#the fucking thumbnail is a mood

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[dgaftilwedie]

i am so normal ^___^

[gemharvest]

having to check pico's school gameplay just to be sure i'm not misremembering the sequence of events but then immediately being taken out of my angst mood when i see

[todayisafridaynight]

Honestly I would buy that Jo speedran going gray... I mean, RGGJo did, and he's the youngest dude in the series to other than Takechi, but Takechi's aging and de-aging may as well have been supernatural. Compared to Y7Jo, RGGJo doesn't really even have anything to stress about (that we're aware of) other than Why Isn't Arakawa Chairman Yet lol

BUT YEAH FOR REAL Arakawa was SO ready with the jokes regardless of who crosses that line first, I love him 😭 it really is so special to get to grow old with someone isn't it... I can't think of another yakuza duo who did the same and were in each other's lives the whole time. I just wish Arakawa was able to live out his retirement in peace but Oh Well.....................

Completely unrelated and I know I just caught him mid-sentence here but I simply enjoy this image... I go 😬whenever Aoki is saying some bullshit too king... I feel like Jo's beard shadow is very rarely as apparent as it is in lighting like this too (same for Aoki), so I am noting it down. Uhhh I don't remember where I was going with this have some scruffy Tsutsumis

with only one of the two arakawas to worry about in rggo, it all adds up that only half his hair would become pearl white </3

i have the memory of an avocado but im 90% sure arakawa and jo were the only yakuza to actually live the duration of their lives together.... and that coulda continued if. yk. 👁️👁️ <- pain

HONESTLY for a while i thought tsutsumi wasn't really capable of growing facial hair with how clean his face was in a lot of things (though VERY MUCH evidently that isnt the case: he's just. really good at shaving i guess. or im blind LMAO). in that regard, it's funny/neat that on aoki's model, the stubble along his jaw and chin is a lot more apparent compared to the faint shadow on jo's upper lip

[karinasbaby]

hiii!! what type of porn do u think enha would be into?? this question has literally been plaguing me for the past week

thank u sm for sending this to me my beloved anon ! (⺣◡⺣)♡ here is my personal opinion on what kind of porn the enha hyung line (adding jungwon cuz i love nia) would be into 🤞

𖥻 JAKE i know will be into the nastiest shit known to humanity. but ! at the same time everything really depends on his mood and what he’s feeling. if he’s feeling like he just needs to get one nut out and have a quick orgasm he’ll probably go into the shadiest & easiest porn sites and just click on whatever makes his cock twitch from the thumbnail on the recently uploaded page. and he has range. his gravitation towards these types of videos range from (obv scripted) milfs getting pounded by their step sons or … hear me out. just straight up pussy eating videos. that does it for him tbh. however ! if he does have time and wants to have a whole masturbation session he would probably take his time in searching for the types of videos he’s in the mood for (also ranges from 69 videos, anal videos, sex toys videos, BDSM videos and so on and so forth) but at the end of the day, doesn’t matter if he was here for a quick or long orgasm— it WILL knock him out and he will sleep like a baby :(

honourable mentions ! : fucking machine videos, … sybian, step-cest hentai, pussy eating videos & squirting orgasm compilations (he’s a munch what can i say).

𖥻 HEESEUNG also into the nastiest shit known to human kind. i feel like heeseung has a phase where he hyperfixates on either 3D porn (probably futanari threesomes) or hentai (highschool themed ones maybe? or … infidelity ones ngl). (that phase comes and goes every now and then but it’s there for sure) he also has a thing for step-cest and i feel like lots & lots of bondage videos. i’m talking like porn videos where girls get tied up and fucked with different kinds of toys for hours till they squirt uncontrollably and best believe he’s watching it entirely. heeseung also has a thing for edging himself as it makes his orgasm hit 10 times harder. so he probably has participated in those ‘10 mins do not cum’ challenge videos on random porn sites. i also believe he has a thing for rough fucking videos. going back into the bdsm part he loves watching threesome bdsm videos where there’s a guy fucking a girl while another one is pushing his cock down her throat. also seems like the guy to have a thing for monsterfucking.. anything that involves werewolf, monster or alien x human porn videos just know that he’s already watched it. tentacles hentai is the way to go, 3D alien forced breeding is also one of his favourites (might even have an obsession with facehuggers phase… anyone interested in alien hee?) overall really filthy shit gets him off so well.

honourable mentions ! : has a thing for double penetration videos, gangbangs, lesbian threesomes, sex toy videos, alien breeding & facehuggers.

𖥻 JAY my romantic baby :( this man probably doesn’t even go to porn sites that often (lies) he goes to twitter to his fav nsfw accs & watches the most romantic and loving porn on the internet that it’s not even porn atp it’s just watching two ppl love each other (and being jealous). he’s the type of man that will have a thing for missionary videos because i feel like he watches the type of porn that he, himself can replicate. missionary videos with the guy being so whiny and kissing his girl everywhere is one of his favs, but ! he also does really enjoy watching cowgirl povs.. doesn’t matter if it’s reverse or not, i know an ass man when i see one. see now all of this? applies to my beloved soft boy jay ♡ who takes his time and enjoys his alone pleasure time so nicely and sleeps so contently like a baby after. butttt ! he also does have his own random urges and moments and needs to watch diff types of porn. i see him as the type of guy to stay on twitter still but also go to diff acc w diff kinds of porn in them.. call me crazy but i believe he also has a thing for tying up like heeseung. except this time its obv diff than the bondage on porn sites. he loves loves loves to watch videos of pretty ‘good girls’ getting punished on their daddies lap with their legs and arms tied up. loves to watch how their daddies make them sit on their faces so they can eat their cunts out for hours. also has a thing for full fucking session videos from start to beginning. is fully tuned in from the first few minutes of the make out session or the teasing till the final minute where both of them orgasm. might even be the type to start jerking himself off slowly in the beginning and make himself cum with the ppl on the video to get maximum satisfaction, then goes into a deep slumber cuz he’s been edging himself for a long time.

honourable mentions ! : twt videos that lean heavily towards ddlg content, bj videos, tit play videos (to feed into his lactation kink ! best believe he’s jerking off to a man sucking milky droplets off his girl’s nipples) and doggystyle compilations.

𖥻 SUNGHOON … he’s really into role play videos. idk how to explain this but i feel like he has a massive obsession with role play porn videos that are all scripted. a police officer x criminal porn video where the girl is the criminal and gets cuffed and fucked over the chief’s table just does it for him. his interests also drift towards pet play… has a thing for pet play kind of videos & cute pet like outfits like cat ears :( really has a huge thing for calling a pretty girl kitty it just makes him cum so quickly & so so hard. when the video contains roleplaying and punishment? he’s so gone. give him a video where it’s a professor / teacher x student roleplay porn and his hands will be around his cock in a second. his obsession is so deep rooted he’s willing to go into the sketchiest sites just to find the full versions of the videos he sees that are frustratingly teasers / half way through. he’s also a freak for ‘stuck inside the washing machine’ type shit (so yes to step-cest roleplaying videos). it just adds up in my head tbh cuz it’s freakhoon we’re talking about. bcs of his obsession with roleplaying and pet play… he also sometimes falls down a horny rabbit hole of 3D hentai.. that’s furry porn. he will never admit this but he came so hard to furry / wildlife porn especially when he found werewolf & human porn. best nut of his life the second he saw the knot orgasm. again will never admit this bcs the post nut clarity hit him so hard he didn’t jerk off for five days straight after that. (anyone interested in werewolf hoon? omegaverse hoon?).

honourable mentions ! : also into fucking machine videos, furry breeding videos, roleplaying hentai videos and anal compilations (no i will not elaborate for now.)

𖥻 JUNGWON the only thought that comes into my head when i think about the type of porn that will get won off is tits. doesn’t matter what kind of video he’s watching as long as there’s tit play is involved he’s so gone. loves and adores to watch videos of either boob play & jerking off or missionary with milfs (yes has a huge thing for milfs) where the camera pov is from above and he has the perfect angle of their cunt & tits bouncing. though he might have a thing for tits & female body worship… cock worship gets him off so well. just seeing a girl get so cockdrunk with a guy slapping his leaking dick on the side of her cheek makes him so fucking hard. like jake, jungwon’s porn videos depend on his mood and how he’s feeling like. if he needs a quick nut he’ll go to his favourite website and click on whatever appears for him first cuz he has an acc and the algorithm already knows the kind of filth he watches. (he’s a dedicated consumer, has an acc on every site and might even go as far as to downloading porn site apps & following their twt accs) but if he is looking for a long session where he can take his time then best believe he’s watching a whole homemade movie. loves to watch videos from beginning to end with all different positions and angles and multiple orgasms. also tends to have a thing for following along and experiencing everything in the video. but then again he also strikes me as the guy to also watch tit play compilations… for sure has a lactation kink and lives to get off of boob sucking videos & maybe even adult breastfeeding. either way… everything depends on his mood.

honourable mentions ! : 69 compilations, cowgirl compilations especially ones where the guy starts to suck on the girl’s boobs, pussy fingering orgasm videos, deep throating.

again thank u for sending this ask !! <3

[seraphicsentences]

hii mamas, probably stupid since youve been writing less, but js incase can i req ellie swiping through an album of videos and photos of reader, but then her mood is instantly changed when she swipes to a sx recording thta she completely forgot about? miss youu 😔😔

i’m sorry baby ik i suck ive been reaaall busy lately so i haven’t had much time for writing but! here’s a short one. working through requests slowly but surely. enjoy!

thinking about loser!ellie turning pussy drunk for you, or rather, the thought of you, in seconds. bc when am i not thinking about loser!ellie?

loser!ellie, naturally, never leaves the house. why would she— when she has her savage starlight comics stacked up on her shelf, her xbox hooked up, locked and loaded with a never ending amount of games, and most importantly, you, to come over whenever she pleases.

except for now, unfortunately. you had gone out to see an old friend who was visiting in town, and ellie, trying her very best to be a respectful girlfriend, decided to stay in (against her wishes).

as the pathetic, attached, and adorable loser she was, she had resorted to scrolling through her compiled camera album of you, which you self- titled “the prettiest, coolest, smartest, awesomest girl ever. aka your wife.”

she laughed under her breath, shaking her head fondly at the statement as she continued to swipe through countless candids, selfies, and clips of you. her girl.

she couldn’t help but smile sweetly into the crook of her elbow, head falling sideways into her mussed bed as she relived her favorite moments with you, which was really actually every moment she spent with you.

after skimming through an 8 minute long video of the two of you trying, and failing, to kill a small bug on her bedroom wall, it’s safe to say ellie’s heart was warm, and filled to the brim.

the next video’s thumbnail doesn’t immediately draw up any memories of hers, a blurry view of what seems to be her wall of space posters, so she assumes it to be an accidental recording.

but it’s— 18 minutes long??

curiosity winning her over, ellie clicks on the video, a loading symbol popping up on the screen briefly before sounds of heavy breathing overtake the room.

bedsheets rustle in the background, as ellie watches what appears to be her own hand scrambling at the phone’s lens, propping it up on her bedside table.

the view is what can only be described as filthy. your back arching off the mattress, legs tied to opposite posts on the bed as you writhe, gasping for air as ellie holds a vibrator lush against your clit.

“ah! ellie!” you’re crying out, ankles twisting and pulling at the grasps their in.

present-day ellie’s face glows a deep red, her breathing already picking up as she watches the screen, entranced. her legs come together, squeezing, as she begins to rock her hips down into the bed ever-so-subtly, clit grazing the seam of her pants in reach for the smallest sparks of stimulation.

she had completely forgotten about this video, the post-sex exhaustion wiping it from her memory, but it served as quite the pleasant surprise for her pathetic loser!self now. she flips over onto her back.

heart pumping, she roams her fingers across her navel, dipping under her boxers as she stares at her past self humping greedily on one of your thighs, head thrown back. your hands were gripped on the meat of her hips, pushing her down harder against yourself as she continued to shakily rub the toy over you.

her soft whimpers intermingled with your pleading moans to form an addicting symphony— ellie biting down on her lip as the tip her finger brushes over her pulsing clit.

“ellie, please, need your fingers,” you whine in the current scene.

“you got ‘em,” she hears herself husk out.

ellie groans, her finger twitching down involuntarily to press harder into her needy, puffy clit.

“fuck,” she swears under her breath, head falling back into a pillow as she fucks her hips up harder against her hand. her jaw drops open, head spinning as she pleads for your touch. simply yearning like the fucking loser she is, whimpering your name over and over again as she pants out heavily.

video-ellie has now ditched the vibrator, fucking her fingers messily into your weeping pussy as you raise a hand up to cup her heat.

“gonna let me stuff you up, els?” you ask, half-lidded with a surprisingly cocky smirk for the amount you’re dripping down your thighs.

“please,” ellie cries now, in sync with her recorded whines as she replicates your motions, a halfhearted attempt to relive the eye-rolling experience.

you, or she finally slides two fingers in, curling them impatiently to rub over that one spot that has her whispering, “please mommy.”

the phone falls onto the mattress, filthy sounds still playing in the background as ellie clutches the bedsheets instead, twisting them for dear life. her fingers thrust more rapidly now, sounds of her slick filling the air as she spreads her legs eagle-wide to reach even deeper.

how pathetic she is. this wet from just a video recording? this desperate for your touch? she’s nearing her finish already, beating past-her, which from the sound of it, seems to be getting edged.

her fingers jam harder into her g-spot, little uh-uh-uh’s slipping out from between her lips with the movement. ellie’s other hand scrambles for her thrown phone, dazedly clicking your contact and thumb searching for the audio recording option.

she can’t hold it anymore, legs kicking and squirming as she tries to get her words out.

“m-iss y-you real, real- fuck- bad. mmph please- need you ho-home n-ow, babe, g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” she rambles, her voice getting higher as she gets more lost in the sensations.

her back flies off the bed, hips bucking animalistically as she chants your name loudly, fingers still moving at lightning speed.

“miss you,” she whines quietly now, catching her breath and pouting as she slides her fingers out of her raw pussy, before hitting send with her not cum-coated hand.

yes this was short asf. n what about it? i banged it out in a zoooooom. ;)

[nadvs]

can i request for the swte universe in their college days, reader seems like a perfectionist to me so what if she failed on an exam or she didn't get there in time and she failed her class and she got really upset, feeling terrible about herself, very disappointed and rafe tries to uplift her mood, trying to get her out of her dorm room?🤍🤍🤍

omg yessss i always love your prompts 🥹

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she had a bad feeling about the midterm. sometimes she could tell when she was being too hard on herself, when she was catastrophizing, but she knew she wasn’t exaggerating when she told rafe that her mind went blank during the test and that she’s sure she failed.

now, as she sits in her dorm checking her grade on her laptop the night after, she gets the confirmation.

she texts her boyfriend, just like she did when they were best friends and told each other everything. i was right.

her phone starts buzzing with a phone call.

“you okay?” he says when she picks up. he remembers that her grade was supposed to be posted tonight.

“no,” she says with a defeated laugh.

rafe is with the guys, watching a game at the house. he stands up off the couch, holding his phone to his ear. one of his housemates points to the screen, eyebrow raised, clearly confused why rafe would leave when there’s a minute left in an intense game.

but he ignores him, rounding the corner to pace into the hallway. he leans back against a wall, arm crossed over his chest.

“how bad is it?” he asks.

“so bad that i’m working on an email to my prof to ask if i can retake it or do anything for extra credit,” she says. “i didn’t even pass.”

he can hear the panic in her voice. rafe chews on his thumbnail as he stares down at the floor.

“it’s not over,” he says. he realizes he sounds just like he does when he’s trying to motivate his teammates between periods during a rough game. he rethinks his approach. this isn’t a game. this is his girl. and she’s freaked out about her future.

“baby, it happens,” he says. “everyone fails at some point.”

“this is so bad,” she mumbles. “i’m so stupid.”

he grimaces. they’re basically the same person. he knows how much pressure she puts on herself. sometimes, he’s almost certain that she thinks she has to be perfect to be worth something, just like he does.

“where are you?” he asks.

“home.” her inhale is shaky. “i shouldn’t have stayed up late studying so much. i thought it’d be better to learn what i could, but running on barely any sleep must’ve messed me up.”

“send the email,” he says. “and be ready in half an hour, okay?”

she’s quiet for a moment.

“why?”

“because i know you’re gonna sit in your room all night, beating yourself up, thinking about what you should’ve done and there’s no point to any of it,” he says. “just be ready, alright?”

moments like these, she’s glad her boyfriend is so bossy and decisive. her head is such a mess right now, somehow feeling both chaotic and blank at the same time.

rafe texts when he arrives. when she settles in his passenger seat, he can see that she’s been crying. he shuts off his music and gently pulls her in, his palm at the back of her neck, so that she’ll nuzzle into his chest.

it’s his go-to move when she’s upset. it always works. after crying against him for a moment, her breaths start to even out.

he kisses her forehead, his hand running up and down her back. he hates this feeling, when she’s so stressed out and he’s utterly powerless.

“you’re not stupid,” he mumbles against her hair.

“i am. i’m so disappointed in myself,” she says, her voice brittle. “how could i fuck up this bad?”

he frowns. he knows her well enough by now. sometimes she needs tough love. sometimes it’s the only thing that’ll pull her out of her haze.

“it happened,” he says. he pulls back just enough so she can look up at him. “can you change that it happened?”

“no.”

“is calling yourself stupid going to fix it?”

“no.”

“that’s my girl you’re talking to,” he says, his blue eyes sweeping over her face in worry. “my girl isn’t stupid.”

her lips twist in sorrow, but she nods, eyelids fluttering. she spirals sometimes. she can tell she’s doing it right now.

rafe’s hand rests on her damp cheek, rubbing his thumb over her skin.

“you anxious?” he asks.

“very,” she replies.

so, he decides to see if his most effective way of cooling down when he’s wired will help her.

he pulls into a lot by an outdoor court he always sees on his drive to her campus and takes the basketball out of his trunk when he parks.

“this is kind of unfair,” she says lightheartedly when she gets out of his car into the cool night air. “no chance i’m winning a one-on-one against you.”

“we’re just shooting hoops,” he says, putting an arm around her as he holds the ball to his chest.

the court is empty and quiet and dimly lit. they stand below one of the nets, bouncing the ball back and forth between each other.

“what if i fail the course?” she says.

“you won’t.”

“but if i do?”

“if you do, you’ll survive,” rafe replies. “you think some class can take you down?”

she breathes a chuckle. when she gets the ball back, she holds it, standing across from him, staring. all they ever are with each other is honest. it’s how it’s always been.

“i’m scared,” she admits. “i’m scared this will throw off my timing and i won’t graduate when i want to.”

“baby, there’s no way that’s happening,” he says confidently. “one bad grade won’t do that.”

“you seem so sure,” she states. she bounces the ball back to him.

“here. if i make this, it means you’ll fail the course.”

he takes the ball in both hands, holds it over his head, and throws it so it hits the rim hard, making the whole backboard shake as the ball goes flying down the court.

“i think that was rigged,” she says, the ache in her chest loosening as she laughs.

“we’ll never know,” rafe half-shouts as he runs to pick up the ball. he bounces it back to her.

she dribbles it a few times, squaring up with the net, and launches the ball in the air. it falls in the net.

“nice,” he breathes. “don’t let my coach see you. he’ll replace me.”

she turns to look at him, mirroring his smile.

“you’re laying it on a little thick, cameron,” she teases. she’s touched that he’s being so sweet just to cheer her up.

“just telling it like it is,” he says. he passes the ball to her again. “let’s see how you do with some defense.”

he steps between her and the net, a hard wall against her. his hands find her hips as she tries to line up with the net, his big frame moving with her.

“i’m pretty sure that’s a technical foul,” she says. “you can’t touch me like that.”

“nah, that’s not a rule.”

“you can’t just decide that,” she laughs.

“such a tight-ass,” he scoffs with a smirk, taking his hands off her hips and cradling her face. “how about this? this allowed?”

she giggles, holding the ball in one hand and hooking the other around his neck to pull him closer. their lips touch tenderly, both of them expelling a quiet sigh of contentment under the kiss.

she pulls back. he’s too busy staring at her in awe to block her from making another shot.

“your defense sucks,” she teases. rafe puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage.

“now you’re trash-talking?” he says. she watches him pick up the ball. he makes it look so effortless, the net swishing as the ball whizzes through it.

she’s seen him on the court so many times before, but she never tires of the sight, always so struck by how skilled he is.

they play for another twenty minutes, talking and taking turns shooting hoops, until she finally feels too tired to keep going. and she realizes she hasn’t thought about her failed midterm the entire time.

“thank you,” she says as they settle in his car. “i feel better. sweaty, but better.”

“it always works. just gotta burn your energy on something else so you can’t use it stressing out.”

“smart,” she says. “i’ll keep that in mind when i take your spot on the team.”

“i’m not so sure about that anymore,” he says. “you take fucking forever to throw. you’d run out the shot clock every time.”

she laughs, thinking about how many times in the last twenty minutes she kept the ball in her hands while she got lost in conversation with him.

she playfully shoves him, but he takes her hand and pulls her in, meeting her in a slow kiss.

“listen, i don’t want to hear the word stupid come out of your mouth again,” he mumbles. “not when you’re talking about yourself. i’m serious.”

she looks down at her lap, exhaling slowly. she knows he’s right. there’s no reason for her to bully herself so mercilessly.

“okay.”

“and please, baby,” he says solemnly, his tone deep as if he’s about to say something serious, “throw the ball faster next time.”

“i hate you,” she laughs, shoving him again. he smirks at her, putting the car in drive.

rafe has felt proud of himself a few times in his life, mostly with his athletic achievements, but he thinks that hearing her laugh, knowing he’s the one who made her feel better, is the proudest he’s ever felt.

[itiswormtimebaby]

Fifth Date

Bucky and Bug’s fifth date takes an unexpected turn (alternatively: Bucky isn’t sure he’s good at dating but knows he’s good at sex so he tries to play to his strengths).

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized reader) CW: Thigh riding, risk of getting caught, dirty talk, hints of praise kink, past toxic relationships, mild angst, Bucky and Bug bond over their love of food (he’s not a feeder but he does keep you fed)

Bucky absentmindedly digs his thumbnail into the worn wood of the picnic table, working at a knot in its surface as he tries his best to gauge whether or not he’s upset you. At face value you seem fine, excited even, as you’d managed to snag a lavender oat milk ice-cream; that’s what held your attention now, well, the dripping cone and the excess amount of dogs being led around the food-truck-lined garden. But despite your oohing and ahhing over the creamy treat and the furry friends he couldn’t help the niggle of worry in his stomach. Fucking flowers. He forgot the fucking flowers. Every other date he’d shown up right on time, if not a little early, with fresh flowers. Today his shift at the garage had run long and he’d hardly had time to scrub his hands clean and comb his hair, let alone get flowers, before rushing to pick you up, barely on time and empty-fucking-handed. Given the time between this date and the last surely the others were already shriveled up, he was supposed to be showing you how good a boyfriend he would be and he couldn’t even- 

“-ucky? Buck?” 

He was wrangled from his thoughts by the soft call of his name and a sudden jolt of pain as his thumb caught on a sliver of wood. There was now a furrow in your brow, lips down turned as you observed him; damnit, if the flowers hadn’t messed things up this inattentiveness surely would. “Are you alright?”

Idly reaching for your fingers not wrapped around the ice cream cone he nodded his head, “Course I am. How’s that?” Instead of answering you held the treat out for him but he shook his head, “Nah, Bug, I’d rather taste it on your lips.” And despite the small burn of embarrassment it caused, you leaned across the table, indulging him as he licked into your mouth, sticky and sweet. Bucky was relieved that you seemed happier after the kiss, he was good at that, if nothing else he could keep you physically sated. There was a time he was confident in his abilities to be good at the other stuff as well, at least he thought he was, but his last serious partner made it clear that while he was a great fuck he was a shitty boyfriend, a “sorry ass loser” to be exact, it’s what he feared you would eventually see. 

“Alright Buckaroo, you are way too in your head right now, let’s go!” Bucky went to protest before realizing you weren’t calling for an early end to the date, instead you were tugging him towards the food trucks you hadn’t yet explored. “We are dividing and conquering, I’ll grab the samosas, you’ve got the vegan corn dog truck, and we’ll rally back by the loaded waffle fries. Got it?” You didn’t bother waiting for a response as you took off, forcing him to chase after you to press cash into your palm, waving off any protests as he pinned you with a stern stare; “It’s a date, Bug, I pay. Got it?” He echoed your words back to you, but unlike you he was waiting for a response, the arch of his brow leaving no room for protest; “Got it.” 

+ + + + + + + + +  + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You were pleased to see Bucky relax into the date, despite his earlier assurance that nothing was bothering him you knew better, as if you couldn’t read his moods after thirteen-some-odd-years, no, he wasn’t fooling you for a second. You were willing to wager it had something to do with work, judging by his hurried arrival and quick apologies when he picked you up, though there was always the smallest chance it had to do with club business. Despite your brother’s prominent role you tried to steer clear of that, though you would make an exception if talking about it would help Bucky. As it were he seemed considerably cheered up, happily sharing bites of the small feast you’d managed to amass, practically moaning at each new flavor that burst across his tongue (though he made sure to remind you that you were the best thing he ever tasted as he lapped powdered sugar off two of his fingers- conveniently the same two fingers that he had up your skirt on your last date). 

Beyond stuffed you wave away his offer for more, something warm bursting in your chest as he offhandedly remarks something about keeping his lady fed, choosing to ignore the latter part wherein he adds a no edibles disclaimer. Is that what you are, his lady? It certainly seems like it the more dates you go on, though no official titles have been given. In some way or another you’ve felt like his for a long time, it was almost scary to face the reality of what you two could be. 

Bucky could tell you were mulling something over, the tip of your tongue poking through your lips a dead give away, you’d had the same tell since childhood and he knew if he reached over and peeled apart your lips you’d be lightly biting down on the pink organ. He felt the same sharp doubt as earlier re-emerge at how quiet you’d gone, but no, you’d been having a good time he was sure of it, and he could recover from his earlier faux paus. Instead he distracted himself with the image of you, the denim of your shorts riding up between the thick meat of your thighs, nearly disappearing at the apex, the button on them now pressing tighter against the ample swell of your stomach than it had earlier, a happy sign that you’d eaten well, the soft material of your crop top inching dangerously up-up-up at each little shift you made. A man of his whims Bucky reached out, softly tracing the tip of his index finger up a spidering stretch mark, from the waistband of your shorts to wear it disappeared just beyond the hem of your top, he allowed his finger to venture just underneath it, searching, almost positive you didn’t have a bra on, desperate to find out. Desperate to trace that same mark with his tongue. Fuck you were beautiful. The soft hitch of your breath had him abruptly on his feet, gathering up trash with one hand while the other reached for you; “Let’s go for a walk, Bug.” 

+ + + + + + + + +  + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

He led you to a secluded area, a seemingly forgotten bench at the end of an overgrown path, surrounded by trees and wild bushes.There was extra security in knowing that the live music had just kicked up at the other end of the park, drawing much of the crowd towards the small stage but still your heart fluttered nervously, somehow knowing Bucky’s intentions were less than pure; he wasn’t just looking for a quiet place to talk. 

Bucky sat first, guiding you to sit astride one of his thighs, back facing him. Whatever small ping of worry surfaced in your brain about being too heavy died before it could fully form, senses overrun by the rough feeling of his black denim jeans on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the cool kiss of his prosthetic hand finding purchase on the naked flesh of your waist. This is the part I’m good at, he thought, the part where I impress her, where I shine. He didn’t say anything, just began rocking his leg back and forth until your back arched, signaling he had found your sweet spot, focusing his attention on staying there. You were desperate not to make noise, biting down on your lip as Bucky’s thigh pressed the thick seam of your shorts up into you, the pressure on your clit causing pleasure to spark hot in your groin. Wrapping the hand not anchored to your waist around your throat he forced you to lean your head back against his shoulder, using the open access to run his tongue across the hyper sensitive skin, suckling, marking, claiming. It went on and on, the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s thigh as he continued his assault on your clit and throat, his own arousal at the situation apparent by the thick swell of his cock pressed into your back. 

Despite your best efforts to keep quiet Bucky could tell you were getting close, stopping just when you appeared to be on the precipice of pleasure; “Fuck, Bug, you want it?” 

Ignoring the question, or perhaps too focused on your pleasure to truly hear it, you pick up where Bucky left off, slowly gliding your denim covered cunt across his thigh. Rocking side to side to catch the seam just right. Close, so close, pleasure taught in your groin, ready to explode outward, ready to- 

Bucky let’s out a long drawn out fuck, worried for a second he’s going to bust in his jeans as your ass backs up into him, practically slamming into his cock as your previously controlled rocking motion loses rhythm and gives way to frantic humping. Bucky slips two of his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in an effort to quiet you; “That’s it, Baby, use my thigh, fuck yourself on my thigh, good gi-” His praise is lost in the wake of your pleasure, thighs clamping impossibly tight against his own as frantic motion mellows to soft subconscious rocking. You suckle at the salty skin of his fingers, the intensity of your orgasm leaving you soft and pliable in his lap, sleepy even.

Bucky manages not to lose it in his pants, but just barely, nuzzling at the crown of your head he feels pride- yeah, he’s good at this, he can keep you around with this.

AN: For more Bucky and Bug visit THE WORM HOLE

[adnauseum11]

Listening Post (John Price x Reader)

John goes M.I.A, and all is not as it seems at first.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome!

You’re starting to get worried. It’s out of character for John to ignore you. Even when he was still on active duty, he would tell you if he was going to be in the field. He’d never compromise himself with any details but he’d at least let you know he was away. And he always let you know when he was back on grid, his simple ‘back here’ text enough to reassure you that he had made it home once again. You stand in your kitchen, gnawing a thumbnail and obsessively looking at your phone. 

He wasn’t in the field any more, and he shouldn't be away, you had plans to do Trivia Thursday night this week at the pub. He would have told you if he had left town. If you weren’t dating the wretched man, you would send him a text about being a miserable bastard and try him again the next day to see if his mood had improved. 

You scroll back in your texts, checking the timestamps. He’s never let a text go unanswered all day before. What kind of trouble could an ex-SAS Captain possibly get in to? He can take care of himself. Surely, he’s fine. He’s been in his share of fights. If the cops had picked him up for something, you would have got wind of it, you’re certain. You’re trying to convince yourself to remain calm, annoyingly something that’s normally John’s job between the two of you. 

You realize you’re going to spend the evening standing in the kitchen, agonizing in silence, so you resolve to sort the situation out one way or another. You pull on your jacket, thumbing through your phone to a ride share app. You find yourself in front of John’s flat less than 20 minutes later. His car is there, and instead of making you feel better you get a sinking sensation in your stomach. At least if he was away, you could tell yourself he was busy. Now it looks like he’s just dodging you. 

You let yourself in using the key he gave you years ago, knocking gently and calling for him. Nothing. No signs of life in the kitchen or living room. His neat flat looks immaculate. You’re heading down the hall when you hear low groaning. A flame of anger licks at your belly and you have to keep yourself from stomping the rest of the way down the hall. 

If he’s cheating on you before you’ve even had sex, you’re going to string him up by his balls. If you have to pay to find someone who knows how to do that, you will. It will be worth it – 

By the time you clear the doorway, you’ve convinced yourself of what you’re going to find. Even brace for it, your face screwed up into a wince. So, when it’s just John, sweating buckets and groaning in pain in the middle of his bed it takes you a full ten seconds to reboot your brain.

“What’s wrong?” You’re leaning over him, not bothering with pleasantries or admonishments now, running your hands over his face and chest with anxious movements. You’re instinctively looking for a wound of some sort before you can process your own actions. He squints at you, grabbing your hands and covering his eyes with your palms, curling towards you.

“My fucking head. Holy shit.” His voice is like gravel, and you wonder how long he’s been like this if he’s openly admitting to what ails him. You’re crawling into the bed, moving on autopilot despite never having seen him like this. John’s misery does not like company, thanks very much. But it seems those old rules of engagement for you both are shifting. You’re pillowing his head on your thighs, curling over him protectively and making sympathetic noises softly. As relieved as you are he’s not up to anything nefarious, guilt at it being a thought at all is hot on its heels.  

“A migraine?” 

He confirms with the tiniest tilt of his head, pressing his cheek into your thigh while you gently cup his forehead. He’s burning hot, sweaty to the touch. You’re stroking a palm over his hair slowly, easing him off your lap so you can run around his flat, gathering anything you can think of that might help - ice water in a bowl with a facecloth, a bottle of water, fruit from the bowl in his kitchen. He’s groaning again by the time you get back and arrange everything on his bedside table. 

You spend the rest of the night playing nurse, finally able to get more information out of the miserable man on what might make him feel better. The cool cloth helps, as does the darkness and gently stroking his scalp. You’re able to get him to lightly doze after a few hours of concentrated efforts. Grateful for the small stash of clothes and essentials John insisted you bring over a few days prior, you keep one eye on your sleeping patient while you change into pajamas. The thought of leaving him alone like this makes your stomach drop and your skin crawl, as does the slow realization he’s likely been dealing with these episodes alone for some time. 

You manage to crawl back into bed without disturbing him, resuming your slow stroking passes over his scalp. Your insides are wobbling dangerously, like you might fall into a heaving cry at any moment. You’re supremely grateful when exhaustion takes over, silencing any and all thoughts. 

Next Chapter

[murderofravens]

Nice Guy | yuuji itadori

yuuji itadori x fem reader

warnings: sexual imagery but no explicit smut, slight stalking, yandere tendencies, non consensual pictures, masturbation, no y/n used.

Yuuji is a nice guy.

That's what you tell yourself when you find his phone unlocked, sitting on your bed while he goes to get cleaned up in your washroom. He just came to your dorm after another mission— sweaty and tired. It's become a norm for him— he returns after a tiring mission, and you offer him words of comfort and support like the good best friend you are. You don't know what to think now, though, about the image your eyes are set on.

Yuuji is a nice guy, so him having a picture of you, lips parted, drooling innocently onto the sheets while you sleep as his lockscreen probably means nothing. He probably thought it was cute, and set it as his lockscreen solely because well, you're his best friend, and it doesn't matter.

Yuuji is a nice guy, you repeat in your head as you pick up the phone with curious eyes, checking the locked door of the bathroom, the faint sound of the shower running offering you temporary relief, before clicking on the gallery icon. Surely, that is the only vulnerable picture of you he has, right? Yuuji is a nice guy. That must be the only picture he has of you sleeping, right? You can't even remember when he took it. You've never fallen asleep after inviting him in. Not even a nap— you don't trust boys all that much, no matter how close you are.

Your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat as you see another picture of you as the thumbnail of a locked folder. You swallow the lump in your throat, eyebrows furrowing with confusion as you think, fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing in your birthday, as if that means anything. But surprisingly, the folder unlocks— and your heart rate picks up as the screen loads with multiple pictures of you.

Yuuji is a nice guy.

Then why the fuck does he have pictures of you undressing?

Stolen, low quality pictures taken through a peek in your door, through the cracks in your window, of you in different states of undress. Zoomed in pictures of your ass. You can see your pussy in one of them. Pictures of you asleep, with your t-shirt messily pulled to your chin to reveal your tits. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to silence the choked sob threatening to escape when your eyes land on a picture of his cum all over your stomach. When did he get into your dorm while you slept? You always made sure to keep your room locked.

Yuuji is a nice guy. He holds doors open for you, brings you snacks when you're on your period, he drags you along to the movies when you're in a bad mood and never lets you pay when you two hang out. He's there after every bad date, running his fingers through your hair and telling you that you deserve better. With his big brown eyes, his innocent smile, offering you words of comfort and support whenever you feel low. Making you laugh with his horrible jokes. He's been a good friend through and through.

Then why does he have a video of himself jerking off with your panties on his phone?

You feel bile rise up your throat, but you swallow it down, clicking on one of the videos, and lower the volume as you watch. His cock is big and thick, girthy and darker than the rest of him, shining with precum as he desperately strokes it with one of your nude cotton panties. You remember tossing it in your laundry stash, and you remember looking for it when it surprisingly disappeared from the basket. You can hear the soft, wet sounds of him whimpering and grunting just slightly. It makes your stomach twist.

You should toss the phone across the wall, kick it till it breaks, you should drag him out of the bathroom and kick him out. You want to scream at him, throw whatever object you can get your hands on at him, and yell and confront him. How could he do this to you?

You clutch the phone harder with shaky hands, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, unable to look away from the screen, your breathing heavy.

You thought Yuuji was a nice guy.

Soon, the constant sound of the shower running stops, and the door clicks open. You're frozen in place, bottom lip wobbling with feelings of fear and betrayal, and you flinch when you hear his voice, no longer tinged with the bright cheerfulness he always carried.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

[lemmetreatya]

📱Come Correct📱

“and so i told her that if she really wanted to continue playing these games with me then—wait, who’s that behind you?” 

as your words are quickly cut short, you bend your phone backwards so that your front camera no longer showed your head within the thumbnail on your boyfriend’s screen. 

“huh?” 

onyankopon has to momentarily look away from his game and glare down at his device before he realises that there’s now an additional head behind him. shrugging, he looks back up at the tv screen. 

“oh. it’s just eren.” 

having not intending to be in camera view but hearing his name, eren leans forwards over onyankopon’s shoulders to make himself more prominent on your screen. 

“hey mamas!” he says with a coy voice. 

you drone out a soft “hey, ren” at the nickname — knowing that that’s what he usually called you — but as soon as the words leave his mouth, onyankopon’s hooking one of his shoulders into eren’s stomach. 

“dude, don’t fucking call her that.” 

onyankopon wasn’t one to get unnecessarily annoyed at petty stuff, being one of the most level headed men you knew. so you could only imagine both your surprises at his outburst, and why eren’s voice rose an octave in defence. 

“bro, what the fuck? why?! ive been calling her that near forever and you say it all the time!” 

despite his eyes still trained on the video game, the scowl on onyankopon’s face is evident. as he proceeds to slump further into the couch, he spreads his legs apart. 

“yeah, coz im allowed to say it. she’s my baby, the fuck? she aint your girl for you to be calling her that.”

hearing the man claim you that way churned some sort of inexplicable possessiveness made your chest swell with heat. what was even more daring was how eren’s voice suddenly cooled down to a whisper. 

“wait, you two a thing now?” he stresses underneath his breath. “like a thing thing?”

you could practically feel the mood on the other side of the phone shift as both men’s voices lowered between each other. you hear a gruff sound come from onyankopon’s throat alongside shuffling as his arm covered the camera. 

“bro, i told you this already. we been official. almost two months now.” 

there’s further inaudible conversation going on, most likely onyankopon berating eren for showing him up in front of you. however, you find that you can’t help but view the situation as amusing. 

“okay, okay! shit, my bad. congrats i guess.” eren finally submits. 

onyankopon’s removed his arm from the camera and you can just about hear eren mumble off in the background but not before an unclassy laugh leaves your throat. 

onyankopon’s face is back in view as he looks over his phone. 

“what’s so funny?” 

shaking your head, you pop your face back into screen. 

“nothing, baby. dont worry about it.”

[transhuman-priestess]

The follow-up to The New Flesh. Read that one first!

15 months prior to the raid on the Blair Mountain, Captain Terry Holder butts heads with her Chief Engineer as an unknown threat bears down on their ship.

This story does not contain sexual themes, however it is part of a larger work which does, therefore, this story is only for consumption by legal adults over the age of 18. It includes moderate violence, and coarse language.

January 14, 2253 1041 Earth UTC

15 months prior to the raid on the Blair Mountain

The Hildas, 550 Million Kilometers from Jupiter

“Chester, how long do you think we’re going to be stuck here?” Captain Terry Holder asked.

She and her first mate, Chester Silvera, were sitting in the mess hall of the Huntington. The ore hauler had been coasting .9 AU from 153 Hilda for 56 hours with a damaged ablator in her #2 main engine. Holder was growing restless.

Silvera, on the other hand, was in a fine mood. “Why are you so eager to get back to port?” He was downing his third slice of pizza since taking a seat 10 minutes ago. Holder couldn’t understand where his appetite came from.

“It’s creepy out here,” she said, “The nearest station is 6 days away. It takes 10 minutes for someone to even hear a distress signal. There’s nothing outside the hull. We’re alone.”

“Captain,” Silvera replied, smirking “You are aware that you can, in point of fact, choose a different occupation than deep space captain, correct?”

“Shut up,” Holder said, smiling. “You know what I mean.” She leaned back in her chair. She’d barely touched the chicken Parmesan she’d gotten from the replicator.

“You’ve been out here for 15 years, Terry,” Silvera said, slipping effortlessly into confidant mode, “You’ve been a captain for 8. You’re used to this. What’s different now?”

Holder sighed. Chester, as always, knew how to get to the heart of the matter. She sat for a moment, not wanting to say it out loud, but knowing she couldn’t hide it from her friend and crewmate. Finally, she said, “It’s Powell.”

“The engineer?” Silvera seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” said Holder, her hand idly falling to the nickel-plated pistol she wore on her hip, “I don’t like her attitude.” She rubbed her thumb on the hammer, feeling the familiar knurling, catching her thumbnail on a well-worn burr.

“You seem to get along with her just fine.” His pizza lay forgotten on the plate, he was all business now.

“Well, that’s what they pay me for, Chester.” She took a bite of chicken to buy some time before continuing, “She’s arrogant, inflexible, obsessed with rules and procedure.” She tossed her fork to the table. Chester scooted back slightly, sensing one of his captain’s moods coming on. Holder stood and began pacing.

“It’s always ‘SOP says this!’ or ‘The tech manual says that!’ always coming up with excuses why something can’t be done, except when it’s something she wants done, then procedure flies out the fucking door!” She ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

“Terry-”

“We’ve been coasting for two and a half days.”

“Terry is-”

“She told me that she has to strip the bell down to the cooling tubes for fuck’s sake.”

“TERRY!” Silvera banged his hand on the table for emphasis. Holder stopped talking.

“Yeah, Chester?”

“This is about the pistol, isn’t it?”

Holder rolled her eyes, “No, it’s not about the fucking pistol.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

The engraved, nickel-plated .45 was a family heirloom. Captains in the Civil Navy were allowed sidearms for ceremonial purposes, but they weren’t supposed to wear them outside of certain occasions. Of course, in deep space, the captain had more or less free reign, barring mutiny, and Terry liked the feeling of the heavy steel on her hip. She didn’t keep it loaded, though she did keep 2 magazines of hollow-points on her belt.

She’d never had to draw it in anger, though there had been a few close calls with pirates where she’d gone as far as to carry it cocked and locked. But that was on her old ship, the Joachimstahl.

This was her first sortie in command of the Huntington. She’d inherited the ship from a retiring captain, Jack Thorton, and the crew along with it, including the old engineer, who immediately took issue with Terry’s habit of wearing the piece. She’d actually pulled Chester aside to complain about it. It pissed Terry off.

Chester smiled gently. “Terry, I’ve known you five years. I’ve been your right hand for two. You need to get over this grudge.”

“She’s a little shit, Chester.”

“She is a fine engineer. Captain Thorton had nothing but praise for her. Has she ever disobeyed an order?”

“No, but-”

“Has she ever put the crew in danger?”

“No, but-”

“Then you need to drop this little grudge, and you know that.”

Terry was about to argue when her the radio on her belt chirped.

“Captain,” the voice of Jill Cambell, her radar navigator, “There’s something weird on the scope here.”

Terry keyed to reply “What do you mean by weird?”

“I mean I’ve never seen anything move this fast. You better get up here.”

“Be there in a minute.”

***

Captain Holder and First Mate Silvera walked onto the bridge of the Huntington. The radar station was the only one currently occupied. Campbell turned to them as they walked through the door.

“Alright, Jill,” said Terry, “What’s cracking?”

“About 20 minutes ago I got an off radar return about an AU out on the long-range band.” Campbell reported, “No exhaust signature, and it was redshifting so much I thought the scope might be broken.”

“And?”

“It’s not.” Campbell said, tossing a hand in the air. “I switched to the secondary dish. Same cross-section. Same redshift. Hit it with the high-rez, same cross section, same redshift. Whatever it is, it’s at least 50 meters long and it’s moving at O.1C.”

“So send a message to SETI’s Europa Division.” Terry was amazed but couldn’t understand why Campbell had called her to the bridge for this, “I mean, that’s incredible, really, it is, but if they’re moving away from us what’s the rush?

“Well,” Campbell seemed nervous, “Now they’re blueshifting.”

“Bullshit,” Holder dropped the word like a bag of bricks, “How is that possible? Even if something could put out that much delta-v, in that short a span, the g forces of changing direction would rip it to pieces.”

“I don’t know how, Captain,” Campbell said, turning back to the scope. “But I’d really like to have a plan when they get here.

***

“Fucking Christ, whose god damn idea was this?” Chief Engineer Genevieve Powell cursed to herself.

“Sorry Chief,” Engineer’s Mate Karl Miller said over the radio, “I uh, didn’t copy that.”

“Whoever designed the Shinkolobwe-class engine is either a sadist, an idiot, or both.” Powell replied, “This engine is pissing me off.”

She was nearing the end of a 4-hour long EVA replacing a cracked ablator panel right in the throat of the massive 10-meter fusion rocket. When the engines were active, the reactors would vent hot plasma out the back at temperatures approaching that of the surface of the sun, sending the ship moving in the opposite direction and accelerating it to a top speed of 20 million kilometers per hour.

But right now, they weren’t doing anything of the sort. The ablator shield, a layer of boronated plastic 4 meters thick meant to both protect the engine bells from melting and absorb excess neutrons, was cracked, right in the throat. With the ablator shield damaged, the plume coming out of the rocket engine wouldn’t be smooth and even, but roiling with turbulence. Turbulence that would, at best, drop the propulsive efficiency enough to put serious differential stresses on the spaceframe. At worst, it would impinge on the hull, or through to the engine bell, either way burning through and destroying the ship.

Which was why Powell had been awake for 40 hours. Why she and the engineering team had been working in shifts to painstakingly repair the panel. Angle grinders, caulk guns full of boron paste, a portable X-ray unit, and lots and lots of elbow grease.

“Miller,” Powell said, wiping her cheek on the inside of her helmet. “You ever wonder whose brilliant fucking idea was it to use ablative shielding instead of magnetic on a 100-giganewton fusion engine?”

“Can’t say I have,” Miller replied, “You’re gonna have to take that up with Tycho Shipbuilding. Captain wants to know your ETA.”

“God dammit,” The Captain was pissing Powell off. No respect for the work involved in keeping nuclear fusion going without blowing the whole ship to hell, or bombarding the crew with fast neutrons, or turning them all into sludge with 100g burns. “Is this about me not using the tether?” The umbilical tether was supposed to be worn whenever the EVA thruster pack was in use, as a backup, in case the thrusters failed. Powell hated the damn thing. It got in the way and the thruster pack was reliable enough she didn’t need it.

“Uh, I don’t think so, Chief.”

“It’ll be done when it’s fucking done. I’ve got another 3 meters of length on this bitch of a crack. It goes 45 centimeters deep. It’s going to take at least another 10 hours to fill that.”

There was a pause as Miller relayed this to the captain, then, “Uh, Chief,” Miller said, nervously, “Captain says you have an hour.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN? Put her on, now.”

“She says there’s some kind of pirates bearing in on us in 60 minutes.”

Powell rolled her eyes, “That’s not possible. There wasn’t anything within 4 AU of us when I came out here. Tell her I’m not doing anything without talking to her first.”

A brief pause on Miller’s end, then, “Have it your way.”

Powell continued grinding at the crack for a moment. Then Holder’s voice came on. “Powell, I know we don’t get along,” that was an understatement, Powell thought, “But Campbell confirmed this thing is moving at one-tenth c, heading directly towards us. It’s crossed 20 million clicks since she started tracking it. It actually reversed direction to come this way. I know it sounds like bullshit, but I need you to get whatever you can filled and get back into the airlock. I sent out a distress signal but I won’t hear back from Hilda station for at least another 2 minutes”

“Captain, you can’t just rush something like this!” Powell protested, “The differential forces alo-”

Holder cut her off, “I’m aware of the structural ramifications. It’s my ship and that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Captain,” Powell said, “how are we going to outrun something a hundred times faster than us?”

“We’re not. But I’ll need the engines. Trust me.”

Powell gritted her teeth. She couldn’t stand Holder, but Campbell was good. She and Powell had served together under Thorton, and Campbell had helped Powell develop a couple of scanning tools for the engines that worked a hell of a lot better than stock equipment.

“If Campbell’s sure then. I can maybe get you 10 cm of depth along the rest of the crack. It won’t be good for the full trip back to Europa but I should be able to get you enough dV to get us on our way before I have to come back here and fix it again.”

Holder thought for a moment, then replied, “Make it so, Jenna.”

“Aye captain.”

For the next 45 minutes, Powell broke rule after rule for ablator repair. Instead of x-raying the crack she ground it down to 15 centimeters visually. She filled it in with ablator paste and smoothed it by hand before it had cured instead of sanding it once it was dry. By the end of the ordeal, she had used 100 kilos of ablator paste, far less than the 700 the job properly needed. She looked out at a nearby asteroid as they drifted past, and said into her mic, “Miller?”

“Chief?” came Miller’s soft voice through the headset. Powell saw a glint of something off by the big rock in space.

“Tell the captain I’m climbing out. I’ll be at the airlock in 5-” Powell was cut off by a squeel of static and a flash of bright light from the dorsal side of the ship. The shock jolted the Huntington and knocked Powell against the inside of the engine bell. She felt her shoulder crack. The screeching of static faded but was replaced by her own cries of agony. She was floating out towards the center of the nozzle, she couldn’t move her fingers to control the maneuvering pack.

Another flash and another impact jolted the ship vertically. Static filled Powell’s ears as she bounced into the bottom of the engine bell and then up, out into the vast expanse of space.

***

“Owens, damage report,” Holder barked.

Iris Owens responded, “Two detonations in the 2 kiloton range, a kilometer dorsal of us. Numbers 5 and 6 radiators showing a pressure drop. The rest are showing overheat but coming down.”

It had been an ambush. Holder didn’t know how it happened, but it couldn’t have been anything else. Somehow the two ships, 10 light-minutes away from each other, had coordinated. While the Huntington had been busy worrying about the distant ship, another had been hiding behind a nearby asteroid.

There wasn’t time to think about it though, “Miller,” Holder barked, “Pitch us up 115 degrees, roll 45 starboard.”

“Pitch up 115, roll 45 starboard.”

“Powell, what’s your status?”

***

Powell couldn’t move her right arm. The impact had shattered her shoulder blade and humerus. Her RCS system was giving her a warning that one of the quads had malfunctioned. Even if she’d been able to move the translation control, it wouldn’t have done any good.

I’m going to die out here, she realized.

Flashes of warm yellow-white light appeared behind her. The hypergolic RCS system was pitching the ship up, rolling it to the right. She watched as the huge ship seemed to breech like a whale, then pirouette. Over her radio she heard the captain’s voice, “Powell, what’s your status.”

“I’m alive!” she’d never been so happy to hear Terry Holder’s stupid fucking voice, “I’m alive but I can’t get back to the airlock! My thrusters are damaged and my shoulder’s broken.”

“Powell?” came the captain’s voice again, “Powell can you read me?”

“I can read you,” Powell shouted, tearing up from pain, or maybe from fear, “I can read you! Please respond.”

She realized that Holder couldn’t hear her. The wire for the microphone must have been damaged by the impact that broke her shoulder.

She was alone out here.

***

“Miller,” Holder said, “What’s Powell’s biomed say.”

Miller turned red in the face and stammered, “Uhhh,”

“Miller I do not have time for this, what’s her biomed say?”

“She isn’t wearing it.”

“What​?”

“She said she didn’t have time to put it on.”

“Retract her tether.”

“She’s not wearing that either.”

Holder felt ice creep down her spine. The whole scene seemed to go quiet and time stood still. In 8 years as a captain, Holder had never lost a crew member. She hadn’t even considered it a real possibility. But now, with her chief engineer missing and unresponsive, she didn’t know what to do. It felt like she was a lieutenant again, fresh out of training. She looked at Silvera, pleading.

Chester, for his part, looked as disturbed as she was. But he kept his cool, “Its your call, Captain.”

Holder knew what she should do, but that didn’t make it any easier. The fact she couldn’t stand Powell made it even harder, somehow. But if Powell wasn’t responding, and there was no way to retrieve her, then she was dead, one way or the other. Holder didn’t want to think about it.

Time started again, “Owens, get ready to dump ore bay 3. Miller, point the ventral hull at that ship and be ready with a 200m/s dorsal burn.”

***

The ship swung away from Powell, but then continued through its arc and, incredibly, came close enough to her that she was able to grab a handrail, only 20 meters from the airlock.

She scrambled to gain a foothold as she held on tight with her one good arm. This was a long shot, but it was her only hope for survival. She found purchase, and set her aim, then kicked and swung herself around, spinning head over heels. For 3 eternal seconds, she drifted through space, only inky black and stars filling her vision. Then the ship came back into view, and she grabbed at the first thing she could see and held on for dear life.

She’d grabbed one of the many high-gain antennae that dotted the hull. Carefully, she slid her hand down and pulled herself towards the hull. She was only 5 meters from the airlock. As her hand made contact with the hull, she felt a rumble through it. She looked around, and her heart dropped.

***

“Ore bay 3 open, Captain,” said Owens.

“Good. Disengage cargo restraints.”

“Cargo restraints disengaged”

“Miller, 200m/s dorsal,” Holder commanded

“200 m/s dorsal, captain.” Came Miller’s reply.

***

The roof of the ship lit up all around Powell. She could feel the heat from the thrusters. The sudden change in environment made her jump, and she lost her grip on the antenna. Relief turned, once again, to mortal dread as the Huntington sped away from her, leaving her floating, dying, in deep space, billions of kilometers from her home in Dublin.

***

“Dorsal burn complete, captain.” Said Miller.

“Good,” said Holder, “Now put that ore between us and that ship, face us away from it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She would only have one chance to make this work, but Holder was a star poker player and knew how to use a bum hand to her advantage. Hold 3 had, until a minute ago, contained 20,000 metric tons of dense iridium ore. The Huntington didn’t have any armaments, but that didn’t mean she was defenseless.

“Holder, on my mark, engage engines, full power. Skip the purge burn.”

Miller nodded, “Preparing to fire main engines.”

***

The captain had jettisoned the contents of bay 3. Powell was beyond panic now. Not calm, but something else entirely. Numb to everything around her, she watched with a detached fascination as the ship pitched downward and yawed to starboard, before translating forward slightly, and finally starboard. It settled with the #2 engine that she’d just been working on a mere 10 meters away. She could see the big regenerative cooling tubes and the mounting cavity behind them.

She watched as the bell shuddered slightly, and recognition dawned on her. She hoped she wouldn’t feel what was coming next.

***

“Ignition complete.” came Miller’s clipped voice, “Standing by for full-power burn.”

Captain Holder got on the PA, “All hands, prepare for burn in 10 seconds.”

A preternatural calm came over the Captain. She hoped that Powell’s work had been enough. With 3 seconds left before the burn, she opened a channel, hoping Powell would somehow hear her, and said, “Please forgive me, Jenna.”

The two main engines of the Civil Ship Huntington spooled up. The ship’s dual fusion reactors pumping liquefied lithium deuteride into preburners that heated the silver grey dust hot enough to push it past liquid and gas and into ionized plasma, so hot the electrons and nuclei were ripped apart by sheer kinetic energy.

That was only the beginning, though. Next, the reactor squeezed down with a magnetic field stronger than the sun’s, and as the plasma was squeezed and heated even further, strong forces in the lithium atoms broke down, creating hydrogen and tritium, the latter of which sought out another atom to join itself to and, finding deuterium, they embraced, creating helium. As they did, each of them sacrifice a small portion of its mass to ensure this wedding would endure and, in doing so, a tiny fraction of each of those atoms was transformed, vanished from existence, into pure energy. This happened billions of trillions of times in a single second, and all of that energy had to go somewhere. Knowing this, the ship’s computer opened a hole in the magnetic confinement that coincided with the opening in the engine bell. Kinetic energy and Sir Issac’s third law dictated what happpened next.

Superheated plasma existed the engine bell at a temperature unmeasurable by any mechanical means, directly at the mass of iridium behind the ship. Much of the heavy metal immediately evaporated, but some survived, now white-hot and superheated, and heading directly towards the unknown ship assailing the Huntington at nearly 20 million kilometers per hour. The kinetic energy imparted transferred itself immediately to the ship, shredding it as easily as buckshot would disintegrate a clay pigeon. The Huntington sped away under her own power as the enemy ship dissolved under the barrage.

***

There is no air in space, thus there is no convection. There is, however, thermal radiation. The bulk of the plasma had been directed behind the Huntington, but the brilliant white-hot glow of her engines carried heat as well as light. It was this heat, in a pulse that lasted only 10 milliseconds before the Huntington sped away, that struck Jenna Powell.

For 10 milliseconds, every inch of her space suit that had been facing the engine, as well as her face, were heated to incandescence. Only her flesh and hair burned. The suit’s suppression system temporarily flooded her helmet with CO2, which worked to quell it within 2 seconds, but the damage had been done. The exterior of her suit, unable to ignite due to the lack of oxygen, instead boiled off. The sudden release of energy propelling her backwards, away from the rocket blast, saving her from the quick and painless death she had expected.

She screamed. She screamed and she cried. She was alone. Alone, and dying. She thought about home. About the Wicklow Mountains, about the sound of rain on a March evening, about the warmth of her bed. She thought about all of these, and how she would never see them again.

A shadow appeared over her. She felt herself being pulled backwards. Suddenly, an unfamiliar hallway appeared around her. A door closed in front of her, and she heard the hiss of an airlock pressurizing. After the silence of space and her ordeal, the sound was like a hammer in her brain.

She felt artificial gravity engage, and fell to the floor on her broken shoulder. She couldn’t even muster the energy to scream.

A pair of strangely mechanical armored legs appeared in front of her, and she felt herself lifted off the floor by powerful hands. A twisted face came into view, covered in wires and metal.

“Do not resist,” the figure said, its voice feminine and curiously synthetic, “You will become beautiful.”

Jenna Powell blacked out.

[dizzyjelly]

Better Than Him(18+)

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your boyfriend Derek says something offensive about your bsf Abby, you get into a fight with him then Abby comforts you. Then she spends the night and you wake up after a spicy dream and you two get up to some fun.

Cw: rude bf, fighting, cheating, smut, thigh riding, pussy eating, slight overstimulation

It was a relaxing afternoon in your dorm as usual. You'd just been sat on your loveseat, your bestfriend Abby next to you. The both of you had been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while, when your phone buzzed. Abby glanced over for a second, trying to see who it'd been. But it wad out of her view. She wasn't too worried though. You rolled your eyes with a light scoff.

"It's Derek, asking me to come over." You told her.

"Just tell him you're busy." She shrugged, continuing to scroll through tiktok on her phone.

"Yeah, yeah, already on it." You responded.

Derek: Come over? I'm bored lol

You: Sorry, can't! Abbys hanging at my place rn

Derek: fr? Wtf

You: Wdym?

Derek: nothing. I just don't like her is all.

You: wth. Why.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brows furrowing mostly with confusion and a bit of frustration. Sure, Derek never loved Abby, but he hadn't ever expressed negative feelings towards her before. Abby took notice to your change in demeanor, but decided not to say anything. Not yet at least.

It bothered you, what he'd said. Because she was your best friend after all. You guys had known each other since middle school, and he know how inexplicably close you were.

"Derek's being weird." You announced with a sigh as he typed.

"How?" Abby asked, setting her phone down as she leaned against the back of the couch and looked over at you.

"He said he didn't like you." You explained and looked back at her.

Immediately Abby felt confused, and a little annoyed. Because what the hell? She wasn't worried you'd choose him over her one bit, but it definitely bothered her hearing this. She tried to conceal the evident change in her mood, but you noticed anyways.

"Oh." Was all she said.

"I don't know what his fucking problem is." You responded, the frustration very evident in your voice.

Abby chewed at her thumbnail quietly as you were busy reading his response.

Derek: I mean she's honestly kind of a bitch and she's clearly obsessed with u lol. Idek why you're friends with her tbh.

You: you're kidding right? That is so fucking rude she's literally been my best friend for years how could u even say that?

You: I don't even wanna talk to you. Don't text me for a while.

Derek: what? Babe ur being dramatic, I'm just telling the truth.

And with that you silenced notifications from him and closed your messaging app. A bitter scoff fell from your lips as you shut your phone off and practically threw it into your lap. Abbys brows raised at this, intrigued at what he said to get you so upset.

"What? What did he say?" She asked, leaning closer to you.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. He's being an idiot. Let's just talk about anything else, please." You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to think about him.

Abby respected your wishes of course, instead talking about one of her class assignments. She ranted about how difficult it would be, and asked if you'd help her with it. You said yes of course. Then once she was bored of that she suggested watching a movie. You agreed and soon the two of you were under the covers in your bed, backs against the headboard.

You set your laptop up on your legs, giving each of you a nice and comfortable view. Abby would only ever suggest horror so you just let her pick the movie without sny protest. She settled on a movie called Lights Out. As per usual, you found yourself resting you head on her shoulder as you wrapped your hands around her forearm.

You always seeked comfort during scary movies, and she had no problem providing you with that. With every jumpscare you'd yelp and turn so your face was pressed against Abbys shoulder. She'd chuckled lightly at your scaredy-cat demeanor, which she'd tease you relentlessly for later. The movie was nearly over when somebody knocked at your door, you thought maybe it was your floor supervisor doing a check-in.

"Babe? Come on, please let me in." Then you heard his voice.

You let out an angry huff, pausing the movie and looking over at Abby. She crossed her arms as she sat uncomfortably, watching as you got uo reluctantly to answer the door.

"What? I said I didn't wanna talk to you." Your tone was harsh as you answered the door.

"I know I just-" he stopped when he caught a glimpse of Abby, in your bed, "she's still here? And why is she in your bed? What the fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Oh my God. We were watching a movie! Now what do you even want?" You asked, already beyond annoyed.

"Well, I just came to try and reason with you." He answered.

"Ok and how are you gonna do that? What you said way completely insulting, I'm not gonna hear you out on this." You chuckled bitterly, turning around and walking into your room more.

Unfortunately he'd followed you in, Abby had moved to the edge of your bed now. She was nervous, never having seen the two of you fight before. She'd only heard of arguments from you, never actually witnessed it firsthand.

"Come on, you have to admit there was some truth to what I said!" He yelled, having closed your door behind him.

"There's really not though! Not in my eyes at least, don't you have anything else to say?" You asked, clearly expecting an apology.

"Like what? If you're looking for a sorry I'm not giving you one." He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He stood his ground, crossing his arms as he was frozen in place. You sighed, bringing a hand to your face, resting it over your eyes. Abby stood now, coming to your side. Derek scoffed at this.

"Hey, it's fine." She whispered in your ear, a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

"No it's not. I just want him out." You whispered back as you turned to face her, biting your lip nervously.

"Then just kick him out." She shrugged.

Your turned back around to face Derek, crossing your own arms as you stepped closer to him. He smiled at you smugly, clearly expecting something very different than what you were about to say.

"You need to leave. Get out, now." Your voice was stern.

"What? You're not serious." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, I am. Just get the fuck out. I don't want you here!" You shouted at him now, throwing your arms into the air frustratedly.

"Whatever man." He rolled his eyes, exiting and slamming the door shut behind him.

A deep sigh fell from your lips as you felt exhausted and drained. You sat on your loveseat once again, your head falling into your hands as tears welled in your eyes. It wasn't really the fact you argued with him, you just felt overwhelmed. Which was the worst for you.

Abby frowned as you started to cry, sitting close next to you as she brought an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into her almost immediately, wrapping your arms around her and she did the same. She rubbed at your back soothingly as you cried into her chest.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine ok? I'm here." She spoke softly, and you just nodded.

Eventually you calmed down, and of course because Abby helped you. She'd offer to stay the night, which you enthusiastically agreed to. You'd give her a t-shirt to borrow, and she'd just leave her basketball shorts from the day on. Then you got yourself changed, comfortable in just panties and an oversized t-shirt that was just long enough to reach past your ass.

You let her get into bed first, shutting off the light then laughing as you practically fell on top of her when you got into bed. She laughed too, feeling her cheeks burn red hot at the feeling of your body against hers in such an intimate way. Her hands found their easy to rest on the small of your back, your own resting on her shoulders.

She thanked the lord you'd shut off the light because otherwise she's sure you'd see how hard she was blushing. Or how she bit her lip so damn hard it nearly bled. After a moment, you rolled over and face the wall.

"Go to bed you goof." You whispered out, pulling your blanket to your chin.

"Good night." Was Abbys response as she lied down, facing you.

"Night." You responded, closing your eyes.

You'd fall asleep in no time, meanwhile Abby was having trouble. She just stared at your back, the way your hair fell on your shoulders. It was hard to not let her mind wander to not so clean places. Not like she's never thought about you in that way before, but this time felt different.

You two had cuddled before sure, but something about earlier felt so much more tense. The way you didn't say anything, just lied there. Then she thought about Derek. She knew you guys had sex before, but just the though of it disgusted her.

Realistically, Abby knew she could give you so much better. But she wasn't even sure if you liked girls. And if you did, why would you like her? You were just best friends after all, and making things romantic could just ruin everything. She was willing her mind to shut off now, tossing and turning uncomfortably. Then she heard you gasp awake.

"Y/n? You ok?" She asked, turning to face you once again.

"Yeah, yeah. Just had a nightmare is all." You answered, breathing a bit heavily as you turned to face her.

"Aw, sorry." She brought a hand to rest on your shoulder.

"Thanks." You brought your hand to your shoulder as well, resting it atop hers.

"Do you wanna talk about it or anything?" She asked.

"No, no. Actually would you- could you just hold me?" You asked, your voice shaking the slightest with nerves.

"Yeah, of course." Abby answered, which had a sigh of relief falling past your lips.

She pulled you into her side, and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around her as you buried your face into her. And then, you hiked your leg up over her own. Abby swore she might stop breathing as she could feel the material of your panties against her bare leg. It was like something out of a wet dream.

She wrapped her arms around you as her mind went wild. It took all her willpower not to ask to fuck you right then and there, but she managed. The both of you fell asleep within the next hour.

Usually when you'd cuddle with Abby, you'd sleep throughout the night. But tonight was different. You woke up at nearly two in the morning, trying to catch your breath and wondering why you felt so weird. Then you realized, you had a sex dream... about Abby! What the hell!

This was new and very surprising. You wouldn't expect that in a million years. Well, maybe that's a stretch, but still. It was hard not to notice how wet you were, surely a spot had formed on your panties by now. You let out a low whine as you nuzzle your face into Abbys neck, your lips pressed against the side of it.

"Abbyyy. Abby wake up." You whined, shaking her lightly by holding onto her shoulder.

You waited as she finally stirred awake, groaning as her hand rested on your back. She closed her eyes as she talked to you.

"What?" She asked, tired.

"Abby don't go back to sleep. I- I need you." You stuttered as you spoke, feeling embarrassed.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Her eyes were definitely open now.

"Like- I need you." You let out a small whimper.

Abby soon got your message loud and clear as you started to kiss along her neck, leaving one hickey for good measure. Her breath hitched as you continued, kissing along her jaw ten making your way to her pulse point. A low moan came from her as you began to lightly suck and nip at it.

"Y/n, I don't know if this is a good id-" You put a hand over her mouth as you began to straddle her, your hair falling so it tickled the sides of her face.

"Come on Abby. Let's just help each other out. It can be a one time thing if you want." You whispered in a sultry voice.

"Fuck, ok." She did not want it to be a one time thing, but she'd be damned if she didn't let this happen right now.

Abby brought her hands to your waist, and you leaned forward to connect your lips to her own. She let her hands roam your body as you deepened the kiss, moaning into her mouth when she slipped her tongue into yours. The way she swirled it around your own drove you crazy, it felt like you were seeing stars.

You let out a sigh as you sat up, throwing your head back with pleasure as Abby squeezed your plump ass. She then moved her hands to your thighs, moving them so that you only straddle her left thigh. You bit down at your bottom lip, a smile on your face as you stabilized yourself by putting your hands on her chest.

Ever so slowly, Abby began to grind your hips. It put a delicious pressure to your clit, even through your panties. It didn't take you long yo remove them though, your bare cunt now gliding beautifully against her upper thigh. She'd flex it every so often, causing you to moan even louder than you already were. Abby smiled, letting out a small groan at the feeling of your slick gathering on her thigh.

"Fuckkk Abby~ you dont even know h-how long I've wanted th-this." You stuttered on your words as her hand remained on your hips, continuing to help you as you grinded against her.

"Tell me about it." She chuckled, admiring you as your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open.

You brought your hands to Abbys shoulders now, your vocabulary consisting only of abbys name and a few curses. Given you weren't really talking much, mostly moaning pathetically as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. A few more minutes passed and you knew if Abby kept going you'd cum.

"I'm gonna-" You moaned loudly, cutting yourself off, "gonna cum." You whined, gasping lightly.

"It's alright baby, go ahead. Come on, cum for me." She helped you continue as your hips stuttered.

And when you finally came, it was like you'd gone to heaven and back. You'd never felt this euphoric with anyone before. Abby smiled at you as you came down from your high, a small laugh falling past your lips.

You let out a quiet whine as you let your head fall to rest on her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as you stayed sat in place. Abby rubbed her hands up and down your back, placing kisses along your cheek and down to the side of your neck.

"We done or did you wanna keep going?" She whispered.

"I definitely don't wanna stop." You whispered back, pulling your head up to kiss her on the lips.

Then you began to kiss her jaw, and down her neck. You went all along her collarbones, your hands running up and down her sides. You gazed up at her with a smile, brining your hands to the hem of her shirt and waiting for the ok. She nodded and lifted her arms, you pulled her shirt off and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

You brought your hands immediately to her tits, squeezing them gently then rolling her hard nippled between your fingers as you kissed down between them. You couldn’t help but laugh as you got her tummy and blew a raspberry on it. She laughed too.

"Wh- did you just blow a fuckin' raspberry down there?" She asked as she propped her elbows up on either side of herself.

"Maybe..." You answered shyly, chuckling.

"Just be quiet and let me do this." You spoke with some authority now.

"Yes ma'am.." She answered, closing her eyes as her head fell to rest on your pillows.

You'd kissed all the way down to the waistband of her shorts, looking up once again and waiting until she nodded before pulling both them and her panties off in one swift motion. Abby let out a deep moan as you licked a slow stripe up through her folds, collecting the majority of her slick onto the tip of your tongue. You groaned at the delightful taste of her.

Her moans grew louder as you wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking harshly before drawing figure 8's on it with the tip of your tongue. Then you shifted so you could bring a hand up, easily sliding in your middle and ring finger into her aching hole. Her breath stuttered as you curled your fingers, perfectly hitting her g-spot while continuing your assault on her clit.

Abbys hands gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles turned white, and she felt that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Unable to control herself, she jerked her hips forward and grinded onto your face. You let out a small moan, the vibration sending an entire new wave of pleasure to the blonde girl.

Her thighs closed instinctively as she reached her high, and you let them. Her chest rose and fell at a fast pace as she moaned and gasped through her blinding orgasm.

"Oh- God. I fucking love you Y/n." She moaned and your heart skipped a beat.

You didnt stop even after she came, until she used a hand to push you away, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. You listened, pulling back with a sigh.

"Mm, fuck. Get up here and kiss me." Abby spoke breathlessly.

You listened immediately, crawling over top of her as you caged her between your arms. Your hands placed on the sheet as you leaned forward and sloppily kissed Abby. She whined at the taste of herself on your tongue, brining her hands to the back of your neck and tangling them in your hair. Once you pulled away your used the back of your hand to wipe her juices from your chin.

"Abby... I love you too." You spoke as you rested your forehead against hers.

She laughed, her hands now coming to hold your face lovingly. Her laughter was infectious as ever, causing small giggles to fall past your lips as well. You continued to giggle as she kissed each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead, and then finally your lips.

"I'm gonna go get a washcloth, mkay?" You told her, already standing to make your way tonthe bathroom.

You came back to find Abby pulling her shirt back on. She smiled at you as you walked over to her, wiping both her thigh and between her legs. Then you cleaned yourself before tossing the washcloth into your hamper then putting a new pair of panties on. Abby put her own back on, letting her shorts stay on the floor.

Abby ran her hands through her hair, waiting for you to join her back into bed. She layed on her side and held her arms out for you. You wasted no time in curling up against her, wrapping your arms around her and nuzzling your face into her neck. Abby held you and rubbed your back until you both fell asleep again.

[staybabblingbaby]

Chan x Youtuber (Discover Part) a1 d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is an anonymous Youtuber who does English covers of various k-pop songs, including Stray Kids. Bangchan comes across one of these one night and falls in love with Reader's voice. They develop an online friendship, and Bangchan might be in love with more than just the voice.

Word Count: 962

Notes: I had a lot of fun narrating the video. I've seen it a lot in Idol novels that I read online, and it really is a fun and new perspective to use. The username may stay, it may change, i might get rid of it entirely idk. Kind of also contemplating using 'You' instead of 'person'. Idk we'll see how it goes as i work on it. Feedback would be much appreciated for this one. No editing notes rn, I'm not rlly feelin' it.

Warnings: None that I know of? It's just silly fluff idk what u want from me.

Masterlist link :D| Prev Part

It was 2am on a random Tuesday in Seoul. Bangchan lay staring at his ceiling for the nth time that month, silently cursing at his insomnia. He rolls over for the thousandth time to stare at his wall instead. His eyes drift his phone on the nightstand, and he idly wonders if he should spend some time teasing STAY on Bubble.

It’d definitely relieve the soul-crushing boredom of being unable to sleep, but he doesn’t really feel like receiving their well-intentioned scolding over his sleep schedule right now. He rolls back onto his back and heaves a tired sigh.

With resignation, he sits up and grabs his phone. He’d like to avoid being scolded, but receiving STAY’s love is always comforting. Vlogs and edits it is, then.

He hops onto YouTube with deft fingers and begins his latest STAY-binge. The thought of STAY’s reactions when he reminds them that he watches their stuff brings a smile to his face. They always freak out so cutely.

Soon enough, he’s zoned out and mindlessly scrolling through, giggling along to memes and watching vlogs with all the affection in his heart.

He runs out of content from the accounts he regularly watches pretty quickly. He’s only killed about 30 minutes, and even though his mood has improved significantly, he doesn’t quite feel up to going back to staring at his ceiling yet.

With a light heart, he descends into the familiar uncharted territory of his recommended feed. He manages to kill another hour or so before a particular video catches his eye.

[Learn Music Production With Me! | Cover Me by Stray Kids (English Cover) | EP.4]

The thumbnail features someone with brightly colored hair slumped over a desk, their face smooshed against the wood and their arms dangling limply beside them. Their features are obscured by a fabric mask, but bright blue tear-tracks are drawn on over top.

Bangchan can’t help but be amused by the image. He could definitely relate to the frustrations of learning music production. He actually felt a bit flattered and flustered that this person was using his music to learn from.

Officially intrigued, Chan clicks on the video.

It opens with a shot of the person from the thumbnail from the back. They’re sat at the same desk, which Chan can now see hosts a towering hutch with full shelves decked out in flower-shaped fairy lights. He spots a large section of SKZ albums tucked between other albums and books on the hutch’s shelves.

There’s a microphone on the desk, the boom arm pushed to the side, and a bulky set of headphone’s on the figure’s head. Despite the microphone’s distance from the person at the desk Chan can hear the furious clicking of a mouse as clear as day.

This scene plays out for a moment before the clicking suddenly stops and the person freezes. They slowly remove their headphones and sigh loudly. A very crisp [“Fuck!”] Takes him by surprise and he can’t help a soft laugh as the video pauses and begins to rewind.

[“So turns out I’m a big ol’ dumb-dumb and I’ve been doing this wrong this entire time.”] A voiceover begins to explain. The rewind quickly covers what Bagchan assumes is hours of work, and the voice over continues, [“Well, not wrong, per say, but I was definitely doing it the hard way. Wrong Equation right answer sort of situation. I.”] The voice chuckles ashamedly, [“I could have done this whole thing in a third of the time. I’m so embarrassed. Let me show you.”]

The rewind stops and the video switches to a different angle. The camera is obviously sitting on the desk this time, looking at the person from the side. The angle is much closer. The person waves awkwardly at the camera with both hands and rotates their chair to face it properly.

[“Hi all, I’m Grimm’sTeddy and this is episode 4 of me failing to learn how to produce music. We’re onto week 6 now, because I was quite seriously fighting with this program the entire time.”] A caption appears on the screen, [Shoulda watched more tutorials, buddy].

The video continues along the same vein for a while, a mix of Grimm talking and explaining their process while being unknowingly roasted by the occasional caption when they do something wrong. The video mostly shows the screen they’re working from, only switching back to the vlog-style camera when Grimm is being particularly dramatic about their struggles.

Around the 10 minute mark, Grimm discovers the feature of the program that triggered the reaction from the first clip. There’s a bit of grumbling and self-deprecating jokes, and then the video’s pace speeds up by quite a lot. Apparently the process is a lot less entertaining when it’s going smoothly.

Finally, 12 minutes in, the full cover is revealed.

Bangchan is, quite honestly, entranced.

There’s something almost desperate in the tone Grimm sings with, something raw and hurting. The cover is incredibly faithful to the original. They’d changed some words to preserve the melody across languages but were clever enough with it to preserve the meaning.

Bangchan finds himself impressed. Sure there are mistakes, and a lot of polish is missing, but the voice sticks in his head like glue. He goes to the channel’s page to find the first video in the series almost without thinking about it.

It turns out the video he’d watched was from several months ago, just after they’d released the song initially. There were only 2 videos after it, the series seemingly ending at episode 6.

Chan ends up watching the other 5 videos that night. He falls asleep with his phone on his chest at 5am, after making sure to leave a comment on each video.

[aibouart]

Art Trades Opening~

Okay so I hate artfight for specific reasons but i wanna draw and none of my OCs are doing it for me, but idk if i have the organisational skills rn (i have a fuck ton of chores to do today) to accept new comms SO ANYWAYS

I am opening for ~3 art trades. (might come back and do more if I have time)

We will be doing flat chibis (full body) at min. I will not trade a flat chibi for a sketch, you must match my level of completion. You can go above that if you desire (shading, non chibi, etc) but please don't expect me to be able to match your level of completion. I just need to make sure you know what completion level to expect going into this! please don't haggle completion levels (such as offering 2x coloured sketches), i don't really have the energy to think about all that stuff rn sorry.

you must be able to complete your end in at least a month, please. otherwise i will forget entirely about this. also due to past experience, i will not be sending you the full res image of my end if i finish before you. I will only send a low res thumbnail. i will not be sending WIPs for error fixes etc (i will send them as proof of progress!), as this is not a commission, but if i forgot something egregious/important in the finalised image, PLEASE let me know! i still want you to like it!

please no overly complicated characters. mine aren't super marking heavy, either! you can send a complicated character to ask if it's okay, and i'll let you know~

I REQUIRE this info: (feel free to reblog w this form or DM me! if it fits into the replies that works, too.)

Example of your art: (image/link/your art tag) Character(s) you want me to draw: (image/url) Must Haves: (accessories that are not optional, if you wanted the character to be a specific mood/personality, etc)

Here are my characters I'd love to see drawn, pick yer poison~ My furry/anthro characters do not have pronounced muzzles, they are specifically kemono style..!

1: BunSong 2: Shitvee 3: Calpico 4: ChooChoo 5: Cim 6: My Pokesona 7: Yarby 8: My Splatsona

I tried to include variety so hopefully one of them works for you~

[allianettemie5]

Honestly, if any CC reads this I will have my goal achieved, so proceed

Warning: about CCs and fanfiction, so to those who can be triggered, pls skip this

I hail from a big streamer-based fandom, a place that had apologists, haters, and those who tried their best to be within everyone's boundaries of privacy; there were a lot of artists and writers there, excellent ones, who could rival published authors tbh. I am in awe of many of them. I mostly stayed out of any controversies, though they naturally were bound to find me in whatever corner of the world I was hiding. Privacy breaches, a lot of dirty clothes being dug out, CC targeting, mental illnesses, fans being unable to separate characters from content creators, and more. It's disgusting

I went to among us streamers in search for idk maybe more mature vibe, and I thought I found peace for just a short while. But lobby slot arguments, people not clicking with each other, that even led to shouting matches, bringing the group mood down. It was exhausting. The fandom was as creative, less explosive but was new, inconsistent and shaky, and it seemed that nobody knew each other

I don't see that much in PR1 streaming group and PR2 community. I enjoy talking to people that hang out here and enjoy the same things that I enjoy in a similar way that I do, and they are all just wonderful, just amazing, and fun, and crazy, and insane (in the best way possible). There is peace between CCs and fans, both sides addressing the bad things that happen in the fullest once, just once, and that is always enough for the both sides to keep the matter quiet and just keep up the positivity and mutual understanding

However

The recent events (that were basically just a sum up of several events prior to that, and it started way back a decade ago) actually rose a serious concern, that I was really hesitant to address, but it's that time I guess (yt "we have to talk" thumbnail)

I have not encountered online bullying directed at myself yet, and I hope I'll never have to, and I wish that my fellow PR2 people will not experienced that in the future

I know what irl bullying is though, I've experienced it first hand. I know what it is like to be hated and publicly laughed at because of being different. I know what it feels like to hear slurs and hate-talk about yourself and those who are very close to you from such a prejudiced point of view

I just escaped all of that. I have enclosed myself within a tiny space, consisting of only those who I want to speak to, those who I enjoy listening to, topics I feel safe reading and not going to lose my last nerves on

I'll say this once, and will not make another tumblong on this topic

If an abstract CC wants to read fanfiction sooooo fucking badly, they should

Suck it up and make an account, fucking coward

ASK THE AUTHOR FOR PERMISSION YOU ASS

Do not make fun of a real living person because they do what they enjoy for their friends to read

Do not make content of other people's hard work in a disrespectful way

Do not FUCKING STREAM reading the fanfic without EXPLICIT PERMISSION from the author

Imagine if the developers of a game, that you enjoy playing a lot and create playthroughs and guides and theory and lore exploration videos, come across your content and start yelling in their twits how fucking dumb you are, omg we can't believe that someone would in their right mind create these, LLOOOOOOOLLLLL WHAT AN IDIOT, what would you feel? You go to your comments and see haters and insults and you receive messages that you're a disgusting person and should stop doing whatever you were doing, what would you do? How would you respond?

If certain CCs don't learn that boundaries go both ways they can very well expect their fans number decreasing in a rapid rate