#so it is both easier to keep track of

[nixie-deangel]

Trick or treat 🎃

Excuse the bad hand writing but here's a sneak peak at just some of the ideas I've jotted down for these two:

Trick or Treat with Nixie!

[brittlebutch]

SUCH an autism moment to me -- not only for the mirroring but also the strange, tense way Spock moves to do it. Like he's not at all confident in his ability to move his limbs in the right configuration to reach the desired endpoint and he's not even 100% sure if he wants to try -- Dyspraxia moments my beloved; Mr. Spock i'm Love you <3

[rivilu]

Everyone's on about Miguel beefing with a 15 yo, which sure it's funny, but y'all are letting the Spot, "I now declare this child that MY INVENTION inflicted this anomalous occurrence on, my lifelong nemesis", the ULTIMATE beef haver, to go unchecked.

[birlwrites]

Apart from his parents, does Barty have any other relatives (such as cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents) and, if so, what are they like? Does Barty visit them?

haha uh. nope!

i didn't come up with any of those, so, he does not lmao. he DOES have a variety of aunt- and uncle-like figures who are his mom's friends, many of whom were her colleagues when she worked at the daily prophet - she left her job when barty was born, then as he got older started moving more into art history and research, which is what she *really* wants to do, but she didn't start going full tilt on that until he'd left for hogwarts

SO since harriet was being a stay-at-home mom, her friends often came to her (or she'd like. meet up with them, she wasn't a shut-in until her family was placed under ministry security), and since barty was basically glued to his mom, this means he's very familiar with all of them and they've known him since he was a baby. probably some of them have kids as well, although jury's out on whether they're remotely near barty's age

[akkivee]

rivals

[simcardiac-arrested]

i am going to give asks every day for a unskippable cutscene i think until i either forget or you no longer want them. the long rambles are very fun to read.

im glad you like my rambles man it’s fun to just spew thoughts!! but anyway since i already mentioned chess in some earlier asks i might as well ramble about it. it is THEE game of all time to me. like … i don’t know. it’s SOOO good they made a game that is actually perfect. i might be saying that because i’m biased and it’s like the game of my childhood cuz i’ve played it since i was veryyy young. but oh my god i dont know. I sound like a snob but it is perfect intellectual stimulation. i love Thinking. i fucking love imagining how the game will go. i love predicting my opponent’s moves it’s sooo fun. sometimes i get it just right and my opponent falls for my bait and right into my mischievously set up trap and i obliterate them. soemtimes though my opponent sees through it and surprises me and i have to be like !!!!!!!! I HAVE TO THINK HARDER NOW HOLY SHIDT !!!!! sometimes chess will have you in SUCH a stump. you will be sooo stuck and unsure of what to do. it will look like a dead end. and that’s so fun to me too … there is Always some sort of way out if you try hard enough. sometimes you have to sacrifice some pieces abd you have to think whether a rook or a horse is more important to you. i love how sometimes chess games can be casual and take like 15 minutes but sometimes it’s like, the most thought consuming thing in your life and it takes hourssss. but it’s so worth it either way bc it’s either like, the satisfaction of a hard earned win or the friendly loss of a big challenge. idgaf about winning or losing i just love playing chess. and yet i do not know shit about it!! obviously i know the pieces and how they move and shit, and i’ve worked out some strategies that i tend to open with. but i’ve never watched tournaments. i don’t know the ‘pro chess moves’. my dad never bothered to teach me and i never bothered to learn. i play like a pro but i have the unpredictability of a newbie because i seriously don’tttttt know what the fuck a fork or a queen’s gambit or a Whatever is. Like you’re just making shit up at me. chess is not about strategies or pro gamer tactics it’s about pretending to be smart and becoming dr strange imagining every possible outcome of your opponent’s next move

[alexanderwales]

I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.

A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.

The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.

The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.

A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.

A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.

Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.

Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.

Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".

[shatterthefragments]

Me: makes plans to see a friend (and messages have been sent to other friends in the area since I’m going to be local to them for a bit)

Also me: UGH I DONT WANT TO MOVE OR DRIVE. (It’s hours too late to take the buses)

[springcatalyst]

julian is so fucking sucks and i like it but. god does it make him impossible to write sometimes

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: SCII

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: SCII

Thursday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Friday:

2:30 PM: Just Desserts (vent)

Saturday:

2:30 PM: Just Desserts (vent?)

Sunday:

2:30 PM: Just Desserts (probably vent)

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[whoslaurapalmer]

mannnnn nobody has a laugh like sydney greenstreet. I love his laugh so so much

[wonryllis]

INTERRUPTING THEM WITH A KISS ✶ 𝒽𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇 & 𝒷𝖺𝖼𝗄

﹙ ⌕ ﹚ 𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓. enhypen melting into you like it's a habit. contains fem!r, fluff, lots of kissing, pg 15. wc 1657, approximately 0.24k each. check out the d𝒾rectory? stat requested.

──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

lee heeseung swears he's never found anyone or as a matter of fact, anything as annoying as you. you're like a roach up his ass, the bane of his existence. yet when he looks at your cherry stained lips as you crash into him outside the club— he can't deny: that the idea of them against his own doesn't seem half as bad. probably the alcohol, heeseung convinces himself.

"if you don't get off and at least a hundred feet away from me right now, i swea—" and your lips crash into his. intentionally, to get under his skin? accidentally, because of the shots? who cares! heeseung can literally feel the breath leave his lungs as you move your lips against his.

but you pull away before he can do anything,"shut up jer—" and it irks him for some god forbid reason, alcohol again? oh fuck the alcohol! imma kiss that attitude outta her. not even a fraction of second passes before heeseung is grabbing your jaw and pulling you back into a kiss.

you want to breathe? forget it. lee heeseung is not having it anymore. a chance to put you in your place, he's not letting it slip through his fingers. he does not want to.

"you shut up." the tendencies of an enemy with his deepest desires unknown to him; kissable lips on an enemy is the most sinful and irresistible thing ever. probably why you annoyed him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

jay's thighs feel warm against your own as you sit still on his lap, his legs shaking subtly while he rambles about some clothes. the tiny smear of vanilla ice cream near the corner of his lower lip, bothering you more and more with the seconds ticking by.

"and then i had to get the pants exchang—" you don't even realize it yourself when you lean in to capture his lips and lick at the sweetness. his own words dying down as he stares down at your face, completely dumbstruck. come on, that's your girlfriend idiot! kiss back! it's probably the twelfth time you both have kissed since you got together three months ago; it's not like he's keeping track of the kisses but... yeah you make him too nervous so, he is.

"b-baby..?" your hands cup his cheeks and he shuts down again. ears burning hot, and lips parted to let you do what you want. if there's one thing jay can't help, it's letting you have your way. whenever, wherever.

it takes him approximately ten seconds to overcome that nervousness and respond to the kiss. mouth closing in on your chocolate flavored lips in a soft and gentle smooch. after smooch. after smooch. the tendencies of a new boyfriend still reeling in; having the girlfriend of your dreams is not something you can get used to just like that.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake has been hanging out and around you for months now. it should have gotten easier by this time, he thinks. but no, every look, every conversation, every subtle touch feels like it burns hotter than the last time. are these the side effects of a crush? of getting closer to them? or of behaving normally after accidentally pecking? jake checks all the boxes.

"yeah so it's supposed to go like this. did you get i—" jake looks up from the project files on the desk, his voice and his life dropping down to his ass at the touch of your lips on his. what the hell is happening? are you actually? is he dreaming? jake cannot decide on what he should think. kiss back obviously! what's more to think?!

the kiss is short and sweet, and it doesn't satisfy him. hand immediately grabbing your throat to keep you from pulling away as he begins responding to the kiss. lips engulfing yours in a deeper and longer one, like it's the nth time you are kissing. like he's so used to it, like he's addicted?

“what— what was that?” jake pants out, somehow managing to pull away. his demeanor shifting drastically from the one that had just possessed him. the tendencies of a crush finally getting a taste; once you get hooked, there's no going back. not after a kiss uncalled for like that.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

he has slept once with you, just once sunghoon reminds himself— grounds himself; for he feels way too obsessed with the thought of you for having only had you once in that way. is it normal? probably not. will he do something about it? probably not.

so he acts like normal, tries to. his hands in his pockets as he walks with you to his car, head hanging low even though his eyes keep stealing glances at you while he tells you about his upcoming tournaments. stopping to open the passenger seat door for you, still speaking of his fears of lack of perfectionism.

"there's still parts i need to work extra o—" but instead of getting right in, you get onto your tiptoes and pull him by his collar into a kiss. if a body can function with a disjointed heart, sunghoon swears it's him.

his heart skipping beats in a row and all of a sudden feeling like it's stopped entirely. yet his hands and lips move without a second thought, without waiting for even a millisecond. grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you right back, nibbles and suckles and tongue and everything.

"you'll do well, don't worry too much," the tendencies of a one night stand turned friend; it's probably not the best idea to become buddies with someone you slept with, especially if you want more.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

the hallways are crowded as always, loud and bustling, drowning out your and sunoo’s laughs and giggles. talking about anything and everything while you wait for another friend.

sunoo's known you for a few years now, not a lot but enough to know when something's up. “he didn't check it properly and then.. hey? are you oka—” and he notices it on your face a fraction of a moment before you pull him into an abrupt kiss— mid conversation.

frozen, nervous and confused. yet all he thinks is actually how uncannily decent it feels, almost encroaching a feeling way too good. “i’m so sorry sun. i told my ex we are dating and he looked our way when he passed by and i panicked—” sunoo shushes you all too quickly, regretting not having kissed back properly.

“i get it, we can pretend. i don't mind it,” he doesn't know what comes over him as he proposes the idea, but he definitely expects to get into situations like these. why? he has no clue. he just wants it.

“everything you need to do to convince him, i’m all in,” his gaze trails over your lips, leaning closer unintentionally. another kiss right in the middle of the hallway. the tendencies of a friend offering to help in a non friendly way; fake dating a friend you feel like you could possibly develop feelings for is like digging your own grave.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

four months, seventeen days, twelve hours and probably thirty-six minutes. jungwon’s counting with all he has. this relationship, or whatever is going on between you two; beyond friends and bordering lovers, is bugging him down to his core. it's eating away at him.

“you just called me your friend,” leaning against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, jungwon tries to behave— be as nonchalant as he can. jealousy? what's that? look me in the eyes and tell me i'm just a friend look.. no he isn't looking at you like that. snap out of it yang jungwon!

“you really think i’m just a friend? after all that we have don—” two steps closer, bodies pressed, eyes locked and your kiss that shuts him up. oh to hell with being normal with you. your hands slide around the back of his neck and his words die down against your lips like kissing you is his second nature.

“boyfriend? you want that label?” the mumbles against his lips, the sound of your soft breaths and the taste of your lipbalm, it's like jungwon is high.

“again.” catching your lower lip between his in a languid nibble. he can't help but keep wanting to kiss you, the ding of the elevator drowned out behind all his thoughts of you. the tendancies of a situationship with obvious feelings; being friendzoned by your girlfriend-to-be gets you jealous, he'll admit it now.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

friends. friends. friends. riki chants internally, again and again. and again. poopy diaper, runny nose, screeching tantrums— he thinks everything unpleasant about you, everything he possibly can. childhood friends ripping each other's hair out, neighbours annoying each other across the bedroom windows, classmates snitching out on each other's crushes. everything that's just friends.

nothing more. never— impossible. riki soothes himself, his mind and heart still jumbling all around after your question earlier, ‘what if we kissed?’ disgusting! right? he's not sure if he's answering or questioning his sanity.

and though the conversation is stirred clear of the topic, both of you nestled on your bedroom floor talking about club applications; his eyes staring right at you, seeming as unfazed as ever, his psychological state is nowhere near willing to calm down.

“what do you think about the drama clu—” your lips don't last even a second on his, before he is pushing you away, like he's allergic to kisses.

“w-what are you doing!” riki exclaims, fingers rubbing over his mouth,”i told you earlier,” and then slowly reaching forward to brush them against yours as he leans back in, involuntarily he insists. “i know but this is, so weird.. i’m not supposed to like it,” soft mumbles and lips grazing. the tendencies of a lifelong friend crossing an improbable line. locking lips with your childhood friend just for a ‘what if’ is the worst plan ever, or maybe not so much.

taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[lazuliquetzal]

they don't know that old school tumblr also had a sidebar

[buckyalpine]

Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

[grison-in-space]

from the number of asinine complaints about how "voting is NOT a form of harm reduction" because harm reduction is for ADDICTS! ONLY! I'm seeing around... all coming from OP blogs I don't recognize and which otherwise don't have much presence... well, that coordination alongside the timing of US politics sure feels like the Russian troll bots agitating again. (Yes, they absolutely infested Tumblr; I think @ms-demeanor had a great post about what the bots looked and felt like somewhere that I will have to try and track down tomorrow.)

The thing is, if you actually do know harm reduction well, the complaint makes no sense. It's not as if the origin of harm reduction is a secret or especially hard to find out more about. I am not exactly an expert in the field: I have a educated layperson's interest in public health and infectious disease, I'm a queer feminist of a certain age and therefore have a certain degree of familiarity with AIDS-driven safer sex campaigns, and I'm interested in disability history and self advocacy (and I would in fact clarify harm reduction as a philosophy under this umbrella). So I have about twenty years of experience with harm reduction as a philosophy basically by existing in communities whose history is intertwined with harm reduction, which means I know it well from many different angles, and I know how the story of the philosophy is generally taught.

See, this is a story that starts, as so many stories do, in the 1980s with something monstrous President Reagan was doing. In this case, it was the AIDS epidemic, and Reagan refusing to devote any money or time to what eventually became called AIDS (rather than the original GRIDS, which came with its own baked in homophobia). Knowing themselves abandoned by society in this as in all things, and watching as friends and loved ones died in droves, queers and addicts are two communities who see that they are the only resources that they collectively have to save each other's lives. Queers know that sex, even casual sex, is an important part of people's lives and culture... and people aren't going to stop doing it even if there's a disease, so how can it happen safely? Condoms. Condoms every time, freely available, easy and shameless, shower them on people in the street if you have to. (And other things: this is the origin of the concept of "fluid bonding", for example... both of which were concepts that were immediately adopted in response to COVID, like outdoor socially distsnced greetings and masks and "bubbles." That wasn't an accident. Normalizing sexual health tests and seeing hard results on paper before sex was a thing, too.)

Addicts, too, knew that using was going to happen no matter how earnestly people tried to stop. If it was that easy, addiction wouldn't exist. So: how do you make using safer for longer? If you could stop someone getting HIV before they could bring themselves to get clean, that's a whole life right there. If you could stop someone overdosing once, twice, a dozen times, that's more time you're buying them to claw themselves out of addiction and into a better place. Addicts see, right, needle sharing is getting the diseases spread, so cut down on needle sharing. Well, needles aren't easy to get hold of. Their supply is controlled because people who aren't prescribed needles are theoretically junkies, so taking the needles away makes it harder to use, right— and no one is complicit, and also you see fewer discarded needles lying around where they're unsanitary and unsafe, right? Except that people want to do a buddy a good turn, so they share if there's no other option, and they'll keep a needle going until it's literally too blunt to keep using if need be. So fighting needle sharing means making it easier to get needles to shoot up with: finding a place to discard used ones and get as many fresh ones as you need to use safely!

Making free needles available to junkies and free condoms for the bathhouses was not a popular solution with politicians, for perhaps obvious reasons. Nor was routine testing of the blood supply, because that cost money too. But these things work to stop the spread of disease. Thus the principle of harm reduction: policy interventions in response to communities that frequently engage in risky behavior should focus on whatever reduces aggregate harm by reducing the risk rather than by trying to reduce the behavior. The homos and junkies say look, all your societal judgement in the world hasn't stopped us being homos and junkies yet. You ain't going to look after us? We'll look after our own. And this is the form that takes. Not increasing the pressure to act like people who aren't is, but making it safer to be the people we are while we try to be the happiest versions of ourselves. Even if that means being morally complicit in a whole lot of casual sex and drug abuse.

The thing is, harm reduction is a philosophy rooted in the defiance of people who knew that their society thought they deserved to die painfully, young, invisible and alone. This is not the kind of thing that people come up with and get mad if you adapt it and share it, especially if you tell the story of where it came from. And importantly, harm reduction is not purely the child of addiction: that philosophy, from the get go, was cooked up to apply both to substance abuse and casual sex. It didn't just spread from addiction care; it was born straddling addiction care and queer & feminist health care.

So it doesn't make sense to see actual activists who know harm reduction well complaining that this is a term exhibiting semantic drift when we talk about voting as harm reduction. It's actually a good metaphor: you're reducing the overall risk of the worst case scenario metaphors by voting Democrat, at least until future votes can install a system where multiple parties can flourish on the political scheme. (Democrats and Republicans are essentially coalitions of a pack of arguing factions anyway, and those factions are essentially what would be classed elsewhere as a party in its own right; the US essentially just lumps political granularity rather than splitting it in our political system.) And anyone who understands harm reduction itself knows that.

So it's this wildly inorganic complaint being voiced repeatedly by different sources. Sounds like a pretty good flag for a potential psyop to me.

If you want to learn more about harm reduction and its history, especially from an addiction perspective, I cannot recommend Maia Szalavitz's Undoing Drugs: How Harm Reduction is Changing the Future of Drugs and Addiction (2022) highly enough. Szalavitz has a history of addiction of her own as well as being a clear and accessible writer with an excellent grasp of neuroscience and history. I have a lot of respect for her work.

[roanofarcc]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings. 

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do. 

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting. 

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long. 

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand. 

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused. 

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone. 

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?” 

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up. 

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings. 

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused. 

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.” 

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned. 

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.” 

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows. 

“You don’t want a relationship, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, quickly. 

“But I do.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?” 

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous. 

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.” 

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room. 

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual. 

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day. 

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat. 

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?” 

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.” 

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.” 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t. 

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said. 

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.” 

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.” 

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.” 

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left. 

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.” 

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.” 

That didn’t sound so bad. 

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated. 

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you. 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.” 

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it. 

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said. 

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table. 

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside. 

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you. 

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile. 

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else. 

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.” 

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.” 

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?” 

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate. 

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered. 

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t. 

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks. 

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut. 

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard. 

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently. 

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer. 

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster. 

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly. 

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest. 

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead. 

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated. 

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead. 

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe. 

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious. 

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips. 

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said. 

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?” 

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.” 

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.” 

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.” 

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.” 

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl. 

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down. 

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded. 

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile. 

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?” 

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.” 

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big. 

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.” 

“They’re pretty. Thank you.” 

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it. 

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.” 

You sighed, “But-” 

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.” 

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.” 

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.” 

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level. 

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.”