#stay tuned for the next review

[c0smiccom3t]

OKAY I MIGHT AS WELL UH-

I AM SO SORRY YOU GUYS. BUT. CONFESSION.

...I actually like PJ Masks. THERE I SAID IT!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just What I Needed 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: In an effort to evade a creep, you walk head first into Bucky Barnes. (short!reader)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: based on this

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You keep to yourself. You mind your business. It can be hard in the city where there's always a horn honking or a voice hollering. You know how to get by. How to get through.

Head down, feet moving, just don't stop. The rush of the city tunnels around you, you among the masses unnoticed, forgotten. The way you like it. It's better to be invisible.

The subway is crowded, as it always is. There's a busker playing their guitar out of tune at the other end, an argument across from you, and the ceaseless chatter of a man on his Bluetooth side-eyeing his neighbors. You keep your hands on your crossbody bag and stare at the floor. There's dirty and gum and something wet you don't want to wonder about.

Another stop comes, the rail squealing below, and another horde gets on as only a few bodies leave. The passenger next to you swaps for another. You make yourself smaller. One more stop.

The man smells like body odour and weed. You try not to make a face. You only tuck your chin down and take deliberate breaths.

His arm presses against yours. He leans in and you feel him looking you over. You clasp tightly to your bag and bite down. Is he eyeing you up to rob you? You lift your eyes a scan around quickly. Would anyone bother to stop him?

He startles you as he rubs his knuckle against your skirt. The plaid wool in shades of brown, tan, and a dusty pink. Your brown stockings perfect complement the piece. He continues to move his finger, slowly crawling to your hem. You shift and stand as your stop is called out by the automated voice. Thank god.

You rush over to join the rabble forming for escape. You don't dare look back. You're nearly crushed between the passengers and as good as carried out onto the platform. You get your footing and quickly spin in the right direction.

You pass through the turnstile and your bag catches on the bar. You turn back to untangle it. There's a man coming up. You recognise his tattered cuff. It's the same guy who say next to you. Is he following you?

You unhook the bag and twirl, hurrying away before you can get the answer. You try not to run, not wanting to antagonize him. Or draw any other unwanted attention. Your soles hit the pavement and slip on the first step. You grab onto the railing and take the stairs in a flurry of steps. You're breathless as you reach the top. A whistle comes behind you and a laugh.

"Hey, honey, why don't you wait up. That's a nice skirt," he calls after you in a grizzly voice.

Oh no! You can't stop, but you can't lead him to your work. That's a recipe for disaster. Never let them know where you live or where you frequent. That's what you read online. For all your efforts, it's never happened to you before. Maybe some wandering shadows in the dark steeped in paranoia, but never this.

Your throat burns dryly as your heart hammers. You pass by a couple, a man and woman in business attire. They're entirely blind to you. You give another woman a desperate look but she's tapping her Bluetooth and sighing. Please, someone help. The whistling continues.

"Kitty, kitty," the man taunts.

The smell of exhaust and street meat mingle in a sickening lure. You search around. You think of stopping at the new stand and signalling to the vendor for help. He's clutching a dollar bill and ranting at a customer. No help.

Why do you spend your time reading all those LetsNotMeet stories online? This is horrifying. No cops. The one day you need them and they're just not there.

A man steps up to the hot dog cart ahead of you and checks his watch. You notice the odd metallic glove he wears on only one hand. He might not be better than the one following you but you're out of options.

"Oh, hi," you as good as run into him. He grunts and looks down at you. "Sorry, I'm late," you stutter out the words and send him a wide-eyed pout. "You didn't order without me, did you?"

His brows furrow as you grasp onto his sleeve. You lower your voice as you stand on your toes, "please, pretend you know me."

The wobble in your throat nearly draws tears to the surface. His expression softens. He dips his chin subtly and brings his hand up behind you, ushering you closer to the hot dog cart.

"Two, Mikey," he holds up as many fingers. "Usual for me, and uh, what are you getting, doll?"

You glance over at the man as he stops by the news stand, squinting over at you as he fidgets endlessly. You turn your attention to the man behind the cart. "Um, just relish and... ketchup, thank you. Oh, and please."

The man beside you steps closer, "I see the guy, don't worry, doll. I got you."

You tremble, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do."

"All good," he presses his hand to your back as he keeps you close.

The vendor, Mikey, hands you your hot dog first. "You didn't say you were on the market, pal. My sister's looking." He kids.

"Ha, funny, Mikey." The man beside you says and takes his own order. "Come on, there's a bench."

He guides you further down the street to the bench near the pole. He sits first, then you do. He's calm as you're ready to combust.

"I'm so so sorry," you murmur. "I saw... I don't know."

"It's alright," he drawls and he pulls back the wrapper, "Bucky. You, doll?"

You look between him and the man who wanders closer to the hot dog cart. You swallow and look to your saviour. Well, so far. You give your name.

He nods and bites into his hot dog. You do the same if only to stave off the awkwardness. What were you thinking? You've gone and ruined his life too.

You wince as you sense the creep lurking nearer and nearer. Why won't he stop?

Bucky takes the napkin away from the bottom of the wrapper and wipes his mouth. He curls the wrapper over his hot dog and offers it to you. "Hold this for a sec, alright, doll?"

You take it in confusion. He stands and cracks his knuckles. That shiny glove isn't a glove. It's his hand.

As the creep get closer to the bin a few feet from the bench, Bucky grabs him by his jacket. He shakes him and snarls, lifting him to his toes. He growls but you can't make out his words. The man who followed you goes pale and wriggles. Bucky lets him go. The errant passenger staggers off, nearly stepping into the path of a taxi.

Bucky returns and sits down casually. He holds his hand out and you give him back his hot dog. You stare at your own.

"Thank you. You didn't... have to..."

"That guy was a really cretin." He shrugs. "Can't complain for buying a cute girl a dog."

"Oh, uh, yes, thanks. Again. That's... I have change."

You reach for your purse and he clucks, "don't go and do that. My mom didn't raise me like that."

"Uh, yes, sorry. I wasn't meaning to be... ungrateful."

"Don't gotta be sorry," he sits back.

You bite into your hot dog and silently chew. You were hungry before but it isn't bad. Especially for street meat. Your eyes fall to his hand. He wiggles his fingers.

"It's an upgrade, really," he extends his metal digits to show you.

"I... wasn't meaning to stare."

"It is what it is," he crumples up his wrapper. "Just gotta deal with people hounding me."

"Hounding you?" You tilt your head.

His cheek dimples, "you don't... don't know who I am?"

You think and shake your head. "Sorry, sir."

"Sir? Please," he waves you off. "It's fine."

"Bucky... that's your name." You remember what the vendor called him.

"Sure is," he replies.

"I never heard... no, I don't know," you push your lower lip out.

"Kinda refreshing," he drawls. "Well, doll, thanks for the lunch date," he stands and rolls his shoulders, "want me to walk you to wherever you're headed?"

"Oh, no, I can't ask for that. It's just a block down."

"I don't mind," he says.

You stand and nibble on the last of the bun. You swallow. "Please, I... I'm okay." You look down and up again, "thanks to you."

His mouth curves, just a little, "if.... you really feel like you owe me, which I'm not saying you do, but... maybe I could get your number."

You flutter your lashes. He's asking for your number. Wow. You don't think anyone's ever done that.

"Yeah uh," you press your hand full of bun to your purse and pull open the zipper. You slip out your phone and unlock it. You hold it out to him, "sorry, I can't... type."

"No problem, doll," he accepts it and keys in his number. "Bit of advice, though," he reaches to slide the cell back into your bag, "don't be handing this out to just anyone." He zips up the bag. "I could've been down the block by now."

You make and O with your lips, "oh, I'm..."

"Don't be sorry," he insists. "I'll call you."

"Sure."

"And you'll answer?"

"Of course," you make a face.

"Just wanna make sure," he says. "You have a good day. Oh, and the next time you got some creep on your heels, call me."

You nod and try to smile. You're still a bit shaky but you feel better. You think you can trust him. He saved you after all.

💘

The water spits at you and you back away from the stove. You adjust the dial as you squeak. That burner is crooked and the flames lick ravenously at the small pot. As you try to keep the fire under control, your phone buzzes. Usually there's a short vibe but this is incessant.

You scramble to grab it before the call times out. You tap answer before you can check the ID. You huff breathlessly, "hello?"

"Doll? Everything okay?" The familiar voice greets with concern. It takes a moment to click. It's been a few days since your run-in.

"Yeah, I'm... cooking dinner," you put him on speaker as you go back to the stove.

"Ah, I'm interrupting," he intones.

"It's... okay," you place the phone carefully against the toaster and let it stand. You grab the bag of noodles and pour them into the water. It splashes you and you cheep again.

"Doll?" He rasps.

"I'm fine. Just... clumsy," you affirm. You don't know what to say.

"How are you doing?" He asks. You're happy for his guidance.

"Okay. Tired. How about you?"

"Better now I'm talking to you. Sorry, I couldn't call sooner. I was out of town. Work." He explains.

"Oh, it's... it's fine. Everyone's busy."

He snorts softly, "you are too much, doll. Just too... too much."

"I am?" You wonder. 

The line scuffs as he moves around, "you're not afraid of me, are ya?" He asks. "Did you look me up then?"

"Afraid? Uh, no. No, I didn't..." To be honest, you tried to forget running from that guy from the subway.

"No? Most girls... not that I know many, they do. Don't stick around long."

"Um, right, er, I didn't... look you up. I just... I've been working."

"Course, doll. I know. You're a good girl. It's why you found me. To keep the bad guys away," he cooes.

You stir the noodles with a wooden spoon. You stare at the phone, trying to unravel his words.

"So, I was thinking, tomorrow, Friday, you busy?"

"Not after five," you shrug.

"Perfect. I was thinking something fancy for the first date."

You're quiet as you scrunch up your brow. "Date?"

He laughs, "why'd you think I asked for your number?"

You sniff, "mm, I thought maybe you were being nice."

He thinks that's funny too as he chuckles once more.

"Oh, I can't wait to be nice to you, doll. And more," he purrs. "I'm sure you'll pick out something real special to wear too."

"I... I'll find something," you eke out as your heart flutters. 

A date? You're really not prepared for that; just like that guy on the train.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, doll," he promises. "Just like I did before."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: CALL ME CARDIAC ARREST THE WAY I STOPPED YOUR HEART!

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: by the end of your checkup, you're seriously considering going out with your doctor.

contents: gn!reader. non-descriptive medical themes (you get a flu shot).

doctor!gojo who's your favorite part of your bi-yearly checkups at your local hospital.

doctor!gojo who swings open the door to your checkup room the very second you finish changing into the robe given to you by his assistant. he shoots a cheeky smile at you before sitting down behind his computer, spreading his legs just enough for it to draw your attention.

doctor!gojo who asks how his favorite patient's doing and pauses his review of your file to listen. his clear blue eyes focus on you intently as you speak, and he smiles when you stumble over your words due to the eye contact.

doctor!gojo who raises an eyebrow in mock disapproval when you admit that you haven't gotten your flu shot this year. he sighs dramatically and scolds you for not taking care of yourself (especially because it's getting awfully close to winter) before offering to give it to you then and there.

doctor!gojo who hums a familiar tune while he traces your arm through gloved hands, rolling up the sleeve of your scandalously thin robe and studying your bare skin. he unwraps a cleansing wipe and rubs it over your skin, fingers gently caressing your arm as he does so.

doctor!gojo who playfully asks if you're scared of needles when you grimace at the sight of it. his slender fingers grasp the underside of your arm as he preps you, making sure to keep your nice and comfy as he does so.

doctor!gojo tells you about how one of his coworkers, a nurse he refers to as suguru ended up in a sticky situation earlier in the day. his words take your mind off the shot, and it's over so fast that you hardly even feel it.

doctor!gojo who unwraps and slips a lollipop between your lips after praising you for being a good, complaint patient. he steps out of the room to let you change back into your clothes. a couple minutes later, when he re-enters, he takes his sweet time looking you up and down before walking you out.

doctor!gojo who leans against the wall, white coat draped around his shoulders as you make arrangements with his assistant for your next appointment. at one point, he strolls over and takes a look, sighing dramatically when he sees just how long it'll be until he sees you again.

doctor!gojo who goes out of his way to escort you all the way to the front door of the hospital. and just when you're about to say your goodbyes and thank him for his time, he slips a slender hand into his pocket and extracts a small piece of paper.

doctor!gojo who takes your hand and delicately presses the paper into the palm of your hand. he clarifies that it's his number and not a bomb threat, which makes you laugh (to his delight).

doctor!gojo who sighs and says that he'd love to stay and chat, but unfortunately, he has a job. he makes you promise to call him later, though, and you both leave with your hearts skipping.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch2

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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

A soothing hot tea was just the thing to calm the nerves. All of your worries melted away with each sip. The amount of drink options that were offered for interviews was quite impressive. That's a rich company for sure.

Plus, the music was very relaxing. You had started to wonder about the perks of working here that the website didn't tell you. All you had to do was keep calm and do well during this interview. You had pracited for hours in the mirror.

You could handle a one on one interview!

Reviewing common interview questions, you noticed more people arrive on the floor. Each took a seat away from you, looking around in awe. In total, including you, there were six people. Not a lot for how big his company was.

"Alright. Everyone is here, please follow me to the interview room." A woman with incredible fashion said.

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone got up and followed her. You were last, feeling your nerves kick in. Arriving at the large room, you felt your fears sink in.

This was a group interview.

You were not getting this job. You couldn't do group interviews. It was hard to speak up and you often got over shadowed by other people. Your stomach was twisting as the urge to puke was starting to form. This was horrible.

But you had to be brave!

"Alright. I'm Lyla, normally I won't be conducting the interview, but there was a last minute emergency so you are stuck with me. Shame for the lot of you honestly." Lyla spoke.

You sat near the back since the others took the closer seats. Trying to control your breathing, you focused on the painting behind Lyla. It was a beautiful water color portrait of a foggy forest after a rainstorm. It was quite pleasant.

"I've read your files. I want your names and why you think you deserve to work here." Lyla said harshly.

You were practicing what you were going to say as everyone went their turn. You were going to be the fourth person speaking. All you had to do was say your name and why you would fit in at Alchemax. That was it. Easy.

"Next."

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

You tuned the man out, shocked that he cut you. Rolling your lips inward, you tried your best not to cry as you just repeated what you were going to say in your head. It was always like this. You needed to be louder. You needed to stop being shy.

----------

Miguel rested his head against the palm of his hand as he watched Lyla run the group interview. His focus turned to you since it was your turn to speak. It was cute how he noticed you count the people ahead of you and started muttering to yourself.

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

Miguel scoffed in disgust towards the man. Yes, your voice was low, but you were still speaking. Miguel hated it when people were interrupted. No matter, Miguel had to just stay quiet and let Lyla run this interview.

It was rough. You were being spoken over and interrupted at any given chance. Miguel wanted to see what you were capable of. You sounded so sure of yourself in the elevator. Hell, even shy people need to be given a fair chance.

"Lyla, leave the room for a moment. I want to see something."

-------

Lyla pressed against her earbud, listening to someone from what it seems. You were sunk in your seat, glancing at her.

"Understood." She sighed and released her earbud, "I shall return in a moment. There is a minor set back I must resolve."

With that, Lyla left the room. You gulped since everyone now had their attention towards you. Like wolves glaring down at their prey. You could feel your heart beat in your throat.

"Best if you leave now."

"No, no. She's making us look good."

"She's useless. How she got this far is beyond me."

"A pest if you ask me."

Unable to hold back your tears, you were quick to grab your paperwork. One of the other interviewers quickly forced you back into your seat.

"If you leave, it will look like we bullied you. Just shut up and stay seated. Okay?"

You were hesitant to answer.

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you understand?"

Nodding violently, you quickly wiped your tears. Their grip was harsh against your shoulder. All you wanted to do was leave. Leave and cry. This was horrible. What made you think you had a chance at such a fancy company?

"(Y/N), follow me." Lyla said as she entered the room for a moment.

You were quick to grab your things and leave. Lyla had you follow her to a separate room on the floor. Upon entering, you gasped softly as Miguel sat at a small desk, welcoming you in.

--------

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched your face light up to a familiar friendly face. He motioned you to sit and offered some water to calm you down. Once you had relaxed a bit, Miguel took a seat back at the desk.

"I should have warned you that it was a group interview." Miguel started. You sipped the water,

"N-No, it's fine. Um...I probably...should have prepared better," You muttered.

Miguel just smiled towards you. You glanced up, making eye contact and gasped. Your cheeks were turning red as you accidently dropped the water.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Miguel grabbed your hand, helping you back into the seat. He grabbed the bottle of water and placed it on the desk, "I'm sure you're still shaken up. You can relax here."

"Thank you....T-To be honest, I...I am a little clumsy too...Especially when my...nerves kick in."

"And that's alright. I want Alchemax to be a comfortable place for my-uh, our employees." Miguel cleared his throat.

Who knows how nervous you would get if you found out that he was the CEO. Your face might turn into a tomato at that rate. Miguel wanted to keep you in the dark just a little bit longer. It was refreshing to speak with someone who didn't know his identity.

"Here. I want you to organize this list of meetings for me during a one week schedule."

Miguel handed you two pieces of paper. He sat at the desk, watching you work as you read everything carefully. This was the first schedule that Lyla ever had to work with and it stressed her out trying to fit everything together.

"Done."

Miguel raised his head in surprise as you finished in a matter of minutes. Looking over the schedule you had made, Miguel was surprised. You had managed to work everything out and even give Miguel more time than Lyla did.

"Impressive." Miguel whispered, "Mind if I give you a few more tests?"

"I don't," You whispered calmly.

The next half hour consisted of you working on Miguel's meeting schedules with shareholders, business partners, etc. He role played some phone calls with you and everything else that Lyla would normally do for him.

Despite your shy personality and clumsy nature, you were perfect for the job.

"I must say (Y/N), I'm impressed." Miguel said with a smile as he grabbed your hand, "Be sure to expect a call from us soon. Allow me to walk you to the door."

Miguel watched as your cheeks started to fluster. You stayed quiet while smiling. Honestly, having you work under him would be a treat. It was going to be nice having someone so cute and shy working right under him.

"Um, thank you, Miguel....For giving me a chance," You whispered, stopping in front of the elevator. Miguel just chuckled lowly,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Waving goodbye towards you, Miguel waited for the elevator to close before frowning. He stomped his way over to the interview room where Lyla and the five fools were. Slamming the door open, Miguel gave them all a glare.

"All of you, out. I don't want a single pathetic lot of you ever stepping near this building again."

"Wow, harsh much." Lyla teased as the interviewees nearly begged for a chance.

"I have who I want as your replacement."

"Oh? Don't sound too excited now," Lyla chuckled. Once everyone left, she glanced at Miguel, "That good?"

"Don't be jealous if I say she is better than you."

"Ohhh, ouch. That hurt," Lyla laughed and nudged Miguel's shoulder, "I can't wait to train her."

--------

You were biting your lower lip as you smiled from ear to ear. You weren't sure how, but Miguel was your saving grace. You couldn't wait to get a call from Alchemax now. Recalling the warmth of his hand against yours, you nearly squealed.

"Hopefully I get to work with him~"

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Next Chapter

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[guywrestlingaddiction]

That Wrestling Moment: Hunted - Mark Hunter v Brooklyn Bodywrecker / Clint Morgan (bgeast.com) - Part 1

Some wrestlers come and go in a flash.  Now, while the guy only appeared twice, I have deep, vivid memories of Mark Hunter matches.  Perhaps it was that tall, lean frame I was into at the time, maybe it was because the man was destroyed by two of the best heels out there; whatever it was - let's review them together and see why nothing golden can ever last.  

Mark Hunter v Brooklyn Bodywrecker / Clint Morgan (bgeast.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

The Backstory

We open on Mark, stretching that taught body and showing off that handsome face of his.  The man is beautiful and as one of the early Bgeast matches I managed to view, this bout brings back memories just watching it now.  

Within in seconds, I think we can all guess where this match is headed.  Gorgeous Mark is not your typical wrestler build and going up against the meanest Bgeast wrestler out there, you don't have to be psychic to know what happens next.  

BBW with his trademark break the 4th wall and speak to the camera.

Mark might tower over his opponent in height but the man isn't in the same league as BBW.

The Action

Following a very brief assault by Mark, it's 100% BBW in control of this match.  Almost immediately our heel unleashes a devastating beatdown on the ring post leaving our sexy, strapping Mark completely at his mercy.  

That long lean body looks incredibly vulnerable on the ring post.  

Mark is left exposed and completely at the mercy of BBW

From here on out things only get worse for Mark.  The man suffers exquisitely, and all those moans and cries are like catnip for our heel.  Each whimper, every scream, only seems to energize BBW.  

BBW straddling Mark and having some fun. 

Mark: *Muffle* No, no...

Our First Moment 

You have to hand it to BBW.  If you think smothering your opponent with your speedo was the worst things could get, then think again because the heel manages to one-up even himself. 

That sinister grin, the agony from our jobber.  This is why BBW is king! 

Mark barely gets to catch is breath before ... 

BBW comes back to further humiliate an already trashed Mark

Was this ever a "hunt"?  Well I'd say no, at least not a sportsmanlike hunt.  No, Mark Hunter never stood a chance against an apex predator like like BBW.  The man was broken down physically, emotionally, and humiliated like a gay wrestling toy built for BBW's amusement.

Ladies and gentlemen, it all leads up to this moment.  Our heel can no longer control himself and he begins to take what he wants. 

BBW getting his jobber ready for his own enjoyment.  This is BBW's moment.

Handcuffed in the corner, BBW thinks he can play with Mark as he sees fit. 

BBW gets so distracted with Mark that he misses Clint entering the ring.  Big mistake by our heel, letting his lust take over and letting his guard down.

In the end, BBW was so hungry for Mark that he let Clint get the better of him.  It's heel on heel, with mean BBW looking vulnerable for once in his life.  

Is this the end, was Mark just heel bait for hungry BBW? Stay tuned for part 2 with Mark Hunter and Clint Morgan.

[lupincentral]

Oh my God it’s finally happening!

A brand-new work in the Lupin IIIRD spin-off series, tentatively titled Lupin the IIIRD THE MOVIE is coming to Japan in 2025. While not confirmed at time of writing, the film is also likely to be localised and released worldwide.

Directed by Takeshi Koike (of Redline and previous Lupin the IIIRD fame), the film is set to be feature-length and 2D animated, in line with previous entries.

While details are currently scarce, the teaser trailer (shown at the bottom of this article), mentions that Yūya Takahashi will be returning to write the screen play, and that James Shimoji is also back to handle the soundtrack. Katsuhito Ishii is also on board as a creative adviser. The teaser shows footage from the previous three spin-off films, some clips of the new one (which appears to be Zenigata focussed), and ends with a glimpse at a shaken and beaten-up figure, with the phrase “You don’t know the real Lupin III”.

The Lupin the IIIRD spin-off series first began in 2012, with The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. Labelled “hard and dangerous”, Fujiko Mine took the franchise in a vastly different direction from what fans were used to at the time, telling a darker story diving deep into the femme fatales past, and exploring her relationship with a slightly edgier Lupin, Jigen, and Goemon (and yes, it’s also the one where she has sex with Inspector Zenigata). While the fanbase was divided on this at the time, over the years, a deeper appreciation for the Fujiko Mine series has formed, and more recently, it was given the title of “anime of the decade” by website Fanbyte.

From there, the series continued in the form of three films - Jigen’s Gravestone, Goemon’s Bloodspray, and Fujiko’s Lie. Continuing the storyline and tone from the show, the films shone a spotlight onto each character in a way we had never seen up until that point, helping to create a gorgeous looking film trilogy that no Lupin fan should miss (you can read our review for each by clicking here, if it takes your fancy)! This latest entry appears to follow a similar trend, with Inspector Zenigata getting his time to shine - judging by the teaser and the images released today by Comic Natalie.

Takeshi Koike, who directed the films and acted as a character designer on the original Fujiko series, is a Japanese animator, illustrator and film director. He has previously worked on animated features such as Redline and Afro Samurai - with his first folly in the Lupin series being with the 2012 spin-off show, The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. It is great to see him back at the helm for a fourth film, and we cannot wait to see the see the direction things go - especially after the ending of Jigen's Gravestone, which saw the tease of the return of a fan favourite villain (who can be seen in this trailer, if you look carefully)!

More details are sure to be released on this upcoming film next year - stay tuned!

[buckys-loverman]

Teacher’s Pet- Jeremiah Fisher

What would you do for a higher grade?

warnings: smut, finger banging, 18+ appropriate, slight degrading kink, vulgar language

pairing: fem!reader x jeremiah fisher

A/N: i am back baby!! sorry for taking forever to upload, was having issues with uploading on tumblr but im so happy to be back writing for you guys. i will be uploading a conrad story within the next couple days so stay tuned!

“Mr. Fisher please!” You trailed behind your physics TA, begging for his assistance on the upcoming exam.

“I told you to call me Jeremiah.” He sighed, pushing his hair back as he continued to pace down the hallway, leaving you to jog behind him in order to catch up.

You reached out to touch his arm, “Jeremiah then-” He turned around suddenly almost causing you to crash into his chest, “30 minutes is all I need with you to help me with the review.”

He looked around for other students as he lowered his voice, “This is the third time you’ve been late to office hours, and I can’t keep giving you special treatment for being tardy. Don’t do it again.”

Before you could respond, he turned back around in a quick motion and continued down the hallway, calling your name to follow him to the library.

A burst of excitement spiked through your body as you gladly followed behind him, not complaining as you got extra tutoring time with him.

Jeremiah wasn’t aware that you had been purposely late to office hours in order to get his undivided and uninterrupted attention. You always made the excuse that office hours “overlapped” with your other classes in order for him to feel some form of pity for you.

For who would turn down such a good student?

The study room in the corner of the library was always empty as it was the only one without a white board, but instead a window overlooking the campus. Because of that, Jeremiah was forced to always write down his practice problems in your notebook directly next to you.

You scribbled down your responses to the force & gravity unit questions in your textbook when you notice Jeremiah scanning your body over your answers. In a quick motion, you push back on your chair as you reach for your backpack on the ground, arching your back as you stretch forward with your back to him.

Jeremiah clears his throat as he shifts in his chair, moving his gaze away from you as he returns back to your textbook, seeing what you had previously written down.

“You’ve been doing great this past semester, it doesn’t seem like you need my help?” He states, leaning back into his chair as he scans between your eyes.

You slightly smile as you began to pull your hair back, “I do-” You respond with a naive tone, “I’ve been struggling with force.” Your button up shirt stretched tight against your chest as you put your hair in a ponytail, causing Jeremiah’s eyes to drop for a split second before quickly returning to your face.

You lean forward in your chair, slightly exposing the top of your white mesh bra as you stare with purposeful doe eyes, “I don’t think I’ve had enough examples.” You pout.

Jeremiah’s body tenses up for a second but quickly disappears as his eyes darken. He leans forward, placing a hand on your chair as he analyzes your face; “Are you playing dumb with me?”

A slight smirk tempted to slip from your mouth, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say Mr. Fisher-” you begin to say when a warm hand grips at the bottom of your face, a small gasp escaping from your mouth.

“I told you not to call me that.” His voice was lower than before as he stood tall above you, his eyes sweeping your body without shame. “What are you willing to do for a good grade?” Jeremiah taunts, his fingers trailing down to your neck.

“Anything.” You whisper, maintaining eye contact as his fingers slowly begin to wrap around your neck, mimicking the same firm hold he had on your face just moments before.

Jeremiah lifts your body up, shoving it against the table you were once working on. In a swift motion he grabs the back of your head as the two of your lips combine, rhythmically moving against each other with a newfound force.

Your fingers tangle in his curls, slightly tugging at the ends as a small moan escapes his mouth, giving him more motivation as he makes his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind.

“Students like you learn best through examples- ”His fingers unbutton your top, exposing the rest of your bra that you teased earlier, “So I’ll make sure to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

Jeremiah yanks at your wrist as he pulls you towards the window, slamming your chest to the glass. Your nipples hardened against the cool glass, a sense of panic overwhelmed your body as you see an array of students down below, walking to class or talking amongst their peers.

“What if someone sees?” You question as your mouth felt dry and your head felt dizzy as his fingers trail from the strap of your bra, down to curve of your stomach up until his fingers move their way below your skirt.

“Then everyone will know what a dirty little slut you are for the TA.” Jeremiah whispers in your ear, as his fingers begin to rub slow and sensual circles on top of your clit, the fabric of your underwear beginning to feel suffocating.

The shame you once felt before washed away as moans left your mouth, your head tossing back onto his shoulder as his warm body pressed into yours from behind. The cold from the glass and the heat from his fingers was the perfect combination, your body felt electric between the two.

His fingers moved slowly down your underwear, “God you’re so fucking wet-” Another moan escaped from your mouth as he slowly and painfully moved along your clit, “And here I thought you were a good girl.” You could hear the cockiness drip from his tongue.

“I am.” You whined, your back arching in an attempt to get more friction, only to be met with the feeling of his erection, and did it feel big.

You felt a slap on your clit as you yelped, “Don’t speak out of turn. You got that, princess?” His harsh tone sent butterflies through your stomach as you simply nodded, letting him return his attention back to you.

Jeremiah moved your underwear to the side as he slid one finger inside of you. Another loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt just how long his finger really is, and how well he knew how to use it.

The finger began twisting inside of you, pumping in and out as sloppy sounds echoed throughout the room, your body beginning to overheat as you spread your legs wider.

“Good girl.” He purred, placing a second finger inside of you. The new found sensation overtaking your balance as you pushed yourself deeper into the glass, your nipples peaking through the mesh bra and on display for anybody who simply looked up.

Everything seemed to begin to blur, the pleasure spreading throughout your body as you begin approaching your high. Jeremiah yanks your hair back as his lips meet your ear; beginning to lick and suck as he finds all your sweet spots.

He’s consistent, both of his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast motion, his thumb reaching to draw circles on your clit, “Jere.” Is all you can manage to say as his teeth tug at the bottom of ear.

“Cum for me, darling.”

His words work as a command as your body cannot handle anymore of the pleasure, your legs start to shake beyond control as the heat in your stomach burns stronger than before, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as you experience the strongest high of your life.

Your vision blurs as the sensation overtakes your body, causing you to cum hard on his fingers, giving him the satisfaction he knew he would get from you.

As you begin to adjust back to normal you turn around to see Jeremiah leaning against the table, your textbook untouched behind him, as he intensely licks his fingers where your cum visibly stained.

“Wether you pass the exam or not, I expect to see you back here next week.” He smirks, “For I still have much to teach you.”

—————————————————————————

YALL jere is a slut and no one can tell me otherwise!! this last episode got me giggling & kicking my feet now that i have inspiration for some new stories… ;)

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 26

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- crying in the clubbbb 💔 like and rb and stay tuned for what comes next!

Remy’s POV

My phone buzzed, bringing my attention to my lap. The screen lit up with a text from an unknown number. I figured it was a scam and continued working.

It was finally February, and I was finally back at the office, running around, getting things done for Joe and unofficially co-writing with Rachel. For months I dove into my work and only focused on my goals, before my end of the year performance review, which Joe had postponed due to my accident.

Life was moving fast recently, not giving me much time to process the other aspects of my life. Eating and exercising were things I often forgot to do. Sleeping was also not a priority. There was so much on my plate, but oddly enough it was comforting.

It occupied my brain and took my mind off of personal life matters, such as losing my best friend, to be exact.

My mother passed away last month. I didn’t shed a tear. It was bittersweet. It was weird to think about. The funeral was beautiful, but small. There were family members giving me their condolences that I haven’t heard from since I was in school. It was odd. There were some people I didn’t recognize that swore they held me as a baby. My dad was there too. He avoided me, probably feeling just as awkward as I was.

That was the day I realized I had grown angry and resentful. All of the money I had sent her had been spent, mostly on rent, but also on unnecessary things. She had a boyfriend I didn’t know about. I wondered why he couldn’t pay for her expenses. He seemed nice. He was heartbroken. I found myself trying to mirror his emotion before my aunts’ gossip turned me into the daughter that didn’t give a fuck about her dead mother.

She passed away from a heart attack. She had a past of abusing prescription drugs. It was a habit she picked up after the divorce. She was 3 years clean.

As I said my goodbyes, I realized I hadn’t talked to her in person in almost a year, when I saw her on her birthday the year prior. Seeing her in the open casket reminded me of when I was in the hospital and she didn’t bother to show, yet I was here holding her cold, unfamiliar hand.

I gave myself a moment to mourn what could’ve been, and said a prayer in my head, only for her. She was religious, ironically enough. I was not. I hadn’t prayed in god knows how long. But, I prayed to the universe that she’d be at peace, forgiven by whoever would try to collect her debts, wherever she was now.

When I got home. I melted into my desk chair, focused solely on my work, and haven’t gotten up since.

That about sums up my life right now.

My phone buzzed again. A text from the same unknown number. I opened it, wondering who it was.

Hey I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Ellie, Billie’s girlfriend.

I wanted to invite you to a little pre-valentines day party this Saturday at 7pm! It’s also sorta Billie’s going away party before she leaves for Australia this month. She would love to have you there.

I stopped breathing for a second, reading the messages. I hadn’t allowed myself to miss Billie in a month. I hadn’t allowed my self to think about her. All of her things and all of our pictures were stored away so I didn’t fall apart at the sight of them.

I wondered why Billie hadn’t invited me herself. It almost stung. An invite by formality. I guess I deserved that. Maybe this was her way of seeing if I’d show up.

The thought of explaining myself to her again stressed me out. Nothing was ever good enough for her. My goals didn’t matter to her. That’s how I felt.

I’ll send you the details later. Please come.🤍

She texted me again.

*******

A couple days went by before I actually replied. I thanked her for the invite and let her know I would be there.

The day of the party I took hours to get ready. I was nervous like never before. I decided on some light wash jeans and a white baby-tee. I straightened my hair, wearing it longer than ever, as I didn’t bother to trim or freshen up my curtain bangs due to my busy schedule. I did my makeup the way she liked. Tiny, smudged eyeliner wings at the corners of my eyes, blushy cheeks, lined lips with a dark mauve lip tint and gloss over top. I put on a black faux-leather jacket and drove to Billie’s house.

I decided to arrive a few hours late to avoid the awkward period of time before everyone else showed up, in case things didn’t feel right.

When I arrived, the same security team greeted me at the door. They looked surprised to see me, but let me get through without hesitation.

I walked through the entrance, walking through the halls, making my way towards the noise. In the front room I saw a group of people. Neither of them were Billie.

Finneas looked at me and did a double take. Everyone else remained in conversation. I smiled at him awkwardly and kept walking. The last thing I wanted to do was small talk. I followed the noise into the living room, towards the entertainment area. A multitude of people, but still no Billie.

A beautiful girl, wearing a red, flowy, silky dress walked towards me with a big smile on her face. I took in her presence, taken off guard by her embrace. She squeezed me tight, happy and cheery.

“I’m so glad you came!” She smelled sweet and her aura was warm and inviting. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I guess this is Ellie.

The more she talked, the less I could manage to take my eyes off her. I couldn’t put a pin on it, it began to bother me. Then, I realized.

I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between us two. Her hair looked exactly like mine did when I had time to tend to it, her skin was tan, like mine, our smiles and the way our noses crinkled when we laughed… She was a girlier, prettier version of me. She had dainty tattoos on her arms. Not as many as I, but fuck, we were even the same height. I zoned out, feeling as if I were looking in the mirror.

“Feel free to get some food, there’s lots more in the kitchen. Please, help yourself! I’ll be right back.” She said, walking out into the back yard.

Help yourself. As if I didn’t frequent these halls, and help myself all the time. I looked around, the house the exact same way I left it. I walked into the kitchen hoping to get a moment to myself. I realized most of the people here weren’t the usuals at Billie’s parties. A lot of them, I didn’t really talk to much. I poured myself some sparkling water and tried a few bite size snacks.

I leaned back on the counter, reminiscing on the moments Billie and I shared in this kitchen. All the food we made and all the laughs we shared messing up new recipes, and having to clean up our mess.

Suddenly, I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye, causing me to turn and look. A dark haired figure stood in the doorway.

Billie stared at me, looking like she was face to face with a ghost.

I stood up straight, my brows slightly raised and my lips forming an unsure smile.

Billie looked away, her face reading discontent and disappointment, like she was disgusted that I was here. She quickly walked out, leaving me a mess in her kitchen.

I stood in the kitchen, about to cry, about to run out. I kept my composure, taking a breath and trying to understand what the hell just happened. Wondering why I’m here.

I walked out, b-lining towards the guest bathroom, wiping tears off the corners of my eyes, but heard faint arguing as I passed one of the rooms down the hall. It sounded like Billie’s voice. I got closer and eavesdropped.

“Why the fuck would you do this to me?”

Ellie tried to keep both their voices down, “I thought it would be a good thing. I thought the two of you could talk?”

“If I wanted to talk to her, I would pick up the phone and call her, Ellie. God, what the fuck!” Billie shouted.

“Shh! You’re being so loud. Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you invited her to my house without my permission! You know where I stand. You know that I can’t do this right now. And you bring her here two weeks before I’m supposed to leave for tour?”

The way she referred to me as her pissed me off. Like I was a stranger with no significant value to her.

“Billie, don’t be like that! She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be in your life. You just need to talk, you’re best friends. I thought if I got her here, the two of you would-“

“We’re not friends anymore for a reason! I don’t want to see her Ellie! I was doing fine! I was just fine, why did you have to ruin everything I-“

“No, I wasn’t trying to ruin anything, baby! I wanted you to heal! I wanted you to get closure! If you don’t talk to me, I wanted you to at least talk to somebody!” Ellie said, whisper yelling. Billie didn’t match her volume at all. I could hear the anxiety and pain in her voice. I felt like the ex boyfriend that texts out of nowhere at 3am when you’re finally over him.

The way she tried her best to calm her down… I felt helpless hearing it. I wanted to go in and fix everything myself, the way I always did. I wanted to just go in and hug her tight, even if she tried to fight me off. I’d get on my knees, beg her to forgive me, and make a fool of myself, if it meant she’d be okay again.

At the same time, hearing her talk about finally being okay, and getting over me… it cut deep. Because I wasn’t over her. I didn’t even allow myself to process it. I haven’t had time to process anything that’s happened to me in the past few months. I guess I had me to blame for that.

I walked in, standing at the doorway, watching Billie’s eyes fixed on me, stonewalled.

“Hey, Remy, I’m sorry if you-“ Ellie started.

“I thought you knew I was coming. I thought you wanted me here.” I said, looking between the two. Ellie winced, her plan crashing and burning before her.

Billie shook her head, bringing her hands to the crown of her head and turning around, blowing air out of her mouth. She faced the wall, probably wishing she could teleport anywhere but here.

“I’ll see my way out.” I began to turn, but Ellie rushed over, grabbing my arm, pulling me, and pleading with me. Normally I’d have a problem with a random girl putting her hands on me, but I was so beside myself that I didn’t react.

“I’m obviously not welcome here.” My throat tickled. I cleared my throat, feeling that pit in your stomach that makes you want to sob uncontrollably.

Ellie stood in the doorway, blocking me from exiting. Man, she was strong. “You two need to talk. Hear each other out. Billie, fucking come on! She showed up, she clearly cares about you.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted to see you and apologize.” My voice cracked. I felt like a stranger in her house. The room I had sat in so many times before felt like a cold jail cell.

What a fucking shit show.

Billie swayed, her back turned toward me, quiet as a mouse as she faced the wall.

Billie’s hair was cut differently than before. She wore a blue and white long sleeve, and a pair of wide denim jeans. She threw her little fake glasses on the couch next to her and continued to sway back and forth. I was almost afraid to be in the room with her. Her hands flexing as she opened and shut her fingers repeatedly. Her rings clinked as they hit the others. She cracked her knuckles, her triceps popping out.

Ellie sighed, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this. You need to talk.” She walked out, closing the door.

[k-hippie]

WELCOME TO ... SAN SEQUOIA & COPPERDALE K-505 UPDATE AND K-707 NEWS :)

As we are still in the Bold November, here come San Sequoia and Copperdale K-505, both with their make-over, both ready to fill your need of pixels :)

SAN SEQUOIA ... as you know, the city is based on the San Fransisco Bay and the first thing we remade in this world has been the bridge :) It has to be red. No question :D Then, we made the grass and finished with the streets and roads. In that order ...

As we made a lot of textures work this month, we'll come back with more details in the coming weeks in each world since, you know, ALL the K-505 and other K-Mods have to be updated ;)

COPPERDALE ... frankly, I was quite surprised. Because I didn't expect such a town. Very agreeable to watch and play BUT very complicated to transform with true pixels :D So ... we remade A LOT of things, including the road signs ... many many details to review, many many files to work on, we hope the result will fill your expectations !

We already worked on the trees of the city, and all this is very promising. Which makes me talk about the K-707 ...

The terrible K-707 ..................... :) Already there are some trees from the last 4 worlds that are reworked ( such as the palm trees of Tartosa and San Sequoia ) and indeed I think they are much more interesting than the original ones but the K-707 is a difficult and tricky one and we really have to take care of it from the beginning, aka the base-game ... So, be patient about ;) because it will be super cool.

More news next week with the coming arrival of ... Chestnut Ridge rework ---> At first look, no particular obstacle arise. It should be fairly easy to cover all basics.

So, we're already working on K-707 and some special K-303 we're eager to get out.

Stay tuned, have fun, support our work :D

Give us some caffeine : ko-fi // paypal

k-505 High School Years : Copperdale download

k-505 Growing Together : San Sequoia download

xoxo

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 21

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings; language, minor alcohol, minor anxiety/worry but it's all fluff otherwise. 3k. Wow. We're finally here. It lowkey feels super surreal. The passage of time is wild and I don't remember when I started writing this fic, though I know I had a lot of it written before I started posting so that likely makes it seem longer. When it all comes down to it, this is one of my favourite fics that I've written. I'm proud of it. I'm incredibly thankful to everyone who's been reading it, reblogging and commenting, you are all wonderful and amazing. Stay tuned for plenty more one shots and lots of fun with our favourite characters in the future! Don't wanna miss a fic? Sign up for taglist here! Liked the story? Send me a ko-fi!

Now that you’ve finished the fic please feel free to head into my inbox & leave a legit honest review!! It helps me know what y’all like, what you didn’t like & how to improve future writing both here & elsewhere! 😘🩷

To say that Emily’s mind was not focused over the next twenty four hours would have been an understatement. She knew that dinner was occupying her thoughts, trying to think of the best way to get her words out without fumbling all over them or saying the wrong thing. She almost considered practicing by writing them down, having a speech ready to go if she forgot what she was supposed to be saying. She started to wonder if that alone was enough, if words would be strong enough to win you over or if she needed to stop for flowers, dessert or even something fancier on the way over to your place.

She thought she was doing a decent job of keeping it under wraps while at work until Tara asked what break in the case her and DiNozzo had discovered. When Emily’s brow furrowed the other woman pointed out Tony had been in her office for nearly an hour, the two of them involved in a deep conversation and she could only assume they’d discovered something. Emily’s cheeks burned as she bluffed the best reasoning she could think of before excusing herself back to her office. While the case had been the original reason Tony popped into her office, she’d roped him in to staying, saying he was the king of all movies and tropes, wondering if maybe now was the time for some grand gesture.

He'd shot that idea down, which is why she was pulling up to your place empty handed except for a bottle of wine. The biggest grand gesture she was planning was to greet you with a kiss neither of you would be able to forget. Her heart thudded against her rib cage as she waited for the elevator, letting out a breath in an attempt to relax herself the best she could, a kiss was a kiss, the worst thing that could happen was that you wouldn’t read into it the way she did.

You swung the door open, a soft smile on your cheeks as you stepped back to let her into your apartment. Her hand quickly found your waist but any and all plans she had immediately fell out the window at the hesitancy and anxiety wafting off you and vibrating through the air. She could tell your shoulders were tensed, and you didn’t melt into her embrace the way you normally did, so she settled for a kiss on the cheek as per your usual greeting, following you into the kitchen as she passed off the bottle of wine.

“I’ve got a white open if you want to start with that?” You offered, tucking the bottle she’d brought into the fridge and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” She smiled softly at you, watching you pull down a glass to fill for her, adding in a couple of ice cubes just as she liked it.

“How’s the case?” You asked, picking up your own wine as you leant against the island across from her, “Tony mentioned it was still pretty dead ended, I was kinda surprised you had time to make it tonight.”

“It’s a case.” She shrugged, “there’s only so much we can do right now. Figured it was best to let everyone have the night off, come back clear headed tomorrow.”

As her eyes swept through the kitchen she felt her own anxiety beginning to settle into her bones, her heart still strumming faster than usual in her chest. You had made the plan to stay in for dinner, so she wasn’t confused over your very casual attire of pyjama shorts and a cardigan, but aside from the wine bottle, there was no sign of intending to host tonight.

“Bummer.” You let out a sigh as you took a sip of wine, catching the way Emily nearly jumped at the sound of your voice, her jaw tightening and you were quick to finish you sentence, “about the case! Not that you had time to come over. That’s good, I’m glad. I just uh..” you let out an awkward laugh she wasn’t used to hearing, “didn’t want to make it sound like I was happy there was some psycho killer still out there.”

It was Emily’s turn to chuckle, taking another large sip of her drink, “no, I get it, it’s a tricky line to walk…”

Her accidentally chosen words hung heavily in the air, weighing down on both of you as you let out a quiet hum, staring over her shoulder, your wine glass in front of your face. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest so heavily you were almost certain Emily could hear it or at least could see the way the pulse point in your neck was jumping. It was part of the reason you’d pulled away so quickly at the front door, you didn’t want her to be able to feel it, or your clammy hands, she didn’t need to know you were nervous.

“Hey…” you were almost certain your voice cracked, “I uh, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her face shot up, trying to control the expression written across it when she finally caught your eye, “oh, yeah. Me too, but you first.”

You downed the rest of your wine, your glass likely hitting the island with a little too much velocity as the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could take a second thought. “I think we should end the arrangement.”

Emily felt her heart drop into her stomach, the butterflies that were once there crushed into a churning of bile as she swallowed. This certainly wasn’t what she had expected, she thought she’d read the situation right, followed Tony’s advice that was supposed to lead her in the right direction. Then she felt incredibly stupid, she read body language and people for a living when she’d known them for all of two seconds. Yet she’d spent incredibly intimate and personal hours with you and still didn’t manage to get the right vibe.

“Oh…I, okay.” She placed the half full glass of wine, her eyes not totally focused on anything before she scooped up her bag, “I’ll uh… get out of your hair then.”

You’d caught the way her face fell ever so briefly before she managed to mask it, your heart squeezing in your chest as you darted around the island, managing to catch her wrist in your hand.

“No! Emily, please, no.” You tugged her back to you and when she finally did focus on you there was an evident shimmer of tears threatening to spill into her eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” You let out a shaky laugh, tripping over your words you were speaking so quickly, “well, I guess it is what I meant, but not how I meant it.”

“You… want to rewrite the contract?” She asked hesitantly and you felt the heat creeping up your cheeks.

“More like I was thinking about ripping up the contract…”

There was a moment of relief washing through Emily that you could feel sparking through your body as she let out a breath. Her gaze was still pouring into you and the entire room suddenly felt too hot, causing you to shove up the sleeves of your cardigan, making sure they were settled above your elbows before undoing a couple of buttons to give you a little cool room to breathe. Emily’s eyes darted over your body as her mind continued to race.

“Listen, I.. god…” you shook your head with a laugh. Despite reciting what you wanted to say for hours, you were still totally flustered when it came to saying it to her face. It didn’t help that you suddenly noticed the way her eyes were flitting between your arms and your thighs. “What?”

She looked up, a curious expression on her face, “no blood drawn?”

“Huh?” Your brow furrowed, head titling in the adorable way Emily loved when you were utterly confused. When she was done shooting you heart eyes she suddenly realized her mistake, her tongue swiping out the corner of her mouth as she began to stutter over her words.

“Uh, just… last time you went out of town you had blood drawn.” She shrugged, “I guess I thought it was some kind of travel, germaphobe, don’t want to pick up a flu or something…” She trailed off, kicking herself for letting it slip out in the first place. Her eyes darted down to your thighs again before flicking up to your collarbone, tracing the line up your neck.

Your face relaxed, lips curving up into a small smile when you caught on to what she was doing, and what she really meant. “No…” You shook your head softly, reaching out to squeeze at her hand, “no blood drawn.”

You felt your chest swell, and Emily wanted nothing more than to kiss you to high heaven in that moment, never wanting to drop your hand no matter what the cost. Instead of getting her chance you spoke again, which, honestly, was probably for the best.

“God…” you laughed again, running a hand through your hair, “I really don’t know how to do this, I’ve never done it before.”

“Wait, what?” Her head tilted, “I thought you like, made a side hustle out of sugar babying.”

“No!” You laughed, “Oh my god I’ve done it once and that was like twenty years ago. We had a very specific end date written into the contract and knew nothing was ever going to come of it aside from my tuition.”

“But you’re so knowledgeable about the subject.” She pointed out, thinking back to how confidently you’d flown through the first few months of your relationship, how you always seemed to be a step or two ahead of her when it came to navigating your way through it.

“I’ve done my research?” You shrugged, “seen a lot of examples with Heather. Hell, with a good chunk of other politicians. Listen,” you squeezed at her hand again, pulling the focus back to the topic at hand, “I don’t know how to navigate it like this.” You gestured between the two of you, “I’m not good at it, I guess it’s another reason I’ve stayed so committed to the job… being committed to a person just kind of scares me. I’ve never felt safe enough to open up the way I needed to, never been relaxed around another person to just… let them into my life so comfortably. I don’t know why things happened so differently with you, so incredibly easily and I think that kinda freaks me out too, but I think that fear is more than worth it if it gives me the chance to be with you…really be with you. Because that’s all I really want.”

When she looked up from your joined hands Emily could hear her heart hammering between her ears, the butterflies from her stomach slowly creeping into her chest. You were fully opening yourself up to her, no matter how much it scared you and behind the hesitancy in your eyes she could see something else pouring out, something that she’d been seeing for weeks but was never ballsy enough to say something about.

“I’m hearing everything your saying and believe me I want to respond and I will, but can I do something first?” She asked.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Your brow furrowed for a second, thinking that she had to take a call, that over your racing heartbeat you hadn’t been able to hear her phone vibrate.

Instead you were letting out a little squeak in surprise when Emily stepped toward you, her hands gently cupping your face as she brought her lips to yours. Your arms easily wound around her shoulders, pulling her body directly into yours so you could absolutely melt against her. You were instantly lost into the kiss, feeling like everything inside of you was exploding in the best way possible. Somehow the thundering in Emily’s chest was calming down as her lips moved against yours with ease, as if that was exactly where they were meant to be. The sweet smell of your shampoo invaded her nose, you invaded every single one of her senses and there was absolutely nothing else that she could ever possibly want.

Her tongue traced the seam of your lips and you easily parted them, wanting nothing more than to be able to fully taste her. Your had crept up the back of her neck, fingers gently toying with the roots of her hair, your thumb stroking at her skin. Her tongue explored your mouth, rolling against your own and she couldn’t help but let out a small groan into the kiss. When your fingers ever so slightly tugged on her hair she retaliated by nipping at your lower lip while her own curved up into a grin. A small laugh broke free from your mouth, neither of you pulling away as you relaxed deeper into each other, giggles and smiles prevalent through a series of smaller kisses until you couldn’t stop them.

Emily’s forehead rested against your own as she stole one more kiss, her hand cupping your chin, thumb tracing your lower lip and you couldn’t help but press a tender kiss to it.

“I know it can be scary…” she started, “it scares me too and honestly I’m not sure if I’m particularly great at it either. I’ve been trying to untangle my thoughts and emotions for weeks, maybe even longer and it’s been driving me insane. All that I really know is that I love spending time with you, I’m happier when you’re around, you make me laugh, you encourage me to be my best, I even sleep better with you next to me and I want so much more of all of that in my life. So…maybe we can figure it out together?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a bright smile on your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye that absolutely made her weak in the knees, “I’d really like that.”

With another adorable giggle you surged closer to her, kissing her again, your hands tugging at the fabric of her shirt, pulling her impossibly close. You couldn’t get enough of each other and it made Emily laugh again between the kisses.

“Jeeze,” she shook her head, “I can’t believe DiNozzo was right.”

“DiNozzo?” You murmured; head full of butterflies as you stole another kiss. Though once his name was on your lips you were crashed back down to earth and you leant your torso away from her, “were you talking to Tony about our love life?!”

“Uh, maybe?” She winced, her cheeks tinging as she laughed, “I mean, it turned out he did give some pretty good advice.”

“Oh god.” You hung your head, “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

“At least it was worth it?” She suggested and you smiled across at her, pressing your lips to hers.

“It definitely was.”

Her hand caressed your cheek again as she leant in to kiss you, unable to help herself at this point and you weren’t about to deny her. Right as your lips met you jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

“You expecting someone?” She asked, her arm almost tightening around your waist as you laughed, swatting at her arm.

“It’s dinner.” You grabbed your wallet from the island, “did you really think I was going to cook after such a long day?”

Emily shook her head at the look in your eyes as you disappeared around the corner. Choosing to take the time you were dealing with the driver to collect your wine glasses from the island, refilling both before selecting cutlery and setting things up on the coffee table.

“Hope you’re okay with Indian,” you started, setting the bag down on the table as you tucked a leg under yourself on the couch, “I had a craving.”

“Cuisine doesn’t matter as long as I’m sharing it with you.” She replied and you felt your heart thud in your chest, your body melting at the look in her eyes as she gazed over at you.

“You fucking sap.” You teased, choosing to distract her from the misting of happy tears in your eyes by jumping into her lap, your lips meeting hers for another kiss.

Emily’s hands ghosted up your sides as yours settled on her face, thumbs stroking at her cheeks while your tongue explored her mouth. You let out a happy sigh into the kiss that she eagerly swallowed down, her entire being relaxing at the way you were melting into the embrace.

“What?” She asked softly, a smile on her face as she nudged your nose with hers.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, unable to control your own bright smile.

“Oh c’mon.” She prodded at your sides, earning a squeal from you, “don’t pull that crap anymore.”

You laughed, gazing down at her as your thumbs continued to soothe across her cheeks, “I just guess I’ve spent so long avoiding it and being scared that I never realized it could be this easy to fall in love...”

“You’re in love with me?” If it had been even a day earlier the question would have been filled with worry, but right now Emily asked it with a tease in her voice, because she already knew the answer. You didn’t need to say it, she could feel it, the warmth flowing through the room, wrapping itself around the two of you as you perched in her lap. She wasn’t scared to hear anything you had to say and she knew she felt the same way.

“Yeah…yeah I am.”

“Good.” Her hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you to her for another kiss, this one deeper and a little longer than the last. One that you could feel her emotion in, joy dancing deep through your veins as your heart began to strum in time with hers, “because I’ve been in love with you for weeks. I never thought we could end up like this when we started… but here we are.”

“Mmm.” You left a kiss on the tip of her nose, “and I wouldn’t have it any either way.”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's hump day, my dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don’t see Bucky at all the next day. His motorcycle is gone when you leave for work and when you come back. You assume he has his own work to do, or some running around. He did just move in. You try not to take it personally but you are disappointed. 

This is a lot more fun than all those other times. You’re not as stressed, not as insecure. Maybe it’s because you’re not hoping for more. Because you took a page out of Angelique’s book and stopped caring. One way or another, you’re going to get rid of your v-card. It doesn’t have to be special, it just has to happen. 

On your day off, you decide to get rid of the prickly weeds around the front porch. It's the perfect opportunity for you to show off your shortest shorts and blast some tunes while you’re at it. You put on your rose gold headphone and the best of girly pop. 

You smell coffee but don’t see your neighbour. You don’t want to be too obvious. You get down on your knees and pull-on the dollar store gardening gloves. You’re not good at any of this but these damn plants keep scratching your ankles. 

Before long, your alternative motives drift away as you wrestle with roots. You yank free a particularly stubborn weed and send up a cloud of dandelion fluff. You sneeze into the back of the glove. A shadow passes over you and a gentle tap lands on your shoulder. 

You squeak and drop the leaves. You pull off your headphones and twist to look up at Bucky. Your shoulder tingles where he touched. It’s hard to think someone like him can be so soft. 

“I’m headed into town...” he crosses his arms, the cleft in his chin deepening as he mulls his words, “you said you wanted to test out the motorcycle...” 

“Oh really!” You exclaim as you look up at him. You focus on his face, even as you’re innately aware of how close your are to something else. “Oh, Bucky, that’s so awesome. I’ve been so excited for this.” You gather up the compost bag and he offers his hand. He hauls you up to your feet and reluctantly let go. “I’ve been so patient.” 

He hums, “you can’t wear those. You’ll get burned.” 

He looks down at your shorts. You giggle. You pull off your gloves and clutch them together. “I’ll get changed. I have the perfect pants!” 

He just nods. 

“I’ll wait,” he assures and points over his shoulder. 

You grin and spin to rush away, headphones bouncing around your neck. You dump the gloves and bag on the porch and clatter through the door. You stop to wipe the dirt off your knees and strip off your shorts before you get to the bedroom. 

You search out the fake leather leggings with all the fake zippers. The sun won’t be kind but you don’t mind. You slip into them and find a strappy red top with a bandana style cut at the hem. The bejeweled letters across the front read ‘sinful’. It’s cheesy but you love it. 

You find a pair of sunglasses with thick black cat eyes and trade your sandals for leather booties. You hook your purse across your body as you come out with a jangle of your keys. You zip those away with your phone as you come down the stair. 

Your chest jiggles with each step as your upper tummy peeks out beneath the fabric. Bucky looks over and arches a brow. You approach as he takes a helmet from the handlebar. 

“Found a spare,” he offers. 

You take it and thank him. His eyes skitter between you and the bike. You giggle and tap your heels in excitement. You're genuinely amped up for this. 

“It’s so cool!” You say, “oh, will you take a picture of me with the bike?” 

He squints and his cheek dimples. He shrugs, “sure.” 

“Amazing,” you unzip the small crossbody pouch, “here.” 

You unlock your phone, your background a picture of you, Angelique, and another friend, Tracy, your backscreen. You bring up the camera and hand it over. 

“Oh, can I get on or?” You face the motorcycle. 

“Sure, be careful.” 

You put the helmet on and let the straps hang loose. First you pose in front of it and cock your hip. He aims the lens, your flowery blue and purple case looks dainty in his large tattooed hands. Then you cautiously approach. He comes closer and puts his hand under your elbow to help you onto the backseat. You notice the backrest that wasn’t there before and the shining new chrome bolts that hold it on. 

You straddle it as he backs up. You stick your tongue out for another picture. Then you smile and give a peace sign. 

He lowers the phone and nears, offering it to you. You snag his forearm, “and a selfie? Together.” 

He twitches. “I don’t much like pictures.” 

“Just a memory. Promise, I won’t show anyone.” 

He growls and shows his palms, “what... what do you want me to do.” 

“Here, turn,” you direct him, “put your arm around me and get in frame.” 

You flip the camera and extend your arms. He moves stiffly and hovers his arm over your shoulders. He smells like oaky cologne. You smile as he growls at his own reflection in the phone. You lean into him and watch his features calm then snap the photo. 

“So cute,” you exclaim. “That’s my new wallpaper.” You tap on the three dots and quickly replace the pic of you and your girls, “see.” 

“Huh?” He stands straight. 

“Everyone’s going to think I’m so badass. I mean, I’m not, but they’ll think I am,” you chime. “Oh, uh,” the straps tickle your neck as you put your phone away, “Bucky, I’m so dumb. Can you help?” 

You pinch the straps and flick your lashes at him. He exhales again. You stare at the front of his plain black tee. It clings to his muscles and squeezes his thick biceps. He takes the straps and loops one through the metal ring. His fingertips brush your throat and chin. 

He slowly tugs it snug and his hands freeze. He stares at them and his gaze slowly crawls up to your lips. The air turns stolid around you. He winces and puts his hand on the helmet, wiggling it to test it. 

“Good to go,” he drags his hand off and turns his back to you.  

He grabs the other helmet and pulls it on over his hair. He slides on his sunglasses before he straddles the bike in front of you. He grips the handlebars and takes it off the stand, kicking it back as he easily supports the heavy beast of a bike. His strength is felt in the shifting axel. 

“Gotta hang on unless you want road burn,” he says over his shoulder. “Gonna be loud.” 

“I can handle it,” you assure him as you lean in and wrap your arms around his middle.  

You feel his stomach clench. He turns the key then brings his hand back to turn the throttle, making the bike roar. He walks it back and angles it down the street. He gets it rolling then puts his feet up, zipping off through a tunnel of wind. 

You let out a gleeful holler. The rush is unlike anything you felt. Your heart is pumping and your veins are on fire. You hug him tighter and laugh raucously. 

He stops at a sign and plants his boots, “you okay?” He calls over his shoulder. 

“I’m perfect. I’m-- I’m in heaven!” You answer and wiggle in the seat. 

He takes off again. You squeal and cling to him. You watch the smear of the buildings, trees, and pavement. You feel like you’re flying. Not to mention, you’re vibrating. You feel your leggings getting wet. This is more than fun, it’s fucking hot. 

At last, he stops and quiets the beast. You look around the plaza as he kicks down the stand. He waits and signals you off first with the tilt of his head. You get off and he follows. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says. “Boring stuff.” 

You look over at the organic shop sign. You laugh, “are you buying gluten free granola?” 

“Something like that,” he almost smiles. Almost. 

“Hang onto that,” he taps the helmet. 

You unloop the straps and hang it from your elbow, “yes--” you have to stop yourself from saying daddy. You’re not sure if it’s a joke or serious at this point. “Sir.” 

He eyes you then scoffs, “alright, then, doll, let’s go.” 

His cheek ticks and he looks away. He turns his back to you quickly and beckons you with his hands. You follow. 

“Doll,” you say. 

“Sorry--” he begins. 

“I like it. It’s cute! Like a Barbie, right?” 

He sniffs and opens the door of the shop, “sure, something like that.” 

Or a sex doll? You think to yourself. You nearly dance through the door. This is an amazing day. 

He enters behind you. You radiate to the rack of plant-based candies. They are all so colourful. He sidles along to the bin of trail mix. He takes a paper bag and dumps a scoop inside. 

“They have any with M&Ms?” You shuffle up next to him. He grunts. “Kidding.” 

“Good food,” he mutters. “Nice place.” 

“I’ve never been before,” you say. “You’re not vegan? That pie I made had real meat?” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “nah, just... try to appreciate the small things, these days.” 

“Right. Well, it’s a really cool place—oh, cookies!” 

You brush by him and snag up a box of the vanilla glazed shortbread. They look delicious. You turn to him and grin as you show him. 

“Small things, right?” You bounce back toward him. 

He stares at you a moment, “yeah.” He nods and folds over the top of the paper bag. “There’s... there’s a bar around the corner.” 

“Oh, a bar?” You chirp. “How about I buy you a round? For the ride?” 

“Mm, I was just gonna run over and deal with... talk to a friend.” He browses as he speaks. “Thought you could wait with the motorcycle.” 

“Oh,” you deflate, “whatever you like.” 

“Or... you can sit for a drink. Won’t be long,” he shrugs. 

“Bucky, I’m all yours. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

He coughs and grabs a loaf of ten grain. 

“One drink,” he grits out. 

👙

You buy your cookies and Bucky his small haul of groceries. He fits it all in his saddle bags as you watch. He comes around and points you around the other side of the plaza. He walks beside you. As you think about how you must look together, you get all fluttery. 

You’re tempted to grab his hand but you don’t want to spoil all your progress. After all, he invited you. And now he’s taking you for a drink. Sort of. 

He holds the door at the bar for you, greeting the bouncer with familiarity. You look around the dim space. It’s just after noon, there’s not too many people there. He points you to a table. 

“What do you drink?” He asks. 

“Do you think they have appletinis?” You ask. He blinks. You laugh at him. “Joking, I’ll have a light beer. Any brand.” 

“Right, doll, coming right up.” 

You sit and watch him go. He talks to the bar tender and points to the table. Then he walks up around the curve of the bar and into the backroom. You narrow your eyes curiously. Huh. 

The bartender pulls a tap and pours the pint. He brings it to you. “Miss.” He retreats as if he’s afraid of you. Before you can even thank him. 

You pull the tall glass close as condensation hazes along the outside. You taste the thin layer of foam. It’s a bit tangy. You peer around listlessly. This isn’t very exciting. 

This isn’t the typical sports bar. There's a pool table and a dartboard but no TVs for the games. There’s leather jackets and skull emblems and a few disarmed guns on wooden plaques. 

There’s a thunk from the back of the bar then the slam of a door. You peer over as Bucky emerges and stops at the bar. Without a word, the bartender pours him a dark glass of liquor. He grabs it and marches over to you. He sits and sighs. 

“Had to hit the restroom,” he says. 

“No worries,” you make yourself drink the beer. Wheaty. 

“You make up your mind?” He asks. 

“Hmm,” you wipe foam from your lip. 

“About the motorcycle. Still want one?” 

“I definitely want one!” You grin. He brushes his fingertips over his knuckles. They’re reddened. Is one of them split? Were they like that before? 

“It’s an investment. Those new ones are... well, if you’re looking for a vintage model, I know some people. I could do any bodywork you need,” he offers. 

“Really? Oh, Bucky, you’re so sweet!” You chime. 

His mouth slants, curving at one corner. He takes a swig of his drink. 

“Not really, doll,” he rests his chin in his hand. “But for you, I’ll try.” 

[til-all-are-loved]

{This Charming Man Part Three}

MTMTE Megatron x Reader

SFW

Part one Here

Part two Here

Dropping the bullet format from now on. I regained my writing confidence.

--

Two weeks had passed, and you were beginning to think Megatron’s late-night visit had been a one-off oddity. He hadn’t sought you out since, and apart from a faint nod in the hallways—a gesture that left you wondering if you’d imagined it—everything seemed to return to normal.

That is, until the next leadership debriefing.

You arrived early, as usual, settling into your customary corner with your datapad. Rodimus was already there, sprawled in his chair like he owned the room (which, in fairness, he sort of did). Magnus was reviewing the agenda, his expression as rigid as his frame. Megatron entered last, his presence hawkish, though this time he glanced at you briefly as he sat down.

The meeting began uneventfully, dominated by the usual back-and-forth between Rodimus and Ultra Magnus. You dutifully took notes, tuning out the more repetitive points—until Megatron’s voice cut through the noise.

"Ambassador," he said, the word sharp and deliberate.

Your head snapped up. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at you.

"Y-Yes?" you managed, cursing the wobble in your voice.

"What is your input on this?" He gestured toward the holographic display, which was currently projecting several spreadsheets of shift schedules and statistics “Would you consider this approach... practical?”

You blinked, quickly scanning the notes you’d been half-ignoring. It was a logistics issue—something about the allocation of resources to working crewmembers. Hardly your area of expertise—this was a mind game meant to catch you off guard.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to—”

“You should know this.” Megatron interrupted sharply, his tone making it clear that this wasn’t a suggestion. He came off like a teacher who had just caught a student distracted.

You swallowed, your hands clammy and face hot, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “Well... if I’m honest, it seems like you’re prioritizing efficiency over flexibility. Which makes sense if operations on the ship continue perfectly, but since unexpected situations are bound to happen around here- these shift schedules should be a bit more lenient. It would help morale aswell...”

The silence stretched. Rodimus raised an eye ridge, clearly entertained, while Magnus’s expression didn’t shift an inch. Megatron, however, nodded slowly, his optics narrowing in what you hoped was approval.

“An insightful observation,” he said finally. “One worth considering.”

Rodimus snorted. “Since when do you listen to organics?”

Megatron shot him a look that could have melted steel. “Since they’ve proven themselves more capable of rational thought than certain co-captains.”

Rodimus opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, muttering something about “walking tanks with superiority complexes.”

The rest of the meeting proceeded without incident, though you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the room’s dynamic. Megatron addressed you twice more, each time with the same deliberate tone, and by the end of the debriefing, you felt less like a fly on the wall and more like an active participant.

When the meeting adjourned, the crew began to filter out, but Megatron lingered, standing near the holographic display as though lost in thought. You hesitated, unsure whether to leave or stay.

“Ambassador,” he said without turning around.

You froze. “Yes, Captain?”

He turned, his optics locking onto yours with that same piercing intensity. “Your input today was... appreciated.”

You blinked, startled. “Oh. Um, thank you.”

A flicker of something—satisfaction?—crossed his face before his expression returned to its usual stoicism. “That will be all.”

You nodded quickly, making your way to the door. As you stepped into the corridor, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted again, another piece falling into place in this strange, tentative connection between you and the former warlord.

And this time, it wasn’t just in your head.

--

Your quarters aboard the Lost Light were a modest affair: a desk cluttered with datapads, a chair that wobbled slightly no matter how you adjusted it, and a small viewport that overlooked the endless expanse of stars. You were lucky to even have been placed in a proper suite to yourself. You had originally been assigned to live in a storage locker, but Magnus made an ethics plea to get you in a hab-suite. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, a tiny refuge in the chaos of the ship

Tonight, however, it felt like anything but.

You sat at the desk, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. The report you were supposed to write���your monthly update to Earth—remained stubbornly unwritten, a yawning blankness where there should have been paragraphs detailing Megatron’s behavior, the state of the crew, and any noteworthy developments.

Your fingers hovered over the keys.

"Captain Megatron continues to demonstrate a notable shift from his Decepticon past..."

You frowned, deleting the sentence almost as soon as you typed it.

The truth was, describing Megatron in clinical, detached terms was difficult this night. In the beginning, it had been easy. He’d been distant, cold, and indifferent to your presence. A warlord trying to wear the mask of an Autobot. You could observe him like a scientist studying a volatile specimen.

But now...

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples.

Now, he wasn’t just a subject of observation. He was a puzzle—a maddeningly complex one—and you couldn’t seem to stop turning the pieces over in your mind. His grudging respect for you during meetings, the way he seemed to seek your input without ever outright admitting it...

And then there was the visit to your quarters.

The memory made your stomach flip, and you pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the screen in front of you.

"While tensions remain between Captain Megatron and certain members of the crew, his leadership continues to stabilize..."

You stopped again, staring at the words. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it? Yes, there were tensions, but they weren’t the focus anymore—not for you. What you really wanted to write about, though you’d never admit it aloud, was how those rare glimpses of humanity (or whatever the Cybertronian equivalent was) had started to intrigue you.

No, intrigue wasn’t the right word. It was a blossoming fixation.

You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. If you were honest with yourself—which you were trying not to be—you didn’t just want to observe Megatron anymore. You wanted to know him. To understand the contradictions in him, the weight he carried, and why he seemed to value your opinion despite the vast gulf between your worlds.

You wanted to spend more time with him.

The realization hit you with the subtlety of a collapsing bulkhead. You stared at the screen, your cheeks growing warm.

This was bad. Really bad.

How were you supposed to write an objective report when your feelings—because that’s what they were, weren’t they?—were starting to get in the way?

You tapped out another sentence.

"Megatron continues to exhibit behavior that suggests a growing interest in cultural exchange, particularly with regard to human literature..."

It was true, technically. And it was safe enough to include without giving too much away.

You leaned back again, staring at the cursor blinking on the half-finished report.

What would Earth make of this, you wondered? If they knew how much your perspective had shifted—how much you’d come to see Megatron not as an assignment, not even as a captain, but as...

You closed your eyes tightly.

A crush?

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning. Of course it would come to this. The awkward glances, the fleeting scraps of attention he spared for you, the strange pull of his authority—it all felt like something plucked from an ill-advised daydream. A ridiculous fantasy.

And yet it didn’t feel ridiculous, not when you were alone with your thoughts.

Your hands fell to the desk as your gaze wandered. What did you really know about him, after all? His crimes were well-documented, spread across countless files and testimony. The betrayals, the thirst for power, lives destroyed in his pursuit of revolution—they painted a picture of someone you should despise. Someone you shouldn’t even entertain these feelings about.

But people could change, couldn’t they? He had made the choice to change, after millions of years of warfare and unthinkable consequences. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

You sighed and closed your laptop with a firm snap, pushing it away as if that might also shove aside the thoughts clawing at your mind.

"This is tomorrow’s problem," you muttered to yourself.

But even as you crawled into bed, filthy shame twisted tightly around your chest, refusing to let go. You tossed and turned, willing the gnawing thoughts to stop, willing sleep to take you.

It didn’t come easily. It didn’t come at all.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka Rules Breakdown! Episode 1 of an Actual Play of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by the Tiny Table Podcast!

Episode 1 is out now, and you can listen to it right here!

This is the first ever Actual Play of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, so we’re super excited, especially since Tiny Table really puts the “Actual” in “Actual Play.” They may edit out a stutter or bad mic read here and there, but you won’t find any prescripting of character arcs or setpiece events, just them, the rulebook, and the module.

This first episode is only about 15 minutes or so and introduces you to a brief rundown of Eureka’s rules and concepts. If you have been wondering what all the fuss is about with Eureka, but don’t feel like you have the time to download the free beta version and give it a read, then this fifteen-minute rules breakdown might be a great place to start!

The next episode, releasing on Tuesday, August 20th, will be the start of the actual Actual Play. Stay tuned for the Tiny Table crew to tackle FORIVA: The Angel Game, an adventure module for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.

FORIVA: The Angel Game is a 1990's investigation that sinks deep into a pit of dread and intrigue as the investigators step forward into a bizarre psychological horror mystery - one which may leave them unable to recognize themselves on the other side. To seek out the truth, an investigator must use all their wits and all the resources at their disposal - but only they know if they are ready to fall into the unthinkable rabbit hole that awaits. Stranger and stranger the story shall grow - and stranger still, what will grow in those who follow it.

Somewhere, a mother stares wordlessly at her hospitalized son who doesn’t recognize her, and wonders why this is happening to her family. Somewhere, a private detective smiles as his client offers a generous reward for someone–anyone–to blame for what was done to his children. Somewhere, a young girl tears down the advertisements that were covering up the missing poster of her friend. 

The year is 1999, and society is equal parts optimistic and apprehensive about the new millennium. Fears of the Y2K bug are circulating, Bill Clinton is still in office, and the popularity of video arcades is on the decline.

A rash of hospitalizations and disappearances has struck in Shreveport, Louisiana, with all of the victims so far being teenagers and children. Each case might at first seem unconnected, save for their close proximity in time to one another sending ripples throughout the community. Local news has been covering the story for days now, capitalizing on the fear and uncertainty of concerned parents, something that might seem like a distant problem to each investigator, until it strikes someone they know….

Having already listened to the whole thing ourselves, we can assure you that listeners who stick with it are in for a real great time! Episodes will be coming out each Tuesday, ending with a post-adventure discussion, and then an interview between the Tiny Table team and the A.N.I.M. team!

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!

You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[felassan]

Game Informer:

"Cover Reveal – Dragon Age: The Veilguard by Wesley LeBlanc on Jun 09, 2024 at 02:00 PM This month, Dragon Age: The Veilguard (you read that right – Dreadwolf is no more) graces the cover of Game Informer. After years developing Baldur's Gate and its sequel early in its history, BioWare struck out to create its own fantasy RPG. That series began with Dragon Age: Origins in 2009. It was followed up with Dragon Age II in 2011, and then Dragon Age: Inquisition in 2014. While the Dragon Age series' history has its ups and downs, fans have been patiently waiting for BioWare to return to the franchise, and 2024 is finally the year.  We visited BioWare's Edmonton, Canada, office for an exclusive look at Dragon Age: The Veilguard, including a look at its character creator, its prologue and opening missions, and more. We also spoke to many of the game's leads about the name change, the series' shift to real-time action combat, the various companions (and the relationships you can forge with them), and The Veilguard's hub location. You can learn about the titular Veilguard, Solas' role in the game, and so much more in our 12-page cover story for Dragon Age: The Veilguard."

"But there are plenty of other excellent reads within this issue of��Game Informer! Some of us flew to Los Angeles, California, to attend Summer Game Fest and the not-E3 weekend's various other events to check out new games, interview developers, and more. Our previews section is jam-packed with new details about upcoming releases we can't wait for.  Brian Shea flew to Warsaw, Poland, to check out two upcoming releases – Frostpunk 2 and The Alters – and he came away excited about both. Jon Woodey went hands-on with Final Fantasy XIV's upcoming Dawntrail expansion (and spoke to director Naoki Yoshida, too), and as someone with 8,000 hours in the game, his words are the ones you'll want to read.  On the freelance front, Charlie Wacholz writes about how last year's Dave The Diver is one of the best game representations of the rewards and struggles of working in the food and beverage industry, and Grant Stoner spoke with Sony and Microsoft about the development of process and history of the companies' Adaptive and Access controllers. And for a lil' terror this summer, Ashley Bardhan spoke to several horror game developers about why the alluring town known as Silent Hill is a crucial location to Konami's horror masterpiece.  As always, you'll find an editor's note from editor-in-chief Matt Miller, reviews from various freelancers and staff editors, a Top 5 list (hint hint: dragons), and more. Here's a closer look at the cover:"

"Not a print subscriber yet but want this issue? Well, you're in luck! Subscribing today – or within the next few days – will net you a print copy of this issue! You can join the ranks of the Game Informer print subscribers through our new standalone print subscription! Just head here to sign up for either one or two years at a fraction of the cost of buying the issues individually! You can even gift a print subscription to your favorite gamer! SUBSCRIBE TO THE PRINT MAGAZINE You can also try to nab a Game Informer Gold version of the issue. Limited to a numbered print run per issue, this premium version of Game Informer isn't available for sale. To learn about places where you might be able to get a copy, check out our official Twitter, Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, BlueSky, and Threads accounts and stay tuned for more details in the coming weeks. Click here to read more about Game Informer Gold. Print subscribers can expect their issues to arrive in the coming weeks. The digital edition launches June 18 for PC/Mac, iOS, and Google Play. Individual print copies will be available for purchase in the coming weeks at GameStop."

[source] <- they explain at the link how to read this issue.

aaah they have had a look at the character creator!!! I can't wait for this coverage.

[glowettee]

✧ thrifting guide for the girlies: part 1/10 - getting started ✧

hey lovelies! mindy here from glowettee 🎀

today we're starting a super detailed guide/series on how to become a thrifting queen. i've been thrifting for years and honestly? it's become my favorite way to build a dreamy wardrobe without breaking the bank.

first things first, let's talk about why thrifting is literally the best:

it's so budget-friendly (more money for your coffee runs!)

it's sustainable and eco-conscious (we love mother earth)

you can find unique pieces that nobody else has

vintage treasures that tell stories

designer finds at fraction of the cost

before you start your thrifting journey, here's what you need to know:

mindset matters don't go in expecting to find everything in one trip! thrifting is like a treasure hunt, and sometimes the best finds happen when you least expect them. patience is key, bestie.

2. basic supplies to bring:

a tote bag (save the planet + look cute)

hand sanitizer

measuring tape

your phone for quick style checks

cash (some places don't take cards!)

3. wear the right outfit

fitted tank or tee

leggings or slip-on bottoms

slip-on shoes

minimal jewelry

pro tip: wear something that makes trying on clothes super easy because not all thrift stores have fitting rooms (shocking, i know).

4. timing is everything

weekday mornings are usually the best time to go thrifting. most stores restock during the week, and the morning crowd is smaller. avoid weekends if you can - that's when everyone and their mom is there.

5. location research

make a list of thrift stores in your area and check their reviews. some areas have better thrift stores than others, and wealthier neighborhoods often have designer donations. google maps is your bestie for this!

thrifting is an art and a skill that gets better with practice. don't get discouraged if your first trip isn't a major success - we all start somewhere!

next post i'll get into how to spot quality pieces and what sections to hit first!

stay tuned! ✨

xoxo, mindy

[letmesleeponu4sumtime]

‘Sweet’ came on over the speakers and it reminded me of this..

In Kyoto in September of last year, I decided to go to a bar. I had spent the previous few days in a daze, staying out until early morning, chain-smoking, and drinking more drinks than I could count on my hands. I would wake up late in the afternoon as the sky began to dim. It was hot and humid out, but I liked the feeling. In Kyoto, I didn’t take public transport once. I walked everywhere; the bar was 20-ish minutes away, and it was around 11:30 p.m. when I had decided to go after rallying myself up. The bar was nondescript and inconspicuous; you couldn’t find it just wandering around. There was no signage. I made my way through a dark alley, unsure of the route Google Maps was prompting me to take. I passed by the spot and circled back around a moment later after looking at the reviews. Thankfully, someone had left a review detailing how to locate the place. I took a set of steep, narrow stairs to the second or third level, I don’t remember. The door was ominous, dimly lit with a single light above the frame. 

This was the place; I knew it. 

I stood in the stairwell taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I quietly pulled open the door. Low music enveloped the space; it was dark, lit only with tea-light candles. I was greeted pleasantly once my figure came into the low light. They guided me through where to put my bag and encouraged me to sit. I took a seat in the corner between the bathroom and the bar. There were 2 open seats next to me, but the corner felt right. There were a few other guests: a man sitting alone who was chatting up the bartender and owner whilst snacking on popcorn. A couple who were partly engaging in the man’s conversation and a group of foreigners in the back; I could hear their rowdiness. I ordered a gin and tonic. The bartender placed a bowl of popcorn in front of me too. I remember being quite hungry; I ended up eating 3 bowls of popcorn and drinking 3 gin and tonics that night. I listened to the man’s conversation; he was talking passionately about anime. He spoke fast, so it was hard to fully understand the conversation, but I tuned in nonetheless. A while later, the man left, and so did the couple. The owner encouraged me to move closer; he said I was too far away and looked a little uncomfortable. I laughed and obliged. We talked for a long while about many things in a mix of Japanese and English. He told me there was a song he loved but didn’t understand; he was going to play it for me and wanted to know if it was a sad song. I nodded and lit up the end of my cigarette. Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex played in a low hum over the speakers. I smiled softly; he asked if I knew it.

I said, ‘Of course, this is a great song. One of my favorites.’ He nodded, striking up his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the open window.

He left me alone for the duration of the song; I think he could tell I just wanted to soak in the moment. I recorded a short voice memo of the track over the speakers and sent an excited text to my dear friend J. When the song ended, he asked if it was sad. I took a moment to answer before I replied, ‘Not inherently. It’s melancholic because of the melody, but it’s a love song. You have good taste.’ He smiled softly at me and asked if the music well suited the space. I enjoyed the music, how it fluidly switched up from something like ‘Sweet’ to minimal techno. He seemed satisfied by my answer. He let me play a few songs for him. Somewhere in our conversation, my hobby of DJing came up, and he asked to hear one of my sets. I told him it was on SoundCloud, and he promised me that he’d figure out how to use the app and play one of my sets in the bar one day. I was a little flustered at the thought and assured him it was nothing special and he shouldn’t bother, but he was adamant and insisted. I stayed a while longer and made small talk with a few other patrons. A man came in alone somewhere in the middle of my conversation with the owner. He had 2 drinks before he left without saying more than 3 words. I tried not to stare too much, but I wanted to talk to him. Something about him intrigued me. Not to mention he was very handsome. I didn’t end up saying anything. I was too nervous and didn’t want to come off weird. What would I even say? How would he react to being approached by a foreign girl who clearly just wanted to be alone with him? I'm not the type to approach a man anyway. He passed me once to go to the restroom, he didn’t even blink in my direction despite my lingering gaze. I took that as a sign not to bother him. He seemed quite content all to himself a few seats away from me. 

When it was my turn to leave, the bartender turned on a dim flashlight to ensure I made it out without toppling over. He and the owner waved and shouted after me with well wishes. I thanked them graciously, bowing repeatedly with deep appreciation until the door shut behind me.