#still. gotta take pride in what progress i Have made. and i will do more... soon.

[orcelito]

Living room:

Still a little cluttered, but so much FLOOR SPACE without all the many many plastic bags :D

Kitchen:

Similarly still cluttered, but the floors are clear and there's no longer a mound of bowls molding in the sink! :D

Bedroom:

.......

We can't win everything.

[marvelrivalsplayer69420]

gambit, daredevil, and punisher with a reader who crochets\knits

a\n: the gambit section ended up a little shorter than i intended. hope y'all enjoy <3

tags: gender-neutral reader, includes some knit\crochet terms, gambit's section is a bit short, just pure fluff.

Gambit ♠️

Remy likes watching you move your hands. he especially likes having you in his lap with his head over your shoulder, eyes focused on your hands and the yarn. when you pull from the outside and it rolls, he always seems to catch the yarn just before it falls off the couch\bed and put it back where it belongs.

sometimes he asks what you’re making and how you’re making it, just to hear you talk passionately about it. he listens with intensity, leaning in and watching you show him your progress and nods along to your plans, a little smile on his face when you get excited as he encourages you.

“That scarf’s really comin’ along, non? Can’t wait ‘til you’re all bundled up in it, s’long as you still let me kiss the frostbite off your cheeks.”

whenever you finish crocheting, he’s taking your hands in his and looking over them, kissing them, and encouraging you to stretch so you don’t get sore wrists and fingers.

Remy loves anything you make for him and treats your projects with respect, like asking you how to wash that delicate wool scarf you made for him without ruining it or which pair of gloves he should wear if you made multiple pairs for him.

he loves how creative you are. he even likes to get a little involved in your creative process if you ask which color, stitch, or style you should make something in, he gives a second opinion. but his “second opinion” is mainly based on the fact of whether or not he thinks you’d like the outcome more— because he will memorize your favorite stitches, colors, and aesthetics. he just wants you to enjoy what you’re doing.

he loves to wear and model the things you make for him; sweaters, gloves, scarves, socks, hats— anything wearable, he is willing to model for you personally. especially if you have a small business, he is willing to model for a pattern you make.

“Merci, I’m lookin’ real fine in dis sweater, cher. Maybe you should get in dis sweater wit’ me so we can get all cozy together?”

“Remy, honey, I need you to stop moving. I’m trying to take your picture for the pattern. We can cuddle after I get these pictures taken.”

“Mmm, okay, whatever you need Gambit gon’ deliver, cher. You jus’ tell me how to pose for dem pictures.”

Daredevil ⚖️

once Matt knows the audible differences, he can’t unlearn them; the clicking of needles vs the barely audible sound of a hook moving through stitches. crochet specifically is so quiet that sometimes he forgets you’re even crocheting. that’s when he reaches for your thigh and finds himself with a fistful of yarn instead.

loves those super soft chenille or blanket yarns. he yearns for a huge chenille blanket for the bed but he doesn’t ask for one; the yarn just shows up randomly in your stash and oh look it’s just the right amount to make a blanket or a Matt-sized sweater with.

doesn’t like the texture of most wool, cotton, or acrylic yarns; he says it feels like sandpaper on his skin. but he’ll still cuddle close to you if you’re wearing a sweater made out of it. if you manage to find a wool\cotton\acrylic yarn that is soft enough for him, he’ll wear whatever you make out of it with pride.

sometimes when you’re making for hours and hours, he’ll grab your wrist and feel the strain in it before telling you to take a break.

“But I gotta finish this row, Matt—”

“Sweetheart, I can feel the strain in your wrists. Take a break and stretch. I know how much you need it.”

he loves the things you make just for him; the chunky knit blanket that he loves bundling up in when you’re away because it reminds him of you, those knit gloves that he wears every day in winter, and the tie you knit for him for his birthday that he cherishes. if you like gifting him socks then you’ll never see him without them.

always finds himself reaching for something you’ve made when he needs it. that blanket on the couch. that sweater you made for him. scrubbies and towels you made out of that harsh cotton yarn that he’d never wear but doesn’t mind doing the dishes with.

he finds himself appreciating the projects that don’t work out how you wanted them to, the stuff with flaws that are still lovable and practical. like that wonky pillow you aren’t quite proud of or your first project(s) that show all that inexperience and excitement you had when you started. he cherishes them.

he enjoys moving his hand over one of your projects and feeling it; fingertips tracing each stitch as he makes out a detailed image of it in his head, even if he can’t see it. color is always missing from this unfortunately, so he might ask you to describe the colors of the rows and stitches as he moves his hand over them. always smiles when you respond and you can see that warm look in his eyes as he listens intently.

you could detail an entire color graph stitch by stitch and he’d be able to guess what it looked like without you telling him. he could tell a checkerboard pattern from a complex fair isle if you gave him the color and type of stitch for each individual stitch in there.

Punisher 💀

Frank’s still not familiar with most of the terms, but once you explain the difference between knitting and crochet, he never mixes them up again. he doesn’t even have to look at you knitting on the couch to know you’re knitting because he can pick up the small clicking of the needles.

likes to watch you when he thinks you’re not looking, then he’ll sit nearby and ask some questions about your project; the type of yarn you’re using, if you’re going by a pattern or doing it freehand, and if you need more.

unfortunately, he’s always able to tell when you don’t have enough yarn even when you’re on the precipice of winning yarn chicken.

“You got enough yarn? Could get you some more. I don’t think you’re gonna finish that with that much, sweetheart.”

“It’s really close. I think I might have just enough to do it.”

loves to take you shopping for yarn and supplies. he’s actually very engaged in it; likes walking down the aisles with you, holding the basket or cart and watching your reactions so he can gauge what you like and don’t like. he likes pointing out the stuff you missed if he thinks you’ll like it. he also likes to insist you make things for yourself.

Frank will not let you pay for your yarn, no matter the price. in fact, if you only plan on getting a few skeins of cheap yarn, he will insist you the expensive hand-dyed yarn he saw you eying earlier.

the only way you can pay for your own yarn\supplies is if you order it online without telling him. he’ll catch the package every time because he insists on getting the mail every morning.

“Hey hey hey, what’s this doll? Got a whole box of yarn I didn’t know about?”

“Oh, I just bought some online from Hobbii— is that ok?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t pay for it yourself did ya? You used my card right?”

“Uh… no…”

“How much you pay for it?” Frank says as he’s digging through his wallet for cash, fully prepared to give you the amount with shipping included. If you refuse at first, he’ll just sneak twice the amount into your wallet when you’re not looking.

he makes sure you take breaks throughout the day. he’ll look up stretches specifically for knitters and crocheters and he will teach you them and every hour or two he’ll make you do them. the second you stop for a break, he’s making you do them again even if you just did them five minutes ago.

he will wear anything and everything you make for him. he’ll use only the dishcloths and scrubbies you made. the main blanket he uses to bundle up with you on the couch on movie nights is one you made. he only wears clothes you make for him at home because he would be heartbroken to stain or ruin any of them on missions.

one time you knit him a pair of pink socks with strawberries on them to match a pair you made for yourself, just to see if he would wear it. says he’s not gonna wear them but each time you’re both spending the day inside, he’s wearing them. eventually he wears them out to the point where you need to mend a hole in the toe or heel.

if you give a handmade gift to someone not knitworthy (someone who doesn’t appreciate a handmade gift and doesn’t understand the time and effort put into it) then Frank is gonna have a private talk with them and depending on how it goes, they’ll either be suddenly grateful OR it might end up regifted to Frank if he thinks they don’t deserve it.

“Hey Frank, isn’t that the scarf I gave to my boss for Christmas? Why are you wearing it?”

“Just thought I’d appreciate it more after the talk I had with him, ‘kay sweetheart?”

“…Please tell me you didn’t kill my boss.”

“What? No, I just had a talk with him about your gift and decided I’d be able to take better care of it.”

“I think that’s considered stealing—”

“No it ain’t, if anything he was stealing your hard work from you by not appreciating your thoughtful gift… and by making ya work overtime when Cheryl doesn’t show up.”

[hermitscratch]

imp n skizz + 27... the besties. did you know skizz irl sometimes kisses impulse n the cheek. to annoy him

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

27. A platonic kiss, Impulse/Skizz, 873 words

This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life.

The exhilaration of starting anew had hit him full force. The space between seasons had been spent dreaming up builds of grandeur, and he was finally able to see what he was working with. Better still, he had a partner in crime to share his vision with. Providing Bdubs his first clock was a point of pride, and Bdubs had accepted it with promises of a great future ahead of them.

He'd made momentous progress. Maybe not on the scale of Doc and his villager operation, but the humble underground iron farm he and Tango constructed would serve them well. The land that would become a sprawling cyberpunk city was sectioned off. His strip mine was fruitful, piles of diamonds to be fashioned into armor and equipment as needed. Everything was coming up Impulse.

When the day was over, the rest was well-earned. The Mountaineers, as Scar had named them, reconvened to share dinner around the fire. He took the chance to wash up in the river- a water well would be a tomorrow project, once he had a place to lay his head that was more permanent than the blocked off mouth of his cave- and laid down for a good night's sleep.

...Any minute then.

Impulse rolled onto his back and sighed. It didn't feel right, and Impulse knew what was missing.

This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life, because Skizz was there.

Skizz was there, and so much as thinking his name made the thread connecting them hum. Before Skizz was a hermit, when Impulse had been summoned and made the decision to stay, it was easy to ignore. The proximity now, though, made it impossible. His very soul knew its other half was near, and Impulse longed.

Skizz hadn't wanted to be coddled. He was determined to stand on his own two feet in this server of building gods and redstone masters. It was with full support that Impulse had agreed to let Skizz forge his own way, neighbors instead of roommates.

...But surely Skizz wouldn't mind a late-night visit, right?

Impulse relit the torches by his bedside. He didn't change, just throwing on his shoes. On his way to the door, he wondered if it would be worth taking his wings out. It would make the trip incredibly short, at the cost of nearly guaranteeing he'd spend all night at Skizz's. He wouldn't mind, but if Skizz did...

"Aaah!" A yell made Impulse jump as he opened the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. An equally startled Skizz stood in the doorway, a hand on his chest as he settled down. "You scared the dookie right outta me, dude," He said, heaving a breath, "Don't you know it's like, dumb o'clock in the morning? Nice jammies though," Skizz snickered.

Impulse snorted. Skizz was wearing a matching set. "These old things? Aw, they're nothin'," Skizz barks a laugh, and Impulse chuckles with him, a line of tension leaving his shoulders, "I know it's dumb o'clock in the morning, what're you doing at my front door?"

"Well I- y'know, I was in the neighborhood," Skizz started, wings held around his shoulders like a mantle, "And I'm thinkin' to myself, I think, y'know... I'm really feelin' it! And if I'm feelin' it, my best buddy over here, Mr. Impy Dimpy Dippledop, well, he's gotta be feelin' it too, right? Am I right? I bet I'm right," Skizz poked at Impulse's cheek.

Impulse huffed fondly, lightly smacking Skizz's hand away. Nobody could manage to be longwinded and straightforward like Skizz could. "I might've been on my way to yours for the same reason," Impulse admitted.

"Good thing I beat you then," Skizz cackled, "I don't have a bed yet!"

"Skizz!" Impulse laughed, "That's the first thing you do!"

"I was excited, okay? Some stuff fell through the cracks!" It only made Skizz laugh harder, "Are you gonna invite me in or not!"

"Okay, okay," Impulse placated once their laughter calmed into the occasional giggle. He stepped away from the doorway and gestured Skizz to follow him inside, "Come on in, make yourself at home. Don't forget to shut the door behind you."

Impulse heard the door close. The place was basic, really, meant for function over form. A double-wide bed, some chests for storage, and the simple wall that separated the space from the outside. There was a joke on the tip of Impulse's tongue, something about excusing a mess that wasn't there, but it's forgotten the moment he feels arms around him.

Arms, and then wings, warm and white and all-encompassing like a blanket settled around his very soul. If Impulse looked behind himself, he was sure Skizz's halo would be showing. In turn, Impulse's horns grew. Dark scales climbed up his arms where he held Skizz's arms across his chest, and his tail found purchase around Skizz's leg.

Skizz squeezed him in a hug, lowering his head to leave a kiss in Impulse's hair before burying his face in it with a content sigh that made Impulse want to melt into bed and never get up again.

"Yeah," Skizz mumbled, soft and tired, "This is home."

[sereindreams]

HANDPRINTS || RK800 x Reader ♡

“Oh, what can I do? Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue. Sun and ocean blue. Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you”

Summary: Your work life had always been stressful, and being a part of the DPD had its ups and downs. In fact, it was mostly downs. That was until you were assigned to work on a case of rising deviants with an old associate and a charming, young android. Suddenly, you couldn't wait to show up at work. Your days were no longer filled with quiet solitude, but of warm laughter and shared breaths. The very thing that betrayed all sense of life offered you a gateway to a new appreciation of the world, and the love for things within it.

AN: Welcome to the self-proclaimed 'sweet and sappy' chapter! Y'all deserve to be fed, and I want some genuine relationship progress between the reader and Connor. I also want to expand upon the reader/Hank relationship dynamic, so you might notice a little bit of that! Also, I seem to be enjoying fucking up the timeline a bunch, so excuse the messy ass timeline of everything, gotta make it better for the plot. (also I'm very fucking sorry for taking so long lmao)

Also also, skip this part if you don't want a rant about my life but again, I'm sorry for taking so long. I've just gotten a new job that has me working a lot that I'm not used to, pair that with a lack of motivation and a lot of school work and then boom, you get chapters that come out monthly. I'm really struggling with existing atm but I'm trying and trying. Again, sorry :(

Word Count: 2.8k

Reader Pronouns: She/Her (AFAB). NO USE OF Y/N!

Warnings: Reader is in pain from her previous injury. The usual DBH crime scene gore is relatively detailed. Please be responsible in your media consumption <3

-

Chapter 4:

When the commotion had settled, you took the opportunity to rest your swollen foot, acting as a throbbing beacon of discomfort. Initially, it had been just a sharp pain that had made its way up your calf, but as time flew past, it transformed into a relentless ache. A low whine escaped your lips, doing your best to muffle the sound by clamping it shut.

Not only did it physically pain you, but it harmed your pride as well. It was a fateful reminder that you were only human, that your feeble body could break and bend, capable of shattering into a thousand, fragile pieces. It taunts you and reminds you that you could never be like an android, capable of limitless things. You were confined to your shell, trapped in a body doomed to fail at some point or another.

Connor, on the other hand, was remarkable, the way that he was able to calculate and perform within a matter of seconds had you awestruck. Your humanity had never left you more vulnerable, more in need to do better in order to keep up with your counterpart. But it felt impossible.

He was just too good, and you were doomed to be left in the dust.

"Detective?"

You hummed, welcoming the vibration in your throat as a distraction from your discomfort. Your body had settled against the slick, alleyway wall, and you had been positioned there for a handful of minutes. Hank, still, needed to catch his breath, as he had roughly stated, voice hoarse with neglect. Your injured food was elevated ever so slightly in the air, pressing all of your body weight onto your uninjured one.

Your face must have been scrunched in torment because it only led Connor to probe.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Don't worry about me, Con" the nickname slid off your tongue with ease, "Just tripped, that's all"

But of course, he didn't relent. Instead, he bent down, and you observed as his jacket tightened around his back, splaying out against his body. Your breathing got tight, watching as his eyes slithered across your form and fingers glided across your shoe. You began to feel a light pressure against the leather, causing you to wince. "Does it hurt when I do this?" he inquired, poking and prodding against you. You nodded, gulping down a breath.

“It’s sprained” he concluded, beginning to stiffen his body straight once again. You sighed. “You should rest”

“The damn thing’s right, Y’know?” you heard Hank mutter. You felt the side of your lip curl upwards instinctively at the thought of the two getting along.

You raised your shining, wrist watch to your face, pouting, “It’s not even noon. I can’t go home now. We still have another case this afternoon”

“Bullshit” Hank called, extending the long, accentuated drawl of your last name. His hands pressed deeply into the leather of his sodden jacket, tightening his arms across his chest, “You’re hurt. Can’t work when you’re hurt. Go home, rest, take some aspirin, and come back in the afternoon”

-

You weren’t sure how the two had won the non existent argument, but you were sure they must have, as you turned to Connor, hands placed firmly on the steering wheel of your own car. In the blazing light of midday, his face was illuminated in a warm, yellow glow. You could feel yourself sinking into the softened leather of the chair, sleep pressing your eyes closed. With each blink, your eyelids became heavier and heavier, as you found it harder to fight against the seeming inevitability.

It remained like that for a while, the occasional tapping of Connor’s fingers on the leather wheel, and the gentle buzz of the radio, filled with static. The warmth from the heater engulfed you and created fog on the windows, leaving your fingers to brush it away. Your distress was somehow idyllic. Even as you pulled into the driveway of your unit, you didn't want it to end. You would rather endure the dull but constant pain of your ankle than have the moment come to a halt.

The driver's side door snapped open, followed by the familiar crunch of feet under gravel. Your door clicked open, and you were met with comfortable silence and warm eyes. "Thank you" you stated meekly. You crept from the seat, placing your hands on the leather to hoist yourself out, and settled your gaze on your house.

Embarrassment shot through you.

What if he didn't like what he saw? What if the house was actually a mess and you were so used to it you didn't realise?

What if it smelt strange?

You paused, overwhelmed by soreness and anxiety. Connor noticed the hesitation in your steps, "Are you still in pain?"

"Yeah"

"May I carry you?"

What. You swore you didn't hear him right, and yet, you broke out in a cold sweat. Your mind struggled to process the offer, the combination of the pain and your own stubbornness wrestled with the faint embarrassment you felt. "Okay" your words shot out, maybe too quickly, as you did your best to mask the blush that had spread across your face like wildfire.

He stepped forward with determination and pressed his hands to your side. In a quick swoop, he had settled his arms under your legs and had hoisted you from the ground, bridal style. The movement had pressed your face into his torso, feeling the fabric of his jacket tickle your nose. To your surprise, he had a smell, a smell of comforting and faint cologne. Nothing that would cause your head to ache more than your ankle, that is.

He had stopped at the door, and before he could ask, you had stated, “Keys are in my right pocket”, before realising. He seemed to pause too before his hand slowly lingered over your hip, making a dive for the inside of your pocket. You shuddered as his hand made contact with your body, only a thin sliver of fabric keeping your skin away from his. With a jingle, he had successfully retrieved the keys.

A moment of rattling was followed by a creak, your door pushing open to reveal your softly carpeted hallway. There was a scuffle of his shoes against the doormat and his head had surveyed the cosy expanse before locating his target. The couch.

Upon entering the living space, his eyes were immediately drawn to the rich, dark tones of the furniture, and the forest green hues that adorned the walls, offering the room a sense of elegance and warmth. The faint lighting above, provided by antique-looking chandeliers and ornate table lamps, painted the ceiling, transparent muslin curtains allowing light to seep through them. It was pleasantly maximalist as if a grandparent had passed the house down to you. His observations prompted many questions in his mind, but he shoved them back down.

A yawn slipped from your lips, your head falling further into the crook of his neck as the weight of your body began to cause you to fall against the couch. His touch was as light as a feather, barely ghosting over you once he had settled you on the plush cushions of your couch.

"I'll get you some ice" he whispered, breath fanning against your cheeks.

“Okay” you squeaked, feeling your words fall short.

You sat there for a few minutes, barely able to make out the rattle from the kitchen, and the clinks and sound of ice. With your head pressed to the pillow, you felt your eyes become droopy. You knew that he had re-entered the room but couldn’t bring yourself to pry open your lids.

His hand slipped beneath your feet again, and your shoes were thrown off quickly. Then, a pillow was placed under your ankle, a quick and painless motion that had admittedly caught you off guard. You had almost called out as the cold ice hit your skin sensitive skin, all your limbs breaking out in goosebumps. Your lips folded inwards on each other, taking a sharp breath.

You were truly mesmerised by his attention to detail, especially as he took the nearest throw blanket and draped it over your body. The edge of the blanket fluttered against your skin. When that had been done, he turned away, "If you need anything else, call Lieutenant Anderson"

Your eyebrows morphed into a frown, your lips parting, "Wait!"

He stopped right then as if prepared to obey your every beck and call. His feet were caught in suspension, body pivoting to meet yours. Even in the doorway, he loomed large, head almost grazing the top of it. "Is there... something you need, Detective?"

Yes. Yes of course, but you couldn't say that. You just wanted his company, even if he didn't care for yours. Hell, you would even walk around for hours on your stupid ankle just so you could hear his low voice and charming quips. "Stay?". Your words were more of a plea rather than a question. You cringed at your own desperation, unsure of what unnatural powers had taken hold of you. Never in your life had you begged for someone to stay. Never in your life had you been reduced to jelly at someone's touch.

And, maybe what's worse is that he obeyed.

You'd like to think it was a conscious decision that he made, not his choice to follow an order but rather to do it because it felt right. But it made you worry, so much so that you had fallen asleep thinking about it, and Connor. And his touch.

The problem arose when your alarm didn't go off, and you found yourself, hours later, sunken in the abyss of sheets on the couch. Your eyes had been glued shut with sleep, and you did your best to pry them open with everything you had. A chill swept across your face, causing your sweltering body to emerge with goosebumps as you pulled it from the blankets.

The house was eerily empty, scarcely different to a handful of hours ago. The blush from your cheeks had settled into something more internally vibrant, a permanent state of bashfulness as the memories came flooding through your head.

He was gone, but the ghost of him sitting cross-legged on the opposite chair still lingered in the air. The patter of rain caused the air in your apartment to become damp, heavy, the windowsills crumbling slowly and admitting defeat against the elements.

It was strangely surreal to know that mere hours ago, he had been so close to you, and you sat alone now. The sensitive feeling you had been overwhelmed with had been replaced with something absent.

You couldn't help but smile wonkily at the thought of his plush skin just barely drifting across your face. The shudder that consumed you under his watchful gaze, the arch of his lip with each passing moment.

The buzz of your phone broke you from your trance, a single message blaring from the screen, "Don't come in this afternoon, just rest. The tin can and I won't do anything interesting without you - Hank'. You sighed, feeling yourself plop back onto the couch and letting the weight of your troubles dissolve. The pain from your ankle was lessened, thanks to Connor's remedies.

-

It didn't take you long to figure out that you'd be well enough to go to work the next day, as the pain had dissipated quickly after another long nap, a cup of coffee and some Advil.

The drone of a headache caused you to adversely believe otherwise, though. It had begun as a creeping murmur, just on the edge of your consciousness, until it began to intensify into a raging storm, much like the outside weather. It hammered relentlessly on the walls of your skull, nausea sweeping past you.

You just hoped and prayed you could find relief in the same way you did the night before. Or perhaps, in a fizzy, caffeinated drink.

As you stood by Hank, shoulders stiffened, you felt the droplets of rain slipping from your face at an agonisingly slow rate. The brief interaction between a man and the lieutenant was the last thing on your mind as your hand planted itself squarely on the counter of the food truck. Letting your eyes wander across the setting, you couldn't help but notice the hockey game buzzing in the background, or the slick layer of oil that seemed to drench every crevice of the van. But the whisper of food was more than intoxicating, your head spinning while warmth flew past your face from the nearest fryer.

The man running the van was preoccupied with the arduous task of flipping burger patties, too busy to notice you eyeing him down, foot tapping against the pavement. It was then that Hank and Connor drifted to you, waiting behind you, and began to converse. The banter began playfully light, at first, as Hank likened Connor to a poodle, always following him around, but Connor flipped the script quickly.

Your head jerked over your shoulder, giving the men a tantalisingly teasing gaze at their physical and emotional proximity.

The apology was something you didn't understand, something you must have missed at an earlier date, but it was innocent and sincere nonetheless. The warmth of affection had spread across Hank's demeanour, offering Connor a half-snarky quip that you could tell was laced with more endearment than he would have liked to let on. You supposed it was easy for him, that way, to protect himself rather than form an attachment or let himself be vulnerable with an android of all things.

And you understood, too.

You understood the bitter sting of rejection and the fear and anxiety that came packed up in a tight little bow when it came to getting close to someone. But it was easier for you to get along with Androids, and that's where it differed for you and Hank.

Humans scared you.

Finally, the man turned his broad shoulders around and gave you an acknowledging nod, passing off the drink with his right hand. You took it gingerly, drawing back as his fingers fluttered against yours, and lowering your head. "Thank you". The drink was explosive on your tongue, teeth tingling at the sensation of bubbles drifting down your throat. The coolness of the liquid was soothing, even on a cold day.

As you merged to the side, allowing Hank to take his own order, Connor’s eyes followed you like a child with a sweet.

You took safety under an umbrella, but it did almost nothing to combat the steady drizzle of rain against your body. Connor placed his hands on the table as if steadying himself, and whipped his head left and then right. Hank slid between the both of you, placing his burger wrapper on the metal table and beginning to devour his meal.

The conversation went slow, much like the rhythm of the raindrops falling around you. Each word exchanged seemed to carry the weight of the moisture-laden air, hanging for a moment before dissipating into the atmosphere. Connor's furrowed brow and Hank's focused appetite set the tone for the subdued interaction. They spoke of small, intimate things, such as Hank's involvement with gambling, or even the calories in his meal. You became conscious that you stood out like a sore thumb between the two.

Feeling satisfied, Connor turned to you with a newfound, almost quizzical expression.

"This morning, when we were chasing those deviants... why didn't you want me to cross the highway?"

Your eyes snapped to him, words leaving your mouth with ease, the answer obvious, "Because I didn't want you to get hurt, or killed"

The concept was so foreign to the android sitting across from you. The concept that someone cared enough to stop him from being in harms way, someone who didn’t just see him as an expense or extra paper work. Someone who wanted him around. To you, he wasn’t a large, expensive paperweight, but a living, breathing thing.

And well, that confused him.

There were no instructions for how to deal with a situation like this. He had been prepared for every nasty comment or abusive behaviour that could be thrown his way, and had prepared each thoughtful response. But he had never been trained for how to respond to someone taking kindly to him.

His cheeks were cast with a light blush, one that could only be detected in certain light as the peeking sun burst on his skin. If you or Hank noticed, you didn’t say anything, content to sit and enjoy lunch in the company of one another.

Undisturbed peace.

-

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 3: Rangi- Damn It All!

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: E (rating changed from M to E, see author notes)

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: First, thank you all who have stayed with this for song long, even after this impromptu hiatus. And Happy New Year! (a week late but still)

I’m so sorry for taking so long to post this chapter. TT0TT This specific chapter has been done for AGES, but the next three…..those next damn three chapters. TT0TT Blame them. Had to finish them so I could move on to Arc 2. *sob* And I wanted to make sure they were satisfactory before I posted them.

Um spoiler (not really) y’all are getting that smut scene…..if you want incentive to keep reading TT0TT just gotta…..get to that point in Rangi’s side now….. And um…..we’re just gonna change it to E rating. u_u (I’ll post in the tags which chapters, assuming I decide to write more smut in this).

If you don't read The Hunt for Kyoshi (one of my other fanfics), I mentioned in a new chapter that I am going to release a chapter a week. Randomly for different fics (wasn't gonna post any new ones and then...well...forgot there was one I wanted to start posting so :'D Hope you want a Kyoshi prequel cause that's what next week!).

Good news for people who like this one the most, Two Knives has the most completed chapters! So you most likely will see an update to this one. I've yet to technically start Arc 2 of Two Knives as of posting this tho (I did write a chapter that's a few chapters into it....I had a mighty need ok? TT0TT)

Fun fact, I talk on my tumblr (swiftsaltsweet) every so often about the fics (cause that’s dedicated pretty much to fics). So you can see me crying about aspects of my fics or how my progress is looking. (I’m usually babbling about this fic for some reason)

____

“Are you going to attend the Beifong party?” Rangi asked Kyoshi. They were lounging in the brush behind the mansion. Kyoshi, now fully recovered, was on break, and they were sharing onigiri that she made for lunch. Rangi chose to eat slower than she normally did, she wanted to enjoy Kyoshi’s cooking. 

Rangi had a feeling Kyoshi would say ‘no’ but wanted to try anyway, just in case. 

Kyoshi looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “No? Why would I be invited?”

Rangi brow furrowed just a tad. Because you’re a hero…

She was annoyed that Jianzhu and the other’s weren’t giving Kyoshi her due. They were too busy fawning over Yun, which was understandable, he was the Avatar , but… still . 

Rangi scoffed. “I mean, you were technically the one who took out Tagaka. You should be there.”

Kyoshi thought her words over while she ate a bit of her lunch. “Do you want me to go?”

More than you could ever realize. Rangi mirrored Kyoshi’s action. “Yes.”

“I don’t have an outfit.”

“We’ll get you one.” It was shameful for Rangi to admit it, but she’d already had a list of dresses she was ready to pay for if Kyoshi ever asked. Other than Kyoshi getting her due, seeing the girl in a dress was another reason Rangi really wanted her to go.

“Am I even allowed to go?”

“I’ll convince them.” She hadn’t broken any chairs or tables since she’d come to Yokoya. She prided herself on having not thrown a childish tantrum in two years, but if she must resort to such tactics to get her way. Then she must . 

Sorry, mother. But not really. She thought, smiling wryly to herself. 

Kyoshi picked at the grass in front of her, thinking hard. “I need to take care of Kelsang.”

Rangi nodded to herself. Yes, this was the main reason why she thought Kyoshi would say ‘no.’ She’d accepted it. Well, at least she tried. 

She played up her sigh, to show her disappointment. “Then that’s what you should do.”

Kyoshi snorted. “So now you don’t want me to go?”

Rangi let her wry smile play a bit broader on her lips.  “I never said that. I do want you to be there. Revel in the victory…. But Master Kelsang needs you, I won’t keep you from that.”

Rangi kept looking off in the distance, the distance being a large wall that encased the entire estate, but the distance nonetheless. Maybe next time…. HuH?!

Rangi almost jumped when she felt a weight gently lean on her shoulder, but she held her ground. Kyoshi had decided she should rest her head on Rangi’s shoulder. 

Rangi reveled in how Kyoshi’s brown hair touched her cheek. It would've been a transgression if Kyoshi was a Fire National. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. It allowed Rangi to enjoy the sinful touch.

“Thank you,” she sighed. Rangi could only hum in response. She didn’t trust her voice at the moment.

They stayed in that position, that bliss, while they ate. It only came to an end when the gong for lunch had rung out. The two sighed, not wanting to part from each other’s touch.

Rangi dusted off her trousers, and started making her way back to the barracks when Kyoshi called out to her.

“Rangi, wait!” Kyoshi yelled, crossing the distance in only a few strides. Her hand went towards Rangi’s face again, unknowingly almost giving her a heart attack.

She felt Kyoshi’s fingers pluck something gently from the corner of her mouth. 

“There you go. You’re all good now!” Kyoshi grinned like mad, proud of herself.

Rangi stared up at Kyoshi, trying to keep herself grounded as much as she could. How was it possible for someone to have such power over her? Make her come undone in a single second? 

She wondered if she should give Kyoshi a briefing on Fire Nation customs….but decided against it. She loved the unabashed display too much.

Rangi’s eyes trailed to the single grain of rice that Kyoshi held in her fingers. How could such a small thing be her undoing? 

New resolve seeped into Rangi’s being as she gazed at the grain. She was going to make Kyoshi feel what she felt. She wasn’t holding back anymore.

Rangi gently took Kyoshi's hand, and dipped her head down. She gently ate the grain from between Kyoshi’s fingers. Slowly and with intent, making sure her lips grazed as much of Kyoshi’s flesh as she could. 

As she pulled away, she felt a sense of satisfaction thrum through her as Kyoshi’s thumb made a move to chase after her lip and caressed it, wanting to keep the contact going like she did.

“Thanks,” she rasped out, making her voice lower than usual. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked up with half lidded eyes. Then she smiled coquettishly at Kyoshi, enjoying how Kyoshi had formed a strong blush and how it deepened the color of her pretty freckles. “I don’t like wasting food.”

Rangi turned on her heel and made her way to the barracks, making sure she had an extra sway in her hips as she left and rounded the corner. As she did, she stole one last glance back at Kyoshi, and felt pleased with her new change in tactic. 

-------

Rangi didn’t want to be at this party. She just hated parties in general, found the whole idea frivolous. But after meeting Kyoshi two years ago, it became more unbearable. It’d be one thing if she could spend the party with Kyoshi, but they were always so close but too far at times like these.

And now? The new developments in her relationship with Kyoshi? Well this part had taken on a a new form of torture. She just wanted to be near her girl in an entirely new way now.

Sometimes, it really sucked being the Avatar’s bodyguard.

The entire time she stood by Yun as he talked to various politicians. Jianzhu and Hei-Ran stayed close by and even interjected at times. Hei-Ran moreso when the men would ask either her mother or Rangi herself about marriage. Because of those three, Rangi didn’t need to talk.

They talked about political arrangements in the Earth Kingdom, Avatar affairs, and the battle. Which was more of a disaster than Jianzhu, Yun, or Hei-Ran let on to onlookers, but that wasn’t Rangi’s concern. 

The only thing that irked Rangi, that threatened to make her talk, was when someone described Yun as the one who personally took out Tagaka . It took all her effort to not boast about Kyoshi’s prowess, because in doing so she’d undermine the Avatar.

Yun, however, surprised her, and gave Kyoshi credit. Jianzhu, however , decided to undermine said credit by stating that Tagaka’s real power came from the fleet of ships. Which he and Yun had destroyed. Thanks to Yun’s masterful display of raising earth from the sea floor.

Rangi rolled her tongue in her mouth. She wouldn’t speak. She wouldn’t talk back. She wouldn’t go home and break a chair. She would meditate. Or find Kyoshi. 

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Yes. Kyoshi. Even just the thought of her relaxed Rangi. She would go home, and find a way to entangle their time together. Without being too much of a bother to the maid. 

Maybe she would even show off the dress she was wearing. She wondered what Kyoshi's reaction to it would be.

But first, she needed to get away from some very persistent man who kept trying to get her attention. He didn’t even flinch when Hei-Ran’s demeanor changed from politely annoyed, to dragon mother when his intentions to bother her daughter were made clear.

Rangi excused herself to the drink table, allowing the adults to sort the issue out.

She grabbed a glass of wine, and went outside to the garden for a breath of fresh air. It smelled like mossy dew, another earthy Kyoshi type smell. The one she’d get when she’d tend to the gardens sometimes.

Rangi had only taken a single sip of her drink, when a figure saddled up beside her. She was contemplating roundhouse kicking them, risking dropping wine on her dress, when she realized it was actually Yun.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” Rangi said coyly, putting the glass to her lips again. “I could’ve killed you.”

Yun grinned and laughed. “Ooooo scary !” He shook his hands out in front of him in mock terror.

“ Your funeral,” Rangi smirked into her drink. 

“Ah, well, then I guess the world will get a Fire Avatar sooner!” he laughed.

Rangi frowned, she didn’t like that for a number of reasons. Mostly because it’d be a very bad look for not only her, but the Fire Nation as well.

Yun bumped her shoulder, visibly happy he didn’t have to worry about voiding her spiked armor at the moment. “Oh, c’mon you! I was just joking .”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off.

Yun sighed after a moment of silence. “I wish Kyoshi was here.”

Rangi hummed in agreement. 

“You didn’t ask her to come?”

Rangi finished her glass. “I did.”

“You didn’t try to force her to come?”

“No,” Rangi said. “She needed to take care of Master Kelsang.”

“Ah,” Yun nodded. He understood, Master Kelsang was like a father to Kyoshi. It wouldn’t have been right to rip them away from each other.

Yun reached down and picked up a rock from the garden, and rolled it in his hand. Inspecting it. Rangi wondered if it was an earthbender thing. She’d have to ask Kyoshi. Though she wondered how much the girl could or would tell her. She’d never seen the girl bend even a pebble, despite being listed as an earthbender in the staff's ledger.

“It’s a shame,” he said, rolling the rock expertly between his fingers. “I was going to ask her to be mine at the party tonight.”

Rangi’s glass slipped out of her hands and shattered on the deck below. What did he just say?

Yun sucked air through his teeth. “Rangi! Be careful , you could’ve hurt yoursel–oh, too late. You're already bleeding.”

Rangi barely registered the pain, the nick from the glass hitting her….shin? Foot? She didn’t care. What did he just say ?!

“What….did you say?” Rangi’s voice came out as a strangled rasp.

Yun whirled his hands in the air, and the glass formed into a neat ball above his hands. Then he made a crushing motion, and the glass grounded back down into fine sand. Then he let it fly onto the ground of the garden.

“I said, I was going to ask her to be mine.”

He was looking at her, but Rangi couldn’t move. Her eyes were transfixed over the flowers and pond that was in the Beifong garden.

“What about Master Jianzhu?” 

The entire reason on Yun’s side, from what she could sparse together; for why Kyoshi and him hadn’t gotten together officially, was because Master Jianzhu had forbidden it. Partially because Kyoshi was a servant. Partially because he didn’t want Yun to follow the same escapades as Avatar Kuruk. 

Yun never went against Jianzhu, not when he laid down the law like he’d done with dating. So why now ?

When Yun spoke again, it was a hushed whisper. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I’m the Avatar. He shouldn’t get a say in what I want .”

A wave of disgust ran over Rangi as she heard his words. What he wants? What about what Kyoshi wants? Then a new wave hit her. Am I the same as him? Is this how I sound when I think about her too?

“Why the change?” she forced a gulp down. “It’s just…so sudden.”

“ Perspective ,” he said. “What happened at the iceberg, I realized… It can all end in an instant. I don’t want to live or die with regrets.”

Rangi changed a glance at Yun, he stared head on at her. No humor could be seen on his face. Something in his demeanor, something made it feel like they were two animals about to go at each other.

“Perspective?” she questioned.

“Perspective,” he clarified with a nod.

The poem. It wasn’t just the iceberg, Kyoshi’s poem had also influenced Yun as well. It had lit a metaphorical fire under both their asses.

Yun tapped his foot on the ground once. The motion was familiar.

Rangi’s eyes widened in realization, remembering the day she was willing to beg him to keep Kyoshi from going with them. No, not just that. Could it be… could he have seen that they were getting closer since the iceberg? How Rangi was becoming more bold, and Kyoshi was accepting each action? Was Rangi’s reckless behavior her own undoing?

Yun closed his eyes, and inhaled. Then he cocked his head to the side and gave Rangi a lopsided smile. The same one her mother said Avatar Kuruk had. 

It made her sick.

“So what are you going to do about it, Rangi?”

Rangi widened her eyes at him. “What?”

“Are you just going to stand there and let me take her?” Rangi's response was to stand stock still. She was still in shock. “Because when we get back to Yokoya, I’m going to carry out my plan. I’m not going to wait .”

“What if she says no?” Rangi asked hurriedly.

“She might,” Yun nodded. “But then again, I am the Avatar . Not many people want to say no to me.”

Rangi’s heart quickened. Was Kyoshi really so shallow she’d only be with Yun because of his status? No. No she wasn’t. Either Yun didn’t understand Kyoshi as well as he thought…..or this was a different kind of threat. Rangi could only hope it was the former.

Rangi turned to him, shoulders square now. “What if, what if she says no because she’s with me?”

Yun cracked his neck side to side. “Then I guess it’s my loss?” He stared Rangi down. “Or, I’ll steal her. Guess we’ll see.”

He smiled at her one last time, and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Ah, too bad we’re stuck here for a few more days. Apparently it’s supposed to storm.”

He released his hand off her shoulder, and walked off. Leaving Rangi to pick up the pieces of her falling world.

No. No no no no! She’d just gotten a light of hope that Kyoshi might like her back! The world couldn’t do this to her! Not now…. Especially when she almost lost her once already!

Rangi stumbled to a nearby wall, her head in her hand, and started hyperventilating. 

She was happy to be by Kyoshi’s side but… not if Yun took Kyoshi from Rangi. She wouldn’t be able to withstand it. 

All that grandstanding of just wanting to be by Kyoshi’s side. Saying she didn’t need anything from Kyoshi. It wasn’t the full truth. Only a part of her thought that. 

Rangi wasn’t a wholly selfless person, she was also selfish. She wanted Kyoshi, all of her. She didn’t want to share with anyone. She wanted Kyoshi to only look at her. 

If she didn’t then….then she…. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to handle the heartbreak.

Rangi pulled away from the wall, taking big gulps of air. She knew what she had to do. And she realized she may have to burn some bridges just to do it.

Rangi needed to find her mother.

_______

Rangi bobbed and weaved through the bodies in the party, looking for a familiar face. She found her mother, leaning against the wall, attempting to ignore more nobles asking for her hand. 

Rangi ran right up to her, not caring about who she might’ve snubbed.

“Mother!” Rangi said.

Hei-Ran looked up from the floor she had been preoccupied with staring at, and her eyes widened. She shoved her wineglass into some noble’s hands and walked over to meet her daughter. “Rangi, what on earth–”

“I need to talk to you, now !” Rangi said in a rushed whisper.

Hei-Ran nodded, and the two Fire Nationals hurried to a private room. As soon as the last one entered through the door, Hei-Ran turned and shut it tight. Then whirled over to her daughter.

“Rangi, what is going on? Did something happen?” The sternness of her voice belied the softness that was resting just underneath. 

“Mother, I need you to watch Yun for me,” she pleaded with urgency.

Hei-Ran visibly relaxed. “Is that all?” She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “If that was it, there was no need for the theatrics. Yes, I can do that. For how long–”

“Until you go back to Yokoya.”

Hei-Ran stiffened. Rangi knew the older woman probably only assumed she’d take on the role for maybe a few hours at most. Not days . She was basically asking to abandon her duties, and at a public event no less. 

Hei-Ran finally looked up at her daughter. Stern wariness in her eyes. “Do you understand what that means ?”

Yes, her reputation would take a hit. The Masters at the mansion would look down on her even more. It’d be harder to rise up the ranks with this kind of mark on her record. But Rangi didn’t care, there was something more precious at stake.

“Yes,” she responded with hardened resolve.

“And you’re willing to take that risk and responsibility?”

“Absolutely.”

“Can you at least tell me why ?”

No she couldn’t. Not the whole truth at least. “There’s something I must attend to back at the mansion, it cannot wait any longer.”

Hei-Ran looked away, her face wavering with different emotions. Finally it steeled, in the same fashion she would use to scold the children at the academy. Panic shot through Rangi.

“Mother! I need to go back to the mansion, now , it’s an emergency!”

If Hei-Ran said ‘no,’ then….then…. Rangi would just run off! She was ready to disobey her own mother if she had to! She didn’t care. She needed to–

“Go,” Hei-Ran said, a look of stern fire in her eyes. 

“W–what?” Rangi looked at her in surprise. Her mother was allowing her to be dismissed from her duties? Why?  

“Why are you asking questions? Is it not important? Go! Now!” Hei-Ran waved Rangi off. “And take the ostrich horse with the blue reins, it’s the fastest. Go now and you might only have to endure the storm for half the journey!”

Relief swelled through Rangi, and before she ran off, she hugged her mother tightly. “Thank you…”

And then she bolted out the door to the stables.

______

Rangi stumbled through the mansion in the dead of night. Tired, drenched, caked with mud. She’d laugh at how Kyoshi would probably scold her tomorrow for making such a mess, but she was so raw from the ride over she couldn’t process any humor at the moment.

Yun’s words hung over her being like a sword ready to fall. There was no time for humor. There was almost no time at all. Rangi had to act . 

She reached Kyoshi’s door, and then looked at herself. She tried to smooth her hair, and readjust her waterlogged dress. But it was in no way presentable. She could only hope Kyoshi would take her as she was, mess and all.

She began rapping at the door, it took awhile before Kyoshi came and answered it. The taller girl was in her night clothes, her night robe barely on and hugging her body. Rangi had seen Kyoshi in a similar state a few weeks earlier, when she’d delivered the gloves she’d had custom ordered for Kyoshi. The sight made her breathless then, and it made her breathless now.

“Rangi?!” Kyoshi said aghast, a worried expression permanently set on her face. 

Rangi couldn’t hold back. She lunged at Kyoshi, tackled the taller girl through the door, burrowed her face into the girl’s chest, and wept.

Rangi could hear the sound of a door closing, and then Kyoshi’s warm and strong arm on her back. Rangi gasped as Kyoshi’s soft hand touched Rangi’s exposed back. It was like a balm to the raw wound of her nerves.

She felt Kyoshi guide her body, and she complied. 

“Rangi, what happened?! Is everything alright?” Kyoshi asked, and Rangi felt the feeling of cloth fall around her shoulders. Kyoshi had gotten her a towel. Thoughtful as always.

“No,” Rangi whispered through gaps in her cries. “I mean, yes. Everyone else is alright but… I’m not .”

She wouldn't be fine. Not until she made her feelings known…. Then the next hurdle would be if Kyoshi accepted them.

But it was so hard. Now that she was at that moment, she didn't know what to say. How to say it. She had so much time, the entire long ride over here. Hell, not even that, she’d had two years to mull over this. But she still couldn’t get her words formed, let alone out .

She felt Kyoshi wrapped her arms around her, trying to comfort her. It brought Rangi comfort…and worry. Stability, yet instability at the same time.

“Talk to me, what happened?” Kyoshi whispered in her ear. 

Rangi’s resolve started to come undone. What was there to say? “I wanted to beat Yun to a confession!” Yes, such a selfish declaration would surely win over Kyoshi's heart. 

“I know this is sudden and it's the middle of the night and I just barged my way into your room… But I'm in love with you and have been for the past two years! Take me!”

It was the truth, but it sounded pathetic. She wanted to confess to Kyoshi in the right way. But she'd run out of time and options. She didn't know what or how to do it. So she just sobbed into the other girl's chest.

Kyoshi hugged her harder, and Rangi gasped from both the comfort and closeness. If she wasn't such a mess she would be enjoying this so much. 

“Are you hurt?”

No, not in the physical sense. Save for a shallow cut she may need to treat. 

“No,” Rangi forced out. She realized her behavior was worrying her friend. 

She felt Kyoshi's shoulders untense, but not by much. “Then, what’s the matter?”

That I love you and you don't know it.

“Oh, Kyoshi …” Rangi lifted her head from Kyoshi’s chest, to nuzzle into the crook of Kyoshi’s neck. 

She felt Kyoshi react to her touch. Her shaking, her pulse quickening, her breathing becoming more ragged. 

Like flame to coal, it reignited Rangi's resolve in an instant.

“ Please… ” she begged. To Kyoshi. To herself. To the spirits. Whatever gave her the strength to do what was next.

Kyoshi gulped.“W–what do you need me to do?” she stuttered.

And like that, her spark caught like a wildfire. There was no going back. 

Damn it… Just… Damn it all!

“I can’t do this anymore,” Rangi whispered. She couldn't keep running. Waiting for the right time. Trying to find the right words. 

She was a girl of action. So she would show her love with that action.

She lifted herself away from Kyoshi, and took Kyoshi’s face in her hands. 

Kyoshi’s wide eyes stared right into Rangi’s tearful ones. 

“ Please , Kyoshi,” Rangi pleaded one final time, praying the girl she loved would accept her. Then she pulled Kyoshi’s face down and pressed their lips together. 

It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Her entire being felt like it was glowing, pulsating. A warmth radiated from Kyoshi that rivaled Rangi’s own inner fire, igniting her more. Fanning her flames. The best part? Kyoshi hadn't pulled away. There was nothing that could break Rangi from this moment.

Except for the sound of the towel hitting the floor. 

Strange. Kyoshi wasn't holding as tightly as she was earlier. In fact, Rangi couldn’t feel Kyoshi’s arms around her at all now. Rangi pulled herself out of her reverie, and opened her eyes. 

Rangi iced over by what she saw. Kyoshi, eyes screwed shut and still as a statue. She was…. She was… Petrified !

Petrified by the kiss. Petrified of… her ! Of Rangi !

Kyoshi was repulsed by her. She….she….

She was just withstanding Rangi. Like the earthbender she was. Like the Earth Kingdom citizen she was. Withstanding, persevering, waiting for the unpleasant thing to pass. Neutral jing.

Rangi took a step back and her hands flew to her mouth. As if it was a weapon that needed to be contained.

“I–I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

She'd been wrong about Kyoshi's feelings. She'd been wrong about everything . She…she caused that reaction from her friend. She had ruined it all.

She grabbed at her dizzying head and retreated backwards. She needed to leave Kyoshi's presence. She'd done enough damage. “I–I’m sorry, I should go–.”

Rangi turned and ran for the door. She couldn't bear to see Kyoshi's reaction anymore. 

She had just started opening the door when it slammed shut, and she could feel Kyoshi's body flushed behind her. Her arm extended over Rangi, keeping the door shut in place.

Of course. Rangi couldn't just run away from her act like that. She needed to face the consequences of her actions.

Rangi closed her eyes and stiffened, bracing herself for Kyoshi's rightful wrath. Kyoshi's body moved again, and wrapped her free arm around Rangi’s waist.

Rangi panted through in between held breaths. Unsure of what Kyoshi's next move would be.

Finally, Kyoshi spoke.

“Rangi, don’t go ,” Kyoshi said, leaning down to nuzzle her face into the crook of Rangi’s neck. 

Rangi let out a shaky and silent sob. Once, twice. Then finally, a shaky laugh of release escaped her lips, almost like a sigh. She couldn’t believe what she just heard.

She leaned into Kyoshi’s touch. If this was a cruel joke, she wanted to enjoy it for just a moment before it blew up in her face.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Rangi turned her head as Kyoshi lifted hers. Rangi saw it, the same wanting in Kyoshi's eyes that she felt. It wasn’t a cruel joke the world was playing on her. She hadn’t been mistaken. Kyoshi…wanted her as much as she wanted Kyoshi.

She waited with baited breath, as Kyoshi finally kissed her back.

____

A/N: Fun fact! This is where I thought Rangi would like chill out. We'd move onto Arc 2 and everything would be gucci. :D But that wouldn't be fun now would it?

:3c (Sorry Rangi, you're just destined to spiral. u_u Be it with high stakes or low ones)

Second Fun Fact! This was my favorite chapter of the fic so far! (besides the one chapter in Arc 2 I jumped the gun on writing).

I really like exploring Hei-Ran and Rangi's strained relationship. And I wanted to explore a more...ummm....antagonistic relationship between Yun and Rangi. ;D

[dessertpanda]

To be a Hero..... Or maybe PT3

To be a Hero PT1 PT2 PT4 PT5 PT6 PT7 PT8 PT9 PT 10 Master List

This story is heavely based on one of my OC, it mentions kidnapping, suicide, bullying, sex, yander behavior and abuse. Please be warned this is little more graphic compared to my other storys. Also the time line for the story is a little different when compared to the actual MHA, the characters are all in college vs being in hight school. Please enjoy and note that i do not own any of the named character except for Paris, all credit for the characters goes to Horikoshi. (Izuku x Fem Reader)

(A mini training arc!! this will progress from the start of their senior year to the near end/entrance exam)(Mention of a minimize panic attack"

"IZUKU YOU GOTTA RUN FASTER" called to him as he stood at the other end of the beach panting. When she said she would help him train... he didn't think it would be every day. "YYY/nnn please I'm exhausted" He panted before collapsing into the wet sand, allowing the water to run over his legs and lower torso. He sat there for a while, panting and wincing from the tortures training she’s been putting him through. Y/n came rushing back, kicking up sand and splashing water in her way to meet her boyfriend. She gently moved his hair from his face, showing how red and sweaty he was. With her other hand, she placed it on his chest, feeling for any issues with his breathing or heart. "I'm so sorry Izuku... I shouldn't have pushed you so hard" She let out a soft sigh of relief as she found nothing wrong with him. With him being checked and good, she removed her hand from his face, allowing his hair to fall back into place, with a huff she took a seat next to him in the wet sand. With a squishing sound as she settled, she drug her knees up into her chest and started blankly out into the water. The sound of the waves brushing and crashing the shore did little to comfort her but they did help slightly. "Izuku... I'm sorry.... I forget that the levels between us are a little different" He lifted his head slightly, not quite understanding what she was saying, "What I mean is.... I've been training like this since I was little...” She stopped “T-there a lot I have yet to tell you Izuku… And I owe you an explanation” She sighed. Gently taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and left a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “You can tell me anything, my love... I am here to support you, and I’ll love you no matter what” He was now sitting up, hand in hand… they stared out into the vast ocean. “Okay the truth about me, my past, and my reason for coming here to Japan”

(Mini Time skip)

She allowed the tears to flow, as Izuku brought her into his chest, “Y/n I-I have no words to express how… sorry I am for you love” He placed gentel kisses on her head, holding his position for a moment longer to inhale her scented shampoo, trying to ground himself. She nuzzled closer to him as his hands ran gentle circles across her back, trying to soother her after the small break down she had just had. He still allowed his own tears to flow, unable to contain his sadness from her tale. He felt his heart shred as she shared the experiences she’s gone through just to get away from her past… and now to tell him about it all made him feel a small sense of pride? Maybe relief? Because to Izuku, this was Y/n showing just how much she loved and trusted him, to open up and allow herself to be so vulnerable. “I trust you Izuku, I want to spend my life with you… so I know this was something I would have to share” She spoke, her voice slightly broken from the sobs, but non the less held nothing but pure lover for him.  “And I want nothing more than to be here supporting and loving you Y/n” He squeezed her tighter, reassuring her that he meant every word he spoke, and had every intention to stay true to it. She let out a sigh of relief, relaxing into his chest, allowing herself to breath in his scent, feel the skin on his arms, and listen to the rhythmic breaths he was taking. She felt safe and content, as if from this position nothing could harm them, not Kacchan, Not her mother, not her past, not the future…. All that mattered was the present, the gift that the universe handed her in the form that was her lovely boyfriend. Izuku continued to rub soothing circles, allowing the world to fade into the background… he was here, training to be a hero, with the love of his life… what else could he ask for?

(larger time skip)

Months had passed since they began training, and now nearing the final stretch of their senior year, Y/n could truly see the changes that were occurring with Izuku. He was muscular, not too big but definitely toned, not to mention the amount he had grown. He was taller, pushing 6’1, and had grown in confidence. Kacchan also began to leave them alone, he was beginning to focus on his own future. Every day, they trained, and soon He was able to keep up with her on the beach runs and lift a fridge with no help... he was still the same Izuku but yet he still changed.

Panting, hunched over on the beach, Izuku stood. Y/n sat atop the fridge he had just moved with a bright smile. "Izu! you're doing so well!" She cheered, jumping down to hand him a bottle of water. Landing with a soft thump, she dusted her butt off before holding up a semi-cold water to Izuku. "Here love, you need it" With a soft thanks and gentle hands, he took the water bottle from her hold and gulped its liquids down. She could only admire how far he'd come, his hard work, his determination, his everything led him to this weekend "The entrance exam" She whispered under her breather, only shifting her stare to his arms, they were littered with small bruises and scratches from them training. "You ready for this Izuku?" with a sigh, he removed the bottle from his lips, wiping his mouth, he turned his attention to her. "as ready as my amazing girlfriend could get me" He giggled, running a hand through his crazed hair in an attempt to slick it back, even just slightly. She rolled her eyes, "I'm serious Izu.. do you feel ready? are you nervous? scared?" She was scared, she had no idea what the entrance exam was like without a recommendation. What if pure strength wasn't good enough? what if they asked for a demonstration of quirks? What if he could die? Yes of course she was worried, she knew Izuku was strong and resistant, she made sure of that... but to send him off like that, to an environment that neither she nor him was familiar with scared her... terrified her. She was spiraling without even realizing it, her anxiety, her fears, her everything was coming to the surface. "Y/n" muffled for sound... "Y/n" it kept calling her but she continued to ignore it... too lost in her own thoughts. That was until two large arms grabbed her shoulders, forcing her out of her panic mind "Y/N" With bright green eyes, Izuku stood in front of her. "Y/n babe, talk to me.... come on" He tried coaxing her out of her fiddled position. "Tell me something love, what... what color is my hair?" He was hopeful that distracting her would calm her enough.

"Green... your hair is green... and you eyes are the exact color" Her eyes still glossed but she was staring right at him. "A-and your face is red, with freckles... like a strawberry" She gently ran her hand over his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off of it and the continue in the brightening color. "My Zuku" She sighed, finally gaining some sort of grounding "I'm right here" he whispered kissing her palm and holding closer to his face. "I will be fine," He spoke as if he was in her mind, reading it but in reality he could just read her that good. "Trust me, trust yourself!" He spoke, moving slowly to take her other hand, that played with her knee "You are an amazing teacher... so please have confidence in us" He had their hands clasped together, holding her tightly... watching as her eyes became their normal Y/e/c. "There they are.. those gorgeous orbs" He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding... watching as she completely came back to this moment, away from her mind. "I trust you... and I am 100% sure you will pass this exam" She nodded, determined, ready, and confident in both his and her own ability's. "Tomorrow... You will shake the world" She said staring into his eyes... "And after this summer... WE will shake the world" With his bright smile and reassuring eyes, she knew that that statement was 1000% true. "TO BE HEARD NO MATTER WHAT" the screamed their words, ones that represent their silent promise to one and other. "Okay Zuku... lets go get you ready"...

(I AM SO SORRY!!! My classes just started nack up and let me tell you WOW they have taken a lot of my time,But I am getting in the grove again... Based on my routine I'm hoping at least one chapeter a week for this BUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUEST!!!) {ALso side note this story is gonna be tranfered over to its own book that way its not to much of the same here<3)

Thank you all for the support and love!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL

[shiloh-the-pokemon]

Off-Screen Post

Blue raced through the streets of Cascarrafa as fast as his little legs could run. Shiloh had no trouble keeping up, but being out in public made them nervous. There were glances and stares from what felt like every angle. Shiloh tried to keep to back alleys, but it was hard to do both that and see where Blue was racing too.

Blue stopped for a minute, clearly out of breath, "Hurry up, Cloud! What if I told you its the greatest surprise ever!"

"yeah, can we just-"

Blue was already racing off again before Shiloh could finish.

After a few more minutes, Blue stopped in front of an alleyway. He started jumping in the air.

"Back here back here back here!"

Shiloh walked up to the alley. There was a left turn at the end of the alley. Shiloh walked in, and Blue walked next to them.

"Okay so basically um, before I show you my big surprise I gotta tell you a story."

Blue stepped in front of Shiloh before they could turn the corner. Shiloh sat down, "alright, lets hear it."

Blue could hardly stand still, Shiloh was afraid they would literally start bouncing off the walls with excitement. "Alright alright alright. So basically. There's this big tall building here, and that's where the strongest Pokemon ever go to battle! I think! And I went to battle there too! Because, um, I had a trainer. Two trainers! My first trainer, they gave me to a new trainer. Because they had a different Wooper. So the other Wooper went to my old trainer. I think it was because I was different. And the other Wooper was not blue and not different."

For the first time since Shiloh had met Blue, his giant smile went away. "The new trainer, we went to the tall building to fight the strong Pokemon. And um all his other Pokemon got hurt and couldn't fight. So it was my turn. But then..."

Blue climbed on top of a trash can for dramatic effect, though most of the effect was lost due to how long it took them to get up there. "The strongest Pokemon ever came out! And it had this big giant crown! And it beat me!

"And my new trainer, he got really mad and sad. He was- he was not nice to me. I think because I lost.

"So guess what!" Blue's smile returned, "I ran away from him! And he searched and stuff but he never found me because I'm the sneakiest ever! So that's why I'm gonna prove him wrong and show him I'm the strongest ever, even if I am blue!"

Blue turned the corner. He poked his head out after a moment, "Psst, follow me!"

Shiloh followed him back. Behind the corner was a pile of glistening blue shards. Shiloh could recognize them, Tera shards. Water ones too, by the looks of it.

Blue walked over to the pile, "Tada! My crown! Um, its a work in a progress."

Shiloh walked over, the blue glow reflected in their eyes. It was astounding. "how many of these are there?"

Blue was beaming with pride, "65 glowy blue shards! I'm gonna evolve into a Clodsire, and then I'm gonna have two more feet, and then I'm gonna make a crown just like the strong Pokemon have! And then I'm gonna be so strong! And- and!"

Blue kicked one of the shards out of the pile, "Now I'm gonna have 64 because I'm gonna give my 32nd friend Cloud one!"

"blue, buddy, you dont have to-"

"I wanna! 32 is a special number because its half the number of shards I have now! So if you don't take one then its not a special number and I can't get you all excited for nothing!"

Shiloh picked up the shard and stared at it. It felt cool to the touch, and it reflected their face in its surface. "thank you." Shiloh smirked, "youre definitely gonna be the strongest clodsire ive ever met, i tell ya."

Shiloh was, of course, lying through their teeth. After all, they knew Clodsire of the Elite Four.

...Who they ran from.

"You bet I am! And! I'm gonna have the coolest crown ever!"

The glistening of the Tera shards faded. Shiloh looked up, expecting a cloud to have passed overhead. Instead, they found that the sun was already setting. Had they really spent the whole day in Cascarrafa?

"yknow, crown or not, youre still pretty cool."

"D'ah, thanks Cloud! You're cool too!" Blue yawned, "So what are we gonna do tomorrow?"

Tomorrow. Shiloh would be something else tomorrow. And they couldn't stay here. Shiloh didn't know why, but they felt the urge to keep moving. As if staying in one place too long was dangerous. As if getting comfortable was a bad thing.

As if they shouldn't let people get close to them.

Shiloh looked at Blue and sighed, "sorry bud, but i got somewhere to be. important stuff, yknow?"

Lies.

"What! But we were having so much fun. You'll come back, right? I gotta show you my crown when its done!"

"i-" Shiloh didn't want to make false promises. But Blue was silently pleading with them. Wasn't there a time when Shiloh was also the weird kid? Wasn't there a time where Shiloh needed a friend more than anything?

...Wasn't that time now?

"i'll come back, yeah. i just gotta. figure stuff out. but i promise."

Blue jumped, "Yes! Go do your important stuff, Cloud! And I'm gonna make the greatest crown ever! Its a deal!"

Shiloh nodded, "catch ya on the flip side, blue."

They ran into the streets, getting out of town before night fell. The Tera shard safely stowed in their satchel.

[convoy914]

Encouraging people not to vote is just gonna help the man who wants people like me lobotomized and/or killed get into power.

You beta-read a fic where "voting is pointless" lead to fascist taking power, an apocalyptic war, and, surprise surprise, MORE GENOCIDE than what would've happened if people hadn't been single-issue voters.

I understand you have Moral OCD, but it's time to actually manage your mental illness instead of just blaming your dangerously black and white thinking on it and feeling bad about yourself whenever something goes wrong as a result.

Trump will NUKE GAZA if he wins, have people like us lobotomized, outlaw all things queer, and destroy Democracy forever.

The Republicans have LITERALLY drafted a plan to undo all of the progress we've made since Trump was voted out of office. This is the worst possible year to abstain from voting.

But no... You're prioritizing your short term comfort over the untold billions of people who'll die if Trump wins the election.

I'm unblocking you so you can answer this one question:

Are you willing to side with the lesser of two evils to prevent "more genocide"? Or are you going to act like doing NOTHING and letting a greater evil than the one you're condemning take power in order to make a statement is the morally superior option?

We went through this in 2016 and I'm not going through this again.

If Trump wins, I will die. Trans children will die. Trump's regime will kill us, and will take a FAR more active role in the genocide in Palestine than the current administration.

Sometimes, you gotta swallow your pride and pick the lesser of two evils. Because letting the greatest evil win is the worst thing you can do.

Seems I didn’t explain myself very well, then. Okay. This has nothing to do with my Moral OCD & everything to do with a simple question: do you believe that the problems will actually be addressed? That this is the most effective form of defeating them? Because I’m not so sure about that anymore. I understand harm reduction, but after a certain point you gotta ask if that’s sustainable as strategy.

I’m not saying DON’T vote, I’m saying that I understand those who won’t. To clarify. Because from everything I’ve seen…I have to question whether or not that’ll actually solve anything. Not even just long term, but short term. I’ve reached this conclusion through analysis of the situation, & I’ve gotta say:

The rot that exists will still exist afterwards. I understand your perspective, I do, but I don’t think it’s as effective as you think it’ll be. The majority of people who think like that don’t have Moral OCD, by the way, they just have no faith in a system that they’re convinced is going to fail them either way.

And I’m not convinced that it won’t, hence my understanding of that perspective. The system is fundamentally broken in a way that can’t be fixed from the inside, is the vibe I’m getting. So why bother? Why participate in a system that’s going to fail to stop it either way? Because that’s the crux of this: That people are convinced they’re fucked anyways.

And I can’t dispute that anymore. I used to be able to, but I just can’t now. Maybe I’m a pessimist, but I can’t see this working out well enough. I don’t see this actually stopping the problem and in that case, what’s even the point? THAT’S the crux of the argument, & after all I’ve seen? I can’t dismiss it as readily as I used to be able to. We don’t live in a democracy, & we never have, to be honest.

It’s not a matter of “short term comfort”, because everyone’s well aware things are going to get worse. This will cause more distress in the long term, but maybe that’s inevitable. Maybe we’re at the point where nothing can be done to fix the system from the inside. Maybe it’s just going to get worse regardless of whether or not we vote. Maybe we DID vote for the lesser evil once & things have still gotten worse. Maybe they’ve failed miserably at being a barrier. Maybe the system can’t be salvaged.

…ultimately, I am NOT the one who’s going to eloquently explain the leftist point of view. I don’t have it in me. Hit up James Roberts or someone else like that. All I have are opinions formed from observation. And from all that I’ve seen, this is my takeaway. I’m sorry, but I can’t change that. Now, in the interest of not having a long drawn out argument, let’s just leave it there, shall we? I wasn’t saying all that to shame you for wanting to vote for the lesser evil, just to also not shame those who don’t believe that’s good enough as an actual solution.

I understand where you’re coming from, I do, but I also understand where THEY’RE coming from & I can’t dismiss it as readily as you can. Not with all that I’ve seen. This is ultimately a matter of two differing worldviews on what will actually amount to an effective solution. It’s a matter of what you believe will actually reduce the most harm, & I’m not convinced anymore that this is the only way.

I AM sorry if that came across as insulting, I was just trying to explain why I can’t wholeheartedly condemn the “it’s pointless to vote” people. Not anymore. Not after what I’ve seen. But ultimately I feel like you fundamentally misunderstand the kinds of people making those arguments to begin with. It has nothing to do with “personal comfort”. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Now. This has gotten out of control, so to answer your question…I’m not “siding” with anyone, regardless. I’m open to being pragmatic, but I understand those who can’t be. That’s it, really. I think the system is far gone, & I can’t see it recovering. I’d like to be proven wrong. I haven’t. And that’s infuriating, & it’s reality

It’s the difference between “the system is broken & must be fixed” & “the system is working exactly as intended & must be dismantled”.

[lexicorp]

Rlly have no idea dude and it is hella frustrating when that favoritism shines thru fr

The Red Alert paranoia lore is so dang real, especially paired with those dreaded eggshells. Its so aggravating when you'll say some shit without thought and then it just activates something in them and it's just like goddamit- then ya gotta damage control and it's just so much

And hek yeah! Love me some OC lore and yours is hella intriguing! :D

I definitely think it's a very good thing for Arc to still not let him get away with it. Get a bit of that more healthy style banter where it doesn't need to get physical and learning the boundaries of what can and shouldn't be prodded at.

Also Star kinda low-key weaponizing the Megatron accusation because of how sensitive he is with hyper analyzing similarities is so real. Cuz it'd be a means of shutting Arc's defensiveness down as a means of regaining control, as well as possibly a subconscious effort of preventing a progression of full on aggression on her end. Since that's what would have got his mind on the Megatron comparison, even if logically he doesn't think she would or would be like "I could take her" anyway; I think that underlying paranoia/fear do be bubblin.

Also your mentioning his jealousy when she's gentle with others reminds me of Discord from MLP fim so much actually--

And the mirroring that sorta behavior rlly does invoke the sense of that ridged fairness/equality in a way. It happens so much with those who always go with the rules and then if they fuck up once get hell for it, but someone else who breaks them all the time doesn't actually get punished, or you do instead. Happens /all/ the time with school 😒

Then your season 5 lore with Megatron's petty ass tryna drag his second down with him I feel just bleeds canon XD like that is such a dick move and perfect for him tbh djdbdjbd

Some people just really spec into that Charisma stat and it can be horrifying

I agree it's very hard to explain. I think it certainly has something do with being able to break the experience down to kinda process it better while also having that kinship when elsewhere the experience is isolating

Then the oxymoron amidst the struggle to mirror what made him, vs the uncomfortable realization that he hated what did so is so palpable

Reminds me of this text post I saw a while back where the person had been held up in their room a bunch, and finally came down to exist with the fam. Then the dad made some backhanded comment akin to "the tenant has revealed themself" (hella paraphrased), but then after it came out he was like "wait. My dad used to say that, and I hated it. Sorry bout that." And honestly that instant recognition is very impressive

Starscream is very complicated in his flavor of cowardice, ego, insecurity, pride, lust for power/control-so on and so forth. Its so, so much to break down. And I love that about his character

i need to see more starop where starscream is having trouble breaking the cycle, so he falls back into his old habits.

one of the most difficult parts about breaking the cycle of abuse is trying your hardest to not repeat the behaviors your abuser imprinted on to you. speaking from experience, it can be very hard when you enter a healthy relationship and find yourself thinking like your abuser.

so imagine, starscream finally joins the autobots. by some unfortunate circumstance, they lose an important battle. optimus encourages his team, but privately, he retreats to somewhere isolated to think. starscream finds him and asks what he's doing.

when optimus admits that he's disappointed in himself for not doing the best he could on the battlefield, starscream finds himself scoffing. "well, maybe we wouldn't be in the position if you'd done a better job to begin with," he grumbles, his voice slowly escalating. "i thought you were supposed to be some great leader. or is your reputation all a myth? because of you, now the decepticons have the advantage, and we're one step closer to losing this war!" outraged that optimus hasn't said anything, he shouts, "are you even listening to me, prime?!"

when optimus turns his helm to look up, starscream is spooked by what he sees. he doesn't see the face of someone about to drop to his knees and beg for mercy. instead, the look in his normally lively blue optics can best be described as haunted, almost dead, but clinging onto the last shreds of life.

the realization hits starscream like enemy fire. his voice box shorts out as he trips over his own words, trying to take them back. one thought comes to mind, and he knows optimus is thinking it, too.

i sound like megatron.

[bucksfucks]

freshly squeezed lemonade

summary: a new city, a new house, a new life, & a new hot neighbour who just so happens to be really good with his hands.

pairing: neighbour!bucky x f!reader

word count: 2,600 words

warnings: talk of cheating [readers ex-husband], talk of divorce, reader doesn’t want kids [kid-free by choice], character mention: sam wilson, sexual tension with bucky, pet-name [plum], mention of spanking, lots of teasing, bucky works out shirtless, sexual activities in the kitchen, bucky takes readers panties off with teeth, bucky keeps readers panties, oral, squirting, sex against window, exhibitionism, dog tag kink, choking [bicep], dumbification [dumb baby, stupid, big girl words], belly bulge kink, size kink, mocking + degradation, breeding kink, wife/housewife kink, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

Men.

It was always men that managed to ruin your life.

From your high school boyfriend abandoning you at prom or your that one college hookup that managed to say all the wrong things.

It was always men.

You thought your husband, ex, husband was different. That’s why you agreed to marry him in the first place.

He was sweet and charming, whisking you away on dates and telling you how pretty you looked.

The facade didn’t last. After the honeymoon is when things slowly started crumbling.

He began picking up longer working hours, claiming that it was exactly what you guys needed to start a family.

A family? He never listened to you.

You didn’t want kids. In fact, you were incredibly happy being the aunt to all you nieces and nephews making sure that you were their safe space.

It was never in your books to have kids.

So when you discovered that you wonderful, loving, caring husband had cheated on you—you didn’t hesitate to draft up divorce papers, find a new place, and then spend six months travelling the world.

You met amazing people and made amazing memories. But you were back again at a new city city, a new job, and a new house.

It felt so…empty.

Minimalism not by choice, but by necessity.

A few pictures hung on the walls, some of your family and friends, but were mostly cheap prints you found at your local home goods store.

A work in progress, is what you told yourself as you slowly settled in. It didn’t have to perfect.

The neighbourhood was nice; cute, quaint, and quiet. The people were nice and helpful, welcoming you as you caught the eyes of a particular neighbour.

Everyone called him James, but he introduced himself as Bucky as he extended an arm for you to shake.

It was warm, a beaming smile on his face as he pointed to the u-haul truck in your driveway.

“Need any help?”

You remember shaking your head, pride and ego too high before Bucky scoffed.

“You expect me to believe that a pretty little thing like you is gonna carry in an entire couch by herself?”

You felt embarrassed. You therapist did tell you that it was okay to ask for help, so you finally caved.

Bucky called over another neighbour; Sam.

He made you laugh within the first five minutes as his nephews came barrelling down the street yelling.

“We can help!”

And they did, the two boys probably did more than the three adults ever did—and the best part is that they still had energy by the end of it.

“I don’t have much, but how about I order us some pizza’s as a thank you?” You offered, shutting your fridge as you realized you had nothing but a few beers and some ketchup.

Sam laughed, “I’ll take you up on that offer next time, but I’ve gotta get back.”

You thanked him profusely, telling that the pizza offer didn’t expire before it was just you and Bucky.

The old you would have never asked for help, let alone offering a stranger dinner, but here you were.

You both are swapping stories before the night grew young and you’d swapped numbers.

Yeah, this neighbourhood was alright.

Bucky had a habit of doing most things shirtless. 

Not like you minded, in fact, it didn’t seem like anyone in the neighbourhood really minded. Only Sam ever giving Bucky shit asking do you even own any shirts?

It was Sunday morning which meant you’d woken up to multiple sets of lawnmowers and the faint sound of chirping birds before you’d decided that you’d add your brand new hydrangea tree to your front yard. 

Lucky for you, Bucky had decided to workout at the same time. 

He jogged past you, stopping to send you a wink.

“Looking good, plum!” He chuckled, stopping on his driveway as you saw the gym equipment in his garage. 

You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh as you continued to prod at the dirt. 

The sexual tension that Bucky carried with him was obvious. You’d learned very quickly that everyone was interested in getting into Bucky’s pants, but no one had ever gotten that lucky.

He loved the attention though, he had to as he did pull-ups in full view of everyone. 

It wasn’t long until his sweaty torso, dog tags clinging softly, was making it’s way over to you as he brushed a few beads of sweat off his forehead before crouching down beside you. 

“What are these?” He asked, slightly out of breath as you dropped the small shovel in your hand.

“Hydrangea’s.” You answered, smiling as you finished patting the soil. 

He hummed, “they smell sweet.” 

You nodded your head, “they’re my favourite.” 

Bucky looked at you, smiling, “not as sweet as you though, plum.” 

It was an instinct to roll your eyes as Bucky chuckled, the two of you standing up as the local power walking club passed you; mostly paying attention to the shirtless Bucky. 

You couldn’t blame them. 

“You wanna come in for some lemonade? It’s freshly squeezed.” You enticed him as he chuckled.

“I’d love some.” 

Bucky knew your house all too well, his trips becoming so frequent that you had decided to give him the tour one night before dinner. 

They were cookie cutter houses, an identical copy to all the other houses on the block, but Bucky still took the tour as if his life depended on it. 

“Any plans for today?” You asked, opening the fridge as you grabbed the glass pitcher while Bucky slid onto one of the bar stools. 

“I’ve got a few case files to look over tonight,” he groaned as you poured him a tall glass and slid it over to him before you did the same for yourself. 

Bucky was an attorney, so it made sense as to why he didn’t have wife. 

Or at least that’s what you told yourself because surely there’s eligible people that he’s shown interest in. 

His work hours were hectic and never consistent, some days staying in the office until five and other until one in the morning. 

“Well then here’s to the weekend,” you smiled, raising your glass as Bucky did the same, lightly tapping them against one another before taking a sip. 

He let out an approving moan, eyes locked with yours as he licked the remaining lemonade from his bottom lip; but he knew what he was doing.

“Almost as sweet as you,” he was proud, the smirk on his lips telling enough as you shook your head.

“You’ve gotta put that pent up sexual energy to use, James.” 

The slip of his name always did something to him, watching the way his eyes darkened just a little. 

“Plum, if you call me James one more time I’ll have no choice but to put you over my knee,” he deadpanned, your breath catching in your throat at the prospect. 

Was that something you were into? You weren’t sure, but for Bucky? You’d try anything once.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you mumbled jokingly, half jokingly, as you began wiping the counter down to distract yourself from the fact that Bucky had stood up and was reaching his black and gold arm out to place over yours; stopping your movements. 

“Let’s stop playing this game,” he purrs, heavy hand tugging you so you’re facing him. 

His hair has grown since you’d met him almost eight months ago, pushed back from his sweaty workout as you meet his gaze.

It’s darkened, pupils consuming his irises as you swallow thickly.

“What game?” 

He shakes his head, looking down as another smirk tugs at his lips.

“Don’t act stupid with me now.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine at the authority in his voice and the way he’s holding you by your bicep.

“Don’t act like you don’t think about me late at night,” he purrs, voice dropping an octave and you can smell him. 

There’s sweat and bergamot, presumably his deodorant as you’re chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Do you wanna know what I think about, plum?” He then cooes, cupping your face gently with his cool palm. 

You can only nod your head. 

He turns your head, “see those windows?”

He asks, your eyes scanning the large living room glass before you nod your head. 

“They look out  into the entire neighbourhood.” He whispers, “and I’ve dreaming about the day I get to fuck you against them for everyone to see.” 

His words make you gasp, breath hitching in your throat as you have to bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to slip past your lips.

“Dreaming about the day I get to make you mine.” 

You feel butterflies, but not in your tummy. 

He pulls you close again, pressed against his crotch and oh. 

“That’s what you do to me,” you wiggle your hips instinctively, finding your confidence and Bucky sees this. 

“Use those big girl words of yours, plum. I know you’re a smart girl,” he mocks, tapping your lip and suddenly you forget how to speak. 

“I want you to use me,” you finally manage to spit out, watching the way Bucky’s face lights up and the way his cock twitches against your hip. 

“Good girl. See what happens when you put that baby brain of yours to work?” He taunts you, already bunching your sundress until he’s hiking it around your waist so he can slip his fingers under your panties. 

It makes you gasp, eyes closing and mouth opening as he runs warm fingers through your folds. 

“So fucking wet.” He growls, “barely need any warming up, could probably take my cock right now. So desperate.” 

Oh how his taunts makes your knees weak. 

He’s quick to sink to his knees, nose prodding your covered core as he looks up at you before he’s biting your panties with his teeth and slowly tugging them down your legs.

That’s a new one. 

It causes a moan to bubble, leaning against your counter as he shoves your panties into his pocket.

“I think I’ll keep these.” 

Do whatever you want, just touch me you keep repeating in your head as you feel his hot breath over your pussy. 

His mouth is finally over you, lapping your juice up as he hums and moans against you. The vibrations are enough to have you teetering on the edge, his beard rubbing against your inner thighs and you’ll be feeling that tomorrow.

“God,” he groans. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet, plum.” 

You look down, seeing the way he’s palming himself through his shorts all while he’s eating you out and it sends a shiver running over your body. 

He pulls away, lips glistening under the light filtering through your windows.

“Have you ever squirted?” 

The question catches you off-guard, mouth slightly agape as you stutter out nonsense. 

“I-uh, I think? Maybe, once, I-I don’t,” you don’t know what the right answer is, but Bucky just hushes you.

“I want you to relax, okay? Don’t think, just feel.” He explains as you swallow and nod your head before he’s back between your legs. 

He starts slow again, with his tongue flat against you before feel his fingers at your entrance. 

When he slowly stretches you, curling his vibranium fingers, there’s absolutely no holding back.

“That’s it baby.” He cooes, “can feel you squeezing me, I know you wanna.”

It’s a slightly foreign feeling. The tightness and pressure mixing and meshing with each other as sudden waves start washing over you. 

It happens all of a sudden, a loud yelp leaving you as you soak Bucky’s face and chest, and Bucky looks feral. 

He’s up, standing, before pulling you into a kiss, your first kiss, where you can taste yourself. 

“You ever done that, plum?” He asks, heaving chest and aching cock as you shake your head.

“No.” 

“Of course you haven’t, but now that your sweet cunt is mine, I’m gonna have you squirting every goddamn day.” He growls, quickly tearing your dress off of you, taking a step back and admiring you. 

“You see this?” He pulls his cock free, pumping himself, “all because of you.” 

You’re kissing him again, skin against skin, as you’re moving towards the large windows in the early afternoon light before Bucky has you pressed up against it. 

The glass is cold against your skin, nipples perking up as you gasp again, “now everyone’ll know just who you belong to.

It makes you whimper, feeling him run the head of his cock through your folds teasingly. 

He kicks your feet apart further before he’s wrapping his bicep around your neck, getting so close to your ear that you can feel his breath against you. 

When he sinks into your slowly, you relax against him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, “so fucking tight.” 

Your walls flutter around him, greedily grabbing him as you swallow him. 

“Taking my cock so well, baby. And all for the neighbours to see.” He chuckles lowly, bottoming out and pulling your back flush against his chest.

His warm, wandering hand starts down at your clit, teasing you before slowly running up your tummy before he groans. 

“I’m deep inside you, can you feel me?” He purrs, pressing on the belly bulge as another low groan echos in your ear. 

“Bucky,” you whine, wiggling your ass as you feel your slick against your own thighs now, without a doubt dripping onto Bucky too. 

“Aww, sweetheart.” He’s mocking now, “you need to be fucked? Can feel how wet and desperate you are.” 

He rocks his hips, a gentle taunt as he gets even deeper. 

“S’okay,” he cooes. “I’m gonna take care of you even better than that husband of yours ever did.” 

He then snaps his hips harshly, taking the breath from your lungs as you’re pressed harder against the glass. 

You can feel his now hot dog tags pressed against your back, clinking together as he fucks you deep and hard. 

“C’mon, plum.” He grunts, “want you to squirt over my cock.”

The same pressure is there again, like a rubber band waiting to snap as Bucky’s fingers find your clit and you can’t hold it back anymore.

You’re soaking his cock, pushing him out with the force of your orgasm as Bucky bites down on your shoulder before he’s slipping back inside of you. 

“My dirty slut, getting fucked for the neighbours to see,” he growls.

“But I’m not satisfied yet.”

He’s grabbing your ass, squeezing the supple flesh, “come for me, cream over my cock, plum. Let me breed you.” 

You’re whimpering, voice leaving you as you feel your orgasm gripping your body in immense pleasure before Bucky’s hips are stuttering deep inside of you and you can feel the twitch of his cock. 

The sound of Bucky cumming, deep, rumbling moans replay in your mind as you find your breath again, his bicep relaxing from your neck. 

He presses soft kisses to your shoulders and neck, turning you around with a lazy smile. 

“You’d make a great wife, you know that?” He smirks, wiping your bottom lip.

“Sweet, innocent looking thing on the outside, but fuck do you make my knees weak, plum.” 

You can’t help but giggle, pulling him in by his dog tags, “take me to dinner first, James.” You purr teasingly, watching him bite his lip.

“Only if I can have you for dessert.” 

Dessert, breakfast, lunch, dinner? Bucky didn’t care, he just wanted you always. 

And he finally got you.

[thewiscryptid]

🇹‌🇮‌🇹‌🇦‌🇳‌ 🇦‌🇪‌ 🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇪‌🇳‌🇨‌🇪‌🇸‌ (2000)

change any pronouns or words to suit your use! 

❛  My invention broke.  ❜

❛  No today, kid. We gotta go.  ❜

❛  We all have to go somewhere safe.  ❜

❛  Maybe when you're older, kid.  ❜

❛  I have to go away for awhile.  ❜

❛  It's not safe where I'm going.  ❜

❛  Take this. As long as you wear it, there's hope. I will see you again.  ❜

❛  No! It's not okay! It's not okay!  ❜

❛  Destroy the humans. Destroy them all.  ❜

❛  You can wait in line, I'm taking the express.  ❜

❛  I'm not asking for that much. I just want them to kill my food before serving it to me.  ❜

❛  Every day I wake up, it's still the present. The same, grimy present. I don't think this future thing exists.  ❜

❛  Ah ha! Just needed some love!  ❜

❛  We don't like your attitude.  ❜

❛  If you wanna hunt humans, remember we travel in packs.  ❜

❛  What I'm doing is, commonly known as, 'helping'.  ❜

❛  You've really changed me. Really, it's just beautiful. You've changed me.  ❜

❛  I don't need you or anyone. I don't need your 'mission'. And I don't need your help with these overgrown morons.  ❜

❛  Are we in good company?  ❜

❛  I think we've fallen in with a very bad crowd.  ❜

❛  I've spent the last 15 years looking for you.  ❜

❛  How do you know they want me dead?  ❜

❛  You should be bracing yourself.  ❜

❛  Please, tell me this pod has an eject.  ❜

❛  Is it dead? Can we eat it?  ❜

❛  Why you positively glow with maternal warmth. It’s very fetching. I must have you. ❜

❛  I must have you.  ❜

❛  For your information, I am humanity's last, one great hope.  ❜

❛  I weep for the species.  ❜

❛  Do you mind? Are we through pawing?  ❜

❛  This is ___, not a singles' bar.  ❜

❛  I never agreed to help you. What’s in this ‘great cause’ for me?  ❜

❛  Where are my pants?!  ❜

❛  You wanna watch who you're stepping on.  ❜

❛  Fight the good fight, precious!  ❜

❛  I will kill you, okay? I. Will. Kill. You.  ❜

❛  I am educated and well-read! I am not a mechanic! I HAVE MY PRIDE!  ❜

❛  I made it last night in my sleep.  ❜

❛  I put a button on it. I wish to press it but I do not know what will happen if I do.  ❜

❛  I’ll tell you a secret, this guy’s nuts!  ❜

❛  This isn’t a joyride, kid.  ❜

❛  It’s not about a good run. It’s about survival.  ❜

❛  I’m not keen on being caught with my trousers down.  ❜

❛  Yes, making progress. Yes! I’m making progress!  ❜

❛  Yes, caveman. ____, bad. We, good. Now go look at something shiny for awhile!  ❜

❛  What were you doing?! Taking a nap?!  ❜

❛  Let’s quit running our collective mouths and go get him.  ❜

❛  No matter how hard things got— no matter how hard— those memories kept me going.  ❜

❛  It’s not what we did. They’re afraid of what we’d become.  ❜

❛  Easy, big girl. This requires cunning and deception.  ❜

❛  Stop fidgeting, worm!  ❜

❛  Just out of curiosity, do we have a plan B?  ❜

❛  Hm. An intelligent guard. Didn’t see that one coming.  ❜

❛  The boy is not dead. That is cause for happiness.  ❜

❛  Aw, we were just about to rescue you.  ❜

❛  We got really lucky. But next time…  ❜

❛  Thank you for trying to find me. It’s more than my father ever did.  ❜

❛  You know, I— I miss him.  ❜

❛  That junk is all that’s left of the place we came from.  ❜

❛  You think this is some game? We had a deal!  ❜

❛  Look what I found: two little birdies, itching to fly.  ❜

❛  Everything was a lie? Everything you told me?  ❜

❛  The only thing that matters is grabbing what you can before somebody else does.  ❜

❛  Why they not say goodbye to ____?  ❜

❛  Uh, I’d lean back if I were you.  ❜

❛  What? Should I get out and push?  ❜

❛  I’m picking up a veritable cornucopia of nothing.  ❜

❛  I need one clear shot. Don’t lose ‘em.  ❜

❛  Watch the ship. I always watch the ship. Something doesn’t feel right.  ❜

❛  Is ____ right there with you? Tell him goodbye for me, would you?  ❜

❛  I can’t change the past but I hope I can give you a future.  ❜

❛  He always did talk too much.  ❜

❛  It wasn’t just the money that they were offering. It was the health plan. I get to live if they kill all of you.  ❜

❛  I’ll just take a little nap. Since I’m so… very sleepy.  ❜

❛  Oh, stop! There’s nothing more tiresome than last minute heroics!  ❜

❛  You’re not gonna shoot me, kid.  ❜

❛  Go. It’s better this way.  ❜

❛  Yeah. I’m going to call it… ‘Bob’.  ❜

❛  What? You’re the King of ____ now?  ❜

❛  I am never, ever….calling it that.  ❜

[lollytea]

HCs for Gus Hunter Mattholomule eventual friendship? 👀

If anybody has like good headcanons of the three of them together they should send them to me cuz not a lot is coming to mind rn. The only thing I can really think of at the moment is Hunter getting roped into being Mattholomule's relationship therapist. Which is very funny to me, but very Matt and Hunter centric with little Gus involvement. But I'll talk about it anyway.

I like to imagine that if Matt develops a crush on Gus, he doesn't actually realize it until he's like 15-16 and has a little gay crisis over it. And Hunter (around 18-19 at this point.) sees his younger self in Matt so he's like "Hey. Wanna talk about it?"

Their relationship is fun cuz Matt is very hesitant to extend it any further beyond playfully vitriolic because he's not very good at expressing friendship in a sincere way. Hunter, meanwhile, has never minded playing along with this dynamic and Matt is super obnoxious so it's very easy for him to be snappy with him. However, Hunter is also a very gentle and compassionate person and has had a few years of practise talking about emotions with people, so he has no problem breaking the status quo of his and Matt's dynamic and offering support when he thinks Matt is actually upset. Though it freaks Matt out a lot and makes him uncomfortable so he throws a little bitchfit about it and insists he doesn't need Hunter's help and storms off.

Only to cave under the pressure of his own complicated emotions and goes running back to Hunter about an hour later. Because like. He needs to talk. And yell. And complain. And get this shit out of his system. He doesn't know what else to do but go talk to Hunter about it. Even if it takes swallowing all his pride to do so.

And so begins the saga of Mattholomule's crush on Gus getting worse and worse with every passing day, which leads to so much overthinking and magnifying and panic on Matt's end and every time he has a moment where he's like "But....but what if he finds out and it fucks everything up?? What then??" He picks up his crow and calls Hunter.

This happens....a lot. And more often that not, Hunter is in the middle of something. Either giving a presentation on his wild magic research, or having an important dinner with a witch he's trying to get a job from, or taking an afternoon nap after pulling an all-nighter, or about to score a win for his flyer derby team, or Titan forbid, trying to spend quality time with his girlfriend, there WILL be a fucking crow smashing itself against the nearest window and demanding Hunter's attention until he picks up. And every fucking time it's just that gay little bitch.

And every fucking time, Hunter answers. He's not even mad. He's been in this situation and he just sympathises with Matt so much that he has the patience of a Saint when it comes to dealing with him.

Willow is getting progressively more and more pissed that Matt keeps interrupting her dates RIGHT when it's getting to the good part.

Hunter will be untangling their limbs and trying to stand up so he can answer the crow and she's like "Honey....you can just ignore it. He will survive, I promise."

But Hunter's just like "But...I gotta help him, Cap. I gotta. You don't know what he's like. He's got big sad wet eyes and he nervous sweats all the time."

And Willow just has to sigh and accept it, because she can't exactly be mad that her boyfriend won't rest until he's made sure every single one of his friends is happy.

She can still be irritated as hell at Matt tho.

Anyway Hunter barely even needs to talk to Matt when he has these little moments. Most of the time, all Hunter has to do is stay on the other line and go "Mmm." Cuz mostly, Matt just wants to yell into the void but it's comforting to have someone who will listen and Hunter is the only person he trusts to do it. He feels weird asking Steve cuz Matt loves him but he also idolizes him and doesn't wanna come across as a pathetic pining idiot around him.

"But you know what it's like to be a pathetic pining idiot so it doesn't matter." He tells Hunter on one occasion.

"You suck, you know that Mattholomule?"

[tempestaslokni]

"Yeah, let's try to get higher up, that might be the first step to getting some signal, if any." Lokni agreed with Miss Palmer's suggestion. They worked together to clear the kitchen out of any salvageable supplies. Looked like it was gonna be beans and corn for a good while, not the best combination. Well, beggars can't be choosers, and at this point, they weren't even beggars, they were scavengers. Two little coyotes running around trying to find anything edible.

After they had scrounged up what they could find, including a nice pot that Lokni shoved in his bag, they began to make their way upwards. Despite what people say about survival, containers and bottles in general, were game changers; that, and having something to cook with. Miss Palmer struck up more conversations, which Lokni was thankful for as he wasn't that great of a conversationalist. As they got to the top of one ladder, Lokni offered Miss Palmer a hand at the top and she asked, "I know this is going to be a stupid question, but is it similar to how the job is depicted in movies? Like, do you wear the hat and the boots and are riding horses for most of it?"

Lokni stared at her blankly before slowly saying, "yee-haw." A period of silence passed before he finally said, "that was a joke." He looked down at his dusty boots. He was partially outfitted for the part currently. "I guess it's pretty accurate to the movies- but I don't go chasing after stagecoaches and shooting up banks. I just herd cows and spend a lot of time with my horse. We do wear hats and boots, although modern attire is a little different from what you might see in the movies. What about you, do you wear a little apron and walk around offering coffee to everyone?" he asked earnestly.

"Do you like it? Your job, I mean?" Miss Palmer asked sincerely.

"I do. It pays, and I'm not suited for much else if I'm being honest. I much rather be in the saddle than desk jockeying. Don't think I'd be much use in a corporate setting." Lokni explained as he surveyed how many more ladders they still had to climb. They were making good progress for the most part, working together to navigate the wreckage of the ship's halls.

Then, Miss Palmer said the funniest thing Lokni had heard in years. "Did some snakes actually show up and cause trouble? Or is it more of a farm expression?" Miss Palmer asked and Lokni couldn't hold back the laughter that followed. The mental image of a bunch of snakes just showing up and raising hell was very amusing to him. After he managed to regain some control, he straightened, "it's an expression, means 'to cause trouble,' or something like that. To answer your other question, horses don't fancy snakes too much- their movements overall are the kind that startle horses. Not that they would startle my Chenoa." He said with a bit of pride at the last part. He had worked hard to bomb-proof Chenoa over the years, and now, she was as calm as they come.

Miss Palmer talked a lot, but it wasn't a bad thing, he appreciated having her there to fill the silence. The ship seemed a lot less eerie with her here. She spoke about wanting to learn to ride horses, to which Lokni replied, "it's not a bad hobby, but it's expensive if you go the hobby route and not the professional one. I know especially if you get into a lot of the English stuff, like dressage and showjumping, you gotta' have deep pockets to back it up." She listened to what Lokni had to say, taking it in before something else seemed to cross her mind, ""Wanna talk about what kind of things went wrong before you got here? Just if you'd like, of course."

Lokni nodded, might as well get it off of his chest, who was Miss Palmer gonna' tell? The seagulls? "I'm not opposed to it, as I mentioned, mother nature decided to wake snakes. There was a fire, and by the time I had woken up, it was already dangerously close to the herd I was managing with my boss' son. Shit hit the fan basically. We made it back alright but Andy's horse Ole' Red stepped in a hole, broke his leg, Andy got thrown and knocked out in the chaos of it all. I got Andy up on my horse, but I had to put Ole' Red down because he couldn't outrun the fire with a broken leg. Didn't want him to die a slow, burning death, so I did him one last favor. Still didn't sit well with me. Ole' Red was a damn good horse, a shame to see him go." Even talking about it made a bitter taste form at the back of his throat. It was part of the job, but that didn't make it easier. "I'm not trying to ramble, it's just a lot happened and I don't know how to break it down well." Lokni apologized, he did want to ask her about who she had been visiting in the hospital, but that might be too forward. Now wasn't a good time for that.

Hearing Miss Palmer talk about her days as a waitress was interesting. He knew some diners in the nearest town. He could picture the job being pretty hectic at times. "Did you always want to be a waitress? If you could choose any line of work what would it be?" Lokni asked, curious to hear what she had to say. Miss Palmer also explained in-depth about some of her work experiences, "It's not too detailed, it helps me get an idea of what it's like through your eyes. My customers are all cows and horses, I don't have the first clue about how hard it is to work with people every day." Lokni chuckled in reply "what made work a good day for you? Outside of work, what did you do in your freetime?" He wanted to get more information about her and if there was a correlation to them being 'chosen.' However, Lokni still had his doubts. At one point they arrived at two ladders, one was dimly illuminated while the other seemed to ascend into darkness. "Do you have any preferences? I know the one with the lights probably goes to a lower floor, but I am not sure heading into complete darkness would be the smartest. What do you think?" Miss Palmer asked, eyeing the darkness above the other ladder curiously. "Well, we're trying to get to the top right? I'd like to find out what's at the top of the darkness. Does that fancy phone of yours have a flashlight, Miss?" Lokni asked, pulling his knife from his belt, "I'll go first and take a look around." He said as he held the hilt of his hunting knife between his teeth and began to ascend the ladder into the maw of darkness.

Darcy waited eagerly for Lokni to see if his phone could get any message through. Maybe it was just her smartphone that was the problem. She read an article once that praised the older models before the smartphone came and claimed they still worked better than all of these new, flashier phones. Maybe that was the key?

But they didn't have any luck - Lokni showed his phone being unable to send his own message either. "We really do gotta get to higher ground, maybe it really is the key to making contact with anyone," Darcy said again, more trying to convince herself that it would be true than anything else.

Darcy looked down at her phone, tried to send the message one more time and then with a long sigh she slipped the device back into her back pocket and headed into the kitchen to help pack up what they could find. She also contemplated packing a knife for herself, but eventually decided against it - if it came down to fighting, a knife would not be too big of a help for her. She never had any training in how to use it, she'd be more prone to injuring herself.

The two of them then set out while Darcy listened to Lokni explain his job, what his day looked like. He called himself a cowboy, and she couldn't help but ask, "I know this is going to be a stupid question, but is it similar to how the job is depicted in movies? Like, do you wear the hat and the boots and are riding horses for most of it?" Clearly, the most important question to ask about one's job. "Do you like it? Your job, I mean?"

His good and bad days were described, and Darcy frowned at the last bit, tilting her head to the side. "Not quite sure what that really means, I'm sorry. Did some snakes actually show up and cause trouble? Or is it more of a farm expression?"

A moment's pause and then a thought popped into her head. "Horses don't like snakes, right? Is that an actual thing or my mind just failing on me due to-- well, everything? I always wanted to learn how to ride horses, but it never really happened." She was probably saying too much, jumping in between topics, but they were trying to find their way up and she didn't want to do it in silence. And she was curious about him, if she was being honest. "Wanna talk about what kind of things went wrong before you got here? Just if you'd like, of course."

He asked her what she did, too. "Oh, I was a waitress. Nothing fancy, in a small town. Half of the people were people who came in every day and half was just people passing through and stopping for a moment. The regulars were okay for the most part, some of them grumpy but you could find a voice with them - or at least I could I guess -, but some of the people who were passing through were just flat out rude.

"So I'd say those were the worst days for me - when a whole bus of people decided to stop and come into the diner I worked in and they were rushing and pushing each other and rude about everything cause they were just too tired from travel." She paused and let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, probably way too much detail."

Eventually they reached their first conondrum - in a short distance, there were two ladders heading up, one higher but into complete darkness, while the other one was a smaller one, but she could see lights and a hallway where they could continue further. "Do you have any preferences? I know the one with the lights probably goes to a lower floor, but I am not sure heading into complete darkness would be the smartest. What do you think?"

[likeastarstar]

7:22 PM- Jungkook

(A/N: this is connected to my 9:20 PM and 6:00 PM couple. Read those before this one if you want, or don't- either way, feedback is appreciated! This is pre-breakup, post 9:20PM, if that makes sense.)

"When you say you like my lips, are you picturing them wrapped around your cock?"

Jungkook's eyes snapped up to yours, holding contact there like you had dared him to a staring contest. You didn't waver, for once. This was new to you, being so forward. His face was neutral for a moment, making you nervous until he raised his eyebrows a fraction and tipped his head to the side, impressed by you. You felt a warm sense of pride blossom in your chest, taking it as an invitation to nestle closer to him.

He made room for you, slotting you against his body like he knew you liked.

"Yeah," He admitted. "I also just like the words that come out of them and how they look when you're smirking at me, kind of like you are now."

He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger rubbing soft circles into the supple flesh. He let his eyes lock onto the way your lips looked as he toyed with you, running the edge of his touch along the seams, stopping at the corner and then tracing the edges of your mouth all over again. He hummed in a satisfied sort of way before looking back up to you, his own smirk now settled onto his face, "But yeah. When I say I like your lips, I'm picturing them wrapped around my cock. Must feel nice- they're soft and warm and when you lick them every so often they're wet, shiny."

You licked them now, wetting your lips unconsciously because your mouth was wet too, saliva pooling just at the notion of Jungkook wanting this cock in your mouth.

You smiled, leaning into his hand until his rough palm was cupping your hand, "You're really good at turning me on."

"You're really easy to arouse," He countered, grinning teasingly at you, "All it takes is a little honesty and some good communication and boom- you wanna sit on my dick."

You did just that, slinking your leg over his lap and squeezing against his thigh, powering yourself upright until you were straddling his lap, "Honesty and communication aren't my strong suits, remember? I'm turned on by them because I'm jealous it comes so easily to you."

"You wouldn't have admitted that a couple months ago," Jungkook noted, "Progress."

A couple months ago, you couldn't even admit to yourself that you liked Jungkook- let alone that you wanted him this bad. It was new, the status change from reluctant friends to... something more. You hadn't even had the chance to go down in him, which is what caused this whole conversation. Things were still difficult, he still annoyed you endlessly and made you be honest about things you'd normally just lie about. You still preferred it, lying. Even if it meant you were lonely. You didn't really know why you were indulging him so much, why you were trying to hard to let him into your head.

"Progress," You repeated, mumbling against his lips before kissing him. You rocked yourself against him, pushing your chest against him. You wanted him close, so incredibly close. You tried pulling him nearer to you but got frustrated when he did the opposite, leaning back against the couch the two of you had been sprawled out on, whatever movie he had chosen drolling on uselessly in the background.

"Uh, uh- You gotta say it," He reprimanded, looking at you from the corner of his eye. "Tell me what you want."

"I already said you make me horny," You whined, squirming in his lap.

"Okay, so what do you want me to do about that? I make a lot of women horny-"

Jungkook cut himself off, wincing in pain as you dug you hand into his arm instinctively, nails pressing into the flesh of his bicep. You glared at him, raking your hand down a couple centimeters before releasing him, "Don't talk about other girls when I'm on top of you."

"What about when you're underneath me?"

You made a glutteral noise of disgust and shoved him away from you, moving to climb off of him before his large hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place easily.

"Okay, okay- I'll stop," He lamented, laughing despite himself. "Let's go back to you telling me what to do."

"Let's just watch the movie," You pouted, as immature as ever.

Jungkook sent you a reproachful look, wrapping his arms around your waist stubbornly. He shook his head silently, leaning forwards to kiss his way up your neck, sucking on the warm, thin skin there. "I'm sorry, doll. I was just teasing you."

"I don't like the idea of other girls wanting you," You mumbled, letting him bite bruises into your neck despite normally hating the marks left behind the next day. You wanted it now, a sign that he was yours and no one else's.

"I like that you want me all to yourself," Jungkook said against your skin, silvery tone humming in your ear. "You have me, you know. I do belong to you."

You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged his head to the side sharply, exposing his neck to you. You pushed the collar of his threadbare shift down, weathered material rendered almost transparent given how many times Jungkook had worn it. You ran your tongue along his skin before nipping at him, giving him a matching mark barely visible if he wore the right shirt tomorrow.

"Satisfied?" He asked, smirking up at you teasingly.

"Not nearly," You replied, widening your legs so that your center pressed more deeply into his lap, "I want you to fuck me now."

"Yes ma'am," Jungkook grinned, already pushing the waistband of his pants down.

masterlist.

[thankskenpenders]

I've been quiet around here lately, so I hadn't reflected on the year yet. 2020 was already a less active year for the blog compared to 2019, in which I plowed through over 150 issues to finally finish the pre-Flynn era. I can't say I expected to return to that breakneck pace in 2021, but I also wasn't expecting to take half the year off and cover even fewer issues with a grand total of 16. (Plus three TKP Addendums, scattered thoughts on new IDW issues, and several lengthy breakdowns on the controversy surrounding the Penders-licensed Scourge comic that was canceled after four days. Remember that? That was in November. Time flies.) Needless to say I fell very short of my goal of reaching Sonic Universe in 2021

I'm a broken record at this point, but this lack of progress is mainly due to me focusing on my actual job: finishing SLARPG, which I recently confirmed is due out this year. 2021 wasn't a particularly productive year for me reading old Sonic comics, but boy howdy I sure did get a lot of my game made in that time. More than any previous year, even, hence me confirming that it's finally gonna be out in 2022. I'm thankful that most of y'all are understanding of my priorities (and/or excited about the game itself, since it's my pride and joy)

Towards the end of the year I also ended up disabling the ask box on this blog for the first time ever. While I do always get many chill and reasonable messages from folks who just wanna joke around or talk about Sonic and related subjects with me, I can't say I miss waking up most days to requests to have proxy debates random Sonic hot takes and repetitive messages about Sega mandates and questions about how Penders can possibly own [insert character here] even though the answer always boils down to "they fucking settled it in court and they said he owns it man what do you want me to say," all from anonymous strangers. I love running this blog, but that part gets tiring. It really does. It will be back when I'm back to updating, but I'm still not quite ready for that yet. (For the record, my ask box is still open on my main, but please don't just redirect a billion Sega mandate questions there thanks)

Anyway, here's to me covering more issues in 2022! It's gonna be a big year for Sonic with a new game, movie, AND Netflix cartoon, so that will probably energize me. I gotta at LEAST be able to do 17 issues, right? Right...?

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

I don't think you should take it personally?

Remember it's September now, people are busier from school starting up again (and during the holidays, they might have been busy being at the beach, yaknow?)

And that's just one thing, there's other factors like "people might reblog one thing but not the other posts they saw in a row", so if you post 4 art pieces at once, people might be self-conscious and only reblog one to not spam.

You also don't know people's motives, maybe some like HoV, but others might like birds, so if they see HoV not being a bird they won't care enough to reblog it.

Maybe they like a certain coloring you use, and when it's more sketchy, they're not interested.

Maybe they just like some of your drawings more than others and only reblog their favorites.

Maybe they're not as into Honkai anymore after Part 1 ended so they don't reblog Honkai stuff anymore.

Regarding your joke posts that get more notes specifically, that's a well-known phenomenon, people don't reblog based on your effort but based on how they felt about the art. If it's pretty, they might think "oh, pretty", and not think of it again.

If it's funny and makes them laugh, though? They are a lot more likely show it to their friends who'll laugh too, especially if the context, whether it's reblogging or spreading it via other means, and jokes can often transcend their fandom and spread much wider, too.

Other kinds of art that get this treatment tends to be especially creative concepts like the tuna tail that felt really novel (and also had jokes!)

The amount of notes you get is not a measure of your or your art's inherent value. You do not even get anything from it, at least on tumblr, it's just numbers that do not translate into money or anything like that. At most it might get used by corporations to measure your clout, which is... not a practice I find good but this isn't what this post is about.

Personally? I love getting attention. I love knowing lots of people read my works, hell my memes too, especially if it prompted them to speak about it to their friends or think about something more deeply. I want my stuff to spread! I want it to be popular enough that people talk about it where I can see!

So yeah I know it's easy to feel bitter about your numbers, I've stopped watching ao3 numbers a long time ago because it stressed me out for no reason (I only have comment emails on, which is also why I strongly encourage people to comment on my work, that's the only way I know people cared! I still love attention, I want to talk about my work, I'm just watching my mental health by not caring for the actual numbers...)

It's alright to take pride in getting something popular, but the flip side of that is that when your expectations grow, you feel you're doing "worse" when you're still doing much better than the beginner you used to be.

Looking at the quality of my writing, I've made a lot of progress, and even my most read works are kinda old now. But did you or I get "worse" just coz the recent stuff got less attention? No. We just kept doing our thing, and whether it clicks with the invisible audience isn't up to the effort we put in.

Just gotta keep doing what we love. You draw HoV because you love her right? Not for little numbers.

my content just never gets much attention unless it's a shitpost does it