#sorry i dont remember all their names i was too busy crying
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cobaltfluff · 2 years ago
Text
shovelling roast potatoes into my mouth as i ugly sob over the new nier ep
8 notes · View notes
delimeats-000 · 1 year ago
Text
Can you pay my bills?
summary: cockwarming chris is too distracting.
warnings: smut, language, pp
pairing: chris sturniolo x reader
@strniolosworld❤️
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
i get home from running errands all day.
the guys are always busy and im basically freeloading as chris’ girlfriend so i take care of chores and shit. (women duties yk?(jk please dont come for me))
i drop the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and begin putting things away.
“CHRIS?!” i call him upstairs to help me.
“WHAT?!” he yells back.
“WATCH YOUR MOUTH!! COME HERE AND HELP ME!!”
i hear him stomping up the stairs quickly. he comes up behind me, hand on my waist he kisses my cheek.
“Sorry, ma.” he slaps my ass then begins grabbing shit off the counter and putting it away.
“Alright I gotta go fill out some checks and make some payments, ok?”
“Noooo..” he puts the last item in the pantry and grabs me. pulling me closer he says, “I need yooou.”
“You need me to pay the bills or we wont have internet or water.” i giggle feeling a bulge in his pants pressing against my thigh.
i kiss him softly trying to get out of his grasp.
“Im serious, baby.” he grabs my wrist. “Just let me fuck you, please?” his whining finally gets to me.
“Fuck. Fine, how about I sit on you while I make the payments?”
i watch the smile grow on his face. “Yes please.”
i drag him downstairs to his room and we sit at his desk i open my file cabinet and grab the checks and my address book. (ik it’s old ppl shit but i loooove paying bills on paper)
“Ok baby. Pull down your pants and sit down.”
he excitedly does exactly as i told him. i look at his dick, if i had time i would love to fuck myself on it but right now i’ve got things to do, other than him.
i get right in his face and smash my lips against him. i kiss him roughly for a few more seconds before pulling away to spit right on his cock.
“Shit.” he lets out a whimper.
i pull my pants all the way off slowly, teasing him just a little. he runs both hands across my ass as im bending over.
“You’re so beautiful ma.” he moans out, “Cant wait to feel you around my cock.” without hesitation i line myself up with him before lowering myself onto his length.
i cant help but cry a little, “Shit.”
“You feel so good.” he wraps his arms around me hands landing on both of my breasts, he begins massaging them.
moaning from the feeling i put my hands on top of his, “Don’t distract me, Chris.”
“Sorry, baby.” i can just hear the smug little smile in his voice.
i grab my papers and start filling them out. about 5 minutes go by when i genuinely forget im in his lap with his dick inside me.
as soon as i remember, i feel my walls clench around him. his head rests on my shoulder and he starts kissing down my neck.
“Chris.” i say, trying to ignore how good his lips are making me feel.
“Yes, ma?” he continues kissing.
“Chris you need to stop.”
he stops kissing my neck and instead starts grinding underneath me.
“Fuck.. chris- Chris, stop.”
“Why baby? Feels so good.” i can feel his warm breath against my neck now as he moans out with every movement.
“I know, my love. But I cant focus.”
his hands run up the front of me, from my stomach to my tits then finally his left hand is grasping my throat from behind me.
“Just let me fuck you already.” he harshly thrusts into me once.
“FUCK!! ok ok- fuck fine.”
he picks me up guiding me up and down on his cock. the pace is unreal i can’t even feel my legs at this point. i cant help but scream out his name.
the way he stretches me out hurts but i wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“CHRIS- Fuck, chris!”
“Feels good huh? My big dick making you feel good?” he lets out what’s almost a whisper in my ear before he continues groaning with everything upward thrust.
“Chris, baby. So close fuck.”
“Cum for me baby. Let me feel you cum for me.”
i scream out one last time before finishing all over him, my cum spills out onto his chair underneath us.
“Fuck baby, so good for me. Gonna let me cum in you?”
“Yes please please chris..”
once his name leaves my mouth i feel him twitch then shoot his cum up inside of me.
“Shit.” he says all fucked out, leaning back in his chair.
“You’re gonna have to finish these.”
“Why?” chris jumps back up.
we both moan at the sudden movement.
“Im too tired, Chris.”
“Leave it to Nick.”
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
i honestly hate this so yeah sorry, love you 🫶🏼
551 notes · View notes
mtfstuff · 1 year ago
Text
The desired role
I never thought my life could change this drastically. Let me tell you that I once was a strong and fair cop but I lost all of that quickly without fully realizing what I did. It all started a few months ago on this fateful afternoon.
On that day I was on my patrol, driving around in my police cruiser looking for potential trouble as usual.
Tumblr media
I had gotten a call from a young woman that it seems like a young man is selling himself for sex to other men in a more remote area of the town. I was driving around there to see if I could spit him and I could after a fee minutes of searching. I carefully parked the cruiser and tried to sneak up on them. They were in the back of an alley. I could see the young man wearing skin tight latex from neck to toes. He was getting fucked by an older man with a beer gut while another man demanded the young man to suck his dick. I came closer but one of the older man noticed me and started to run. I quickly started to run towards them, shouting at them to stand still. The second man pushed the young man towards me and started to run away too.
Tumblr media
I catched the young man and could only watch as the two old men ran through a backdoor and closed it. I handcuffed the young man and then walked up to the backdoor, trying to pry it open but to no avail. The thick metal door didnt move a bit. I got back to the young man and looked at him thoroughly. His body from neck to toes was covered in latex, even his hands. The only places free of latex was his crotch area and a hole around his butt. His dick was locked away in a chastity cage. He seemed intimidated by me as he didnt even reach my shoulders.
"Are you even old enough to sell yourself in this 'business'?", I asked him starting to walk him towards the cruiser.
"Is this regarding my size? Yeah I know I look young with my 5' but I can assure you that I'm 26 years old.", he answered cowardly.
"Do you have any ID to back up that claim?"
"No. I lost everything around 4 months ago."
I pushed him into the backseat.
I got into the car on the drivers seat.
"Whats your name?", I asked opening the criminal justice information system.
"Jordan Blight.", he said. I could hear him starting to sob.
I entered his name into the computer and found multiple things about him. It started with him disappearing, followed by multiple offensive crimes.
I exhaled deeply. By the looks of it this guy would now go to prison even though I knew that from the way he looked he wouldnt survive a week there.
Jordan must've had a similar thought as he started crying.
"Please... I'll do anything. I just cant go to prison. Please!", he cried.
"Sorry man, but I cant help you.", I answered looking at him through the rearview mirror.
"Please...", he continued crying. "I'll do anything... do you need sexual relief? I'm supposedly good at it. Do you need someone to talk to? I'm a good listener."
I stayed silent. I felt somewhat pitty for him and his situation.
"Do you need someone to get drugs? I know some who have them.", he continued.
I looked at him concerned.
"Or do you want me as an insider? Or should I be your slave?"
I subconsciously moved an eyebrow and unfortunatly Jordan noticed it.
"What was it? The insider or the slave?", he asked with a grin.
I cleared my throat.
"How did you get in your situation? I mean I wouldnt choose to walk around in a latex suit covering everything but my head, dick and ass.", I asked.
"Changing the subject, I see.", he snickered. "I was drugged by some I considered friends. They stripped me, put me in this latex suit and cock cage. They also made sure that I dont get out by welding the zipper fully into the suit. They then brought me here, into a city I dont know to make me a sex slave. And they succeeded. I got addicted to sex and drugs over the last few months. It feels like I know more about the taste of dicks and cum than real food. It feels like I dont even remember how it feels to wear something else than latex."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I - I dont even know what to say.", I said.
"Say if it was the slave or the insider.", he laughed.
"Neither. Just a weird thought I sometimes have."
"Tell me about it."
I felt torn. He had the right appearance for my weird wish but he was just a stranger, even more a stranger I've just arrested. But I still had this feeling that I could tell him.
"Since I was in pre-school I was the tallest guy and even without working out I was pretty muscular.", I said. "And I dont know why as my family isnt tall at all. Since then I started to get this wish, to feel small. Even get somewhat humiliated."
It was a weird silence.
"I didnt see that coming.", Jordan said. "You, this hunk of a good looking man, wants to be humiliated. You want to be in my position?"
"Yeah, I do.", I said. "I just want to know how it feels."
"Well, I'd do anything to not go to prison but I dont know how much I could humiliate you."
He chuckled.
"I mean I'm 5' and you're like 6'3.", he added.
"6'5 to be precise.", I said. "I could have something that would change this situation. Only if you're down for it."
"I'd be doing it if it means that I wont go to prison, so yeah. Tell me, what is it you have."
I moved around in my seat, fearing his reaction to what I would tell him.
"I have a body swap item with me.", I told him.
He bursted out into laughs. It was almost contagious. Almost.
He slowly caught himself again.
"You cant be serious!", he looked at me. "Oh shit, you're serious."
"I dont know if it works but it could be your way out of prison if you do it with me for a short time. Its said to be reversible so we'd swap back after that session of ours.", I said.
He thought about it for a moment.
"Sure, why not. I always wondered how it felt to have a body as incredible as yours."
"Then its a deal.", I started the engine and drove us to an even more remote area of the city.
When we arrived I turned off the cruiser and got out. I opened the trunk of the cruiser and took a strange needle out of it. I closed it and opened Jordan's door. I pulled him out and pushed him into an abandoned alleyway.
I unlocked his handcuffs and he rubbed his wrists.
"So how does this work?", Jordan asked.
"We have to prick a finger each with this.", I held the needle in front of him. "Then the pricked tips have to touch and then we swap or transform into each other. That wasnt fully clear."
"Then lets do it.", he answered.
I took one of his fingers and pricked the tip. He let out a slight gasp. Then I pricked my finger and held it up. He pressed his finger against mine and I immediately felt a weird sensation, as if a force was pulling my whole body from my finger.
Jordan musst have felt it himself as he pulled his hand away. I looked at him and noticed that he started to grow, not just in height but also in terms of muscles. His latex suit got pulled thinner and thinner before it finally ripped in multiple places. The scraps of latex fell to the ground, revealing Jordans new muscular body that was still growing. I could immediately see that his muscles looked like mine. Jordan marveled at his new body, already smelling his armpits or feeling his abs. I looked down at his dick to see if it was growing too and it did. It was already straining against the cage before the cage sprung open and fell to the ground. Jordan's dick was the spitting image of mine and it was rock hard.
Jordan was almost the same height as me now and only his face looked different. A beard stubble was starting to grow on his cheeks as his bone structure started to morph into mine. His hair grew shorter and his eye color changed. It took only a few seconds and it was as if I was looking into a mirror. A naked mirror.
"This is incredible!", Jordan said feeling his biceps. "We could be twins right now! But shouldnt you look like me?"
"Yeah, I thought I would transform too but until now I only have this strange feeling.", right then the feeling changed and I started to shrink. While shrinking my uniform felt heavier and the gun holster looser every second and suddenly my pants, including my boxers, fell to the ground. My jacket and vest were huge on me, my hands didnt even stick out of the sleeve anymore and my dick was hidden behind the vest but I could feel how hard it was. It was almost painful.
I looked at Jordan and he had a huge grin on his face.
"Your manly face on my body wearing a uniform thats to big for you is just a funny sight to behold.", he said not letting go of his new muscles.
I started to feel my face change. The receding beard as well as the quickly growing hair tickled. With a faint plop I could hear my bones change and then the feeling vanished.
"Looks like I'm the officer now.", Jordan said.
He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. I could feel my socks and boots slip off my feet before I felt the cold ground beneath my butt. Jordan had dropped me.
"Man this strength is crazy!", he exclaimed.
I coughed a few times, trying to get my throat to feel normal again.
Jordan grabbed my arms and quickly pulled the rest of the uniform off of my body. I was now sitting on the cold floor completely naked.
Jordan dropped the vest, jacket and undershirt. I could hear him breathing heavily.
"I havent worn real clothes for months.", I could hear him say to himself.
He picked up my boxers from my pants and looked at them in his hands. He quickly smelled them and let out a quiet moan before carefully slipping his legs through them. He pulled them up to his hips and took his time to position his new big dick in a comfortable place.
It looked like Jordan quickly forgot about me because of the uniform.
He continued by pulling my socks out of my boots before pulling them over his feet and muscular calves. He wiggled his toes and giggled.
He grabbed the undershirt and pulled it over his broad chest. I marveled at how great it fit him. I now saw that I truly knew how to show off my body.
He removed the gun holster from the belt before stepping into the pants. He closed the belt and added the holster back.
He grabbed the jacket and quickly put it on before adding the vest onto his torso.
The last thing left were the boots. He seemed to almost celebrate this. He grabbed them and slowly unlaced them. He relished stepping into them, I could see it. He tied them again and took a few steps.
"This feels so good. Wearing real clothes, a uniform even. And then wearing shoes again. No more barefoot in latex.", he said.
Standing before me really was the spitting image of me, officer Stephen Benson. An officer with a bright future, thinking about how he could do anything as me now made my dick even harder.
Tumblr media
"What are you going to do with me, officer?", I asked trying to get his attention.
He helped me up before pushing me face first against the wall.
"You can be more than lucky I got my uniform back. Impersonating an officer is a serious crime!", he said.
I felt him rubbing his crotch against my back.
"That was all just a big misunderstanding sir!", I answered.
I suddenly felt how he put the handcuffs around my wrists on my back.
"Misunderstanding or not, you're going to jail.", he said.
I got nervous, was he just roleplaying or taking over my life. I wanted to be submissive but I didnt want to go to jail. The thought of him taking over made me even harder. My dick was pressing so hard against the dirty brick wall.
"You're lucky as I'm in need of sexual relief.", he turned me around to face him. "And you may not go to jail if you go down and do a thing for me."
Jordan had a devilish grin on my old face. I went down and he immediately pushed my face into my old crotch. I could smell the fabric as well as the stench of my old sweat. But most of all I could feel the outline of the beast inside the pants that was once mine.
He continued pressing my face into his crotch.
"Worship me. Worship my muscles and uniform!", he said.
I couldnt answer because my face was pushed so hard against his crotch but I managed to move my hands behind my back to get his attention there.
He bent himself over me to unlock one side of the handcuffs again.
I immediately moved my hands to his firm butt and squeezed it. My hands slowly ran down his legs, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric every time he flexed his legs. I knew that it should be wrong, worshipping your real body but it just felt so good.
My hands went down further, now slightly massaging his calves before I ran my hands over my combat boots he now wore. Touching the leather felt surprisingly good so I kept working on his feet. That combined with inhaling the musk of my old crotch and uniform felt intoxicating.
"Take it out and suck it!", I heard Jordan order with my old deep voice.
It sent chills down my spine knowing that I sounded like that before but now I wasnt in control of it or any other part of that body.
I opened the belt and pants and pulled out his dick. It was more than massive from my point of view and it was already throbbing and leaking pre-cum.
I opened my mouth and Jordan saw that as his opportunity to push the full 8 inches down my throat. I thought that I would have to throw up but this body had like no gag reflex anymore. I continued sucking on my old dick while Jordan controlled my speed by having his hands behind my head.
It felt weird and at first I didnt knew what to do but it only took a few seconds before the muscle memory kicked in and I started sucking like a pro. I could feel the veins pulsate in sync with Jordan's heartbeat. I used my tongue to play with it and I heard Jordan moan every now and then.
He suddenly grabbed my head more tightly before I felt his dick erupting in my mouth. I immediately started to swallow and tasted cum for the first time. The salty but still somewhat sweet taste was weird at first but it felt more normal with every string Jordan shot into my mouth.
"Dont spill.", he said panting.
I swallowed everything before he pulled me to my feet again. He turned me around again and I could immediately feel him running his dick along my ass. He pushed it in without warning but it didnt hurt at all.
"Damn, my hole was loose.", Jordan said. "I have more to give to you."
He pounded me hard but it still turned me on more. Knowing that the roles would be reversed in reality. I should be the muscular officer and Jordan should be this twink but right now I was living my phantasy.
His thrusts changed pace and I could feel how he prepared to unleash another load into me. He pushed me tight against the wall, his hands on my hips as I felt him shooting his warm and slimy masculine seed up my ass.
He pulled out and I felt him wiping off his dick on my butt cheeks.
I was covered in sweat but it felt great to have been used like this and I bet Jordan loved being a muscular officer too.
I was awaiting that he would unlock the handcuffs again so that we could swap back but he suddenly grabbed me with full force by my neck and threw me to the ground.
"You let something drip out of your ass!", he said firmly pointing at his feet. "Go on and clean my awesome combat boots."
I got on my knees and licked the cum off of my old boot. It tasted just like before, only that it had now dirt mixed into it. I was almost done licking as I felt a few finger intrude my butt. Jordan pulled them out again and tasted it.
"Damn man, this body tastes good.", he said.
Suddenly we both looked intensely at each other knowing exactly what caused it. It felt like a damn broke in our minds. My mind got flooded with the memories of Jordan and he probably got access to my memories.
"This- this changes everything!", he said.
He pulled me up.
I cleared my throat to sound manlier.
"Are you ready to change back? There are spare clothes in the trunk of the cruiser you can wear after that.", I said.
"No man.", he said.
"What do you mean, no?"
He pushed me against the wall again.
"You wanted to be me. You wanted to be humiliated and I agreed to escape prison.", he flashed me a quick smile. "But I'm the man now. I have the muscles. I wear the uniform. We'll do this my way now."
"But- but you cant just be a cop and do my job. I cant stay like this."
"You enjoyed being like this."
He gestured to my small, hard and slightly leaking dick.
"And I more than enjoyed being you.", he continued. "You have two options now, 'Jordan'. Keep complaining about swapping back and I'll send you to prison. Or get into the car and be me."
I stared at him in shock.
"It's Thursday, right?", he asked.
"Yes."
"Then lets make a deal. We stay like this till Sunday. If you then still want to swap back we'll do it. If you want us to stay like this we'll stay."
"Deal!"
He grabbed my balls tightly and I let out a loud, uncontrolled moan. He laughed.
"Good. I still have to be on my patrol for 2 more hours. So I'll leave you here. You wanted to be humiliated so you have to make a choice. Stay here until I come back to get you or look around searching for clothes. But if you do, time is running. I wont wait here for you when I'm finshed.", he said.
He laughed again and walked to the cruiser. He stepped into the driver seat, started the engine and left.
Only then I noticed that Jordan managed to place his old chastity cage on my dick.
I didnt fully understand how it got this far but I felt good. The humiliation was everything I always wanted but I still felt the urge to get my body back. I was excited to see what the last few days would bring.
904 notes · View notes
bahrtofane · 8 months ago
Text
i dont want to leave
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-----
When Jude finds himself slipping from your life. He chooses to leave it completely, for your sake. 
Jude x reader 
Word count - 700+
Watch it - angst angst and angst 
-----
Judes first appearance to your modest little apartment in months turns into him begging and pleading for you to find someone better. 
Someone who doesn't make you wait all day for a reply, someone who isnt in 3 time zones in one day, someone who has time.
Jude has many things, many luxuries and commodities that fill his home and surround his daily life. Fame and fortune that follow him, recognition. Riches.  
Time is not one of them. between games just about every other day, events and press appearances, media days and content recording. He is exhausting every second of his day.
He knows he's not making enough time for you. And now he's begging for you to move on  
Sitting cross legged on your couch, in red and black plaid pj pants and a hoodie he grabbed from his hamper. He made his way to you as soon as he could. Even if it meant after doing a virtual interview from his room, he grabbed his wallet and keys, sprinting out the door.
“Please…” he tries again. His eyes droop and he can not pick them up to face you. Can not meet your gaze. His eye bags look horrid and his skin is taking on a sickly sheen you saw last when he came down with the flu. 
You shake your head, “Jude. listen to what you're saying. You want me to leave because you're busy?”
“I'm saying I'm not good to or for you. I'm never around. I barely reply. I forget things. I never know what you're up to or what's going on. Im shit. And you don't deserve that.” he tries again, keeping his head down and picking at his nails. 
“But I love you. Busy or not.” you sigh.
“And I love you. So much that you have to let me go.” 
“I don't want to leave you,” you cross your arms.
He rubs his eyes. Its been back and forth like this for what feels like an hour now. This will get nowhere if he simply lets this continue. 
He slides a leg from under him, swinging it against your couch, “then I will.”
Your face morphs into one of pain, but he knows you can't keep living like this. He can't keep making false promises and hurting you. No matter how many times you say it's okay. He was late to your birthday for fucks sake. He doesn't know your friends names, do you even still watch that show? He's losing who you are and it's no one's fault but his own. 
He scoots to you, gently taking your hands in his, “I know you'll find someone who treats you the way you need. And I'm sorry I couldn't.”
Tears begin to swell in your eyes, lip trembling as you shake your head, “you can't,” you cry out weakly. But it's too late. 
“I'm sorry,” he whispers, getting up from his seat and gently closing the door behind him, with a little too much force than intended.
The little framed picture of the two of you that hangs on the wall next to the door shakes and wobbles. It only makes you cry harder. 
You remember that day. He took you to the fair, buying you all the stupid food you could ever want. (the deep fried ice cream gave you a run for your money in the bathroom). He won every prize at those silly games. Even if it took him 50 tries and a whole lotta cash to do so. 
There was a little man walking around with a polaroid camera. A sign reading “$2 for a picture” painted in bright green lettering hanging from an old withered string around his neck.
You took 4. 
Your favorite, the one on the wall, stares back at you mockingly. Hands held together while your heads are thrown back, soft yellow and pink light from the ferris wheel behind you painting your faces. You'll need to take that down you suppose.
You want to scream, but instead only tears fall. Can he see he's the one that's meant for you? Busy or not, forgetful, tired, moody, cranky. You love him through it all. Can he see that?
You try to call him, blinking away the tears as you fish your phone from your pocket.  Pressing on the screen harshly and putting it on speaker, but they all go to voicemail. You suppose that's that.
His first visit in months. And he's never coming back. 
242 notes · View notes
glitterforashes · 4 months ago
Note
Hey, idk if you’re still active but if you are could you do Larry HC please!
𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ; 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
>>>>> heyyy chat so contrary to popular belief i am indeed alive (but barely) and upon remembering i do have a page and multiple people who would like to hear from me i decided to drop a lil single iykwim 🔥. no but on a srs note im sorry for disappearing and I hope u enjoy! thank you for requesting, lovely <3
is the modern day Bob Ross
has so many pairs of jeans with paint and pen marks all over them
regularly walks around with a blunt tucked behind his ear
is actually the sweetest dude ever
is way smarter than you’d think he is
regularly asks to paint you, only to end up painting something completely different
walks you to your classes at school (on accident. you always end up crossing paths and then he starts yapping and forgets you two dont have the same classes and proceeds to have to sprint to make it to his own class on time)
yall first met through the elevator. you were waiting for it, and the doors opened, and he was inside with earbuds in very aggressively playing an air-guitar solo. stood up straight the second he realized you were there and then refused to speak or look at you for the elevator ride. was so embarrassed he wanted to cry. he told Sally about it. Sally laughed at him so hard he started coughing.
you started seeing him around more often after that, and you two became friends
your name in his phone is “Blink” because when you first met all you did was stare at him then blink very slowly.
his name in your phone is “Master of Puppets”. i will not be elaborating
you spend a lot of time in his apartment
his mom has stopped asking if you’ll be over, just asks when so she knows if she needs to make extra supper.
he steals YOUR clothes. if you accidentally leave a tshirt at his place you’ll never see it again
stares unblinkingly at you sometimes. it freaks you out.
“larry. im about to poke you in the eye.”
“oh, my bad dude.”
you two have a best-friends-that-get-asked-if-they’re-dating-constantly-and-say-no-but-would-also-marry-each-other kind of friendship
is a rememberer. remembers every little thing you tell him. you like apples? there will be apples at his place next time for you. you dont like being cold? he turns his ceiling fan off when you come around.
is very attentive, but nobody would ever know because he never comments on what he sees.
you signed him up for Homecoming King elections one year. he did NOT find it as funny as you did.
he won.
the popular kids were pissed.
he was pissed.
you laughed your ass off.
has LED’s in his room. they’re always blue or red.
paints his nails
tried to pierce his own ears once. it didn’t work. he showed up at your door with a stud earrings poking through his earlobe and blood running down his neck.
“larry what the freak did you do.”
“earrings :(“
likes to cuddle once he gets more comfortable with you
if you two are sitting on the couch together, his arm is permanently over the back of it and by default around you in a way
manspreads like no other. its so annoying.
actually is a gentleman and very considerate
doesn’t ever flirt with you too hard or initiate physical touch, lets you do it to avoid making you uncomfortable
is playful
“larry, you’re standing too close.” “scared you’re gonna fall in love?” “you wish.”
once you two are very comfortable around each other he’ll come up behind you and rest his chin on your shoulder or on top of your head and slink his arms around your waist real lazily.
“whatcha doin?” “minding my business.”
at first, if you stayed the night, he’d sleep on the floor despite your protests and let you sleep in his bed.
now you two share his bed, and occasionally wake up with your legs tangled together.
loves being little spoon even though he would never tell anybody but you that fact.
bagel bite enthusiast.
larry chucked a sweater at you as you sat on his bed, poised and rigid, trying to be a good model for his still-life portrait of you. “what’s this for?” you asked. although majority of his body was hidden behind the canvas, you could see the slight movements of his arms and shoulders as he moved the paint brush across the scene. “you’re shivering.” he stated shortly, clearly in focus mode. although you didn’t know how he could manage to focus so diligently with Sanity Falls blaring from his record player and filling every crevice of the room.
“sorry.” you said, quickly tugging the sweater on then re-assuming your previous pose. you didn’t know why you agreed to model for him every time he asked. zero out of ten times has the portrait ever actually turned out to be a portrait of you. once, he literally made you pose for an hour just to end up painting a picture of himself riding a unicorn. you were pretty sure he had smoked a little more than his body weight could handle that day. his brown eyes peeked from over the canvas every so often, observing you, which you didn’t mind. larry had probably seen more of your body than you cared to admit, or realize, considering you two felt more than comfortable changing in front of each other and sleeping with just tshirts and underwear on in the same room.
it felt like hours had passed before you saw larry rise from his seat on the stool, his knees and elbows popping loudly as he stretched. “alright. the genius has concluded his work.” he smirked, glancing at you through his lashes. “larry, i don’t even think you know how to spell concluded.” you teased as you followed his lead, standing and stretching and groaning as your muscles began to loosen again.
“so, what creature did you paint this time?” you walked towards him but he grabbed the canvas and held it close to him, squinting his eyes at you. “uhm, you can’t see it.” he said sassily. “uhm, ‘i cant see it’ my left nut! i just sat and posed for two hours dude, let me see!” you advanced on him and reached your hand out to grab the canvas but he ducked away, extending an arm out to keep you at a distance. “okay! fine, but you have to stand there,” he pointed to a spot a few steps away, “and close your eyes.”
you pursed your lips and rolled your eyes, putting your hands on your hips as you dramatically took a few steps back and closed your eyes. “gosh, how atrocious could it be if i need to close my eyes first?” you said. usually, he’d chuckle or laugh, but he didn’t this time. you heard some rustling and then a beat of silence before he said, “okay, open them.”
you opened your eyes and your hands immediately flung to your mouth, covering it as your eyes widened. in front of you was larry, in all his messy-haired, paint-splattered-jean, muscle tank top glory holding a painting of you. a hyper-realism painting of you. he managed to fit *every* detail into it, capturing every dip and curve and mark on your face. the painting only went from your shoulders and up, but that alone had you on the verge of tears.
“larry..” you mumbled, taking a step forward to examine it closer. he even managed to note the small freckles you had, so small that you forgot you even had them sometimes. “do you like it?” he asked quietly, his demeanor starting to change from nervous to insecure. “yes!” you said quickly. “yes, yes i love it! it’s beautiful.” you said. you stepped forward and took the painting gently from his hands and placed it on the easel before launching your arms around his nape, falling into an easy hug as he wrapped his arms loosely around your waist and rested his cheek on top of your head.
“thank you.” you said quietly, resting your head on his shoulder. “you’re welcome.” you two stood like that for a bit, neither of you ready nor feeling the need to break the hug, when you felt him mumbling against your hair. “huh?” you said. he lifted his chin and repeated, “c-o-n-c-l-u-d-e-d. concluded.”
one, two, three beats of silence before you were giggling and slapping his shoulder, looking up at his smug and smiling face. “oh whatever! you probably googled that. that’s why you told me to close my eyes.” “oh you wish! don’t be bitter cause im smarter than you.” “you could only dream of being smarter than me.” you smiled, shaking your head with laughter. your laughter turned into a lazy grin as you rocked your bodies side to side, looking at his face. “seriously, thank you.” “no problem.” he said. you turned your head away from him to glance behind you at the painting. it wasn’t until then that you noticed a very small, very enthusiastic stick-figure rendition of larry in the corner of the canvas holding up a flower. you decided you wouldn’t tell him you noticed as you smiled again, wondering how you managed to make a friend like him.
58 notes · View notes
lynn-tged-posting · 3 months ago
Text
tged webtoon ep 156 spoilers and thoughts below the cut yeah yeah yeah
.
.
.
.
I DONT KNOW WHY BUT I THINK THE WAY HE SITS BACK HERE IS REALLY SILLY HEEHEE
Tumblr media
also if the panels are slightly blurry uuuuuh no they're not dont worry abt it
ok back to the top bc holy shit this chapter made me crazy again
OF ALL THE CHARACTERS I COULD HAVE EXPECTED A RETURN OF. IT WAS NOT LUPELLAN
Tumblr media Tumblr media
HOLY FUCKING SHIT I REALLY THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THAT GUY CAUSE YKNOW. DEAD. BUT HERE WE ARE AHHHH ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER
Tumblr media
and ohhh god the restoration of fate kicking in alongside all of this is insane ,, , god it might even happen sooner depending on how quickly they kick their plans into gear ,,, also this guy (forgot his name LMFAO) looks downright terrifying
i wonder how they'll go about it actually,,, especially since alicia has already had a dose of that like, dark magic paranoia poison back when she raided targa's castle. will she be able to combat what their planning,,, do they know she had been poisoned before? probably not, right? ooohhh im so curious to know,,,,,,,
ANYWAY AHH LLOYD AND JAVIER AHHHHHH AAAHHHH
Tumblr media Tumblr media
LLOYD GETTING. EMOTIONAL OVER FINALLY BEING CLOSE TO GETTING THE ANSWERS HE NEEDS BUT THEN IMMEDIATELY PUSHING PAST IT GGGHHHRRRRR GGGG IM BITING MY HAND IM BITING MY HAND
he's finally so close . he's so close to being able to permanently protect this place that he loves so dearly . ooohhhghhh hhhhh . he's gotta pursue and continue to the end god im shaking him
AND THEN JAVIER BEING FOND OF HIM
Tumblr media Tumblr media
im so sorry i dont have a lot of brilliant things to say im just. KICKING MY FEET ROLLING ON THE FLOOR IM. AAAHHHH my singular Analysis braincell hasn't kicked in yet sorry
sorry okay if i just post panels and scream i wont actually get anywhere but i REALLY liked the oneliners/jokes in this episode specifically got me giggling my ass off
AND LLOYD BEING A FUCKING SCHEMER TOO YOU ASSHOLE /AFF
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TOP TIER ACTOR WHAT THE HELLL HAHAHAHA HIS SMUG ASS FACE
i remember seeing a post on twt about the episode preview and it was this left frame of lloyd crying and i was like "WTF FULLY EMOTIONAL MOMENT WITH LLOYD??" BUT NO ITS JUST HIM BEING CONNIVING AS USUAL LMAO
and javier's reaction HAHAHAHAHAHAA
Tumblr media
OH ANDNDD AND AND MY FAV PART OF THIS EP
Tumblr media Tumblr media
shaking crying at the way they look at each other oh my god . javier fully understanding lloyd . that the outcome lloyd wants isnt just one that benefits himself or the estate, but one that satisfies everyone,,, theyre on the same page they want the same thing a good ending for everyone they love im gonna lose my fucking MARBLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE PROTAGONISTS EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRR
AND AND ANDD THE CALLUSES ON LLOYDS HANDS. IM. SHAKING CRYING AND JAVIER'S EXPRESSION AT HIS HANDS AAHHH AAA
Tumblr media
lloyd saying this n that about being pragmatic and yet there's this blatant fucking evidence that he's been working so hard and so long for the most idealistic, best results for the people he cares about and the people he comes across no matter what . "pragmatic" and he's going about things in a long, constructive and taxing process all so that he can fight fate while also saving people instead of realistically accepting the permanence of it . this is so poorly worded but i hope u understand HOW INSANE THIS MAKES MEEE and javier catches this for sure the fucker im shaking him
Tumblr media
AND THEIR GOD DAMN HIGH FIVE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"business relationship" I THINK NOT! Y'ALL HIGH FIVE'D!!! AAHHAFDLKJSDFHAHHAHAHAHAHA IM GONNA THROW UP /POS
THIS MADE ME SO FUCKING EMOTIONAL FOR SOME REASON I. GHGHGHHGHGHGHGHH the first high five they share im gonna fall apart into ten billion pieces
i said this on twt but like. if anyone suggests a high five irl i think i'm actually gonna just bawl in front of them i'm so serious llovier is a fucking plague
Tumblr media
and their second one about the hellgate was really cute/funny LMFAOOO
this ep had me giggling and wiggling around like a fucking millipede i loved this so much HEHEHEHE
i think this is just abt the beginning of the end of the truth jewel arcs,,, god i wonder what the jewel will say!!! PRAYING that it says fate can be fought bc if it says "lol nah u cant" the devastation and anguish that would follow would be INSANE i wouldnt be able to take it. id stop reading right then and there /j
AND LUPELLAN AND THAT OTHER GUY WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO TO ALICIA OH GODDDD
anyway that's all for now ,,,, i will see u next week, ,,,, or whenever i make my next shitpost,,,,!!!! end post!!!!!!!!!!
21 notes · View notes
neptunezines · 1 year ago
Text
you exist to me even when youre not here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i wrote this about one of my friends who has had a couple mental health scares while living states away from me. your friends care about you and worry about you !! <3
image IDs are sorted from top to bottom and left to right, five images (sorry for length):
image 1: A single sheet folded zine. The cover of the zine. It reads "you exist to me even when you're not here". there is a drawing of a sad looking frog and a phone with multiple unanswered texts.
image 2: The first and second pages of the zine. Page one reads "the people you grow up with will eventually move away, or you will. it's just a fact of life. and we have to get used to our friends moving states away with seemingly no warning, or we have to leave our friends behind" The top of the page has drawings of luggage and the bottom has a crying frog being left behind by a car. Page two continues, "but we adapt, learn to live without our best friend and move on in life, and we start to think that maybe they had forgotten about us by now. because who could ever remember us, our old friend is hanging out with people they like more than they ever did us, and are too busy being happy that we are too busy being happy that we are gone to spare a single second missing us. we probably dont even exist to them." Drawings of stick figures cross the page, and one of them has a thought bubble with a crossed out frog in it.
image 3: The second and third pages of the zine. The text spans across both pages, and says "well, you're wrong! we think about you all the time. we wonder... are you okay? ...are you safe? ...are you alive?" Most of the spread is covered in questions about the friend's life and wellbeing in small text.
image 4: The fourth and fifth pages of the zine. Page four says "you might not be near us anymore, but that doesnt mean that we forgot about you! don't ever start thinking that you can let yourself fall apart, because we will always be here for you and we are always worried about your wellbeing. nothing will ever prepare you for a long distance friendship, but miles of land and water will never make us like you any less!" There is a smiling frog in the middle of the page with a thought bubble that says "you". hearts fill the bubble and surround the frog. Page five says "you exist to me even when you're not here" in large font.
image 5: The backpage of the zine. There is a drawing of a frog's face, and underneath it says "hi, my name is max! want to see more? instagram and tumblr: neptunezines April 8th, 2023"
87 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 1 year ago
Note
Talk about your moots; what do you like most about them (could be a paragraph or a single sentence, spread the love!!)
omgomg okay lets do this guys. just know i luv every single one of you and without any of you i would not be where i am rn today!! i'm sorry if u were not included its prob bcuz we haven't interacted much yet but i also suck at communicating lmaosdjfldjkkfds i really do not deserve any of you istg
@ylliris-hanniehae - ylli is so sweet n comforting :(( like she's been with me since almost the beginning of me posting on tumblr here and she's been so supportive ever since!! i love the conversations that we have together and she really feels like a little sister to me!! she deserves all the happiness in the world fr
@fairyhaos - yena was the first person i asked to be moots with on here LOL and i remember being like "omfg should i send the ask should i send it" and well i don't regret it one bit!! she's so bubbly and sweet and i will never not say this- she always puts on smile on my face as well as everyone elses!! her fics are also soo comforting and so creative i love it sm
@etherealyoungk - skye is SOO lovely like i remember the moment she liked my mingyu fic and me freaking out like I RECOGNISE THAT NAME RIGHT THERE and i dont regret asking to be moots with her!! i love when she checks in with not just me but everyone else around her she's just so sweet n caring :(( i also love when we randomly scream abt different dramas together lmaoo
@slytherinshua - zanna and i just clicked like a snap the moment we started talking and istg she's so entertaining and funny like there's never a dull moment talking to her!! i love screaming about park jihoon and kdramas w her!! she’s also introduced to so many new groups i’m grateful for that. i also adore our late night music sessions and when we watch dramas together and cry and laugh and just everything
@mirxzii - roxie deserves all the happiness n love and she's so supportive n so silly too !! also i think she's soo relatable w some of the stuff she has said lmaoo it's so goofy and she's also been with me since the very beginning and i very much thank her for that
@rubywonu - nia i miss her so much she's been busy w school so we haven't been able to talk a lot so everyone SEND LOVE TO HER RN. i remember silently gushing abt the love series she made with svt members and being moots and getting to know her i see she's so sweet n chill but ik she got that lil chaotic side to her
@icyminghao - noelle every time i interact w her i just have this giddy smile on my face like its so refreshing to talk to her!! she's busy these days cuz of exams so everyone PLS send love to her too. shes so sweet n i lLOVE it when she screams in caps its the most hilarious thing ever
@wqnwoos - hana her writing istg literally the best thing ever?? its like so delicate but also gets me giggling n kicking my feet fr HAHA like i love it sm. she's such a sweet n chill person to interact with i really hope that i could talk to her more. i also love the poems and words that she reposts because YES i see them it reminds of those poem slideshows on tiktok that either got me crying or the most relatable thing ever
@hannyoontify - kie is so lovely i really hope i can talk to her more!! she's just so sweet n nice n very supportive! also shes like a drum major so hella kudos to her for that such a hardworking queen fr!! i can't wait to interact w her more because ik she's a very fun person to talk to
@toruro - mika i still don't understand how i managed to be moots w her like i admire her sm!! her writing never fails to amaze me like i NEED her brain rn and shes just so pretty?? will never deny that i have a platonic crush on her lmaoo!! and whenever we talk it feels very comfortable and natural it kinda reminds me of catching up with a friend over coffee tbh
@kyeomyun - jada is SOO LOVELY N SUPPORTIVE i always love seeing her pop up in my notifs or inbox and when we scream at each other sometimes LMAO. she's just such a very fun person to talk and i hope we can have more one on one conversations w each other bcuz ik for a fact we're both gonna be screaming over SOMETHING
@blue-jisungs - axe is SO funny and bright and whenever she pops up in my notifs it literally brightens my day sm. like she's just soo infectious that i just can't help but smile?? also she loves kdramas so i hope one day we can scream at each other abt it because YES. her nails and hair are also slay ik for a fact she rocks anything
28 notes · View notes
Note
hi potato!!! omg im not sure if we're mutual yet but i love your art a whole lot!!!!💗💗💗💗 and you're also in brba/bcs fandom too?? that's awesome!!! hiii!! do you perhaps have a brbabcs oc? I'd love to know!
(or, if you dont have, maybe you want to make it..? 👀 abby can them can be friends...)
hey there! yeah im a huge fan of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, but not really active in this fandom… i typically just lurk around, reblog and enjoy the silly memes on YouTube. if i feel inspired, i’ll just draw the characters (mostly jimmy & kim cuz im so normal about them ) and then bail. my squishy brain can't stay in one fandom for too long, it's always jumping around to another new interest. im glad you like my art ❤️ you got a beautiful drawings too!
oo your ask inspired me to create an OC for BCS/BRBA! here she is! her name is Joy
Tumblr media
she doesn't have much details and backstory yet, but im planning to flesh her out more if im not busy with other things.
with how messed up the brbabcs world can be, figured that putting my OC as a Los Pollos Hermanos employee would fit right in. she’s also Lyle’s close friend! let’s just hope she doesn't face as much tragedy as the other characters lmao
gonna put on read more for the question about being mutuals because this post is already long ⬇️
[shaking and crying rn i hope i don’t upset anyone..]
so.. uhm im very picky about who i actually follow & follow back because i need to limit it for the sake for my dashboard. preferably id have to REALLY like and rather follow blogs that i vibe & familiar with the contents that i want to see than something… i dont really want to look at 🙏 this is just how i curate my experience
in general, i also dont feel comfortable with others dming me personal things and it feels anxiety-inducing. unless it’s a specific topic like art discussion about drawing tips, ocs design, request, art trades, collab and maybe commission
im SO SORRY 🙏 🙏 it’s nothing personal i swear, really! and im letting yall know that i will always recognize and remember all the people who consistently ✨ like and reblog ✨my stuff and you're all honorary mutuals to me even if i don't follow you back and i appreciate you all sm!!! <3 i go bounce bounce seeing everyone being super sweet in my notif
if yall interact often and you’re super nice in the notific you’re already a mutual for me! 🩷 sending me question and art suggestion never bothers me! i love to talk, get to know and interact more with people in this lovely app! :)
thanks for the question!
4 notes · View notes
sukirichi · 6 months ago
Note
suki... you dont know how excited i am when you said you are still going to continue dtd 😭 everytime i when thru my following list and i saw you, i always get sad because you havent update ever since you left. and its been 2 years? almost? idk. AND SUDDENLY TODAY YOU CAME BACK 😭 i swear im going to cry. im so hapoy that you are back and going to continue writing for dtd. i hope you are always well and may good things come to you bae.
dtd!!!!! omg. im so?? excited to see how suna is going to act now that yn knew his relationship with that girl(i forgot her name i need to reread it!!) and how suna needs an heir obviously later on. i remember, kind of, you saying yn doesnt want to have a baby now that she knows but she still going to have it(?) I DONT REMEMBER. but like yeah. ANGST. but im hoping for a happy ending tho... or at least i want yn to be happy. because everything about her makes me sad. she found happiness in suna because she had no one and now she is back to having no one.
anon 🥺 i know, i’m so sorry about that. i remember i said i would update dtd on ao3 even as i left my blog, but i just got so busy with work and uni that i just didn’t have much time or energy to work on it :(
i’m happy to be back, too! i missed you guys a lot and i think, after that two year break, my head’s been clearer because i see dtd in a sorta different, more positive light now. as in i feel like i can write it better this time around <3 and i’m excited to share it with you guys 🥺 thank you for the well wishes, too, i’ve been good for the most part and i hope many good things come your way as well 💕
hehe, her name is iris, and its okay, i forgot much of dtd too and had to reread the prev chaps and all my notes to pick up where i left off LMAO. but yes you’re right, yn doesn’t want a baby with rin atp!
‘she found happiness in suna because she had no one and now she is back to having no one.’ why you gotta hurt me like that, anon 😔 /lh. but that’s true, though. regardless of who she ends up with, or if she ends up with anyone at all, i can guarantee that she does find her happiness at the end <3
4 notes · View notes
commanderquinn · 1 year ago
Text
Good Space Chapter 3: Hey Gringo
Tumblr media
! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!
that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh
master list / ao3 chapter link
warnings: ayyy!! none this time!! unless you wanna count Highly Disrespectful Thoughts ❤️ tho!!! the flashbacks are shuri, heads up for anyone who is a big baby (like me) and still crying over WF. also (shocker) bucko angst/panic attacks
song: it KALEO time!! istg there are golden oldies and hippie classics on this intended playlist, we just havent gotten to them yet. this choice is mega self-indulgent on my end ngl, buuuuut thats the whole fic in general lbr (side note: every time i write Angy Ava, i want you to imagine the vocal intensity of jefferson airplane’s lead singer, grace slick)
the timing of this chapter could NOT have been better with the probably-russian hackers knocking out ao3 that long. i mean it dude, im pretty sure the universe had a good chuckle over this one bc i sure as shit had to sit here and go “youre pullin my leg bud”
also now feels like a good time to mention, for absolutely no reason in particular (definitely not bc of Bucky being a Huge Simp this chapter), that i hc bucky as a dom with service top leanings. i just didnt wanna give the impression that reader is dom for this and accidentally get anyones hopes up with no payoff. i try to avoid that as much as i can bc god knows i drop Big Honkers on y’all every damn chapter, id hate for you to get all the way to the end of this and not get your cookie, y’know? (i am, ofc, down to write mega sub bucky for smut-shot requests)
also remember when i mentioned giving ava a HANDFUL of physical details for writing fuel? 🌝 (ur gonna think im funny rlly soon, dw)
anyways if you dont have adhd, good luck and god speed with the idiots thinkin abt each other in this chapter ❤️ im so sorry in advance 🥺😔
Febuary 17th, 2015
"Good morning, Sh—"
"Have you left your worthless husband yet?" Shuri impatiently taps a finger against her elbow, where her arms are crossed over her chest. 
She watches Ava sigh on the other end of the vidcall. The woman looks too tired. She needs rest. Shuri wants to stab Alec all over again. She's going to make a new, self-lacing, possibly electrified dagger just for the occasion. "I know you're just trying to—"
"We can come to get you. I will send T'Challa. You must promise me that you will have him get me something from Washington." Shuri raises a stern finger, pointing it directly at the camera. "Do not let him pick it out himself—"
"Shuri, honey, I love you with all my heart, but please—"
"I want you to pick it. The furniture in your office is ridiculous; I want something like that."
A smile far too small pulls at the corners of Ava's lips. Her smile used to move freely, and it will do so again if Shuri has any say in the matter. Which she does. "Well, thank you, I work very hard to keep it ridiculous. Now—"
"It will make me think of you whenever you are not around to make fun of my brother with me. My mother will get the lawyers you need to start your divorce—"
"I—sweetheart, please, it's been a very long night—"
"It is the afternoon where you are. You have not even had breakfast, have you? Of course not. You are busy doing the work while Alec—"
"Shuri!" Ava puts a hand over her eyes and takes an unsteady breath in. "I'm sorry. This is—it's been a long night. I didn't mean to yell at you—"
"You need to start yelling much more, Ava. Aim it at your worthless husband while you tell him you are leaving," Shuri argues, entirely fed up with how the doctor allows the spineless dickhead to make her miserable. "T'challa will remove him for you while you stay here with us."
Alec—she refuses to call him Ryder; the man does not deserve to have taken the doctor's name—leans into the camera view, his expression bored. Dismissive. Shuri wants to smash his wrinkling, greasy face in with her fist. "While I appreciate the offer, your majesty, my wife and I can handle our private life alone."
Shuri glares back at him, one of her eyebrows hiked as far up as she can comfortably get it. "Do you really think being aware of your presence on this call will deter me from reminding my friend that you are a demon?" She looks pointedly at Ava, who's still covering her eyes. "He is a demon. A pasty, rude demon."
"Alec is going to shut the fuck up now, I promise." The fingers over Ava's eyes pull in until she's pinching the bridge of her nose tightly. She looks as if she's fighting off a migraine. She probably is. And it is Alec's fault. "That way, we can get this over with, and I can finally get some sleep—"
"Which you need and are not getting enough of." The words slip out before Shuri can stop them. 
Ava's shoulders deflate slightly. Her hand drops, and she attempts another smile that doesn't reach her eyes, making Shuri feel a pang of guilt. "No, I'm not. But I will, just as soon as we finish the basic adaptation matrix. I promise."
Ava always encourages her to speak her mind, no matter what. Sometimes it gets her into trouble. She is not looking to berate her favorite Canadian; she loves leaving the vidcomm between their labs on. The open connection is a comforting window into the outside, one that lets Shrui indulge in any question or raving that passes through her mind. 
Alec is a poison in her friend's life, and Shuri will not back down from reminding her of that. But mother and Nakia have sat with her over this, explaining that sometimes, an abused heart will cling to what hurts it. They have to be supportive while Ava works through this. She's getting there. Just not nearly fast enough for Shuri's patience.
Father has been reminding them all that Alec is a risk, given what he knows. Trusting Ava means trusting her for the duration, and they can't go back now. If she says she is handling the issue of separating the man from her work, they have to allow her room to do that. But T'Challa has been ordered to keep close, or at the very least, ready to go.
As much as she despises Alec, Shuri does not wish to see Ava hurt in this. Not any more than necessary. She is also not interested in trying to control her friend the way her mother sometimes tries to control her. It is infuriating. 
So, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she lets some of the fight leave her. For the sake of Ava, not the pasty demon. "I have the latest build ready for transfer." 
"You're sure you've secured the connection on your end?" Alec has the audacity to question, even outside of the frame. "I'm not interested in spending my week chasing traces of this—"
"Do I look as if I will hesitate to strike you, colonizer?!"
"I'm just saying, Humpty Dumpty."
"Fuck off," Bucky wheezes at the billionaire, compressing the towel he grabbed from his new medkit against his ribs. Why he expected to make it through his first mission back without having to crack it open, he's not entirely sure now that he's sitting in the hindsight. Getting shot today was, if he's honest with himself, entirely predictable. It's his luck, after all. 
"We let you out of the house again for five minutes, and you've already broken yourself." Tony shakes his head as he tsk's, making Bucky roll his eyes lazily. "What's Ryder going to think? If you keep this up, you'll give the woman a complex about draining your mojo."
"She's going to think I throw myself in front of armor-piercing rounds for idiots that don't notice when they're being shot at." The mention of Ava brings the doctor's smiling face to the forefront of his mind. Bucky leans back against the Quinjet's co-pilot seat, letting his eyes fall closed. 
He could take care of this latest injury himself. That's what he usually does. Thanks to the serum, all he has to do is keep the wound clean for a few hours while his body stitches itself back together. Nothing's broken, and he'd be in much more pain if anything were punctured. Hell, he'd probably be dead already. The fix for this is so easy it'll practically handle itself.
"You always get so cranky after you've played the hero." He hears Tony kick his feet up on the Quinjet's main controls. "Take a breather. Maybe a bow or two. Believe it or not, it's possible to accept a compliment now and then."
"Grandstand more often, got it."
Ava's probably going to hear about today's incident now that Bucky thinks about it. If anything, Steve's going to make sure of it. He doubts she'd guilt him for not being comfortable with an optional trip to medical. They've been having more conversations about boundaries and comfort, and she's been unwaveringly supportive of him moving at his own pace. 
"You don't have to grandstand, you gigantic baby," Natasha chides from between the chairs. Her hand smacks against his shoulder, making Bucky grunt softly. "A whole new world is going to open up for you when you relearn to accept praise."
Tony snorts, long and loud. "Has he reached that stage of modern education yet?"
"I reached that stage of education before you were born, Stark." Bucky's not territorial over his reputation anymore; those days are long since passed. The grand majority of his mojo got left in the 40s. He's just tired of Tony's shit. That's all it is.
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Ava might feel bad that he didn't come to her for something like this. He doesn't... want that. He doesn't want her thinking that he doesn't welcome her help or that he doesn't trust it. He... he does. He doesn't just appreciate having the option; he enjoys it. The new routine is a breeze, and his neck feels better than it ever has. At least that he can remember.
"I'm confused," Tony mumbles around a mouthful of snacks. The man never stops eating. "Are we talking about your no-no years, or did you and Rogers hit up underground bars before Germany?"
"I know all his secrets from the vanilla days; they never went to any of the fun ones," Natasha confirms. It's not like Bucky was going to take the verbal bait anyways. Steve still falls for it regularly. 
"I like how you don't deny having the rest of the answer; I feel like it tells me all I can tolerate about the icicles when it comes to this. That's my favorite part about you, Romanoff. You know when I don't need to know, you know?"
His dumbass friends might as well be background noise with Bucky's mind this firmly in the memory of Ava's office. She's been so good to him, especially over this last week while she pushed through all the red tape for him. He'd been expecting it to take an eternity of hounding Steve all by his lonesome, but she got him back in the field in under two weeks. His best friend had actually been kind of pissy about it behind closed doors. For Bucky, it was like getting sprinkles on top of his cake. 
He's been thinking about getting flowers delivered to her lab for the trouble. It feels like too much whenever his thumb hovers over the confirmation button. He's reached the part of staring at the order details four times.
"I'm pretty sure your country doesn't appreciate it as much as you do. They tend to fight cold wars over it."
"Well, yeah, but our country—you see what I did there? That was a pretty funny communism joke. And it works as a reminder for both of us that you're actually an American citizen these days; isn't that wild? Back to the point here, our country fights wars over stuff we do ourselves all the time, so that doesn't feel like a fair reason to dismiss our friendship."
The doctor's forcing him to expand his music library. Her taste there is as scattered as her taste in movies, but she's got some leading themes he's been able to pin down. The 60s and 70s are huge for her, expectedly, and she's got a lot of nostalgia over the 90s. Paige keeps her versed in all things pop, folk, and country, according to her. 
"If I start referring to the US as my country, you people will expect me to do things like register to vote. Or put up wallpaper."
"I don't think anyone's expecting you to be legally allowed to do that. The voting thing, not the wallpaper. In most states. For multiple reasons. Although, the wallpaper might be a good call."
Ava invited him to their absurdly large archive of playlists during his second session. The ones Paige curates are nothing but insanity. Not one of them makes a lick of sense. Bucky decided that he should have expected that, given her Energizer Bunny reputation. Ava's are less scattered; more organized. Soothing for his mind to digest. He's been using them as workout music ever since. And driving music. And general background noise. 
"I don't think I'd know where to start buying wallpaper. Do you even want me putting that shit on your expensive building?"
"Not really, but the idea of walking in on you rolling paste on the living room walls is worth anything it could take to fix them later."
God, she's funny, too. He could listen to the woman's awful, soul-crushing puns and subsequent cackling for hours. He'll never say that to her face, not for as long as he lives, but they've made him feel lighter every morning that he's gone to let her work him over. He's already stolen two of them to torture Sam with. Another thing he's not going to tell her.
"Maybe I should start smaller. Bruce keeps suggesting a car that has legal registration."
"Heeey, that could work. You'll be signing up for mailing lists and bitching about state tax in no time. You know what?" He hears Tony snap his fingers. "We should get you a houseplant. Work you up to having a fish or something."
Alright. Maybe he'll go to Ava. He doesn't want her to think he's trying to blow off her expertise again. Or that he's avoiding her. He's not; he really does like hanging out in her office. Even if it's technically a medical appointment. He's a lot more eager to visit her than his therapists, that's for sure.
"I am not paying taxes," Natasha scoffs. "If you think I'm tying a legal address to my name, you're out of your fucking mind. Moreso than usual."
"You don't think you'd enjoy having a cave to lurk in?"
"What makes you think I don't have one already?"
"I'm talking about a real house, not a safe house."
This injury isn't related to his cybernetics. It's his ribs, well below any of his implants. He's not entirely out of the loop when it comes to what doctors have to do to get their licenses. She no doubt had to pull a lot of hard hours during her residency. Maybe she doesn't want to patch up the tower's notorious grouch every time he takes a hit. But he doubts she'd ever be impolite enough to refuse him walking in.
"I have my space here: bathroom, laundry room, small kitchen. If I haven't bothered decorating that, what makes you think I'll want to do it for an entire house?"
"Aww, come on. Look at Ryder! She's having all kinds of fun making her place as obnoxious as possible. That could be you after a few online shopping sprees."
Bucky's eyes open slowly, his brows drawing in when the second verbal mention of Ava pulls parts of his attention back to the conversation. 
Fuck, not going to medical still leaves the option of her taking offense. Okay. Alright. So, he'll split the difference and go to emergency intake. He's pretty sure she's listed as his surgical contact in the tower now—he can't stomach looking at his own medical file, not even the written records. Any injury this big will get flagged for trauma support, and she'll be notified. Then it's up to her what she wants to do. That feels like a good compromise.
"She's doing that to reclaim it from Alec; that's different. I don't have the same motivation. For me, it's just going to be extra work.
"Who's Alec?" Bucky asks without thinking. If the universe doesn't hate him today, Natasha's just going to assume he's being his usual kind of paranoid.
"She hasn't mentioned him?" Tony sounds surprised. "Alec's her ex-husband."
Ex-husband? She was married? And she's not anymore, meaning she might be—
He shuts down that train of thought immediately. 
Reclaiming the space of her house implies they lived in it long enough to form some heavy memories. She hasn't mentioned having a kid, and she strikes him as the type to bring up something like that pretty fast. So it was just the two of them, most likely.
"People usually don't like talking about the egocentric sack of shit they used to coexist with," Natasha points out. Of course, she already knows about the doctor's history. It's her.
"Bad divorce?" he prods, trying not to sound overly invested in the answer. These assholes will take it as an invitation.
"Oh, the worst," Tony confirms. "Shithead tried fighting her on it tooth and nail. She had to borrow my legal team just to get the guy to fuck off and leave her alone. He even kept her surname after the divorce; can you believe that?"
An uneasy feeling starts to rise in his gut, making Bucky look over at him. Then up at Natasha. "What kind of won't leave her alone are we talking about?"
"Down, fido, my lawyers took care of it. There's no need to start tailing him. Aside from being a self-absorbed asshole that insists they'll," Tony's voice turns scornful as his fingers form air quotes, "work things out with time, he's toothless." 
"She's got concealed carry permits she earned properly if that makes you feel better," Natasha offers up. The thought does help ease the tension building in him. 
He won't read Ava's file, no matter how bad the buzzing gets. But he might check in with JARVIS about her home security. He's noticed her name on the system logs. She, or at least her house, is linked to SHIELD's network despite her general distrust of the organization. He understands the opposing priorities completely.
He caved and read Wyatt's file two nights ago. The buzzing had been building since Ava mentioned him wanting an autograph, and it finally got to be too much. Nothing's lurking there aside from an impressive list of historians from all the fuck over Georgia and Alabama. The kid's got more family than some towns have population. 
Bucky leans forward with a muted groan to change the autopilot's intended LZ of the Avenger's balcony to the entrance hanger for medical. If he's going to grit his teeth through the antiseptic over a couple small holes, he's damn sure not going to haul his ass through half the tower while his ribs leak. His patience has limits, and that's pretty fucking far over the starting line. 
Tony looks over at him with a deep, suspicious frown. Bucky frowns at him right back with the same level of scrutiny. He can feel Natasha staring a hole into the side of his head, even if he can't catch her in his peripherals. He hates both of them with a passion at the moment. He knows what's about to happen—
"Did you just… prioritize your own health," Tony questions like he's baffled by the very idea. His whole upper body turns in the seat as he looks up at Natasha excitedly. "Oh my god. He's doing it. All by himself." He raises a hand to his chest and looks back at Bucky. "They grow up so fast."
It's good that the autopilot is on. If it weren't, Bucky would be tempted to crash them out of spite, mostly because he's sure he'd survive it. "Very funny."
"All it took was a hippie that gives him candy," Natash adds, her voice dripping with smugness. "Who knew."
"Both of you can fuck off." Bucky doesn't like how close she just got to his primary motivation on the first try. Old habits die hard, et cetera. And he hates that he can't tell if she was trying to guess. If he's lucky, which he isn't, she was just making fun of him.
Natasha knows about his visits to the florist's website; he's fucking convinced of it now. He doesn't know how, and he can't outright call her on it. If he does, he could fuck up and make himself right. There is nothing worse than having the Black Widow as metaphorical family. Not even Steve's hovering.
She and Tony harass him for the remainder of the flight. It's not long, mercifully, and he's starting to regret not grabbing something for the doctor. They were in Montreal, of all places, so it would have been fitting. He figures she'll understand once he shows her his side. The train of thought makes him wonder what part of Canada she's originally from. She hasn't brought it up.
His foot is already bouncing by the time he reaches the elevator. He's still got the surgical towel shoved tightly against his ribs. He hopes she gets there fast if she ends up taking the call. The last thing he wants to do right now is sit around in the burn of antiseptic and bleach while he fights off the urge to bolt. 
This is good, Bucky reminds himself as he takes his first few steps into medical. He's sat through plenty of trips to emergency intake. He can handle walking into his first optional one. It's a non-issue. Completely.
When JARVIS informs him that his file and general vital scan have been submitted for intake, the buzzing gets so intense that he almost leaves. The pace of his sergeant walk, as Sam likes to designate it, slows to a crawl. Then he thinks about a doctor with concealed carry permits. One that lets her house be monitored by a government organization she's actively pushing herself to trust. All in an effort to contribute something good to the world. The buzzing eases, and he picks up his pace, headed for the solo observation room JARVIS listed for him.
There's no moment of standing involuntarily from nerves this time. He doesn't have to force himself to sit back down and wait, even though the room smells wrong. His skin is crawling, and he wants nothing more than to put a throwing knife in his hand like a goddamn security blanket. But he doesn't panic. He doesn't try leaving.
Baby steps.
When the door opens, it's devastating. There's no diminutive hippie with UFO-sized glasses smiling at him on the other side of it. It's a guy in a plain white lab coat without artistic stitching, one that Bucky's never met before in his life. He's already squinting down at a tablet, meaning this will be his doctor for the duration.
This was the worst plan he could have possibly conceived. The universe is humbling him for thinking he could get away with something like this without some kind of suffering. He just wanted to make up for being dismissive of her help initially. Now he gets to sit through this. How fucking grand.
"Barnes?" The doctor that's not Bucky's doctor looks up, his heart rate elevating by a few notches. He's putting in a lot of effort to look confident. It's not exactly working. "I'm Dr. Erickson. I'm guessing you're here for the bullet wounds JARVIS detected?"
"Yup." Bucky's not about to volunteer for small talk at the moment. It's a miracle he hasn't jumped off the biobed yet. "Where's Ryder?"
"Your primary is in a staff meeting at the moment." Erickson puts his tablet down on the supply cabinet's main counter. He's already starting to gather what he needs, leaving Bucky to figure out real quick if he's actually willing to do this. "Don't worry; I'll get you sewn up and on your way in no time."
He doesn't want it getting back to Ava that he bailed the moment she couldn't show up. He doesn't want to leave her with the impression that he's only going to take on medical care if it's her; that's not anywhere near fair. The woman is a brain surgeon, not his private physician. He can grow the fuck up and accept help from people that haven't gone through his gauntlet of verification.
"Great," he pushes out, lifting the side of his undershirt to offer an unobstructed view.
It's not great; it's fucking horrendous. The first touch of the new doctor makes the overly physical memory of the buzzing build so high, he can feel it in his teeth. They're not actually rattling in his jaw the way they did back then, he knows that, but it doesn't matter because his body is screaming at him that it's happening.
The first stitch going through his skin makes him want to put his fingers through the doctor's eye sockets. His mind goes over all the ways he can violently put at least ten feet between them without having to get up. Looking back, it's probably good he didn't reach for the throwing knives. He's not unhinged enough to stab someone unprovoked; he's better than that. But they'd have been distracting to his impulse control, that's for sure.
Dr. Handsy is pulling the first suture in tight when the door to the observation room opens again. Bucky doesn't look up, his eyes locked on a random point on the far wall while he focuses on his breathing. He only looks over when a billowing, maroon pant leg enters his peripheral.
Thanks to a bunch of dead Nazi scientists that used to hide out in the mountains of Russia, Bucky Barnes has a trigger in his brain that is entirely out of his control. One that, when activated by his own interest, lets him process his surroundings in a sliver of the time that it should for a human mind. It is exceptionally helpful in the field. 
Watching Ava Ryder walk in, wearing a suede jumpsuit that mercilessly frames her curves, proves to him that having it in the 30s would have gotten him shot by someone's father. Definitely before he left Brooklyn. Or before he got chased out by several fathers banding together with baseball bats. In the time it takes her hand to come off the door handle and make its way to her hip, his mind goes on one hell of a fucking journey.
He already had more than a vague idea of the shape of her before now; he can't help it. Comes with the territory of doing threat assessment for a living. God knows his eyes have slipped down to her chest on a shameful amount of occasions. Her tits are being held up and pushed together fucking beautifully at the moment. Typically, that would hold all of his attention.
But this is the first unobstructed view of her that he's gotten, thanks to the lab coat being nowhere in sight, and good fucking god. Holy fucking shit. Godfuckingdamn.
She's half turned from him at this angle, so he's only getting a side view. That's more than enough to show off an obscenely rounded ass and the cushy thighs it rests on that are going to haunt his fucking dreams. It's bigger than his hands by a margin that's outright glorious. The mental image of his fingers digging into it, of how it would make her skin dip under the pressure, makes his blood race.
He can't spot the outline of any underwear at first. Then her hand makes contact with the jumpsuit, and his eyes pick up on it. Right there, above the top of her finger, pulled up high over her hipbone. There's a thin band leaving an impression in the fabric. An extraordinarily thin band. There is nothing else in sight.
Pulled between Ava's legs, right at this very moment in time, is a strip of fabric that Bucky's tongue would fit against perfectly. Right under that is a taste he's been catching himself wondering about for two weeks now. One good, long drag of his nose. That's all it would take to push in whatever she's picked out for the day and soak it with that taste. He could get it back out from between her lips with his tongue, pull it to the side with his teeth to give himself room to feast—
Bucky tries to shift his weight as nonchalantly as possible while his brain slows back down. The comeback from tactical analysis is always jarring, with this one being especially so. 
He's the worst kind of bastard. An awful, selfish, perverted sonofabitch. There's not shit he can do to change that. How unfortunate.
"David," Ava greets, the name coming out as tense as the closed smile plastered on her face. "You can put that down."
The other doctor doesn't look up from the work his hands are doing. "That you, Ava? I heard you were—"
"Now."
Bucky's back straightens up as David looks at her nervously, taken aback. Bucky doesn't blame him; he didn't know her voice could get that forceful.
David sort of laughs, which feels like the worst possible choice to Bucky. But, hey, not his call. "What, do you want me to just—"
"I want your hands off my patient right now. I'm not asking." She watches with unwavering intensity as the other doctor lets the needle and thread drop from his hands. She visibly bristles at the patronizing expression on David's face, her head tilting aggressively. Bucky kind of wants to watch her hit him. "I'll be back in less than a minute, sergeant. I need a word outside with Dr. Erikson."
"Take your time," Bucky assures, the tension bleeding out of him already. His ribs are leaking, and there's a piece of doctor floss looped through his skin that he's going to have to cut out of himself tomorrow morning. The immoral evaluation of her outfit that his head threw at him is going to eat him alive. Forever. Especially when he's trying to fall asleep for the foreseeable future. 
All things considered, though, he feels fan-fucking-tastic.
David still looks somewhat shell-shocked, and there's real insult starting to creep into his posture, but the guy doesn't argue. He follows Ava back out of the room, not bothering with a goodbye in Bucky's direction. When the door closes behind them, his super hearing picks up on Ava reaming David about prioritizing patients before ego. She goes into detail about the deep shit he'll be in with her if he keeps ignoring her written orders, long before it ever gets him fired. She tacks on why her anger should scare him a hell of a lot more than the idea of that. Then she instructs him to keep his damn hands off her patients and get back to the intake desk. 
The protective streak makes Bucky's chest feel warm, a half-smile pulling at his lips. She's a handful, alright. One he'd give anything to be brave enough to send flowers to.
Ava is calm, cool, and collected when she leans back in through the doorframe, hanging off it with a soft smile. "Hiya, stranger. I hear you picked a fight in my motherland today."
"I hear it has an arms dealer problem. I wanted to see if I could help." He gestures down at the needle swinging from his ribs without looking at it. "Not all Canadians are as welcoming as you, turns out."
"Eh?" she fires back, hamming up the accent. "Wellll, I'm not about to let a few cranky arms dealers tarnish our reputation. What do you say you push that bandage against your new bragging rights, and we head for my office?"
Licking his bottom lip nervously, he tries to give her a confident smile. "You were busy with something."
"Not too busy for my favorite popsicle." One eyebrow raises sternly. "You are not allowed to tell Steve I'm playing favorites." God, she's cute when she tries to deflect. It's never worked. At least not on him.
"That's—" Shit, where to even find the fucking words for her. "You don't have to do this. Go out of your way like this. I don't mind getting patched up by random medics. Comes with the job."
Her smile turns impish. "That's cool and all, but I mind when people ignore basic ethics just to have a story about stitching up an Avenger. If you need to tell yourself I'm using you as fuel for a workplace pissing contest, go for it. Whatever gets you off that biobed." She leans back, leaving the door open wide behind her. "Come on; I can't stand the way they organize these damn shelves. I wouldn't patch you up in here even if you did pay me. Next time, head for my office first."
Bucky does as she ordered, pushing the surgical towel she packed for him against his side, not minding the sting in the least. He swallows down the point that, by every definition there is, he's not an Avenger. "I'll follow you, doc."
"Alright," Wyatt plops his hands down on the glass of the holo, his expression determined. His tight curls bounce with the motion, making their resident gumdrop look adorable, even through the discomfort. "Let's get to dissectin' this cacophony. All in one go, preferably, so I don't feel like yackin' up my lunch two days runnin'."
Ava's head tilts sympathetically. "Oh, honey, tell me you didn't—"
His hand comes up, with his index finger pointed to the ceiling. "Nope. But I got close a couple'a times thinkin' about this." He mutters several things under his breath about creepy Nazi bastards while he pulls up the raw data from Bucky's implants. "All the more reason to get it the hell over with."
"A whole day of digging through coded war crimes," Hannah deadpans quietly, raising a steaming mug to her lips. "I'm glad we get the fun assignments."
"You'd ditch us if we didn't," Ava jokes. She scrolls through the sergeant's file absentmindedly on her tablet, reviewing the vitals added just a few hours ago. He actually came to medical. For something as minor as a field injury. Of his own volition.
"Mmm. I don't know. It's pretty fun watching a brain move like Jell-O. You might have been able to convince me to stick around just for that."
SHIELD's primary system makes a blaring noise of disagreement as Wyatt loads the main file structure. He frowns, looking over at Ava with concern. "Its askin' for administrative override."
"Heeey, that's that thing Tony says I'm not supposed to abuse. That's probably not a good sign." Ava pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and leans over to get a look at the error. "JAR, I'd like some reassurance we're not about to trigger an ancient LoJack if you wouldn't mind advising here."
"There are safeguards in place for importing code with an unknown source," JARVIS reports in. The warning on the screen is dismissed, presumably by him, and a new window comes up. A log of the programming in Bucky's cybernetics going through digital quarantine loads rapidly, with line after line being highlighted in red and labeled HYDRA Suspected. "I will process them for you. One moment."
"We have to clean the Nazi code before we can beat it to death," Hannah mumbles against the rim of her mug. "I think I kind of like that."
"Please, Hannie, I'm hangin' on by the skin'a my teeth here." Scrubbing his hands over his face, Wyatt groans exhaustedly. He drags them down slowly, giving Hannah a pleading look over the tops of his fingers. "You know I'm always here for supportin' you—"
"I'm aware." The ex-marine's clipped tone makes Ava snort and look back down at her tablet. They both know stopping him now isn't going to cut off the word vomit.
Wyatt's hands thunk back down onto the glass. "I'm so proud'a ya, y'know that—" And there's the thickening of the accent.
"I know."
Ava's eyes skim over the list of everything detected in Bucky's wound, locking on the word leather in particular. Today was her first look at his work gear—she's got a feeling he doesn't call it a uniform—in person. It was hard to keep professional in front of six and a half feet of Hi, how are ya? wrapped up in that much heavy black. The sounds that his vest made when he dropped it on the coffee table— Jesus. He's got to be packing enough in there to arm a small country. 
"All's I'm sayin' is that if I have to hear about murder right now, I might actually upchu—"
"Please don't."
Ava's too scared to ask what's in the sergeant's pants for a multitude of reasons. Professionalism is lower on the list than it probably should be. It's a shame, too. He's downright hilarious when he lets himself talk. There's not a doubt in her mind that he'd come up with something unbearably good—and unwaveringly dry—in response to the loaded question.
"A'right then. We're in agreement. No bad thoughts today. We go in like—like excavators, right? With our helmets and our 'lil pickaxes, and we get what we need so we can—" The way he cuts himself off makes Ava look back up in concern. She finds the most horrified expression on Wyatt's face. "That—ah shit, that didn't come out all that right. That was mean, wannit? Insensitive. I'm not tryin' to belittle what the sergeant's been through."
"You weren't belittling anything," Ava assures, reaching out to rub his arm. "I think he'd be the first one to race you to a fossil joke about this."
"You'll tell 'im I'm takin' this serious, won't ya—"
A small chuckle escapes before she can stop it. "Wyatt, sweetheart, it's not like he heard you—"
"You take your pills today, Combs?" Hannah's calm question makes the gumdrop freeze in place. She blows on her coffee, taking a small sip. "If you say you don't remember, I'm going to—"
Wyatt snaps his fingers, his expression shifting to relief. "I didn't, and I remember why, too." He rolls his chair back with a sudden push, aiming for his desk. He reaches out before the chair finishes the trip to grab his patch-covered messenger bag. "One'a the cats got int'a my coat closet; dumbass got stuck on a shelf for reasons I'm still not real clear on." He pops open his medication bottle, tossing a pill into his mouth with a level of dexterity that makes her jealous. "The hollerin' was s'damn loud, I thought the landlord was gonna come knockin'."
"Which one was it?" Ava asks. "Not the new kitten?"
"No, no—Juno's been'a dream. It was Galileo again. I love that furry little bastard, but sometimes he can drive me nutty ." He pauses to take a swig from another glossy vacation mug. Today's is advertising a campground Ava's never heard of that's the best in the Rockies, according to the swirling font. "I got new pictures of Juno if you want 'em, though."
"Yes, please," Ava confirms happily. Holding the teacup-sized ball of fur made her whole month when he last brought Juno in. Hannah ended up hogging most of the cuddle time, but the sound of little meows filling the day had been enough to make up for it.
Wyatt pulls his phone from his back pocket and brings it around to hook up to the holo. The system dings with the sound of a successful transfer after a moment. He loads a collection of new photos, zeroing in on one of Juno clawing her way up a window curtain—
The power to the lab shuts off with a loud, electric click. Everything plunges into darkness with the privacy setting on the glass walls keeping the sun out. It comes back on before Ava can react, the building's primary system switching to the emergency power grid. She and Wyatt lock eyes in panic.
"Oooh man, boss, did I just—"
"I'm sure you didn't," Ava comforts, trying to push down her own panic. It helps that she's heard Tony rambling about the work he's put into making this place indestructible. "JAR?" 
There's no response from the AI. She trades another nervous glace with Wyatt.
"I know it was probably the Nazi shit, but I'm hoping it was the cats," Hannah says, sounding sincere. "I feel like that'll make a much better story."
"Oh my god, did I break JAR?" Wyatt looks between them frantically. "How often does he back up his servers? Did I kill'a piece'a JAR?!"
"I have not been murdered," the AI confirms after nearly a minute of being gone. "The safeguards reported a false positive regarding the programming of Sergeant Barnes' cybernetics. It has been handled."
Ava gives the hologram wall of code a warry look. "Handled by you?" There's a suspicion building in her gut around his phrasing, one that she's not planning on letting out of her teeth. 
"Mr. Stark has a protocol in place that cuts off my servers in the event of any irregular activity. Given the nature of the programming's origin, the system is designed to er on the side of caution."
"That's a really fancy way of dancing around the point, JAR." She's trying to stay civil about this. It's not an easy venture, and she's pretty sure it's not translating at all. Even she can hear the frustration in her voice. "How about we cut the shit, and you tell me what the false positive was."
"There are automated routines running for Sergeant Barnes' implants. They are not harmful; I've taken the liberty of checking them personally now that they've been cleared through quarantine. I am creating a stable update to forward to—"
"How long have they not been harmful, JARVIS?"
Hannah sits up from her relaxed position at the avoidance of their favorite nickname for the AI. Wyatt's brows pull in nervously, his eyes never leaving Ava. They both know exactly what she's digging at.
There's a long hesitation from JARVIS. Short by normal social standards but an eternity for a sentience with quantum processors. "There is not currently a risk posed within the Sergeant's—"
Ava's out of her chair and halfway to the door before he even finishes the omission. Fueled by some of the most intense rage she's ever felt in her life, she marches out on swift feet. She's going to kill him. She's going to string him up—maybe hang him off the side of the tower.
America's fucking Sweetheart, her ass. America's Doomed Liar is a lot more like it.
"Where is he," Ava nearly growls, still stalking down the halls, leaving the medical wing in a hurry. "JARVIS, I know you're still listening; you tell me where that puffed-up, hypocritical—oooh , you tell me where Rogers is right the fuck now. And then you tell me where Stark is—"
"Dr. Ryder, I know you're not inclined to believe this at the moment, but I assure you—"
"You're right; I'm not inclined to do that at all." She takes a deep breath as she passes through the front entrance, slowing herself to a stop. With genuine effort, she pushes down her anger. "I don't want to keep yelling at you. I don't like doing it in the first place. If you don't want to tell me where they are, I'll find them myself."
Ava heads for the elevator to do just that. She's not expecting a response as she pounds the side of her fist against the button for the Datacrux's floor. It's likely to be her best bet to find any of them. There's not a chance in hell that she's letting her team dedicate any more time to this until she gets some fucking explanations.
Halfway along the ride up, the light around the button goes dim. A flash of anger rises in her until she sees the one for the executive level illuminate. 
"Mr. Stark is not currently in the tower, but you will find Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes debriefing in the Situation Room," JARVIS informs her over the elevator's intercom, making the SHEILD agents around her pretend not to look over. She's tempted to ask them if it's the outfit.
"Thank you, JAR," she offers as an olive branch. Regardless of what's truly going on here, she doubts the AI is all that comfortable with the subject.
"You're welcome, Ava."
She's only been to this part of the tower once before. Tony dragged her up to the Avenger's balcony for a party after her divorce was first finalized. That's about the extent of her experience with this section. It's not hard to find her way with everything denoted like it is in the rest of the building.
The palm of her hand smacks against the door marked Situation Room, and she shoves it open aggressively. Both super soldiers, the Falcon, Black Widow, and a scattered group of SHIELD agents stare back at her in surprise. It doesn't slow her down any.
Ava points an irate finger at Steve in the uneasy silence of the room. "Unless New York just caught fire, you and I are about to have a very blunt conversation, captain."
"Hiya, doc." Bucky, unsurprisingly, is the only one in the room smiling at her while she glares daggers at Captain America. He's still in his not-uniform. There's still blood on it. The charm he's throwing her way reminds her that they won't want an audience. 
"I'm going to ask the rest of you to leave," she continues, but her eyes stay on the sergeant as her finger lowers. "I don't think you'll want to be here for this, Bucky."
"What makes you think I don't wanna watch you beat up my best friend?" He leans back in his chair, his hands coming up to rest on his stomach as his smile deepens.
"Can I stay?" Sam asks, his voice eager. It's a damn shame this is how she gets to meet him. She doubts the Falcon has any clue about unethical research.
"Come on," Natasha insists with a serene nod in Ava's direction, grabbing Sam's shirt to drag him up from his chair. "You heard her."
"I—hey!" Steve looks so insulted as he watches his friends and various coworkers abandon him with zero hesitation. "You're just gonna—I don't even know what I did!"
"Neither do I, but I am very ready to hear about it," Bucky assures Ava, not an increasingly distressed Steve.
Ava taps her foot impatiently as the room clears out, leaving her alone with the super soldiers. She ignores the nerves radiating off of one of them and focuses on the one that looks delighted. "I'm serious. This is about your case. Specifically, the work HYDRA was trying to finish."
The mirth leaves Bucky almost entirely. His posture doesn't adjust from its reclined position. "Alright. Tell me what's got you livid about it."
"Steve here made me a promise that was broken in my lab a few minutes ago."
Steve's eyebrows pull in with confusion. "Which promise? Wait—a few minutes ago—Is this about that blackout? Ava, catch me up here; what the hell is—"
"You swore to me that the intention of HYDRA—at least where Bucky's case is concerned—was to make an army of super soldiers, nothing more." She's letting him process this one step at a time. It'll make yelling at him for lying a lot easier. That, and she's honestly worried the technophobe doesn't understand the gravity of the situation.
"I—" Steve hesitates, and she watches the switch to tactical assessment come over him. It's startling to see it directed at her from a face that isn't Bucky's. "As far as I know, that was the intention."
"Yeah? You're sure about that? You're sure you're not omitting something pretty fucking important to my job, Steven?"
"JARVIS, what was the blackout?" Bucky questions at half the volume he started at when she first came in.
Ava points at the sergeant insistently. "See? I'm guessing he doesn't even know, but he's sure as hell already on the right track."
"There was an incident regarding the coding found in your implants, Sergeant Barnes. It has been handled. I have prepared an update to their systems whenever you're ready to undergo a transfer."
"As your doctor, I'm ordering it. We can go back to my office after I'm finished ripping your friend a new asshole for lying to my face." Her eyebrows lower at Bucky in indignation. She's doing this for him, but that doesn't mean she's going to let him off the hook if he knew. "We should probably figure out if I need to do the same to you before we get there."
"Hey, hang on now." Steve raises one hand, likely to try to calm her, but changes his mind and puts it back under the table. She's guessing someone's finally clued in the out-of-time man about that practice making women want to throw something. At his head. "We might not always be able to talk about classified information—something you agreed to, I might add—but I've never lied about HYDRA's intent as far as I comprehend it. I've been very careful to hold up that end of our deal."
"Let me tell you how I know, for a fact, that someone involved in this case is doing a piss-poor job of lying to me about it. Since you haven't quite figured out modern tech, I'm going to try to keep it simple." Ava points a far less aggressive, more instructing finger at Bucky's arm. "In order for that hunk of metal to work, it needs to be programmed. The hardware needs software that can tell it how to read brain signals. A few decades ago, some Nazis sat in a room and wrote a bunch of code for that software. That's what was supposed to be in Bucky's implants. That's all that was supposed to be in Bucky's implants."
"Wait—what the hell else is in them?" The flicker of fear that creeps into Bucky's expression breaks her heart. There's not a doubt in her mind that he could sell her on any lie he wants to with his mind set on it. That's the point of infiltrators like him. 
But Ava's willing to bet everything she's got in this world that the fear in him at the moment is genuine. He doesn't know. And it makes her feel awful.
"Given the size of your implants, I'm guessing not much," she tries to reassure. "We can always purge whatever is there later. However, if the code were as simple as 'read this signal, do this thing,' it wouldn't have been flagged as untouchable by Tony's security measures. The ones put in specifically to prevent JARVIS from being corrupted." She crosses her arms over her chest in exasperation, her eyes moving to one of the small security cameras on the ceiling. "Would you like to explain to the captain what kind of code it would take to accomplish that, JARVIS?"
There's another human-length moment of hesitation from the AI in response. "It would take adapting code."
"The part he's holding back—definitely because he's under orders not to break SHIELD protocol—is that something has to be driving the adaptation. There is such a thing as self-adapting code; that would absolutely explain it. If we weren't talking about something made in the 40s when HYDRA needed entire warehouses just to house a few terabytes of data." She glances over at Bucky. "While I'm sure the agents you scare the piss out of would disagree, your head isn't actually big enough to hold that much."
"You flirtin' with me to stop the panic or to apologize for not being Canadian for a minute?"
Ava blinks in surprise, the slightest hint of heat coming up the sides of her neck. That—she hadn't been—well. Steve's head turns to him, his eyebrows raising in mild shock.
Bucky clears his throat, then tries for a quiet chuckle, his eyes floating between her and the table. "Sorry—it's this damn room. Puts me in sergeant mode, makes me—let's get back to yelling at Steve."
"Thanks, asshole, I appreciate—"
"What makes you think I won't yell at you just because I'm Canadian?" Ava counters, finally recovering. "You trying to stereotype me, Barnes?"
The relief that comes off of Bucky is palpable. "I'd go for the hippie thing first if I was trying to do that."
"Didn't you sleep through the McCarthy era?"
"HYDRA gave me the long and short of it between naps."
Her hand flies up to her face to block a loud snort. Damn him, this is serious. But she's not about to begrudge him the gallows humor. She lowers it again while he smirks at her. "Do you mind? I'm trying to make an angry but valid point here."
"About a bunch of code that my head isn't big enough for," he continues for her dryly, one hand coming off his stomach to gesture up at it.
Ava sighs, the amusement from getting sidetracked by the Brooklyn heartstopper fading fast. "Not big enough by the standards of the 40s. By today's standards?" Her head tilts to the side sadly, readying herself to watch that fear in him get more substantial. "You tell me, Buck. Did the Nazis work in the mindset of single projects, or did they work in the mindset of generations that would lead a global empire?"
The words are the last piece to complete the puzzle in Bucky's mind; Ava can see it happen in his eyes. The expression of horror it yanks out of him will haunt her for the rest of her days. "Zola." 
It's said in a whisper, and Ava's not even sure what the word is. 
It takes Steve longer to reach whatever conclusion Buckys come to, and he looks resistant to the idea at first. "No, that's... no—Buck, you've been to what's left. You know what it took—"
"That's the point she's making, stupid. Look at how small everything's gotten." He stops, and Ava doesn't miss the sight of a hard swallow. "It makes sense. Think about it. It makes sense. They took care of the car until they could find an engine that fit. I was the prototype. Or—was going to be, at least."
The comparison—the one he's using on himself—is revolting. Accurate, but astoundingly revolting. She pushes past it, leaning down to tap a condescending nail on the table. "Hi, there. Still here. Still looking for some answers. What the hell is Zola?"
With Steve watching him like a hawk, Bucky breathes a long, tired sigh. "Not what. Who." 
"I can fill her in," Steve offers to him quickly. "You don't have to do this."
"Oh, I'm not doing shit. She's going to do it all." Bucky locks eyes with Ava, his expression passive. Having the Winter Soldier himself that focused in on her makes her breath catch involuntarily. "How's your Russian, doc?"
"I don't speak a word of it. Do I need to for this?"
"No, I'm sure you've got plenty of ways to translate anything you feel like reading. You should look up doveryai, no proveryai while you're at it." He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. His eyes never once move away from hers. "JARVIS, transfer a copy of my archive access to Dr. Ryder. Full permissions. And the next time she asks you a hard question, you don't have to bullshit her. Tell her to call me."
April 6th, 2015
"I want you to bring me with you next time."
"No."
"Is that a no because you do not agree or because you are afraid of mother?"
"Both."
Shuri frowns at the security feed, ignoring the quiet laughter she can hear coming from Nakia on the other end. "Coward."
The camera mounted on T'Challa's dashboard shakes as he turns it back to his face, his expression annoyed. "Say that to my—"
"Coward."
T'Challa rolls his eyes and turns the camera back around as Nakia laughs harder. He will be mopey now, for sure. "I am not taking you to stare at a soldier's office with us."
"Why not?"
"To start with, I refuse to be trapped in a car with you for that amount of time."
"You should be so lucky! Now, what is the real reason."
"What part of royal family do you not—"
"You get to go to these things."
"And when you leave your lab long enough to learn to use the spears of your foremothers, that privilege can extend to you."
"Okoye is always ready to teach you, Shuri," Nakia offers up diplomatically. 
"I do not need a spear to sit in a car annoying my brother," Shuri argues. They always do this to her. She is tired of it.
"You do not need to sit in a car annoying your bother at all." The moping has already started. She can hear it in T'Challa's voice.
"Fine. I will go to Ava's house and stay there while—"
"No."
Shuri slams her hands down on her desk, making the various instruments on it rattle precariously. "She is my family, too!"
There's silence on the other end in the wake of her anger. Then the camera turns again, this time by Nakia's hand. She doesn't stop the spin until it's pointed to show her and T'Challa. He does not look as annoyed anymore. He looks guilty.
Nakia gives her a sympathetic smile. "No one is trying to take that from you. We are only trying to keep you safe. We do not know how far Alec is willing to take things."
"And I am not willing to present the man with more temptations of power," T'Challa adds, the guilt on his face shifting to resignation. "It is not simply because I am afraid of our mother. I agree with her. And with our father. Alec Harlow is a man that is losing everything. That is a powerful motivator, Shuri."
"I am not afraid of that spineless demon," Shuri insists angrily. "I could handle him myself, thank you very much."
"Half the school children in Wakanda could," Nakia mocks under her breath.
She gets a stern look from T'Challa before he focuses it on Shuri. "It is not his strength we are concerned with. It is the allies he can call upon at any time. Men with strength and resources that we do not wish to deal with."
Some of the fight leaves her. Not much, but it does ebb. Her brother might be an idiot, but he is right about this. Ava would not be this afraid for no reason. She has been trying to disguise it when Nakia brings her for visits, which is how Shuri knows it is serious.
"I hate that man, brother." The word is far too inadequate. The contempt she holds for the worm who put fear in the heart of her favorite mad scientist feels immeasurable.
"As do I. As do we all." T'Challa smiles at her finally, his face softening. "I promise to bring you to hit him if he is ever arrested. That is when I will deem it safe enough."
"How many times?" she chases after quickly. "Can I bring a weapon?"
"You can bring exactly one weapon. Can you guess what it is?" The smile turns sarcastic as he reaches out and turns the camera back around to face Alec's office window. 
"I do not need a spear to break that man."
"No, you need it so I can stop being lectured by Okoye for enabling your avoidance of tradition."
"That will not help. She wishes for me to sit through her lessons. I would just bring the spear to hit him over the head with."
Nakia laughs, the sound light and soothing. "I am surprised you did not go straight for the idea of skewering him."
Tilting her head down at her desk, Shuri hesitates. She picks up the ridiculous coffee mug Ava got her, spinning it around in her hands with somber movements. 
Ava's last visit had been especially hard to stomach. The woman had looked so... empty as she talked about the start of the divorce. There had been no vengeful joy in her as she told Shuri's father she understood the gravity of the situation. No hard-won victory in her posture. There had only been grief and shame.
Shuri sighs, turning away from the screen to head for her lab's kitchen. She is going to fill the mug with one of the teas that Ava brings her. It will be a nice change from the energy drinks she has been binging. "No. I... I do not wish the man dead. I only wish to see him locked away somewhere he can never smile again."
—author end notes—
there’s one sentence in this chapter that is 14 words long (including contractions) that is the entire foundation of their incoming dom/sub and oh my g o d when i tell you that shit was cathartic to write 😫🤌 some day when this is finished, im gonna write a whole goddamn dissertation on that one sentence and all the narrative shit that tied into it in this fic so help me (YOURE ALLOWED TO GUESS BTW)
anyways, everyone is alive in wakanda bc i said so. and nakia and t’challa are really stupid uber mega important to ava’s backstory
i feel like we’ve all, as a species, Been Through Enough. you can talk my ear off abt anything, but dont talk to me abt the opening of wakanda forever i will Literally Die, i havent cried that hard over the first watch of a movie in so fucking long and i dont think im strong enough for a second. all i ever need for binging is winter soldier and black panther anyhow (FATWS is still growing on me and i only like it so far bc im a sambucky shipper. and a stucky shipper. and a 3 musketeer shipper. and a—i like making buckaroo be in love a lot. lets just. leave it at that). we can stop with the big owies thanks. let me escape to the fictional world where everyone is alive and Nothing Hurts, t h a n k s.
well. okay. some things are gonna hurt in this. probably really super bad too and youre gonna be really really mad at me when it hits. but like. theyre set up for comfort pay off so does it even really count??? i didnt think so, ty for agreeing 😌
ily 💖 tyty for reading 💞 and tyty in advance for yelling at me when i eventually hurt u ❤️🥰 i will understand, its okay, u are entitled to the emotional compensation on that one
1 note · View note
innocencelives · 2 years ago
Text
thinking about this post i made, especially the last paragraph. i just fell in love with this song called send my love to john by rina sawayama, its written from the perspective of an immigrant mother to their queer child. it describes them moving away from their home country, away from their family, changing their name, to give their child a better life. however they cant accept their child as queer, but eventually regret it, and then they see how their partner makes them happy, and how they give them the love she didnt give. without being able to vocally tell them how sorry she is, she says “send my love to john”, addressing their childs partner, a quiet acknowledgment of their sons queerness.
in the song there is a line, “we both had to leave our mothers, to get the things we want”, its really sticking with me. the idea of intergenerational trauma is so..tangible to me. having this multifaceted, sort of third person/birds eye view perspective of my family. obviously the song speaks of a vastly different scenario to mine, but the sentiment is so powerful. it acknowledges these traumas, these similar abuses, similar themes in life, similar struggles, that pass down from parents to children, from children to grandchildren. often a childs reaction to their parents toxicity creates a different toxicity for their own children. you can draw these red-string-lines across a 100 years. in understanding your trauma, you can then understand the generational path that led to it, and therefore break the cycle.
over my years of trauma recovery i have dealt with the most intense, visceral anger towards my parents, obviously my dad. now its no longer anger, its not depression either. to see the trail of abuse through my family i dont feel anger towards any of them, i just feel so, so sorry. they all deserved better. i remember as a kid i laughed at my dads stories of bullying, of humiliation from his parents and peers. his traumas were either jokes, or completely unspoken. my grandparents had another child who died of cancer at a young age, they had always loved him more than my dad. when they died, my grandparents couldnt love my dad. the stories of him being spanked in public, or being tied up after school by bullies, i see that now. my mom told me a story once- my father got home from school and their was no one even to let him in the house, they couldnt care for him, they were so consumed with grief. my dad had to use the bathroom in his backyard- he was eventually basically raised by his neighbors. those are the traumas i know of, but in his marriage to my mom i could see other patterns. she was a matriarch, she dictated everything, he was subservient to her. we all were really.
i think about how he must have felt a lack of control. people suggest a reason for sexually abusing a child could be because an abuser needs to feel power, needs to have control. it just sounded like my dad never had any control, he was always subservient to somebody. i saw this deep sadness in the way he looks at the floor, in his eyes. nothing can excuse what he did to me, but in my speculation of why he could have done this, i see his pain.
since my relationship with my dad is so complicated, i can only feel empathy and grief towards him. but to my grandpa, my zeide, i feel intensely connected to. it feels like no trauma alive can compare to surviving the holocaust. ive heard bits and pieces of his story, he spoke to many many audiences over the years about his story, how he survived. its too horrifying to put in words; ill never ever know what that was really like. but he made it, he got out of it, he moved to america, he started a successful fabric business! he married, had a kid, and that kid was my father.
i cant imagine what that does to a person. well fuck i guess i can? i didnt survive the holocaust, but i saw horrors no one should witness. hes passed now, but i feel him with me. god that makes me want to cry. he was never really there when i knew him, he had progressed alziehmers before i was even born. i guess the person i feel so connected to right now wasnt the 80 year old retired silk business owner, but the teenager in Treblinka. he got out, he did it, he survived it, and made a life for himself! i can only hope to do the same. but it stuck with him, of course it did, how could it not. even if he decided never to speak a word of it, it was there- like a poison.
both of them are like ghosts hanging over me, the sins of yesteryear affecting every move i make. all i can ever dream of is to leave it behind. thats not the right phrase for it, you cant leave that behind. you have to hold it, love it, care for it, understand it, protect it. if i am ever to live a life unburdened by tragedy, i have to set us free.
“we both had to leave our mother, to get the things we want,
so send my love, send my love to john”
i just saw a post in the BPD subreddit asking about people who were older with BPD. and alot of them still struggled but, ya know there working in a pizza shop, had a few break ups, maybe divorced or so, maybe with an estranged kid that there trying to get to know better. idk it made me think about, me growing old with cptsd. something i felt, made my life unlivable-i was sure that it was the end of me, and i was okay with that.
its helped me so much to integrate it into my identity in a way; its part of who i am, it will always be. its like this pet that follows me through my whole life, some days hurt more than others, there always there, but im at peace with them.
i noticed that more than ever when i started to feel empathy for my abusers in a way. for so long the healthiest thing was to be mad at them, and i firmly beleive your an asshole if you tell someone with cptsd to forgive your abusers. it really is the last step, after youve cried every tear. you can hold it and release yourself. my parents were good and bad, now i can see that even that rapist son of a bitch was doing the best he could with the circumstances given.
i know just how he feels, to live burdened by abuse. and he ended up on the path he did, and i chose a different one. i feel like i have this, 3D view of my generational trauma. like that movie mirai!! or moon knight, or ms marvel. i can see my grandpa at the gates of a concentration camp, i can see my dad getting beat up by classmates outside his high school. i can see it so clearly. i take all of their trauma, all of their pain, all of their anguish, all of the horror they bore witness to, the atrocities both personal and systematic, i see the pain in their eyes just as i saw it in mine. i take all of that, i hold it in my heart, and i let it go.
5 notes · View notes
melshome · 2 years ago
Note
hii~ congrats on 89 followers ^-^ 💓 I REALLY LOVE UR WRITING i can't wait for your account to grow even more
can i request scenario where reader feels like they are not good enough for scara so they TRY breaking up or smth basically angst with a good ending 🗿
helllooo!! thank you so much 😭💗 im so happy and glad to have support from you 💗💗 i tried my best as im.. well.. not that good with angst.. but since its for you, a follower, i tried my very best !! ⚈ ̫ ⚈ i hope you guy's weeks go well ❤❤
[also very sorry this is a late upload.. i was hoping to upload it yesterday but i was busy (┬┬﹏┬┬)]
cw fluff, angst character scaramouche
Tumblr media
even though scaramouche may seem to be a rude, ignorant person, he's actually very kind and considerate to you, his girlfriend.
you dont ask for it, but he helps you when he can
he checks up on you when you're just a bit too quiet
scaramouche.. just cares about you, so much, it makes you feel so special
but you feel as though.. you're not.. good enough to be his girlfriend..?
the thing you've done for him are.. well..
making his lunch for work, baking things for & with him.. and some other things couples usually do
but you just feel like.. its not enough, compared to the things he does for you.
he does so much more meaningful things
maybe.. we should break up?
scaramouche comes back home to find the house quiet
usually he finds you baking up something or watching some sort of drama on tv
he drops his shoulder laptop bag onto the ground, and rushes through the house, searching for you
"[your name]?!"
he goes into the bedroom, and finds it in a mess
clothes and things everywhere, with a half open suitcase and the closet half open
"you stupid little idiot.."
scaramouche rushes out of the apartment, calling the place, where he immediately knew where you went to.
he grumbles, before banging on the door.
"childe, let me in right now."
the door opens and stands there is childe with a hoodie and sweatpants on
"do you need anything, ScArAmOucHiE?"
childe pinches scaramouche's cheek, before scara pushes childe's arm away and storms into the house
he walks up to childe's bedroom, and sighs.
"[your name]. can you please let me in?"
no reply. you didn't want to reply. you were too scared of what scaramouche was going to say to you when you open it.
"at least.. please tell me what i did wrong.. and i'll fix my mistake."
he sounded so.. desperate to see you. he really.. sounded sincere when he said he'll fix his mistake.
"you didn't do anything wrong," you say, wiping your nose on your sleeve.
"then what's wrong? we can fix it together,"
scaramouche places his hand on the handle when you didnt reply for a few minutes
he slowly walks in to find you standing up, about to open the door
you freeze, embarrassed
"[your name]. just remember that i'll..."
scaramouche looks to the side, wondering how to word it.
should i say.. 'i'll love you whatever you do' or..
you run up to him and hug him as you start crying again
"i dont know.. i just feel like.." you start, before scaramouche gently puts his arms around you
"w-well..cry for.. as long as you want to.. i'll be here.. waiting until you're ready to head back home.."
EXTRA
the both of you went back home, after drinking some tea childe offered
you said yes, and of course, then had scaramouche said yes
on the drive back home, with all the windows open, you explained to scaramouche why you were crying. why you ran to childe's house
all scaramouche did was listen, he didnt speak at all, not even when you both came back home.
you showered first, then scaramouche.
once in bed, scaramouche pulled you towards him.
"dont think those stuff [your name]. if i didnt want to be with you, i wouldnt be with you in the first place."
you rolled around to face him, before snuggling into his chest, falling asleep.
236 notes · View notes
wallflowerimagines · 3 years ago
Note
*TW PERIOD MENTION*
If you're comfortable with this, could you do some hcs for the lords (but mainly moreau) with an s/o who gets HORRIBLE period cramps? Like they're literally writhing in pain and even after they take pain meds it's still miserable. Only do this if you feel comfortable of course, I totally understand if you dont want to do it❤
Hi, sorry folks, I bumped this to the top of the list, cuz I don't know if it's time sensitive for you, hope it brings comfort❤️ (Moreau's will have some extra)
TW: Period Mention, Reader is still Gender Neutral
Alcina Dimitrescu
Ah, she remembers those. She hasn't had to deal with one in a long while, due to her mutation, but even for her the experience was not pleasant.
This, however, looks very different.
Alcina cannot imagine the pain you must be in. You are curled into yourself on the couch, humming in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain, and you might try to hide them but she can see the tear tracks on your face.
Alcina takes care of you. Any of her day to day tasks can and will wait-- you are far more important. She doesn't leave the room unless you ask her to, and the Maids aren't let into the room unless it is to bring HER the things she needs to take care of you.
She will do whatever you need from her, no question. Cuddles, heated blankets, she will even read aloud to you as a distraction. Pro tip--her hands can get pretty chilly, and if you're someone who does well with ice packs, her hands work 100% better to cool off your skin.
Don't worry about her loosing control at the smell of blood--you are obviously in pain and she has far too much self control to let a little bit of blood bother her. (But depending on how hungry her daughters are, they might not be let in the room unless they have fed recently)
She will also use her contact with the Duke to find you a proper doctor. It's not normal for you to be in this much pain. Dearest, it doesn't matter if someone else has said there's nothing more to be done-- she's getting you a competent Doctor to get a second opinion.
Donna Beneviento
Donna is panicking.
Lady Beneviento is stressed the hell out by seeing you in pain--she hates it. You're lying in a pile of blankets on the floor, unable to be even the slightest bit comfortable because of the pain, and in such obvious agony that your hands are shaking.
Still, she's more than ready to make you feel better. Other than pain pills and more traditional treatment, Donna firmly believes in the power of distraction.
She will use books, movies, heck with your permission she might even use the pollen to craft a hallucination for you to help take the pain away.
(Ethan's encounter with the demon fetus was able to cause him enough harm that he felt it, Donna would definitely try to see if she could use her powers to trick your brain into not feeling as much pain)
She will also be attached to you at the hip, if you need space or can't be touched during your period, you need to tell her up front. She'll be very clingy when you are this miserable.
A little self indulgence here: while Donna does like her tea, she makes a KILLER hot chocolate. If chocolate brings you joy during your period, she has a constant, steady supply of it sent up to your room.
Salvatore Moreau
Salvatore engages Doctor mode immediately. For you to be in this much pain is both not normal and completely unacceptable. He's going to do his best to help.
This man absolutely used to be the Village doctor before his mutation, and as a result does Know His Shit. His siblings and mother may infantilize him to a certain degree, but that is mainly because Moreau's main issues are short term memory problems and his obsessive devotion to Mother Miranda that can make him regress. He's still competent as a doctor, and if he needs to reference anything, he still has some copies of medical textbooks.
He was also a Small Town Doctor, meaning he knows how to treat pain without access to traditional medicine, since often times he didn't have access to it.
It doesn't matter if you're not a tea person, you're still getting tea, made with herbs you don't know the name of and couldn't pronounce even if you did.
He doubles this up with more traditional pain relief methods like extra strength ibuprofen and heated compresses on the area. He might even talk you into doing a few exercises--it can help a lot with pain relief.
Still, when he's caring for you, sometimes he has to leave the room. He uses getting you a glass of water or another blanket as an excuse, but it's really so he can take a deep breath and center himself. Moreau is an empathetic man who loves you to pieces, and watching you cry silently into a pillow just...hurts.
Salvatore also does his best to distract you with anything he has on hand, mostly movies. While you two might normally playfully argue about which ones to watch, he will absolutely defer to you. I would recommend taking this time to watch a scary movie if you're a horror fan, there's literally no other time where Moreau would let you get away with it.
He is at your side constantly, and will only give you space if you ask for it. Even then, he will pop back in every few hours to check in.
Now for Fluff stuff: If you're not careful and watch him like he watches you, Moreau will run himself ragged trying to keep you comfortable.
The best solution to preventing this is coaxing him into bed with you. He might let out a couple of token protests, but one look at your pleading face takes all the fight right out of him.
He will cuddle up to you as close as possible and rub little circles into your back or stomach, whatever feels best. If you two are face to face, you can start to feel yourself relax in time with his breathing, and both of you slowly drift off to sleep together.
It's the best you've felt in days ❤️
Karl Heisenberg
Magnet Man is just... So lost...
You are writhing in agony in your bed, sobbing into a pillow, and so obviously suffering. He HATES to see you like this, because you're hurting and he doesn't know how to fix it.
Karl wants to hurt the things that hurt you, but when it's your own body rebelling against you and causing you pain...He wants to make it better for you but he can't.
He swallowed his pride IMMEDIATELY and called Moreau to the factory. Heisenberg might consider The Lord of the Reservoir to be a little slow in the head, but he used to be a doctor, and Karl is taking zero chances with your health.
He also pops by the Duke to pick up any kind of pain relief possible--Karl literally brings back 8 different brands of acetaminophen, hot water bottles, cocaine, opium, and enough alcohol to give an elephant a blackout. (Maybe he can get you to pass out long enough that you'll sleep through the worst of it?)
You will have to ask directly for cuddles if you want them--as handsy and clingy as Heisenberg is, he is so Bad At Feelings that he will just hover in the corner and work on projects to keep his hands busy. He doesn't know if you want to be touched, and is afraid to ask...but he really wants to keep an eye on you anyway.
1K notes · View notes
minniepetals · 3 years ago
Note
i read the starcrossed one, omg can we gwt a part 2 maybe but like the opposite where they dont leave and decide to go against the king and love MC
“if i had never met you, my heart would still be bound in sadness”
part 1
"I'll be alright."
The words echo well in their hearts as the memory flash so vividly despite time passing by.
They still remember it so well as if it had happened just moments before. The way you held your head up, teeth biting against your quivering lips, with glossy eyes that would never allow the dam to break because you didn't want them to see you cry no matter how desperate you were.
How long has it been since they left you all alone in that apartment?
Too long.
Jungkook scoffs to himself thinking about how pathetic he's being. He's an immortal, the passing of time shouldn't matter to him yet one little mortal is enough to change every perspective he's ever had on life.
"Namjoon," he lets out a whisper in the silence of the room, "I miss her."
Her.
An unspoken name, unspoken words that they've always kept within their hearts for months on by until finally the youngest of the gods courageously speaks the words that were written in their hearts.
"I know we're not supposed to love a human more than any other but..." The words that remain stuck in his throat are words that they know and understand all too well.
He loves you.
They all do.
But a god is not supposed to choose a favorite, to favor one human among the others, to cherish them, to care for them. Yet they've broken that rule a long time ago, haven't they?
"Please, your highness," he lowers himself before the King of the Heavens, causing the other six to stare in shock, "I can't afford to lose her."
The youngest god had always been impulsive and prone to wanting to break and bend the rules but for the first time in their lifetime, they too want what he's asking for.
A life to love a mortal.
"I also do not want to lose her," Jimin says as he steps up beside Jungkook, following along his example.
"And I."
The other four proceed to follow the path, bowing before the King of the Heavens.
"You care for her too, don't you...Namjoon?"
He takes a moment to himself, watching as the other six lowers themselves before him and as King, he's supposed to stand by the laws of the heavens.
But will his heart betray him?
.
.
"Sorry, I'm actually going to take a moment on the rooftop."
"Alright Y/N. See you tomorrow."
Your friend waves you goodbye and leaves the room, leaving you all to yourself once again.
You let out a sigh, used to the emptiness, and turn to the door that leads up to the rooftop of the planetarium. The night breeze hits you well once you find yourself outside, and when you look up at the pretty stars from up above, nostalgia only hits.
It's been a while since they bid you goodbye, you wonder if they're doing well. But then again, why wouldn't they be? They're gods after all, busy with their lives trying to help humans navigate through their lives, making their wishes come true.
If only...if only they could allow one more wish from you.
You sigh to yourself. You can't get greedy.
But still, it would be nice if you made a wish right now and they appear just like last time.
I want to see you, you pray and for a second you feel hopeful. Just for a second.
Yet when nothing happens, another sigh leaves your lips.
"What did you wish for this time?"
A sudden voice so familiar and so gentle.
You gasp as you quickly turn around to find the seven gods you never knew you would ever see again and tears quickly form along your waterline.
Ah. What a miracle.
"Crying again?" Hoseok chuckles as he steps up to you. "Nothing has changed, has it? You were crying the last time you made a wish too."
"...Hoseok."
"Mmn, I'm here."
They did hear your wish? Of course they did, why wouldn't they? They know everything.
But still it's cruel of them to come back after having been gone for months. "Why're you back?" So you ask. Surely it can't just be for your wish, right?
When Namjoon steps up before you, you find those familiar tender gaze he's always held for you. Gentle and pure, the King of the Heavens holds your face in his hands. "We're here to stay."
"Stay..?"
"If I had never met you, my heart would still be bound in sadness." He wipes a tear that you didn't realize had fallen. "So I'm here to stay."
"But..."
"I love you."
Your eyes widen.
You feel a hand on your shoulder, a presence behind you, someone caresses your hair, another one presses a kiss to your temple.
"We love you," they whisper, a vow made by gods who were never supposed to love a human this much. They broke a rule yet none of them seem to regret a thing.
Because for you they would do anything.
139 notes · View notes
scarofthewind · 4 years ago
Note
Could I request for Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt (and anyone else you may want) on how they’d react to cumming very quickly, like they’re having a stressful day and haven’t dont *it* in a long time and it just happens. :) thanks
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I really liked this one....very spicy! Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, R18+, heated make-out sessions, mentions of oral, face-sitting, pet names
Characters: Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees and Bo Sinclair
word count: 2.05k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)
Tumblr media
Thomas Hewitt: 
“I need you to go upstairs for me, pretty girl,” Thomas’ voice sounded darker than you remembered as you walked through the front door, letting your workbag rest against the coat rack. Your lover didn’t give you a moment to speak before he was trudging back down the steps of the basement where you heard a male beg for his life. 
With a sigh you obliged, running your hand down your stiff neck and wondering if you needed to take some time off work. You felt like you hadn’t seen Thomas, kissed him or even touched him in forever and it was starting to get to you. You both hated the fact that work had you going overtime and that he was doing busy work with stuff around the acres of land he had to maintain. All you wanted was to spend at least a full day with him where there was no work, just love making and talking. 
Making your way to the bedroom, you shut the door as the man started screaming, the familiar sound of Thomas’ chainsaw going off as you took your clothes off piece by piece and set them in the laundry hamper, reminding yourself to do laundry when you could. You moved sluggishly towards the shower, pulling the curtain back and turning the water on, getting it ready for both you and Thomas who you could hear bounding up the stairs as the water warmed. 
Strong arms covered in blood wrapped around your middle and chapped lips pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. “No more overtime and I’m taking next week off,” you told Thomas who hummed in response, pulling back to loose his clothing before following you into the warm shower. “I missed you so much,” you said softly, your heart aching at your words as the male stared down at you with a knowing feeling.
“I didn’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead to which you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips, letting the water run over his red-stained skin. “But shit did I miss you too,” he growled against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip while his hands felt up your body. One of your hands traveled down towards his cock, palming it gently and feeling it twitch to life before you began pumping the shaft gently. 
Thomas’ lips worked hungrily against yours as he pressed you against the shower wall, cupping your cunt with one hand before slipping past your lower lips and delving into your aching pussy. A soft cry left your mouth and Thomas felt himself snap at the feeling of your walls sucking on his fingers so tightly. Just the thought of what your pussy would do to his cock made him cum and he pulled away from you, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry it just been so long and-”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” You say softly, bringing his lips back to yours. “It’s not like you can’t get it back up, right?” You smirk against his mouth and let out a shriek when he pulls you out of the shower and takes you to the bed, moving to lay between your legs and bringing his mouth to your sopping cunt.
Tumblr media
Bo Sinclair: 
The man was practically tweaking when you walked into the house, Bo immediatley springing up from his spot on the couch and making his way towards you. “I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn to apologize for our fight last week but please, please, please forgive me.” Bo was frantic, his pupils blown wide and an obvious tent in his shorts that made you bite back a smirk. 
“I can’t get off without you, I can’t sleep, I can barely eat because you know I can’t cook-”
“Bo, please stop talking.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose before pulling him upstairs to your bedroom, him still babbling about useless things the whole way. As soon as you get into the comfort of the room, you shut the door behind you and turn to face him. 
“I mean I can’t even get close to finishing, it’s like my dick’s broke-” you cut him off by grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Taking his hat off and throwing it to the floor so you could run your fingers through his messy hair, you felt him relax against your touch, his hands pulling your body against his. “Please,” he groaned and you obliged, moving him over to the chair by the window and letting him sit down before climbing on his lap and unzipping his pants, spitting in your hand before pumping his shaft slowly. 
“Oh fuck,” he moaned, hips bucking at your touch while his head was buried between your breasts. “That feels so good, baby, just like that,” he let out a string of curse words while you continued your actions, running your thumb across the tip a few times while feeling a familiar wetness grow between your legs. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Bo panted, his hips moving along with your hand as he came in thick white spurts to which you wiped on his shirt. 
“That was quick,” you teased, watching him glare at you before he moved, having you seated on the chair with your legs hooked on his bare shoulders when he removed his stained shirt. “You don’t have to, Bo.” You said, watching him shake his head and pull your pants down along with your underwear. 
“I told you didn’t I? I’m a starving man and I know good eatin’ when I see it,” he winks up at you before slowly making his way to your glistening cunt. With the way he works your body like a finely tuned instrument, it doesn’t take you long to finish either and by then, he’s hard and ready to go again.
Tumblr media
Michael Myers: 
The air was knocked from your lungs the moment you walked through the front door as Michael shoved you against the wall, lips pressed against yours feverishly as his teeth practically clicked against your own. “What the hell, Michael?” You struggled to push the larger man off, moving slightly to the side and wiping your mouth from the wetness of the kiss. 
“I haven’t touched you in over two weeks, do you know what that’s doing to me?” He growled, pressing himself against you, your back one again meeting the wall. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of finally getting off after two straight weeks of overworking yourself and barely getting to see your ‘very busy’ serial killer lover. 
You let out a gasp when his teeth pulled at the skin on your neck, leaving various bite marks and bruises on your already sore body. “Calm down, you’re gonna kill me,” you whimper, feeling one of his hands dip between your bodies to rub your clothed pussy, the feeling still making you weak in the knees. “Bedroom, now.” You ordered, moving out from under him and not bothering to look back, knowing he was following you up the stairs. 
It didn’t take but a few seconds before you were topless, your bra still uncomfortably holding your breasts into place while you were shoved on the bed, Michael crawling on top of you faster than you could blink. Once again, his lips found yours and one of his hands found purchase on your neck, lightly thumbing over the dark marks he left there earlier while his tongue delved into your awaiting mouth. You could feel his cock straining against his pants as he slowly ground it along your pant-clad cunt, your panties becoming remarkably uncomfortable with how wet they were. 
A soft moan of his name left your lips when he slipped his hand from your neck into your pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down enough for him to feel how wet you were. “Oh fuck,” he grunted, his chest heaving as his hands stilled and his lips moved off yours. You stared up at him in confusion as he quickly stood up, stripping himself of his pants and boxers, cursing at the copious amounts of cum that coated his now softening cock. 
“That’s new,” you tease, watching his ears turn red before he curses again. “Don’t be embarrassed, we haven't’ done anything in a while so it’s natural.” You assure him, watching him roll his eyes before moving to lay on the bed. 
“I don’t need this from you, just come here.” He grunts, getting comfortable and curling a finger at you. 
“I don’t get it, I’m not gonna ride you when you’re soft, it’ll-”
“Not my dick, Princess,” he said with a smirk, moving his hair from his face and running a hand along his mouth, his tongue licking his lips. “Come take a seat, I wanna taste you.” You didn’t have to be told twice.
Tumblr media
Jason Voorhees: 
It felt like their were a million things on your mind, but that he wasn’t one of them. Lately with work and your family, you’ve not been able to go out and see Jason all too much and it was starting to worry him. Did you grow tired of him? Did you find someone better?
He missed your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your body, your lips, your cunt; you name it and he was yearning for it. He hadn’t gotten off without you there since before he met you and he wasn’t about to do it again; it didn’t feel right to. So imagine your shock when you come through the cabin door, announcing your arrival and nearly getting tackled to the floor by your giant lover. 
“Jason, I missed you too but I can’t breathe,” you laughed, feeling him loosen his grip on you before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss, his tongue swiping across your lip. A soft sigh leaves your lips and you drop what you have, shutting the door with your foot and ridding yourself of your coat, not caring where it falls. 
Jason can feel the bulge in his pants start to grow and he’s sure you can to by the way you run your hand over it. A shiver runs through his body before he yanks you over to the couch, wanting to be inside you as quickly as possible. “I missed you so much,” you whimpered against his lips when he lays you down gently, his frame moving between your legs and settling against your lower half. With a soft kiss to your palm before placing it on his heart, Jason told you that he loved you without having to speak before bending down again and reconnecting your soft lips with his. 
The cabin was quiet except for the soft pants and moans that came from the two of you as Jason practically humped your leg, his hands groping at the mounds of flesh on your chest while his lips worked wonders on your neck. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute and just as you were about to start peeling clothes off, Jason shot up and practically fell off the couch. “What? What happened? Is someone here, do I need to hide?” You asked with swollen lips, watching him hold one of the couch pillows against his front. 
“Jason what’s going on? Are you okay? Were we going too fast?” Your eyes never left his face but he stared at the floor as the gross, wet, warmth of his cum pooled inside his boxers, his pants showing a wet patch on the front to which he hesitantly showed you. he was ready to be teased but when you told him to come back to the couch, he did. 
“Look at me,” you said, gently cupping his face which was blushing a pretty shade of pink. “It’s alright. We haven’t been together in a while and you didn’t touch yourself while I was gone did you?” When he shook his head you smiled at him softly. “It’s natural to get worked up like that, it doesn’t mean we still can’t have any fun.” You whispered to him, watching his eyes narrow at you slightly before he grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you to the bedroom; challenge accepted. 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes