman lingering at the edge of the crowd of children, dressed in rags. She was fairly petite, blonde of hair, and looked completely out of place in Shiratorizawa as a whole, where brown hair and black hair was most common. She stuck out as much as Tendou did with his red hair. “Who is that?”

The nun turned to see who you were looking at. You were surprised to see disgust crawl over her features, more potent than if it had been aimed at you. “Oh, that’s a refugee from Karasuno—the neighboring Empire to Nekoma. She says while the King and his advisor are away, some other kingdom stormed their castle, raided their lands, and now hold their capital ransom until King Sawamura returns.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Wakatoshi’s aides hadn’t notified you of this. And judging by the alarmed looks on Semi and Goshiki’s faces, they hadn’t known either, which meant this was a very recent occupation, or someone had swept under their noses, past their borders, and invaded Karasuno without so much as a warning. And any kingdom who could be that discreet, that sly, was worth keeping a very close eye on.

“I see.” You forced your features to be more sympathetic, bringing your hand up to your cheek in faux thought. You might have even tried to cry if it wouldn’t have seemed so fake. “Well, she can’t just stay at the orphanage—what is her name?”

The nun shrugged, disgruntled, and waved for the woman. “You! Come here.”

The blonde haired woman startled, looking towards them with wide eyes. Her gaze darted between Semi and Goshiki with their armor and then finally settled on you, dressed less than princess-like, and the tiara on your head that you’d thrown on when you found it in your saddlebag before you left. It was, luckily, made with black pearls and onyx, so it fit well with your outfit and didn’t look too out of place.

“Your majesty,” she whispered when she drew near enough. Her feet were calloused from miles of walking, raw from running over craggy peaks and sharp cliff faces that separated Karasuno from Shiratorizawa, a feat in its own right. Blood still seeped from open cracks in her heels and dripped into the sand, turning it a deep red. Though her face was dirty, smeared with dirt and dried mud that hadn’t been cleaned, she was pretty underneath it all—and very clearly of some nobility. Her features were too aristocratic to be anything else, a bastard maybe, but clearly noble. When she curtsied, you noted the practiced ease and near perfect posture even with infected wounds and wounded feet. “I apologize for my appearance—”

“No need.” You held up your hands and reached over to straighten her. Gravel rolled beneath her heels and she shifted, sending a waft of sweat, days old blood, and what you could barely say was stale perfume towards you. You had to blink to keep your eyes from watering at the pungent scent; so as not to humiliate her, you smiled, though you had a hard time blinking the water from your eyes. “You are nobility, yes?”

The nun looked over, alarmed, but the girl was already nodding her head in a reluctant affirmative.

You stepped back and between Semi and Goshiki in thought. Her presence could easily be taken as an offense; she was here without invitation, despite her empire being occupied, and living in squalor at the orphanage, unbecoming of a noble, especially a woman. But she could also be a valuable asset: she was a well of knowledge about Karasuno and the current political situation. If you could wheedle enough information out of her, you would be able to yank Karasuno right out from under the invaders’ noses and instill Shiratorizawa rule, but you knew it wouldn’t be that easy—there was an edge in her gaze that spoke of a cleverness. She wouldn’t release her secrets so easily.

“Well, then.” You scanned her up and down and pursed your lips. “We can’t leave you here, Lady…?”

“Yachi.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yachi Hitoka.”

“Yachi Hitoka,” you amended, the name foreign on your tongue but vaguely familiar. A family name you had heard before, perhaps in your studies. You would make sure to crack open the records whenever you returned back to the palace. “You can’t stay here. Return with me to the palace and we’ll see to getting you a bath and some food… Unless you would rather stay here?”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Yachi’s voice was quiet, but there was gratitude there—step one complete.

You smiled and turned to your horse. Semi knelt down and allowed you to step into his hands to settle your leg over the saddle, hooking your foot in the stirrup when you were settled. The mare tossed her head with a snort, eager to get going, and you patted her neck gently. You jerked your head towards Goshiki—the one least likely to say something rude about her smell—when you spoke to Yachi again. “You’ll ride with Goshiki. His horse is the gentlest, which will be better on your wounds in the long run. I wouldn’t want you to rip open the ones that have already healed.”

Yachi nodded. “Thank you, your majesty.”

You waited for her to mount with the help of Goshiki, watching as she struggled to support herself on hurt feet. He allowed her to sit in front of him rather than behind, even though, to your amusement, it made his face burn a bright red, so she wouldn’t fall off as easily. Semi snorted beside you at his babbled explanation and Yachi seemed to notice, her face flushing—you wondered if she also had a fever—and dropped her head to avoid your gaze.

You turned your head and nodded to the nun in silent farewell, turning your horse and heading back the way you came. You tried to keep quiet, to not pester her with questions, but your curiosity won out.

“So, Lady Yachi,” you called, looking over at her from your horse,”what banners did these… invaders fly with their troops?”

She looked uncomfortable at the memory, but answered,”None, your majesty. A banner with a black field was all I saw.”

“I see.” That made no sense. Any organized army with enough might to siege an empire could only be another kingdom or empire; none that you knew employed a plain black field upon their banner except for Karasuno and Nekoma themselves, and you knew Nekoma didn’t have the capacity to invade and occupy another empire without aid from another. No, this was something different—a mercenary group, perhaps? But that made no sense, either. “And did anyone else escape as you did?”

“I… I’m not sure, your majesty.” Yachi took on a look of genuine anguish at the thought and you had to pity her just a little. “But if they did, they wouldn’t have risked Shiratorizawa as I did—perhaps Nekoma, or Aoba Johsai.”

Yes, those two were indeed more likely. No one would want to brave the cliffs and hills that made up Shiratorizawa; they were made for eagle shifters and those who knew the terrain well enough not to fall to their deaths. It was dangerous for any other to go through them, which was all the more suspicious now that an army had seemingly snuck through without anyone noticing. You would have to dig deeper into this—and worm your way into Wakatoshi’s advisor’s good graces, too.

“Hmm.” You scratched your chin. “Semi, when we return, assemble a small group of men and head to Nekoma and then Aoba Johsai to search for survivors. Get their stories; I’m concerned about this new militant force, whoever it is. They could target Shiratorizawa next.”

“W-wait!” Yachi made Goshiki shove his horse forward. You raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “If you can—can you see if my friends made it out? You can’t miss one of them, he has orange hair, and is short—”

You looked to Semi for confirmation. It was his squadron he would likely be sending out; it was his choice. You had no interest in her friends, even if they were survivors. You just wanted their stories. When he nodded subtly, you inclined your head and looked back to Yachi. “Very well. They will look—but they will not hunt them down. That’s the best I can offer you, Yachi. I apologize.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled, a pathetic, weary thing. “It means a lot to me that you even considered it. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.”

You couldn’t relate. Your kingdom wasn’t occupied by an unknown enemy force, hopefully it never would be. You could only nod and nudge your horse into a trot, eager to see if you had drove that arrogant little girl playing Queen out of the palace, only to see a procession—a very haphazard, unsteady procession—proceeding towards you faster than you could blink. Among them was an eagle shifter you knew well—Kenjiro Shirabu—and he never used his eagle form unless it was of the utmost importance.

Because he was smaller than the others, you were able to hold out your arm and allow him to land safely, even if he almost knocked you over in the process. His claws dug into your arm and ripped through your sleeve as he tried to steady himself, but he looked so terrified, so scared, even in eagle form, that your concern quickly overpowered your smugness.

“Shirabu?” You reached up and plucked a loose feather from his wing. “What’s wrong?”

“King Wakatoshi’s squadron—what was left of it—returned home moments after you departed.” He was out of breath, taking deep inhales through his beak to catch it, and you watched him with concerned eyes. “I was told to return and inform you.”

But that made no sense—what was left of it?

“What do you mean?” You squinted at him, understanding settling in your gut even though you denied it. “Shirabu?”

He avoided your gaze. “They were attacked. King Wakatoshi… King Wakatoshi did not return with them. Nor did Tendou.”

It was like someone had dropped a cold stone in your belly. “What?”

“Please hurry to the palace.” He was already rising, flapping his wings to gain altitude. You reached up to snatch him back down, but he evaded your grasp and hovered just above your reach. “The advisors are in a panic. They don’t know what to do—you’re the only one who can take charge now, Princess [Name].”

He was gone before you could stop him. You watched him fly away, in a daze, eyes fixed on his steadily shrinking form, much like when you had watched Wakatoshi leave that day. He had promised to bring you back honey from the forest.

“Let’s go.” You spurred your horse into a run, Goshiki and Semi following right behind you. You had to know if it was true. And if it was… If it was? “We… We need to do damage control.”

“I believe the damage is already done, your majesty!” Semi shouted over the roaring wind in his ears. He gestured to the outside of the palace, already in sight from the breakneck pace, as you merged with the retinue that had come with Shirabu. People rallied around the gate, rioting, demanding to know what was going on. Tomatoes and sour fruit flew and hit the men standing guard at their post. “We’ll go through the back way!”

You allowed Semi to take charge, moving his horse to the head of your group because, for once, you could make no decisions. Your thoughts revolved around your brother—undefeated, unconquerable Wakatoshi, so confident in his decisions and quiet and kind. Now he was gone, dead or missing, and you had no idea who had done it.

But when you found them, whoever had taken your brother from you and kept him from returning home, you would skin them and place their heads on a pike.

And you would start with Akira Saito.

one | masterlist | three

taglist (open): i don't think i got any requests for this taglist (if i did i forgot) so feel free to ask me again to add you if i did. <3

[thejosh1980]

I was lookin' back to see if she was lookin' back...

Yesterday Alex, Mum and I celebrated...

It's been one year since Alex and I arrived at Mum's place in Ocean Shores, NSW Australia.

If you've read my earlier blogs in 2020, you'll know that we had a lot of trouble getting home. Between the government and airlines, at one point it looked like we'd never get here; we were stranded. I was living in constant worry, stress and hopelessness - in fact, we all were: Alex's family in Germany and Mum's family down under.

Our July 2020 flights were cancelled or rescheduled many times, and eventually we decided to buy new, more expensive flights, on another airline through an agency, which gave us some assurances we'd be on the flight. Our new flights booked and confirmed for early September.

We flew Frankfurt to Adelaide, which was not our original plan. Adelaide had no COVID, and the chance of getting on a flight and getting into the country was higher than say, Brisbane, or Sydney. We could quarantine in Adelaide for 2 weeks and then fly on to Brisbane, which is closer to Ocean Shores.

That was like.... so last year...

This area where we now live is known as the Northern Rivers of New South Wales, and when we arrived at Mum's there was no COVID in the area. We are only about 35 minutes south of the Queensland border, about 8 hours north of the big smoke, Sydney.

Now, a year on, COVID has arrived here.

It's been biting at the heals of tourists and essential workers travelling north since Sydney went into lockdown a couple of months ago.

It's not our idea of a good time.

Right now it's school holidays, which is meant to be 2 weeks of families holidaying in caravan parks and hotels, an essential part of this tourist attraction mecca. Byron Bay, Brunswick Heads, and surrounds are usually very popular places; so popular that most locals complain about how busy it gets here during the holidays. You just can't get a parking sport anywhere!

The Northern Rivers was locked down for about 6 weeks through August into September because cases from Sydney were getting into regional NSW. These regional areas affected by COVID weren't near here, but they made a blanket rule for everywhere outside of Sydney, just to be on the safe side.

Honestly, I don't blame them for the rule, regional outback Australia can't cope with COVID, there's few hospitals, beds, or COVID experience in the scrub and farm land.

Anyhow, I digress...

After those 6 weeks or so in lockdown, they lifted the restrictions here in the northern rivers (and other areas of NSW).

And now, after 2 weeks, lockdown is back on...

There are a couple of cases in the area. Snap lockdowns are the government's preferred method of containing outbreaks. Lockdown areas wherever cases pop up for a week or two (or longer) to limit exposure.

It reminds me constantly that life can change quickly at any time. I have decided I will not waste time once this current lockdown has ended (who knows when that will be). I will visit friends, family, and musicians who live close by. I want to see as many folks as quickly as possible, before another lockdown kicks in.

Besides the boring, never ending tale of COVID, there have been a few things happening this past year...

Alex has been working consistently in the real estate industry since her temporary visa kicked in late last year.

Her first job was a few more miles away than any of us locals would consider driving, and the position wasn't as enjoyable or rewarding as she had first hoped. She really dived in the deep end, and while she didn't drown, she probably needed a few swimming lessons before the attempt. It was a life lesson, one she took on board, and when a new job came up closer to home, she nailed the interview (as she always does), and hasn't looked back.

The 2nd job is less than half the distance away, strictly 9 to 5 and in a company which she enjoys. There's a strong company structure, good work ethic, and entertaining colleagues. Her supervisors, colleagues, and managers are all very supportive; I think she'll be sitting tight on this one for a while.

Alex has also found her creative side again, scrap book journalling, instant camera photography, and some kind of couples diary/journal/photo book too. It's become an almost nightly affair of focusing, creating, and having something to show for it fairly quickly. She's very proud of her work, and it's something she does just for herself. I don't expect you'll get a chance to see a photo of what she's done, and she likes it like that.

I had a bit of work late in 2020 and early 2021, nothing special really, but wait until the premier!! It's interesting to think that some day soon I'll be able to go to the cinema and see my ugly mug on the big screen (even if it will most likely be out of focus). I'll be on Netflix too.

Having the opportunity to be an extra on film and TV was a real boost for my confidence after being off stage for so long. I felt creative, met some great people, made some friends, and had a few bucks in my pocket. Happy days.

By jumping into an industry I hadn't been in before right after arriving here, it reminded me that Australia has a lot to offer. I found myself comparing Germany and Australia, and Australia often feels like it comes up short. This was a chance to prove to myself that there are adventures awaiting here down under.

So, I decided to go back to school.

The last time I was in a class room was in 1998!! I am studying a Diploma of Counselling, and am currently half way through my studies. I've found it very challenging, but have passed every assessment so far, and gained some handy skills too. I have a good connection with my teachers, and I really enjoy the company of my classmates; some of which I can even call friends.

I chose counselling for a few reasons, but the first step was really just a process of elimination. Besides being a freelance professional musician for several years in Germany, I had worked in offices, shops, warehouses, kindergartens and various other jobs. While I could go back into IT or something similar, I wanted to use this opportunity to try something new.

I had my fair share of mental health issues in the past (and present). I thought maybe those experiences could help me connect with folks who need support as well. When looking at course options, the counselling course stood out. So now I'm making a mid life crisis gamble that I'll pass the course, and feel confident and knowledgeable enough to take on the role that many others have taken on for me over the years.

The course has helped me find a routine too, one that I didn't know I needed, until it happened. When you're jobless and unfocused, the mind wanders, the days pass. Now my mind is focused on study, and I feel better for it.

Up until the lockdown hit, we were in class 3 days a week and then I'd study from home 1 to 3 days a week. When lockdown hit, we had to go online. However, being on the computer so much has worn me out, and I really start to enjoy those rare days where I am not looking at a screen!

To be honest, it's been challenging every step of the way, and I even thought about quitting several times in the past few months. However, my confidence has steadily risen to each challenge and I felt better for it.

That's the kind of vicious circle I enjoy.

In July I had my first live show in 13 months! In fact, to date I've only had 3 since the pandemic started! Fingers crossed I can cross the border next month and add a 4th.

I was approached by Cherry Divine to play guitar for her. It's a relatively easy gig for me. The songs are fun rockabilly tunes, Cherry sings great, and she already has a band and gigs. I'm helping her write a few songs too, for her next album. I can't thank her enough for sparkin' the fire in me to keep music alive in my life; for a while there I thought it was all a thing of the past.

With the spark has come the possibility of “The Josh” solo band coming together. While the band isn't moving at any great speed (the recent 2nd lockdown kicked in right as I was about to arrange a rehearsal), I'm finally eager to get a band together. I miss playing live, and I miss having musicians in my life. I miss the spontaneity of a show, life on the road, and crowd reactions.

I've even started to write some new material, and get those ideas on “tape”, well, on the computer. Slow and steady, between studying, family, pets and surfing, music is coming back into my life, and it feels good.

Our family unit here is doing well. Alex and I have been under mum's roof and mum's care for a year now. There are some ups and downs, but mostly I'd say they're ups... The house is big enough to give all of us space, all of us get time outside of the house (except during lockdown, I was mostly stuck at home, but that's OK for me)...

Last night we couldn't go out for dinner, but we did have take away from the local Indian which was really good, and a special treat for us, we don't eat out often.

Alex and I plan to get away every 5-6 months for a visit to somewhere we haven't been. In March we were on the “Sunshine Coast” and checked out Australia Zoo, and in June we went south to the mid north coast to pick up BB Junior.

It's nice to get out and explore. A bit hard to do at the moment, with the restrictions, but we've agreed another trip away (before Christmas if possible) is in order. Those trips are part of the reason why I came home, to see some of Australia, and I'm lucky I get to make those experiences with Alex.

It's also nice to get away from it all. I know we live in a beautiful spot near the ocean, but here, at home, there's the computers, the life and routine, and getting away keeps us fresh and focused on each other. It's definitely something I look forward to!

Speaking of BB Junior, he's almost 7 months old now, and a real character. While he's not the easiest cat to train, I've been getting a few tricks out of him, and he enjoys his time outside, with his harness and long lead. He visits his cousin each week for play time, Charlie, who is another ragdoll of a family friend who loves to play chase all day long with Junior. Alex adores Junior, and Junior adores Alex; they can't wait to cuddle when she comes home from work. He's very vocal too, so even when everyone is at work, I have someone to talk to!

Losing our little boy Mijo was a real difficult experience. I know I've written about him before, but he deserves a mention here, as he was a big part of our first year here. He was full of character and strength, he and I bonded very quickly and not a day goes by I don't think of him. He also brought Alex and I closer together. When she chose him for me, and when he passed, and all points in between, he brought us closer.

I've been focused on sport a fair bit since getting back and settling in. I bought a RowErg, also known as a rowing machine, and I row about twice a week, in addition to riding my bicycle about twice a week. I try to surf every chance I get, which unfortunately ends up being only a few times a month. It's my goal to do something sporty to get my heart rate up every day, and of late, usually I get there too. I don't really do it for any other reason than I love to snack and I can't snack if I don't do sport!

A benefit of my sport/snack workout routine is it helps me stay calm and focused and connected with those I ride and surf with.

I haven't asked Mum how she's feeling about having her middle aged son and his wife living with her recently. Maybe I should, but do I really wanna know the answer? Well, I think she's OK with it. After all, we drive her wherever she wishes! I suspect it goes a little deeper than that, and in all honesty, we enjoy each other's company.

Since Alex and I have been here, I'd like to think Mum has been living a little bit fuller life. I don't think her eyesight has deteriorated much in the past year, but we've been able to provide her with support, eyes to read the small print, driving and help with google, or something around the house. When Mum was diagnosed with celiac disease earlier this year, Alex took her shopping to check over the ingredients of Mum's favourite food, and when needed, found alternatives. It definitely made the transition to gluten free a little easier on Mum and it was a load off my mind that we were around to help her through that phase.

Winter 2021 was over before it even started. I forgot how warm this part of the world is, and I don't know why I own so many jackets! Returning from Europe, where I was wearing a jacket daily for about 9 months of the year, here it feels like, if it's really needed, and I mean if you're desperate, you might need one for 9 weeks of the year. I think the heater was on a handful of times, and the sun was shining just about every day.

I tell ya, it's some kind of paradise here.

It's been a bit difficult keeping up with our European friends and family. I sometimes find it hard to find the time to be proactive to contact the 20, 30 or more friends I'd like to keep in touch with regularly. I know our lives keep on keepin' on, but time passes by so quickly too, and next thing you know it's been 4 months since I last contacted you!

Sorry about that!

Don't take it personally, and I'll get back to you, eventually!

My overall mental health has improved over the year, I'd say it's become quite stable since I started the course. I mean, can't you tell? I write less and less in this blog, because I have less and less to process. I'm not sure if it's the fact there's a lot of self reflection that is inherently a part of doing that kind of mental health course, or if it's the routine of being a student or the new friends I've made and classmates I study with.

It could be that it's taken a year to come to terms with being back here, cause when I first arrived I felt uncomfortable, depressed and worn out... There were a lot of questions; is this a mid life crisis? What am I doing here? Will I ever feel good again? Is my music career over? What am I going to do now? Is Alex OK? Is Mum OK?

My journalling, blogging, and support from friends and family has helped a lot too this past year. Processing my thoughts in words, by clarifying and reflecting, has helped a lot. I've been trying to care for myself a bit more now and then too, I think people call it self care, sometimes I call it sport! Alex has helped me to recognise my achievements, however big or small, and focus less on what I haven't done.

I'm not perfect, but definitely improving.

I was hoping that Alex and I would be in a position to start looking at buying our own house around this time, a year in, but unfortunately, with one of us being a student and the ever rising cost of housing, we have to sit tight on that idea for a while longer. Sorry Mum, you're stuck with us.

There's been many smaller things happen during our first year here. Lots of moments of gratitude, love and support. There's some stuff we've forgotten, or that has been overtaken by something bigger. All in all, I'd say it's been a real rollercoaster home coming!

We're still here, a year on, still going strong, making motions, taking chances, being in love, talking shit, laughing, smiling, misbehaving and focusing... What more could we ask for?

Thank you for reading, for your support and love. I love you too.

Josh