#their content is so much better than this cringe fest

[darkrunsout]

This show is so boring and cringe urgh...

[dangerous-mess]

Holiday Troubles

Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader

Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some

Word Count: 2K+ 

The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.

The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.

The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.

You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.

“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”

You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.

“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.

“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.

“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.

Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.

You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.

“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.

Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.

“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.

“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.

He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.

“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.

“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.

Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.

For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.

“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”

You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”

You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.

“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.

[destinygoldenstar]

You’re telling me this wasn’t made by Dhar Mann yet?

DISCLAIMER, this is a PARODY, NOT encouraged to actually exist. Don’t take this seriously

Child: *reading a book and minding his own business*

Mother: Son, I want us to spend quality time together and have a movie night

Child: Okay! What do you have in mind?

Mother: How about we watch a Dhar Mann video? 

Child: What?! Ew, no! That’s not even a movie! That’s just a cringe fest of unnecessary preaching, unrealistic scenarios, and a massive ego boost!

Mother: *OFFENDED* HOW DARE YOU?! Dhar Mann is NOT cringe AT ALL! He does NOT have an ego! He is ThE gReAtEsT hUmAn BeInG tO EVER RoAm On EaRtH! NOTHING about what you said is true!

Child: Uh, opinion? 

Mother: Your opinion is WRONG! Dhar Mann videos are NOT ego boosts! They teach iMpOrTaNt LiFe LeSsOnS! How do you not like Dhar Mann is you have never watched him?

Child: At least I haven’t been corrupted by the cringe. I don’t watch what I don’t find interest in! And have you SEEN these bold texts that cap locks random words with an awkward meme face by the side?

Mother: You know, you should NeVeR jUdGe A bOoK bY iT’s CoVeR!

Child: Oh, not THIS lecture again! You’re always saying that! Stop it!

Mother: You only read Twilight! Pick up a different book why don’t ya?

Child: You only watch Dhar Mann! Pick up a different video why don’t ya?

Mother: Son, I know that this sounds like an even situation when you put it like that, but here’s the thing: I’m right, you’re wrong! That’s how the world works! EVERYTHING is better than Twilight!

Child: Can we watch something else together?

Mother: NO. You’re gonna learn an iMpOrTaNt LiFe LeSsOn by watching this Dhar Mann video with me!

Child: What lesson is that? How it will change my life?? *sarcasm*

Mother: You always watch and read junk! I used to as well until I found Dhar Mann, and he made me a BETTER person!

Mother: You see...

Mother: *gives an overly long backstory about how she used to read books in her interest circle only and despised Dhar Mann because everyone else peer pressured her into watching them, until she was forced to watch one and became brainwashed-I mean fell in LOVE with the video and decided to watch everything the man made, the whole time gushing over how great of a person Dhar Mann is, so much so that his content alone solved ALL of her social anxieties*

Child: *half asleep* And yet Dhar Mann didn’t fix your marriage.

Mother: You know what? Because you deny his gReAtNeSs, I will make it clear that starting today, you and I are going to watch a Dhar Mann video EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

Child: Yes, counselor? I’d like to vent to you about my mom...

Mother: You have NO CHOICE! It’s either that... or you will NEVER pick up a book FOR FIVE YEARS!

Child: School?

Mother: Dhar Mann is more important than your education kiddo! So what’s it gonna be?

Child: ...

Child: I’d rather be grounded.

Narration: “The mom put a strangle hold on her son, furious with him that he did not want to watch Dhar Mann videos. She was going to do whatever it takes to teach her son that he should not judge a book by it’s cover. She chained her son to the couch and forced him to watch Dhar Mann with her every night, hoping he’d learn about the man’s amazing influence on the world. At first, it did not go well, as the kid did not want to watch the videos or find any influence in them at all. It seemed as though the kid was destined to become the devil solely because he did not like Dhar Mann videos... but then her mother pulled out a coin and hypnotized-I mean CASUALLY INFLUENCED her son into submission, and it helped him focus on the video far more and become invested. Soon enough, he becomes entranced by the videos and begins to fall in love with them, and he became willing to watch Dhar Mann videos every night on his own, and even after punishment, he still wanted to watch every new Dhar Mann video that would come out. And it was at this moment that the kid finally learned to not judge a book by it’s cover. And then one day, his father came home to see how much his son has been brainwashed-I mean has changed over the years...”

Child: These are sO gOoD! i lOvE tHeM!

Mother: sO yOu SeE sOn, dHaR mAnN iS a LeGeNd!

Child: I’m sorry I ever doubted you before mom! I should have never judged a book by it’s cover! 

Mother: I’m so proud of you!

Father: *coming home* ... 🤨Okay, dear gosh, I don’t know what’s going on here.

Child: I’m a better person dad!

Father: Son, do you want to go outside, get some fresh air, and get some exercise?

Child: No thank you! Watching Dhar Mann videos is all I need to learn about life!

Father: ... and this is why I left.

So you see... never judge a book by it’s cover! It could be ADDICTING

(You’re seriously telling me this doesn’t exist?)

[nostuntmanneeded]

I took a look at Ale resume and personally I don’t think it’s that bad. One of her shoes lasted more than one season and usually those take up majority of the year. She still gets booked or at least was so there must be something there. I guess its not a great representation of a successful one or maybe even a promising one. Does anyone know how prestigious the agency she is signed to? I know her modeling agency is a good one in Spain // As said, it has been mentioned that she left college to pursue acting, She'd most likely be around 18-19 at the time I guess, and considering they said she wanted to focus on acting, I'm assuming she's been doing acting even before college, meaning she's been at this for over 10 years now. Personally, I'd expect more from someone who's been in the business for over 10 years, I know people who are extremely succesful and highly respectable in the industry despite being new and being around for like only 5 years or so. I believe in quality over quantity, it doesn't matter how much project an artist get if the project is not even that good. I personally think that her filmography is either totally unimpressive or mediocre at best. I don't think Alta Mar is a good example since it's really not that highly acclaimed. If you'd look at reviews, most people are watching them for the sake of comic relief because it was a cringe fest. However, there are still acouple of reviews sayiny they like the story and writing, but it's still highly notorious for bad acting so that says a lot and there's just a lot of people who've seen her work saying her acting is not really good in general. As performers, it's better to have a film/show not that well received but get praised for your performance than have a decent project and get badly criticized for your performance and the fact that you have been in the industry for over 10 years and people still have a lot to say (negatively) about the way you perform says a lot about your capabilities. As for the modelling agency, they're really not that complicated, it's a pretty biased industry, it's all just a matter of looks and connection and she has both. Besides, she claims to be an actress, modelling is supposed to be a sideline for her, I mean she literally put 'Actriz' on her Instagram not "Model" or at least 'Actriz/Modelo' so it really it shouldn't be that big of a deal and for someone who has 'Actriz' written on her bio, she sure does have a lot of modelling content compared to acting content.

Exactly!

I really do think she's been going at this for 10 or more years, and while her resume may look alright for someone who is just starting out, she should have been in better quality projects by now.

She might consider herself an actress because it rakes in more attention. Most models aren't super famous, or at least not as famous as Hollywood actresses are.

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

Exerpt 2:

In a drunken rage as his eyes set at the last person eh wanted to see, Qrow charged Raven, however she wasn't as submissive this time around. She felt no obligation to deal with this pettiness. Had he really came all the way out here to seek her out? This was one thing she wouldn't tolerate from her brother. As she too lunged forward, their blades ready to clatter against each other once again, to her surprise she was met with an unexpected, swift, heavy duty boot to the stomach, kicking her backwards, all the while Qrow's blade clashed with another other than her own. One that was rather sizable, but not as so as Qrow's. An older, salt and pepper haired, rough looking male in sunglasses, a scar running down his right eye, and dressed in a red kimono like robe, and black cloak had blocked the strike and stood in Raven's place. What was more estonishing is how the man's left arm rest in the nook of his vermillion clothing. He was holding back Qrow's attack one handed.

Qrow releases pressure against the other male, and backs up. His gaze drifted over to Raven who sat back and gritted her teeth ready to charge the same man who had blocked his own attack. "What are you doing??? Stay out of this! This is between me and her!" The man approaches, no hesitation in his step. This was enough to make Qrow shrink down a bit, as he took in the stern look that unmasked it's self from behind those dark blue shades. Soon a man who was before hand shorter than Qrow by an inch, was suddenly towering over him. "You will stand donw, soldier. As second in command of this team, that is an order." Hearing the gruff, blunt words of the older looking male was enough to make Raven back off as well. But upon meeting each other's stare again, the twins resorted to a bickering match, one of which was enough to make the people around them roll their eyes in annoyance. "I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" Qrow's words spat out like venom, but Raven's poison was much meaner. "OH PLEASE. I WAS FINALLY CONTENT ENOUGH TO LEAVE YOU TO YOUR SELF PITTYING BULLSHIT, BUT YOU HAD TO FOLLOW ME ALL THE WAY OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF BUMFUCKED NOWHERE-" "ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU!" The unidentifiable man that they only knew as "Second command" was not the only one to include his two cents. Hei took a step forward, looking at both the twins as they stared at him with shock upon hearing him raise his voice in such an aggressive manner.

"I expected better from both of you, and for you two to act so unprofessionally in my presence before you've even made a name for yourself here? I'm disgusted. Insulted even... Now, I want you to give me a good reason why I shouldn't fire you both right now." A gulp in Qrow's throat, and a shiver up Raven's spine, they stood there dumb struck for a second. If there's one thing the two had in common without realizing it was that they both needed this job, and now it was in danger because of their distain for one another. Qrow was the only one able to muster something up out of the two. "I thought she was stalking me..." Hei's facial expression changed upon hearing Qrow's failure of an explaination to that of disapointment and slight infuriation. "Anything to add to that Raven? I'm still waiting on you." "I thought HE was stalking me!" "AH! NO BICKERING. I'M NOT HERE TO LISTEN TO YOU TWO HAVE A BITCH FEST." Hei thought about their prediciment for a bit before he finally came to the conclusion that this was all just a big misunderestanding. "Okay... So I don't know what's going on with you guys, but I do know one thing. No one is stalking anyone. Raven. I hired you at a work fair event. Qrow... I literally found you as a sad heap of human flesh on a corner, and decided I could probably use you for something. This is just a really terrible couincidence. Anyways, with that cleared up, you two best be getting to solving your issues, and stop trying to kill each other, because GUESS WHAT??? YOU'RE TEAM MATES! AIN'T IT GREAT!?"

Hei's big dorky smile faded as he watched the two cringe at the thought. "Okay, seriously. What's your two's beef? You look like sad, miserable excuses for human beings, and it's annoying the shit out of me." Raven lets out a sigh. "Qrow's my brother. We're twins-" "Ehem, ESTRANGED twins." Qrow cuts Raven off. "She's kind of a bitch." Qrow informs Hei with a snarky smirk on his face "Yeah, yeah. I'm aware. That's why I hired her." Raven glared at both her boss and her brother as they exchanged wise cracks at her expence. "Well, Qrow! I like ya, my guy, but~ yeah, you need to stop crying about how much of a cunt your sister is, and work things out with her. You two are going to have to work together, and the way you two act towards one another is enough to cause a fault in the team dynamic. That's a recipe for disaster." Raven let out yet another exasperated sigh, as she knew Hei was right in this instance. Recklace behavior can lead to death. A disfunctional team can cause that reckless behavior. Not to mention, that soft spot for her brother she had accumulated the past two years still hadn't completely gone away. She turned to Qrow, putting her hand out. "...Truce?" Qrow stared at his sister blankly... "I'll just go get friendly with old man jenkins over there." He says, walking over to the man he had briefly fought. "Hiya, sorry for the rough start. The name's Qrow Branwen, and you are???" "Hmph... If you must know, my name is Auron-" Raven vaguely tuned in the conversation, but soon the realization if how much her attempted kindness failed set in and saltiness began to hit. Ouch... that had to hurt. Raven put her hand down as it had finally picked up on the fact that it's services were no longer needed. "That rough?" Hei's curisiotiy gets the best of him. "I... wasn't the best person when I was alive... Qrow suffered the consequences for it. It's stupid of me to try and force forgiveness... Especially so soon after being reunited." "Give it time Rae. Maybe it's just me, but Qrow doesn't seem like the kind to hold grudges, no matter how hard he tries. He gave me that salty, abrasive attitude as well at first, but I broke the surface. I think he just needs time to see you've changed. Anyways. I have to go prepare for a repeat of the Qrow and Raven show, just with a different cast! I maaay or may not have hired mortal enemies to work together, soooo... yeeeeah. They're likely going to try and kill each other! Now that was intentional... Anyways, take care Rae~" Raven found herself standing there alone, watching as all her presumed co-workers talked amongst themselves. She pulled out a pack of cigs, lighting one, and taking a drag from it to take the edge off. This was her life now. Living with a bunch of strangers, a lunatic, and her resentful brother... This was going to be one hell of a ride...

---To be continued---

More bounty hunter shit, because yes, I enjoy the idea of Qrow and Raven haphazzardly working together on a team full of other bounty hunters.

[sassy-pelican]

Touch Starved: Bucky Barnes

I finished the long ass fic mentioned in this post. As requested, I am tagging @ruckystarnes. I don’t know if this counts as part of the challenge for today (Oct 14) but I am going to tag it anyway, since technically they didn’t have sex on a bed.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Premise: As an old friend of Sam Wilson you knew you could count on him when you needed. When you lose your apartment due to a nasty breakup, he offers you a place the Avengers* Compound, for a small price; you have to cook at least once a week. As you get to know the individuals better, you learn that Bucky Barnes has a super-soldier appetite for more than just food.

Warning: Language, fluff, humor, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), 18+, nsfw

*Resident Avengers: Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Bruce. This is set after Civil War and is AU. Bucky also has his new arm featured in Infinity War and Endgame. Except for Bucky’s arm and the new Bruce/Hulk, the events of the last two movies didn’t happen.

A/N: As mentioned in the post linked above, this is not at all what I set out to write. Although, I don’t actually know what I set out to write so that might be the problem. Anyway ... this is long (actual content is 4615 words), I could have added more but I figured I should stop. At least for now. The title also has nothing to do with the smut. This is unedited.

The day you walked in on your boyfriend of three years fucking some random bitch you didn’t realize how much your life was going to change. You had only stood there, open-mouthed and gaping as he fucked her into next Sunday. The Chinese takeout slipping from your hands you stared as it hit the ground, interrupting their fuck-fest.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jason, the douchebag, just stared as he debated trying to explain.

“Who are you?” The woman asks. You close your eyes, trying to gain a semblance of decorum before opening your mouth. To hell with it.

“I am, was, his girlfriend. Of. Three. Years.” Her eyes go wide, hands clutching the sheet she was using to shield herself tighter now.

“Jason?” Her whiny voice is pleading. You want to vomit.

“Get out.” You mutter, barely above a whisper. They both hear you anyway. “Get out of my apartment!”

Hurriedly, they scramble for their clothes. Jason sends me a pleading look. “Baby…”

“Don’t.” You look him in the eyes, forcefully holding in the tears. “You don’t get to call me that. Not now. Not ever.”

“But –” You pick up his pants, the ones he still hasn’t put on, and throw them at him.

“I. Said. Get. Out.” He doesn’t argue after that.

You ate the Chinese food a few hours after they vacated the apartment. You sold it a few weeks after he came and picked up his stuff; the stuff you unceremoniously threw on the sidewalk.

~

The phone to Sam was a no-brainer. While the two of you had grown apart recently due to circumstances neither one of you could control, you knew him. You knew that in a pinch, he would help. Still, your voice shook as you explained. “I need a place to stay.”

“Of course. Although, I might mention that my current lodgings aren’t what you’re used to.” He says, rather sheepishly for Sam Wilson.

“What do you mean?” The phone becomes heavy in your hands as you await his response, the silence and his breathing on the other end deafening.

“I live at the Avengers Compound.”

“Oh.” You pause this time. “Am I allowed to stay over?”

“You are now.” He says as if it is the most obvious answer in the world.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just cook for everyone once a week, maybe more, and they won’t ever let you leave.” He said jokingly. You didn’t take it as a joke.

“Does anyone have preferences?”

~

The first night you were there everyone paid you far more attention than you cared for. You knew it was because of your status as a civilian in a place no civilian, except maybe someone’s bed partner for the night, ever stepped foot.

“Guy’s, this is [Y/N]!” Sam yells excitedly. You cringe alongside a few others. “She is staying here for a while.” He doesn’t let anyone question you as he pulls your arm and forces you to follow him to the room, he deemed adequate for his ‘best lady-friend.’

“I apologize in advance.” He turns to me. “You’re next to Barnes.”

“Why is that bad?”

“The walls are soundproof enough, but not completely. He has terrible nightmares; even after his time in Wakanda. This is the best room available though, so you’ll have to make-do.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect to be welcome at all once  I heard where you live.” You mumble. “I’m sure the room will be fine Sam. Now, go hang out with your super-friends.”

He laughs, but does as you ask, only after dropping your bags on the floor.

With your own personal touches, the grey room won’t be bad, it just needs some love. Huffing out a sigh, you begin to unpack.

Hours after your arrival, the room to your liking, and everyone mildly accepting of your presence, you begin to plan the first meal.

~

The first meal was anything but boring. You decided to go with a classic: spaghetti and meatballs. You knew what you wanted, but now you needed the quantity resulting in a rather awkward conversion with Sam.

“How much does everyone eat?”

“Huh?”

“How much does everyone eat?” You ask again. Sam just stares at you.

“You’ve seen me eat, so like two servings of whatever for me. Wanda and Natasha eat like normal humans. Steve and Bucky eat enough for three people maybe four, and Bruce eats enough for six.”

You nod. Four hours later, twenty meatballs in, and five pounds of spaghetti later, you are ready to face the critics. The sound of everyone returning from their briefing with Tony before he left to go home lets you know it is time.

“What’s going on?” Wanda asks, Vision at her side.

“I made dinner?”

“You made all this?” Steve asks, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. It’s just spaghetti, albeit five pounds, but it is just spaghetti.” Everyone stares at you. “There are meatballs on the tray over there,” you point to them, “noodles and sauce are on the stove.” You swallow audibly and wait for everyone to react.

“How many meatballs did you fix?” Sam asks.

“Twenty, so eat sparingly.”

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I am having five!” Sam says.

“You are not!” You yell. Looking at everyone you smile. “Well, this isn’t a five-star restaurant, this is buffet style. Serve yourselves.”

They did. Between you and everyone else, there wasn’t a scrap left.

~

It had been weeks and you hadn’t heard Bucky have a nightmare. Tonight though, you did. It wasn’t loud, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing. The low moans and groans from your shared wall made you want to hug him. You didn’t know if he would like that, so you stayed where you were. Sleep didn’t come easy, the sounds he was making haunting you as you tried to close your eyes.

The next morning, he didn’t come out for breakfast. Silently, and after everyone left for their various tasks, you plated a stack of blueberry pancakes, a bottle of syrup, butter, and a fork, and knocked on his door.

“Bucky?” You ask through the door.

He doesn’t answer. You knock again. “I have pancakes.” He doesn’t respond, not even a rustling.

“James Buchanan Barnes! If this door is unlocked, I am coming in!” Adjusting your hold, you try the door, unlocked.

Cautiously, you open it. He is sitting on his bed, bent over, head in his hands, hair a mess, and back dripping with sweat. “Bucky. You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.” You set the plate and other things on the dresser. “Get up.” This time your tone is forceful.

He lifts his head, surprise on his features. “Get. Up.”

Reluctantly, he does. You hold out your hand. To your surprise, he takes it. “Eat. Then I will sit in here and help you fall asleep.”

“I can’t. I can’t fall asleep.” He mumbles, already digging into the food.

“You can.” You look at him, and he looks hollow. “You can Bucky.”

“How?”

“Let me help you.” You stare him down, or rather up. “I went through something similar with Sam when he first came back. Let me help you.”

He nods, continuing to eat. “Do you have a hairbrush?” You ask.

“In the drawer.” He points to his nightstand. You nod, retrieving it.

“Finish your pancakes.” It doesn’t take him long. The empty plate forgotten on the dresser is not your priority.

“Sit.” You gesture to the place in front of you, between your legs.

Your fingers find his hair before the brush. Combing through it lightly, you scrap his scalp, only a bit. His shoulders relax after a few minutes. They relax even more as you use the brush. Minutes, hours, whatever pass, and he is leaning back unconsciously. Without thinking, you pull him down. His head now rested on your chest, arms encircling his. His breathing is even, eyes closed as his face is turned up to the ceiling.

“Sleep Bucky.”

It doesn’t take long before he does. It doesn’t take long before you follow him.

You wake to his head buried in your chest, and your hands woven into his hair. His breathing is the most even you have heard, even more than when he is ‘relaxed’ with everyone. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his soft hair, the feeling cathartic even for you. It doesn’t even look like he moved, except for the fact that it is his face and the back of his head resting against you.

Looking at the clock beside his bed, you notice the time. Four hours. We’ve been asleep for four hours. Better than two, you surmise, but six would have been better. You can feel him begin to stir and hope he doesn’t overreact at the position.

“Bucky?”

“Huh?” He groans. The arms that are around your waist tighten, the vibranium now almost warm against the sliver of skin between your shorts and shirt.

“We probably need to get up.” You answer his muffled and incomprehensible question.

“Why?” Raspy, that’s what you’d call his voice, and despite your best efforts, it sends shivers down your spine.

“We’ve both been asleep for four hours.” You pause. “And I have to pee.”

He nods, barely, before lifting his head and looking around. The realization of where he has been hits him and his eyes go wide. You lock your arms, holding him tighter so he can’t move. “Bucky. It’s fine. Nothing happened. You were sleeping. I was sleeping.”

“Right.” You let go of him, and he stumbles off of you. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

~

For a few weeks the nightmares continued. Each time you would hesitantly go to him. You knew from Steve that he could get violent, not on purpose, but because he doesn’t know where he is. He never so much as laid a hand on you.

Every night it was the same. You would hear his groans, the sad and heartbreaking sounds of a broken man trying to heal, and his subconscious not letting him. You would open the door and be met with his hunched over and shaking figure, face usually wet with tears he never admits to. And every night, you would end up laying with him like that first day. And ever morning, you would wake up just as you did the first.

However, one seriously bad week had you questioning your tactics. Night after night, it would happen. Not once was there a break. Even with your nightly visits, he looked exhausted and haggard. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Everyone else had left the kitchen, leaving the two of you to clean up again.

“Why don’t I just stay with you tonight? It might help.” He stiffens at your suggestion.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You haven’t hurt me yet. And I don’t believe you will.” He sends you a pleading look. “Even if you do, it won’t be consciously.”

After a few choice words and more persuading on your part, he relents.

That night, you crawl into bed with him, back against his chest, and his arm slung around your waist. A new position, but not one any less comforting. His warm breath on the back of your neck almost tickles, but you don’t move. “Sleep Bucky.”

“G’night [Y/N].”

You are startled awake when you hear a loud bang from his bathroom. Bucky is no longer beside you, his side of them bed cold. Hearing a strangled sob, you jump up. “Bucky!”

The sight of him, curled into his self on the shower floor, water that is far too hot scalding his back, almost breaks you. “Bucky look at me.” You plead.

He does, his eyes rimmed with red and all but hollow. “I killed you.” You don’t interrupt him.

“I killed you. The one person that doesn’t want me to put on a brave face. I still had my other arm, and it was wrapped around your throat. You died.” At every word another tear falls from each of you.

Without thinking, you get into the shower with him, cooling the water down some. You take his flesh hand and put it against your heat. “Bucky. I’m here. I’m real. You didn’t kill me.” The shakiness of both your breathing is the only sound except for the water.

“But I could’ve.”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t touch me.” You hand squeezes his and he nods. Let’s get you out of your wet clothes and cleaned up okay?”

Again, he only nods, but he allows you to strip him of his soaked shirt and pants. You do the same. Standing with him, naked, you hug him tighter than normal. “It’s okay.” For once, the feeling of his soap doesn’t bother him. The grime from his hair that he hasn’t washed in too long, falls down the drain as you massage his head.

“Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Dry, and somewhat clothed, you climb back in bed with him. Only this time, you are wrapped around him, his head in your chest once again.

~

Months of the same pass. The nights spent laying in one of your beds. The hot showers that calm him when he wakes from a particularly bad nightmare. But they are getting better. The time he wakes up fewer. The nights that he has to relive or watch a new horror in his dreams are less. Still, you sleep next to him. Neither one of you know how to fall asleep without each other now. The feeling of him beside you, calming in a way you never expected.

Soon you find yourself laying gentle kisses on the top of his head when you think he’s asleep. Most times, he isn’t.

~

After almost a year, you are family to everyone. And you have accepted that you aren’t going to be moving, even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. The weekly meals are the highlight of everyone’s week. Your spaghetti is still their favorite, however, you’ve taken to making six pounds and at least thirty meatballs now.

No one comments on the sleeping arrangements between you and Bucky. Neither of you really talk about it either. It just is. Sam threw a hissy fit when he saw the first time, but has grown to accept it, begrudgingly.

Either way, it continues. Although, you feel as if there is a new element of intimacy to it. The gentle kisses on his head aren’t just once in a while, they are every night. The soft caresses of his back as he hugs you tight, are frequent. The line of friends and more than is blurred.

~

On the one-year anniversary of that first meal, you fix spaghetti again. As everyone is cleaning up, you and Bucky in the kitchen, you notice the change.

He is happier. He looks better, more whole. The light that you knew was there before is back in his eyes. As he hands you a dish to dry, his eyes meet yours. The bright blue far less grey now. The smile he sends your way crashes over your senses. You almost crumble.

You are in love with Bucky.

~

That night, the dynamic changed. The purely platonic feeling of sleeping with him has charged energy. The kiss you give to the top of his head, shampoo still smelling heavenly, isn’t cold. It’s warm, it has sparks.

Long after he falls asleep you are still awake, hands running through his hair. Lifting yourself up, you press your lips to his cheek, lingering a bit too long.

“I love you.”

Content, you lay your head against his chest and listen to the beating of his heart. A beat you should have noticed was far too erratic to be asleep.

Long after you are asleep, he runs his own fingers through your hair. Gently, he places an identical kiss to your cheek.

“I love you too.”

He doesn’t notice the slight change in your breathing, even if he should. Because no matter how either one of you put it, you both confessed your love to someone you thought asleep.

~

The next day is awkward, neither one of you sure how to act around the other after the late-night confession you both thought one sided. The words you whispered to each other are now known and yet unknown to the other.

The night when you climb into bed beside him it feels different. Something feels wrong; like the soft-spoken confessions altered the comforting embrace from before.

Gathering all your courage, you speak. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” His voice hitches. He knows exactly what you are talking about.

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me too?” This time, it is your voice that cracks. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Your nerves getting the best of you, you move to roll over.

“Yes.” He holds you in place, not allowing you to move away from him. “Yes I meant it.”

“I meant it too.” The silent tears of happiness refuse to fall as he looks at you.

He nods before pulling you impossibly closer. “Good.” He places a gentle kiss atop your head, one so like the ones you did countless nights before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~

Despite the half-asleep and fully awake confessions to one another, not much pans out. The physicality of your relationship doesn’t change much. A few soft touches here, a few brushes there, but no kisses. Not yet. Not even in private.

“Bucky.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss me.” You didn’t dare say it before you entered the sanctity of his room. Didn’t dare disrupt the delicate balance in place.

He doesn’t move. You don’t say it again. “What is holding you back?”

“I still feel like this is a dream.” He looks at you. “If I kiss you, I might wake up.”

Stepping closer, you place your hands on his shoulders. “This isn’t a dream Bucky.”

“But what if it is! What if th-” You don’t let him finish. Cutting him off, you gently press your lips to his, waiting for him respond, to react.

It takes him a while. But the long seconds pass when he cradles your head in his hands and pulls you closer. The silent and urging press of his lips against yours, not moving, but there, makes you melt. You pull away to breathe.

“Not a dream.” You gasp, still trying to get air. He shakes his head, forehead resting against yours.

“No. It’s not.” You can’t answer him before he kisses you again, this time his lips more urgent than before. You respond in kind. The messy movement of lips against lips, the tethering clutches of shoulders and hair, connecting you and Bucky in ways you had only hoped for.

When his tongue slips out and catches your bottom lip, you actually moan, granting him enough room to slip into your mouth. The languid petting of tongues, of mouths, of hands, or hair, is enough to set you on fire.

He pulls away first. “Doll, if I don’t stop I won’t.” You look into his eyes and see the silent plea there. Not yet.

“Let’s get ready for bed.”

~

A couple weeks pass. The kissing getting more and more intense. The public display’s getting braver. No one says anything, except Sam and Steve. Both of whom are the ever-vocal cheerleaders and mockingbirds.

With your hands in his hair, straddling his lap, and his hands on your hips, holding you close, you don’t hear the two men come in. The press against him numbs your mind. The feeling of his fingers running along your sides, almost tickling you if it wasn’t so arousing. His tongue against your own in tandem with your own fingers in his hair is enough to make you moan obscenely.

“Get a room will you.” Sam huffs, silently happy for his friend and the man he is accepting as one.

You pull away from Bucky, both of your eyes wide as you take in the position and the audience. “You were supposed to be gone all night!” You say, almost yelling at the laughing duo while Bucky still rubs circles into your sides.

“Change of plans.” Steve looks at both of you. “Although, it seems as if you two might want to change yours too.”

Resting your head against Bucky’s, you look into his eyes and start to laugh. Neither of you can hold it in; the laughter for the situation, the laughter for the sheer acceptance of your best-friends, and the laughter for the utter love between the two of you.

You’re still laughing as he picks you up and carries you to his room. A room that is more a joint space than his now.

You’ve barely stopped when he kisses you goodnight and the two you fall into a peaceful oblivion.

~

“You’ve never built a blanket fort!” You yell at him in disbelief.

“I grew up in the Depression [Y/N], Steve and I were a little busy trying not freeze to death.”

“Right.” You look at him, mischief in your eyes. “Want to learn?”

He looks at the floor, almost like a kicked puppy. “Yes.” You break out into a smile.

“Alright, grab some dining chairs while I get the blankets!”

A half-hour later, and one marvelous blanket fort later, you and Bucky are happily watching some old movie he insisted you watch. “Why did you want to see this again?”

“I used to love it as a kid.” He explains, a scowl on his face. “Now though. I don’t see the appeal. This is awful!”

“Yeah Bucky, it’s pretty bad.”

“I have an idea of what could make it better.” His eyes move to yours, a different brand of mischief dancing within them.  

“Do you now?” You mock as he leans closer, breath fanning your face. Mint. I love mint.

“Yeah.” He’s holding you, arms wrapped around you, hands splayed on your back and he kisses you with a new urgency. The hot wet kisses of a few nights ago are nothing compared to the absolute wreaking ones of today. The warmth and solitude provide within the blankets cause a shiver to run up and down your spine, and he deepens it when you moan a little.

The heated and charged air causes all reason to go out of your mind. The only thing you know is Bucky. The sound of the television long forgotten as he lays you back and starts to trail kisses down your neck. Mouth feverishly moving in tandem with your breathing, he slips his hand, his flesh hand, under your shirt and lets it rest on the skin just below your breasts.

“Bucky.” You gasp as he kisses and licks your collar bone.

“Yeah?” His mumbles, mouth never leaving you.

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.” Before you can say anything else, he kisses you again, tongue harshly slipping into your mouth. You let out a sheer pornographic moan.

Hands in his hair, you feel him pull downward, slipping your shirt up and over your head. The cups of your bra doing nothing to hide the hardening peaks. As his hands cautiously palm your breasts you can’t help but arch into his touch. You don’t know what sound you make, but it spurs him on. Trailing another round of kissing back down your stomach, he reaches the waistband of your pants.

“May I?”

“Yes.” You know your voice sounds breathy and needy, but at this point you don’t care.

He pulls down your sweats gently, far too gently if you had anything to say about it, but you don’t. You can’t as he trails his cold metal fingers up your thigh and stops just short of where you know you want him and where he wants to be.

“Bucky.” You lift your head and look at his smirk from his position between your legs. “Do something.”

“Of course.” He mocks before leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses where his fingers just were.

He purposefully doesn’t touch your clothed core, instead slipping back up and gently removing your bra before latching on. A gentle suck and an even gentler lick along with the light touch of his fingers sends you into a haze. The months of waiting was all foreplay you guess. No one could possibly be this responsive. Yet you are. You are as his licks, sucks, and pulls harder. The noises coming from your mouth, your throat, pornographic.

His flesh hand, slipping down from your head, his metal one still working your breast, reaches your panties. A deft finger slipping inside the waistband and tugging as he trails another set of kisses downward. Lips barely brushing over the hood hiding your aching clit sends you keening. His finger slowly sliding up and down the slit of you, wet and ready even if he refuses to believe it. Slow and small kitten licks at your sensitive nub is all it takes before you are grasping his hair and tugging, causing him to moan into you.

“Oh god.” Another breathy moan and another lick. “Bucky.” A harsher suck and you are done for. He feels your release on his chin, his stubble scraping the inside your thigh in a delicious burn.

“I need you.” You manage to gasp out as he slips a finger inside your clenching walls. A few more languid thrusts of his fingers and he is climbing atop you. Pants and shirt long forgotten on the floor next to yours.

“Are you sure?” He asks in between chaste kisses that have no place where you are.

“Never been surer of anything in my life.” He nods.

Slowly, almost painfully slow, he slips himself inside your velvet walls. A low throaty moan comes out of his gaping mouth. A mouth you pull down to your own as he bottoms out. Hips against hips; chest against chest; and mouth against mouth, he starts to move. The rhythmic push and pull of his hips with the sheer fullness and friction against that one spot that has you moaning louder than you thought possible is all you know.

Shallow thrusts give way to long and harder ones after a while, both of you in a sex filled haze. Words of promises neither one of you know, oh gods and names are thrown about as he shifts you to sit on his lap. You, hands on his shoulders, his hands on your hips, thrusts caused by one of you and both at the same time send you into a moaning mess. His lips on your neck, and you know there will be a mark there later, but now you don’t care.

You don’t care about anything at this moment but the two of you, so blissfully unaware of anything but the push and pull, the shallow and deep, and moans caused by one another. Minutes or hours, you don’t know, pass and you can feel yourself edge closer and closer to the familiar feeling of letting go. You can feel Bucky getting closer too. Leaning down and grabbing his face you kiss him like your life depends on it as you move faster. The delicious angle causing him to brush that spot just right.

Lips still attached to his you moan as you cum. The high sending him into oblivion not long after you. Both of you still riding out your climax as you rest. Sweat and slick sticking to your skin, you look him in the eye and your heart almost bursts.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[raziroo]

Karma | The Marauders

[Prologue]

Karma was a thirty-three-year-old woman living in Lucknow, India, in the year 1995. Aromas of hot eggplant curry and rice wafted throughout the adequately sized apartment that the female owned, as she chopped cucumbers and tomatoes for salad. Noticing the cooker whistle go off as steam shot up, she turned the gas knob so that the heat would go from high to simmering. Although she was tired, she still needed to cook the food; Mrs. Aggarwal, the humble widow who lived in the apartment just beside hers had caught a particularly severe fever. The elderly woman's neighbours all took chances in the week to cook and serve her food, even when she'd insisted no. The warm woman's house smelled of cinnamon and milky tea always, and it felt like home to each person who lived nearby her house.

The voice of Kumar Sanu, a singer who was, at that time ruling Indian music, was echoing in the house, mixing with the shouts and laughter of the children playing in the streets. It was mid-august, and so the evenings were painfully humid. Currently, though, it was afternoon, 2 o' clock precisely, and so it wasn't that much of a bother. The woman finally started packing the food in a steel container, the curry, rice and salad all in separate containers.

Grabbing her thin stole and wrapping it around herself, slipping on her slippers, the woman walked to Mrs. Aggarwal's apartment. The door, as always, was open, and with a knock, Karma went in. Finding the elderly woman sat on her couch, with a half-knitted sweater in her lap, Karma couldn't help but smile. Spotting the younger one, Mrs. Aggarwal tried to waddle to her; she was promptly stopped.

Quickly placing the food on the centre table, she gently pushed Mrs. Aggarwal back on the couch. The elderly woman sighed.

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, I told you I could manage it, you have other work to attend to-"

"It's fine, Mrs. Aggarwal. I've told you so many times, it's always ok. Now stop worrying, I've brought your favourite eggplant-"

Just then, through the open window, a rugged-looking tawny owl flew in, landing swiftly on the table. Karma's eyes widened. It couldn't be... But the letter bound around the bird's foot said something else entirely. In a panic-influenced impulsive decision, the woman picked up the owl, which then wildly started flapping its wings and pecking her arms, and with a stammering goodbye, Karma had crossed both hers and Mrs. Aggarwal's thresholds, and glancing around to make sure there was no way the owl could escape, she let the poor bird go. The sheesham door had been promptly shut, and the woman fell against it. Why was this happening? Why had the stupid bird come there? And how did it even find her home?

Shaking her head so as to dispel all these thoughts, she strutted to the owl, who was now quietly perched on the arm of a cream sofa. Fumbling fingers pulled away the letter, and as soon as that happened, the owl flew away to sit on the opposite arm instead.

Not even bothering to get up from the floor, the letter was opened, and a pair of dark eyes smoothly glided over the thin, slanting handwriting, which the woman recognized, but so desperately wanted to forget.

A shaky breath was exhaled once the letter was over, which was then crushed, and as a second thought, set fire to, with a match. Just because it'd been read didn't mean it had to be listened to.

. . . . .

The bed that she lay in made a squeaky noise that echoed into the silent night each time Karma moved, and so there was a lot of noise. Streetlights illuminated the street, and a couple beams fell in the dark-haired woman's room.

The cotton sheet that she lay under suddenly seemed too heavy, and so it was thrown off. The ceiling fan, even at a speed of 4, couldn't move fast enough. She was sweating, uneasy, and anxious. The letter just wouldn't leave her mind, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking; not since the moment she'd touched the owl. Oh, that wretched owl, she should've known it was bad news, should've stabbed it or something, just shouldn't have read the letter.

Memories of a past meant to be forgotten had ignited inside of her. Not that they'd ever been put out, they were simmering, just below the surface. She wondered if she should talk to Paarth. Probably not. The man, who was another neighbour, had already helped her more than she felt comfortable with. She was sure his wife would spontaneously combust if she saw Karma once again, with all the dirty looks and haughty glances she gave Karma whenever said woman spotted Paarth and his wife holding hands.

Each second seemed to awaken Karma even more, rather than helping her sleep. It was nasty.

. . . . .

Four days had passed, and no new letter had arrived, so it was safe to say Karma was relieved.

It seemed relief had come a tad too soon, for the very same morning, at precisely 11:07 a.m., each cabinet or container the woman opened, there would be a parchment with black ink on it. The hot case? Yes. The sugar jar? Yes. The cutlery drawer? Yes. The water bottle? Yes.

After burning nine letters, the woman finally opened the tenth one. This one had no real letter, just an address that was familiar, but painfully so, and the same thin, slanted writing.

Well, she knew the next move would be much more anxiety-giving, and so Karma surrendered. She'd go, but for just a chat.

. . . . .

So, at 6:40 next morning, Karma had decided was the official time for visiting. Arrangements had been made, and the time had been chosen quite wisely.

The neighbours were all asleep, and so, decked out in a black kurta and jeans, a pair that seemed to bring her luck, the woman grabbed her stole, ran her hands through her hair, and boom, Karma looked dazzling. (Sure, she'd thought, snorting.)

The slip containing the address had been burned the previous day, but the contents had been brandished into Karma's brain.

Locking the door as she exited, the house keys were pushed inside the jeans pocket, and apparition had been carried out behind a particularly large trash bin.

CRACK!

Oh no. Oh no. Jesus, this was a bad decision, she shouldn't have done this. Her hands were shaking badly, her head seemed to be under an elephant, and her stomach was doing somersaults.

5 minutes later, she was calm enough to walk to the pavement in front of houses number eleven and thirteen, and focused on what was written on the letter.

'Number twelve, Grimmauld Place.'

Thankfully, it was night even in London, a place really far away from Lucknow, so no one noticed the house that magically appeared between eleven and thirteen.

Getting in wasn't difficult, she knew how to. What she'd forgotten, however, was the fact that India's time was five hours ahead of where she was currently, and so it was... well, really early. The house was deathly silent, and Karma, in no way, wanted to break it. Not now, at least. The musty, damp, and overall stale smell of the corridor did nothing to decrease the worries in Karma's mind, and the fact that just two steps in, a screech that very well made Karma's heart jump out of her mouth, was quite a deal breaker.

Damn it, Walburga.

Just a beat passed, and then there was total chaos. The dark-haired woman had her hands over her ears, screams and shouts echoed throughout the house, and Karma cringed. Where was the good luck her clothes had supposed to bring?! She didn't even realize amidst all the pandemonium, that she had also, albeit unconsciously, begun participating in the scream fest that this was.

"STAINS OF DISHONOUR, HALF-BREED FILTH, POLLUTING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS, MUDBLOODS, DISCRACES-!"

"-WALBURGA, SHUT UP!"

"-MUDBLOOD! MUDBLOOD! IN MY HOUSE! IN MY ANCESTORS' HOUSE! IN SLYTHE-!"

"SHUT UP, YOU GOTHIC BANSHEE FROM THE VICTORIAN ERA!"

"YOU DARE CALL ME THAT, FILTHY MUDBLOOD!"

"STOP SCREAMING! IT'S THE GODDAMNED MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, YOU HEARTLESS INFERIUS!"

"SCANDALS! FILTH! HALF-BREED DISGRACES-!"

"-SHUT UP, YOU PUREBLOOD MANIAC BI-!"

Just before she could complete her sentence, two redheads, identical and stocky, and eerily similar to a certain pair of Prewetts, had already pulled the moth-eaten cloth that Karma had only just noticed, over the painting. The following silence was deafening.

There seemed to be a long 'beeeeeeeeeeeeep', for lack of better words, that was ringing in her years, and she didn't like it. Bringing her wildly shaking hands in front of her face, Karma clenched them into the tightest fists she could.

The silence in the room was broken by a groggy, husky, familiar voice.

"Karma?"

Sirius.

'No one's looking out for us. Not for the Slytherins.'

[just-a-spark]

The Before, and The After Part 1

A Knives Out Story

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, sexual content (This chapter is tame, but in the future)

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family- a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events before, and after, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

Elizabeth Stevens fidgeted in her chair as Detective Elliott stood across from her, whispering with an officer named Trooper Wagner. She pulled her thick red hair over her shoulder, and the soft waves cascaded over her like a river of blood. She had the deep color of red that looked almost unnatural against her pale, freckled skin. Her lips were painted the same color of her locks, and the pout she sported emphasized how plump they looked.

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to get the men’s attention, “Are you two going to question me or not? I have places I need to be.”

Trooper Wagner faced her and smiled weakly, and the woman tried to shrink back into her chair at the attention, “I’m so sorry ma’am. We’ll get started in a moment. Where do you need to be exactly?”

Elizabeth paled a little, not expecting him to ask her about her personal life, “Uh, I have a doctor’s appointment.” She rested her left hand on her stomach, her massive diamond shimmering in the fluorescent lights of the police station.

Elliott pulled out the chair across from her, and she cringed as its legs scraped against the floor, “Well, why don’t we get started then. Your husband is Phillip Stevens, correct? His father is in charge of the Thrombey Estate.” Elliott read from a file and Elizabeth nodded, “I’m assuming that is how you have come to know the Thrombey clan so well?”

“Well...” Elizabeth trailed off and looked to the back wall. She swallowed and took a deep breath, but as the memories started flooding back she smiled, “Not exactly.” Elliott smirked at her and she crossed one muscular leg over the other and leaned back in her chair, “The Thrombeys are the reason I met my husband, not the other way around.”

“Mrs. Stevens, are you aware of the reasoning behind your visit with us today?” Trooper Wagner asked from the back wall.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply and took a drink of her water, “Harlan Thrombey committed suicide a few days ago. I’m guessing you want to question me about it?”

“Your father-in-law suggested it. He said you and Harlan were close.” Detective Elliot pressed and Elizabeth bit her bottom lip nervously. Elliott and Wagner shared a confused glance, then Elliott turned back to Elizabeth, “Perhaps he was wrong?”

“No.” Elizabeth said quietly, finally looking the detective in the eye, “I knew Harlan very well. I knew all of them very well.”

“Knew? Or know?” Wagner clarified.

Elizabeth shifted in her chair, twisting her mouth to the side and looking down, “My relationship with Harlan was strained in the end, that rippled down to the rest of the family. Harlan was the center of their universe, without him, they’ll self destruct.”

                                             Three Years Earlier

Meg Thrombey drove down the dirt road toward her grandfather’s mansion a little too fast, but they were running late for her family’s Harvest Fest picnic, and her Aunt Linda wouldn’t be pleased about it.

“Listen, you aren’t ready for my family, but I appreciate you keeping me company.” Meg laughed as her “Big Sister” from Amherst College pulled her Jimmy Choo heels off the dash.

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” Elizabeth Reynolds chuckled, looking out the window at the beautiful woods. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Just wait until you see it. His house is so creepy, but you’re gonna love it.” Meg promised as they pulled up to a metal gate. After waiting a moment, the groundskeeper let Meg in and she continued on her way, looking at her watch and swearing under her breath, “We were supposed to be here an hour ago. My family takes these stupid holiday celebrations way too seriously.”

“It’ll be fine. Better late than never. I’ll charm them by being my starstruck self.” Elizabeth bat her eyelashes at Meg and the younger girl rolled her eyes. “Of all the little sisters I could get for my last year, I can’t believe I got my favorite author’s granddaughter. What are the odds?”

“You picked me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe I saw the last name and took a chance. I was curious.” Meg looked over at the stunning redhead and she added, “I think it turned out rather well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Meg grumbled, but Elizabeth just beamed as they approached a massive dark house.

“Holy shit.” Elizabeth mumbled as she leaned forward to get a better look. “It looks like something out of one of his books.”

“Just wait until you see the inside. I bet he’d give you the whole tour if you asked him. None of us really give a shit.”

Elizabeth feigned surprise, but she knew Meg wasn’t interested in the source of her family’s wealth. If her relatives were the slightest bit like she had described, Elizabeth deduced they wouldn’t be interested in Harlan’s books either.

Meg parked her car behind a slew of other chic vehicles, and Elizabeth let out a wolf whistle, “Damn, is your whole family successful?”

“No, my grandfather just gives everyone money.” Meg deadpanned, turning the key and pulling it from the ignition before tossing it into her bag. “Aunt Linda owns her own real estate company, Uncle Walt runs Grandpa’s publishing company.”

“So they are also super successful. Got it. Your idea of unsuccessful is not making ten million in royalties every year.” Elizabeth teased, fluffing out her thick bangs. “So what do I need to know before I go in?”

“Uncle Walt is intense, Uncle Richard is sleazy, my cousin Jacob is probably going to kill someone someday, but it’s okay, because he’s white and upper middle class.” Elizabeth snorted, then covered her mouth, knowing it wasn’t funny. Meg took a deep breath and continued, “My grandfather is going to be your best friend, and his nurse Marta is basically family. Aunt Linda is rigid but Aunt Donna doesn’t have a personality, so they kind of balance out. You might see my Great Nana, but she doesn’t talk, so don’t worry about her. And you know my mom of course.”

“Yes, love Joni.” Elizabeth hummed through her smile, “Is that everyone?”

“Everyone who’s going to show up.” Meg retorted, pushing open her door, then looking over her shoulder, “If it gets to be too much, say you need to use the bathroom. Text me and I’ll come rescue you.”

Elizabeth pushed open her own door and swung out, looking over the roof and calling, “I think I’ll be okay. I’m an adult.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Meg sing-songed as she led Elizabeth up to the front door. As she pushed it open she called loudly, “Hey, sorry we’re late!”

“About damn time you showed up!” A man’s voice called from farther in the mansion.

“That would be Walt.” Meg mumbled as a mousy looking man with a cane came around the corner. Meg gave a short wave and walked toward him, casually gesturing to her friend, “This is Lizzie. She’s my Big Sister from college. She’s a big fan of Grandpa’s books.”

“Is that so?” Walt asked as he looked Elizabeth up and down with a grin, “Well I run the publishing company. We’re hoping to bring the books to the big screen in the next couple of years. You’d like that, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. As long as they were done well. There’s nothing worse than a bad book to movie transition.” Elizabeth looked over her shoulder uncomfortably as she saw Meg’s mother walk into the room, “Oh, hi Joni!”

“Hiii Lizzie, how are you, honey?” Joni slurred as she wrapped the girl in an awkward, one armed hug. She held out her wine glass to the side and swayed a little as she pulled away, “I’m so glad you could join us today! Come on, let me introduce you to everyone-”

“That’s really not necessary Mom, I’m sure she doesn’t need to- okay.” Meg was ignored and Joni steered Lizzie toward Harlan’s study, where the author was speaking with his eldest daughter.

Lizzie’s eyes widened a little when Harlan Thrombey, the Harlan Thrombey, looked up at her with a smile. Joni shoved Lizzie forward, and the redhead was suddenly very aware that Meg hadn’t joined her, “Hi Dad, this is Lizzie, she’s Meg’s friend from Amherst. She’s part of the Big Sister program for the underclassmen.”

“Nice to meet you Lizzie.” Harlan said as he reached out and shook her hand, “This is my daughter, Linda, and my new nurse, Marta.” He gestured to a small Latina woman who waved shyly from the chair she was sitting in, filling a syringe with medicine for the older man.

“Dad, Lizzie is such a huge fan of your books. I’m sure she’d love to chat with you about them. She just couldn’t stop gushing about you when I met her during Welcome Weekend.” Joni giggled until she drowned herself out by downing her wine, “I’m going to get a refill. Linda, you want anything? Lizzie? Dad?”

“No, I think we’re fine. Thank you.” Linda said sharply with a tight lipped smile. She tilted her head to study the pale girl, but didn’t say anything for a long moment before asking, “Are you old enough to drink?”

“I’m twenty three.” Lizzie answered softly, playing with the ends of her hair and waiting to see if the white-haired businesswoman would interrogate her further.

Linda stared up at her from her spot perched on the desk, and her smile grew a little, “What do you study?”

“Writing. I’d like to be author someday.”

Linda turned to Harlan with a knowing smile, but his smirk didn’t change, “We still have some time before lunch is ready. I’ll leave you two to talk then.” Linda stood and left Harlan’s study, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Would you like me to leave as well, Mr. Thrombey?” The nurse asked, but Harlan just shook his head and squished his face, disapproving of her suggestion.

“Call me Harlan, Marta, we’ve talked about this. And no, you can stay, she can stay, right, Lizzie?”

“Of course, I- yeah, I’m just really honored to meet you!” Lizzie gushed as she took a seat across from Harlan, “I’m such a huge fan! The Needle Game is what made me want to go into writing... the twist in the end, where the body had been stored in the luggage compartment right below them the whole time. Your writing was beyond brilliant.”

Harlan chuckled as Marta smiled softly, carefully inserting the needle into the man’s lower arm. “Well, I appreciate that, Lizzie. What do you consider my weakest work?”

“Excuse me?” She asked abruptly, turning back to Harlan after studying the wooden figurines emerging from his study walls. Her mouth hung open for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “I think they are all wonderful...”

“But I want to know which one you think is the weakest.” Harlan challenged and Lizzie huffed, drawing her brows in frustration. Harlan just smiled and leaned his arm on his desk to get closer to her, “I want your honest opinion, as a fan, because an author is only as good as his worst work.”

“If I had to choose, and I hate that you’re making me,” Lizzie looked past Harlan out his study window at the sprawling grounds beyond, “I guess I’d say Nick of Time. I didn’t feel it was realistic. The writing was great, but the plot was contrived. I don’t believe Maggie would kill Nick in the end, after everything they went through.”

“But she wasn’t happy.” Harlan argued, holding the young woman’s gaze, “You would have written her as a martyr?”

“Yes.” Lizzie answered boldly, her smile growing, “I think it would have made the ending more devastating. That she murdered her in-laws but in the end she was still trapped.”

Harlan nodded thoughtfully, taking her opinion to heart, “Interesting. That’s why I asked.”

“I have a lot of thoughts. I wrote a lot of book reports.” Lizzie retorted, looking to Marta as the woman stood to leave the room, “I should probably head back out. Meg’s going to wonder where I’ve gone.”

“Go explore the house. I’ll give you a proper tour later in the day.” Harlan promised and Lizzie took that as her cue to leave.

When she opened the door, she practically walked into a brick wall of a man: tall, dark, and terribly handsome with an ugly scowl painted across his perfect face.

“Who the hell are you?” He snapped as he shrugged out of his jacket and handed it off to Lizzie, “Take care of this for me, will you?”

“I don’t work here.” Lizzie stammered, completely in shock as the man shoved past her. Her shock turned to anger and she dropped the brown trench coat on the floor. “I’m not your maid.”

Lizzie turned on her Jimmy Choo heels and stormed off to find Meg down the hall with her family. “Hey, how did it- what happened?” Meg asked frantically as Lizzie huffed and simmered, looking back over her shoulder.

“Tall, dark hair, huge ass- jerk.” Lizzie caught herself and Joni swallowed down another glass of wine, raising it in recognition.

“Asshole honey, you met Ransom. He’s an asshole.”

“Sweetheart, what did he say to you?” Linda questioned, suddenly a hundred times softer than she’d been before.

Lizzie groaned, feeling the color drain from her face at all the attention she was receiving, “It’s fine, really. He just didn’t realize I was a guest.”

“Ransom!” Linda yelled and another blonde woman that Lizzie hadn’t met yet shrunk into the corner as Joni poured herself another glass. Linda looked to a man Lizzie guessed was her husband and whispered something in his ear before yelling again, “Ransom!”

“What?” He screamed back as he stormed into the room, holding his coat over his arm until his eyes fell on Lizzie. His scowl turned to a wicked grin and he scoffed, “Oh I’m sorry? Did I offend you? Here, let me pretend like I care.” Ransom strode toward Lizzie and she stood her ground, keeping her mouth shut as he stopped inches from her, staring down his sharp nose at her freckled face. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then dropped it and handed her his coat. “Now, can you take care of this for me? I’m going to get a drink.”

Linda and Richard chastised the man as he swept out of the room toward the kitchen while Joni yelled at the couple for raising such a terrible son. A frazzled woman in her forties scurried up to Lizzie and took Ransom’s jacket without a word, but Lizzie barely noticed.

She wasn’t sure if she was more confused or conflicted. She wanted to steer clear of that horrible man, but, part of her wanted to understand what made him tick.

[mintjamsblog]

Questions for writers! What drew or draws you to the main pairing you write for? What do you hope to achieve with your writing? What are some things you hope to improve about your writing this year? And finally, are there any misconceptions or unrealistic expectations readers have about you or your writing? Send this around to fellow writers!

QUESTIONS FOR WRITERS 

Oh, this made me think!! 

What drew or draws you to the main pairing you write for?

Well, Cillian Murphy’s cheekbones were probably the initial draw! But then just the whole Tommy Shelby beautiful, intelligent, tortured soul “thing.” I mean what’s not to love? He’s such a complex character and a lot of his demons resonate very close to home for me (mother’s suicide, PTSD, alcoholism, addiction, I grew up around all of that so, maybe weirdly, I feel quite drawn to write it). 

But most of all it was that ‘fix it’ mentality, just the desire to see someone understand Tommy and love him as he is! I was initially going to write Tommy and May (never did much like Grace) but then . . . I just fell in love with Alfie. He’s broken in his own, different way, not that he’d recognise it as such. I love that we know very little about him in canon, he’s a mystery, which is intriguing. He’s dishonest and a liar and out for himself, but underneath it has those deep thoughts and theories and a strange moral code which is . . . yeah, unique and interesting! I love characters that are ‘bad,’ that are hard to know and hard to love. No one is good all the time and that’s what keeps Alfie so interesting! He’s also the only other person I can think of whose intellect is a match for Tommy’s, and I think for Tommy to have any real intimacy with anyone that is a must. So, yeah, I guess I fell headlong into the slash after that! And of course, as you know, I’m here for Tommy handing control over to someone, and who else could make him do that?

What do you hope to achieve with your writing?

It started out that I just wanted to write things I wanted to read. At the time there were no other dom/sub fics around for this pairing and that’s what I wanted to read, so I wrote it! It’s been amazing to find that other people actually want to read it too, which is really motivating, and somehow (and I blame all those people who’ve commented and left kudos entirely) I have managed to crank out well over 120,000 words in seven months. I don’t really hope to achieve anything beyond indulging myself and maybe making people feel happy/sad/sexy for a few minutes! 

I love that buzz when one of my favourite writers posts something and I can’t wait to read it and then it stays with me for hours or days afterwards. When I’m doing something else entirely and flashes of writing come back to me and make me smile. Or just make me crave the next instalment! It makes me very, very happy when people tell me they feel excited about a new fic I’ve written (or that they’ve reread any of them). That makes me want to do better with each one (I cringe at some of the earlier ones already!)

What are some of the things you want to improve about your writing this year?

Everything!! Cutting back a bit, doing away with the unnecessary - words, adverbs, cliches. Better rhythm, variety, engaging all the senses. Yeah, everything!

I have a plan for a big, ongoing modern AU. I loved writing my Ink fic for the prompt fest, so it’ll be set in that kind of verse. I am trying to plan it (but I hate planning).

And I’m writing some non-fandom stuff too, in the real world. So time might be my biggest issue at the moment!

Are there any misconceptions or unrealistic expectations readers have about you or your writing?

Not that I know of! I’ve been very lucky not to get any flak for my writing (which surprises me given some of the content!) I’ve had several different people comment that they like my series “even though they’re not into BDSM/Dom/sub” because they like the relationship and the closeness and the intimacy conveyed. That always makes me happy, when people see that it’s more than just smut, it’s the intimacy/relationship that counts. (I mean I’m not trying to high-brow kid anyone, of course there’s smut!) In my AU they just have some particular methods they fall back on! Overall, the Tommy/Alfie fandom is really lovely and I’ve made some great friends and there are some amazing writers, so I’m very, very grateful. T&A is like this secret parallel universe I escape to whenever the real one gets a bit much! And it’s a very nice place to escape to, so I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. And just a huge, enormous THANK YOU to everyone who reads and comments and likes anything I do, it has honestly made me a happier person!

So, fellow writers and lovely people of the T&A world, same questions for you!!

@tinypinetrees @weeo @whentommymetalfie @cheekyblinders @boundinshallows @tommyplum @twistedrunes @vamillepudding

[lampd-intheface]

Sterling Silver

warnings: none

pairings: LAMP, heavy Prinxiety

author's note: this one's based off of a very popular tumblr post (kudos to you if you recognize it) but i can't seem to find who to credit for that? either way, i just really wanted to write smth smth for the vampire au since a lot of you really seemed to enjoy it

“Virgil, my darling, please. You're being unreasonable.”

As soon as the words left Roman's mouth, he already knew it was the wrong thing to say. Even Logan, who was merely observing from the couch, cringed at his mistake.

Virgil didn't just cringe. He scowled.

Roman was in deep trouble now. He could just tell that Virgil was much more upset now than he was before. Roman had a habit of being impulsive like that and, in these situations, he wished he would learn.

“Okay, I'm sorry for saying that. You're not being unreasonable at all, my sweet--” Roman moved to hug Virgil from behind before grimacing and quickly changing his mind.

What made him change his mind wasn't just the way Virgil cringed away from him (though, in normal circumstances, that would've been enough).

Wrapped around Virgil's waist was a clearly glistening chain of silver. It acted as Virgil's belt but Roman knew better. It wasn't just for holding up Virgil's pants. It was for repelling Roman.

It wasn't just the belt either. Virgil's fingers were covered in silver rings and his ears had silver studs. There was a choker around his neck decorated in silver spikes. He had even put in a silver lip ring.

Now, when exactly Virgil got his lip pierced, Roman didn't know. All he knew was Virgil looked good and Roman found himself hating the lip ring with a passion.

He couldn't even fathom where Virgil got all of these bonafide sterling silver jewelry. Did he just have all of this in stock for times like this? Or did he find a time to sneak out and buy all of them? Knowing Virgil and how stingy he was with money, it most likely wasn't the second option.

“Heya, honey bee, it's your turn to pick what we're gonna have for dinner.” Patton suddenly called from the kitchen, apparently oblivious to Roman and Virgil's current dilemma.

Virgil made eye contact for the first time in a while with Roman as he answered “Why not Italian?”

Roman made a soft whining noise in the back of his throat and Patton laughed “Oh, honey bee, you're so funny. You know we can't have that stuff!”

“Oh, I know.” Virgil drawled out, eyes still directly staring at Roman.

Patton, probably concerned, walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron, only to be stunned by Virgil's get-up “Virgil, honey, what's with… with uh… all of this?”

“Why don't you ask Roman?” Virgil crossed his arms and, as he cocked his hip, the belt at his waist jangled.

Patton, definitely much more concerned than before, turned to Roman who only groaned “It's all my fault.”

“Now, what's all your fault, Roman, darling?” Patton reached out and placed a gentle hand on Roman's shoulder.

“We were at the college because I had to pick Virgil up, you know.” Roman began to recall exactly how he got into this mess “I had overheard this girl telling her friend something or another about my dashing good looks.”

Logan and Virgil practically scoffed in unison.

Roman chose to ignore that, pouting all the while “In any case, you know how Virgil doesn't like it.”

Virgil looked a little embarrassed at that but it didn't lessen the rather sour expression on his face.

Patton just nodded, focused solely on Roman's retelling. Virgil had a habit of being self-conscious when it came to his vampire boyfriends. He had this odd notion that they were 'out of his league' and, whenever passerby mentioned it, Virgil grew self-deprecating.

“Well, I had thought a bold romantic gesture would help put my darling's troubled expression at ease!” Roman declared as if he found no problem with his plan.

Virgil's cheeks and his ears practically glowed red at this point. Though, if it was because he felt embarrassed by Roman or because he was recalling the events in his head, Roman couldn't tell.

Probably a healthy mix of both.

“If you had thought the entire thing through thoroughly, you would have come to the same conclusion as I.” Logan stated a-matter-of-factly “Our little starlight here does not favor any sort of bold or grand gesture.”

“Especially if it attracts a crowd of people!” Virgil added in agreement, his scowl less in anger and more in embarrassment. His hand even flew up to cover some of his face as if it would help cool it down.

“But, my love! I only meant to show them how dearly I love you and how the two of us are enamored with each other!” Roman protested, his hands forming fists as he pouted, a tone of passion in his voice.

“I would've even been okay with a kiss! Just a small kiss!” Virgil's other hand flew up as if covering his entire face would help with the situation at all “You didn't have to twirl and dip me before kissing me!”

Patton just nodded, grimacing a little “I see… And this prompted the get-up how?”

“Now he won't be able to make a scene anymore.” Virgil stated a-matter-of-factly, his tone almost copying Logan's from earlier as he lowered his hands.

Patton chuckled “Well, now, I understand where you're coming from, honey bee, but you do know you're keeping ol’ Logan and I away too.”

Virgil made a face that screamed ‘And what about it?’

Logan sensed this and turned to the group with his own little scowl “Wait, excuse me, are you stating that we must suffer through this as well?”

“I mean, we're all vampires here and you know silver stings the dickens outta vampires, Lo.” Patton gestured vaguely towards Virgil.

When Logan stared incredulously at Virgil, the human stuck his tongue out, revealing a tongue stud that gleamed silver.

“Okay, well, that seems a little excessive--” Patton tutted at the sight of the tongue stud and Roman made a dying grunting sort of noise in agreement.

When Virgil didn't seem to respond to that, Patton put on a thinking face “Well, now, I guess I'm about to get a little bit hurt here.”

There was a moment of silence as Virgil, Logan and Roman turned to Patton, all three of them with almost matching expressions of confusion. Virgil, though, looked more suspicious than confused.

“What do you mean?” Virgil finally broke the silence, his feet automatically taking a step back out of habit.

Patton didn't smirk but there was a gleam in his eyes “I haven't hugged you since last night! So, I'm gonna hug you right now.”

“Patton, I am covered in silver--” Virgil started to say but, when Patton inched forward, the words died in his throat.

“Patton, no--” Virgil took a step back and Patton, determined, took two steps forward.

The two took turns taking steps as Logan and Roman watched on. Eventually, though, the backs of Virgil's legs hit the coffee table and there was nowhere else to go.

At that point, he thought Patton would stop but, instead, the vampire kept inching forward.

Virgil seemed to catch on to what Patton was planning and groaned loudly, hastily putting his arms up as if to stop the vampire “Okay, okay, okay, chill! Let me take these off first!”

With little flourish, Virgil took off the chains and the rings and the piercings, letting all of it unceremoniously fall onto the coffee table.

Patton made a noise of happiness and dove right in, hugging Virgil tightly but not too tightly. He even spun Virgil in a little circle. Virgil just sighed, hugging back with a little less vigor.

It seemed his plan had backfired and, though he hadn't been all that serious about it, Virgil was still a little miffed at how easily Patton had--

His thoughts were interrupted by Roman who saddled up behind him, joining in the hug-fest. Virgil made a guttural noise of protest but didn't move away at all.

Logan seemed satisfied by the turn of events and turned back to his book.

“Logan, dear, you better drop that book and come over here.”

Logan, looking less satisfied than before, sighed and placed a bookmark into his novel before he, too, saddled up, further squishing Virgil.

It was Patton's turn to look satisfied.

“Now, honey bee, I'm sure Roman didn't mean to make a scene. You should be a little more lenient on him.” Patton gently reminded Virgil “He has a lotta love to give and sometimes he forgets where he is when he gets his fanciful ideas.”

“And, you, mister, you need to tone down your public displays of affection!” Patton peered up at Roman over Virgil's shoulder and Roman returned the look with his own sheepish one.

“Yes, of course, I apologise profusely.” Roman nodded, pressing a kiss to Virgil's temple and just, in general, basking in Virgil's warmth.

“Now, in all seriousness, what do you want for dinner, honey bee?”

“Anything's fine with me.” Virgil's tone was resigned but he seemed content enough with how their little spat had ended.

Patton looked glad and, reluctantly, he left Virgil's embrace to skip happily to the kitchen. That left Virgil secured tightly in Roman's and Logan's arms.

Logan hesitated for a second before pressing a kiss to the corner of Virgil's lips and another on Roman's cheeks “I must help Patton with dinner since it's been delayed.”

As soon as Logan had left, Roman sighed and his breath tickled as it blew past Virgil's ear “I deeply truly apologize. You know I hadn't meant to-- to-- to make you uncomfortable--”

Virgil rolled his eyes, leaning back into his dramatic vampire's hold “Okay, I get it, princey. It was embarrassing but I might've overreacted too. Just don't--”

“Do it again? Gladly.” Roman's voice sounded strong and sincere as he promised, his lips leaving small kisses against Virgil's temple and along Virgil's jaw before his face settled into the crook of Virgil's neck “I will leave the heavily amorous displays of affection for when we are in the privacy of our own home.”

Virgil snickered at that, content with the promise.

[carndriverrecords]

First Blog Post 3/20/20

Started CnD Records today. Feels Good.

Working on some diss tracks. Not sure if they see it coming - doesn’t matter either way.

Planning to release Car and Driver first real record this Friday 3/20/20. Driving Test Driver Fest 1. 

Self release first record - another 20 tracks next week. Compile top 10 - 15 for first release with other label - thinking Terrible, Kranky, blu ish label or Thrill Jockey. Citrus City a no-go for now. Maybe just keep building CnD records.

Be the middle man - take advantage of opportunities without sacrificing my bands’ (and those I represent) integrity.

Reach sleep destroyer.

Last night at Ted’s - great DJ set. Kidz bop remixes, Fancy. Crowd hated it. Ted disappointed we had to leave but it’s ok with everyone. Tall guy took aux right out of computer, have video. Started dancing - cucked everyone. Everyone thinks they’re the crazy charismatic guy. Am I actually? I think so. Syd thinks so. 

CnD Fest 2 , 3 , 4 at Purchase and beyond. Would like to play apartments, Scully’s den in BK (reach out) and Philly, DC etc.

Next voice memo album - 20 - 25 tracks right now. Better than the first. Danny said best album ever.

Working on “My oh Maia Reason Why” video - my favorite video I’ve ever seen. Getting good feedback.

Important to collab with certain SUNY people before I go:

Members of Lip Critic, Dawson, Neal, Gabe.

Send stuff back and forth with Joseph Kress. 

Need to write song about not sharing a stage w unstable Car and Driver - cost me 2 gigs. Ok because I had the police interaction that night. 

Things have been working out quite well. Syd is keeping me in check. Main priorities are keep the energy going while I can and make sure everyone around me is comfortable with me doing my thing, specifically mom, sofia.

Going to Only Angels tomorrow to collab with Alex.

Tues/Wed in RI with Zach Gorton. Need to see Nick Holcomb, Sofia, Will Orchard if he’s around. Riley in Boston? Would love to. 

Visit Dad soon on the way to Richmond, in a few weeks perhaps. Grandma Roberta etc. They have a BBQ place now - I bet it’s great. 

Follow up in the morning (3 hours from now) with wedding band, Kevin Daniels, drummer etc.

Film sunrise sessions at Purchase: My Ride’s Here, Splendid Isolation, Keep me in your heart, Studebaker, Cat’s in the Cradle, Everybody that you know. Don’t think twice, Boots of Spanish Leather, Someday my Prince, Teenage Dirtbag, Arthur (Woof Woof), Forget You, Signed Sealed Delivered, Superstition, The Promise, Hold me now (TT), Love on Top, Townes Van Zandt, 1-800 superstar, Evan Wright, Tom Petty, Blinded By the Light, Searching for a Heart, Mag Field’s, Barenaked Ladies, TMBG, Dolly Parton one sided love, Byrds, Beatles, Kinks, Stones, Parquet Courts, T Swift (Red, Way I loved you), Mitski, Sasami, Anything Could Happen, Beach House, He Needs Me, These Days, YLT, Beach Boys, Big Star Take Care, G500/Luna, Felt, Psychic TV, Shelia, BJM, Yellow Sarong, Over and Over, Hazel St, Heatherwood, Helicopter, He Would’ve Laughted, I wanna be your lover, The pump, Good enough (sleep destroyer), Them airs, BH (14, indian summer), help me scrape mucus off my brain), Beach Comber, DO YOUR THING, Icehead, Bobby, 1000 times, WIll Orchard, Bon Iver, MGMT, Tame impala, Instant Crush, etc. Art Vandelay, Quick Canal, Stereolab, Grouper, Broadcast, Animal Collective, Panda Bear, Bachelor Kisses, Cranberries, Cure, Pastels, MBV, I found a reason, pale blue eyes, Deerhoof, Gretel Alex G, Dancing w tears in my eyes, Elvis Costello, No age(things i did), Are ya ok, Maus, Ariel, R Stevie, Aphex Twin, Zomes, Vampire Weekend etc.

Bring Laptop for Beats on some and lyrics for all. 

Love life more than ever before. Music feels so good. Want to help, make amends, everything that moondog did. Don’t be homeless much longer.

Not sure if I like throbbing gristle - definitely like Psychic TV.

How savage should diss tracks be? Very? Match the severity of the person’s treatment of me/others. Aka - pretty bad for all except for Auto.

Listened to new Kanye today - 10x better and more influential than death grips. 

Realized today that i’ve spent my whole life wishing I was Kanye and now I am Kanye. Feels very good.

Everyone is gifted but internet makes us angst. 

I am mostly Camus right now - maybe more Kierkegaard soon. Religion and Terrence Malik. Still need to read books.

Order of Books: The graduate Portrait of the artist Consider Lobster Infinite Jest Pynchon Ulysses (At recommendation of American gamer association)

Syd is incredibly gifted. Want to help her feel comfortable doing art/work here in the chaos but also sort out the chaos for both of ours’ sake. I thrive in it, she tolerates well. Want to move to Riverdale still, maybe East Williamsburg with Backpack Chris. We’ll see about money. Philly perhaps, little too far. Jersey is good location but bad commute. Bad to RI. 

Visit RI and Boston Tues - Thurs. Sell Cigarettes at Concerts. Feels right.

Keep smoking for now - quit end of summer perhaps. 

Don’t have Corona Virus - glad we are not quarantined. Still be smart. Don’t expose mom regardless. Protect at ALL costs. 

Really though, why does Journee hate me? Write new track (Journee into forever nevermore not now not ever (Lou)) or Journee into SJW self righteous moral posturing (way too savage - maybe voice memo outro)

AR Kane album is incredible. Syd loves too. Sample everything.

Crazy - sound better at jazz than ever in my life. Exploring harmony - never practice. Teach free lessons all the time. Love the diminished scale. Might be best jazz guitarist to ever live. Time will tell. Would be cool long term. Prefer singing. 

Getting good at piano too.

I’m my favorite lyricist/comedian/actor.

Is maia right, acting isn’t hard? Weird they can’t act.

^Remember to delete^

Don’t share this on Facebook yet.

Why does Journee hate me so much? Just the Louis CK joke?

People who stay home and do nothing hate to see irreverent people doing things.

People like when you’re losing - don’t like to see you win.

^That makes me sound crazy.

F00D outsider might make me famous first.

Need to keep up with legal situation.

Hope mom and dad both live long. Call Syd, get something nice for everyone in family. Get weird jewel cases. Order jewelry from etsy. Post merch on bandcamp.

Finish album art soon. Music videos. Get better at animation etc. Pay Ben for his poster. Actually really good. Maybe album art? Duo album! Record in Wisconsin, release under his name. WIll success be good for Ben? I think so. Still can’t believe Liv told him I wasn’t ok. Wow - good content for lyrics. You truly cannot write this.

How will people react to diss tracks? Extremely negatively. Or no reaction. We shall see. Maybe no real names in the titles...... only on Oh my. 4 names in titles is too many. Don’t release Auto track. Maybe on Voice Memos. 

Track List: Good God Bed Head Rosa Reprise Oh My House Pop 1 skydive Pop 2 APhex GVO Pay 4 Take some Cherish Stars in F Are ya ok too bright Honeys Get to work Everybody That You Know Frost Bit BPC NYC New Age Heimet Helmet Deadbeat dads watermill for slitting bars romantic song david byrne Cinema study in cinema Brain ego Cherry doc marten Can’t liv w/o Venmo groceries Oh you like? Dancin DJ blues We are the State Farm robots Danny dorito is a dirty devito My funny valentine Zoomer blues The thing abt genres Blss Like minds ft dawson Lil toucha jazz Introducing car and driver The holy moment empire Ethics 101 - gma in the street Otto is sad I don’t know what it means! Operatic mellismatic Car and driver fest will be a success! Car and driver fest was a bust again! Cipha’s comedy corner Ryder Be gone evil atonal spirits!

Unreleased mental breakdown compilation ep:

I like all music! I’m a stupid pos Electric micro bike Get off your phone! John frusc Nice song Lap steel for 2 My masseuse advice Bed head wash sq Punchie John Maus yoyo interview Diminished  kinda thing

Build the NYC scene, w Blu ish, Evan, 1 800, sweet joseph, Comics Club, Dawson, Sloppy Jane, Wheatus,

See Jack Fortin in NYC soon. Either my event or his. 

Things are still good. Syd will be a great filmmaker. WIll maybe will end up with a dancer or a filmmaker - Probably not a musician. WIll have many loves. 

Things are good right now - hope they stay that way. 

Feel like Ezra Keonig - hopefully someone reads this one day and agrees. Different time in history and the internet - hope this is less cringe than Ezra’s blog , probably not. Ezra, if you’re reading this, sorry. See ya at Bernie’s rally. 

[jellybeanbeing]

Rereads I Ended Up Not Liking

I recently reread a lot of my old favorites and did not like a lot of them, unfortunately. Disclaimer: If you like these books, great. Keep loving them. They just didn’t work for me. I’m not trying to offend anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Okay, on to the list.

1. The First Time She Drowned by Kerry Kletter -

This is the one that I’m the most sad about because it was one of my favorites just last year. When I read it again this year, I didn’t really enjoy myself while reading. It’s kind of understandable because of the subject matter that is in this book, but honestly, it was just a story I couldn’t fully engage in anymore. I found many characters to be irritable and it made reading this not enjoyable. I still find the writing to be beautiful and poetic, and the storyline to be as equally as heartbreaking as I had first read it. *TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSUALT/ABUSE*

2. Shuffle, Repeat by Jen Klein -

This was one of my favorite romantic YA contemporary a few years back. I thought it was the cutest thing ever. Rereading it, I still think it’s really cute and I’m always on board with the hate to friends to lovers trope sooo. Anyways, the reason why I didn’t like it this time around was because the ending was so messy and some things were unnecessary. I didn’t really like the main character, June. She was just so mean and judgmental. There was this whole thing with June and her dad, and I honestly thought it could’ve done without it because it wasn’t really a big problem to the character or made her “develop.” I will say though, Oliver Flagg, I love him. He was just the best thing in this book.

3. Leftovers by Heather Waldorf -

I read this in middle school and really liked it. I was itching to reread it again and finally got my hands on a copy. Turns out, it’s not a book I really like anymore. I think it’s mostly because the book is so short. It’s a little less than 300 pages, and fitting in a whole story that needs a lot of things for it is hard. I did feel like there could’ve been more, and other things and characters that could’ve been delved into more. The pacing too, felt a little bit too fast for me. The love interest is kind of an asshole. I remember him being the sweetest thing ever, but what the hell was I thinking? I mean, he’s not that bad, but he just says things that make me so angry. *TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSUALT*

4. Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S King - 

I loved this book in middle school, and that was probably because it was so different from the books that I was reading at the time. Rereading it again, I can see why I liked it and why others would too, but it just ain’t it for me. I enjoyed it, but not as much as when I first read it. This is the oddball in this list because I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t like it. I found the book to be a bit bland for me. I didn’t necessarily love any characters, really. It is a very atmospheric and melancholic book. I cried the second time around when I read the ending so there is that.

5. All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven -

I read this when I was in middle school, and this was a time when I didn’t really understand mental health or anything of that subject. I read it and I loved it for probably all the wrong reasons. I reread it again a year ago for my health class because we were learning about mental health issues and it was alarming at how much I looked over when I first read it. I found parts of it to be very problematic and the romance to be very cringy. I know a lot of people can identify with this book and absolutely love it, and I don’t wanna take that away from anyone. If you loved it, that’s great. It just was not it for me.

6. The Start of Me and You by Emery Lord -

Now we get into DNF territory, even though I only have two books for you. You have no idea how disappointed I am that I didn’t like this book this time around. This was my absolute favorite romantic YA contemporary in middle school. I thought it was so cute, so sweet, and just amazing. BRO, I DNF’d this book around the first chapter. I was cringing so hard already, and I was not going to do that to myself, putting myself through that cringe-fest. The dialogue was already not my favorite, and then the characters were not even characters to me but more just tropes with names.

7. When We Collided by Emery Lord -

Again, I’m so sad that I didn’t like this book a second time. I will say though, it’s a bit better than The Start of Me and You, but not by that much. I got farther into the book, like halfway, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Everything was just so cringy. Vivi is your typical MPDG with a disorder. She’s not my favorite, but I don’t hate her. Jonah was meh. Not memorable for me. The thing about Emery Lord’s teenage characters is that they don’t feel or act like teenagers, and that bugs me a lot. This goes for The Start of Me and You as well. 

[chut-je-dors]

I think as a rec account owner you have the freedom to recommend fics that you actually like. If you don't agree with its content, don't feel obligated to do so. You are also responsible for spreading and not spreading this trend further. (BottomPaulfest was also fuel to fire in this case. Has it been an idea in another setting, it could have been ok. Idk.)

it’s not really.... uh, the way isee mclennonrecs, is that the goal is to be a neutral platform for recommendingfics for everyone. my tastes are different from other people’s, but i can’t disregardhalf the fandom’s preferences to highlight mine. like, that’s not how a“Mclennonrecs” works. if it was “CJDrecs” i could go to town with my personalopinions, but over at the recs i try to be as neutral and “impersonal” aspossible, because i’m doing it for everyone, not for me. i’m justthe current head-admin of the place in a position given to me by the earlierhead-admin, and one day i’ll pass it onto someone else. so no, i don’thave the freedom to go along with my own preferences, even though most of the time i do like the fics i rec.

byresponsible... uh, i don’t quite get what you mean by spreading and “notspreading”, do you mean that i’m in a position of responsibility and my actionsin the past have contributed in both spreading and not spreading the trend? uh, how, then? apart from the fest thing.......................

i agree with you that the fest came around at the wrong time -- it was already planned but chiclettes really kicked the final gears on, which now looking back to it was a wrong decision, since it started turning into something i never thought it would, that is, rather a full attack on chiclettes instead of being a small flick while the rest of us have fun (....should’ve started with ringo, probably). puck put it into words better than icould, since shehas a gift of words, the understanding of me as a person, and i keepputting my foot in my mouth like, way too often, since that’s how my brainworks:

“Does the method alwayswork? No! Of course not! The bottom fest thing is good example (...). While it was really about how being abottom is not any “less” as chiclettes suggests and you should write what thefuck you want to write because it’s literally fanfiction and you’re stillfiguring stuff out, because you’re young, it kinda got out of hand as peoplestarted to write stuff with the sole purpose of pissing chiclettes off, whichcjd agrees does not solve anything!! She didn’t think it would go into thatdirection. We actually talked about this a lot. Yeah, people write problematicstuff. They’re young! Shouting at them about what terrible people they are (aschiclettes does) is not the right way to solve that! (like… honestly… youngerpeople especially still have a lot to learn and a lot to figure out withregards to feminism and lgbtq+ stuff, which is one of the reasons I never lookback at my own fics, which I’m sure have problematic shit in them that I wouldcringe at now. And it’s a good thing too! people should learn! but they don’tdo that if you just shout and harress them all the time) Did it work the wayshe intended? No, but she doesn’t control what others do.”

what i find sad is that people jumped into the bottomPaulFest with excitement and then when the RingoFest and JohnFest came around............. no one really participated. there were NO fics written for the bottomJohnFest and ??? it makes me CRY. i was looking forward to that SO MUCH,,, :(((((((((((

the thought was always to have four fests for the lads. it just started with paul. no one seems to remember that the other fests are there, too :(

[petri808]

The Best Fight of Their Lives

Nalu Love Fest Day- Bonus Day Fight/Make up

Thank you for the story idea!  Partner in smut crime XD @random-rave   Lol, okay I’m like all smut-written out XD.  

“That mission was frustrating!  It took us so long to track those guys down and then they turned out to be a bunch of weaklings!”

“Isn’t that a good thing Natshu, less work for the same reward.”

“No way buddy,” punching the air and hoping from foot to foot, “I barely got a work out and now I’ve got all this pent-up energy!”

“I can see that,” the Exceed laughs at his best friend’s antics.  “Where’s Lushee?”

“Taking a bath…”

Lucy rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh from behind the closed door then sinks deeper into the furo until everything but her chin and up is exposed.  Her boyfriend was right that the mission was a serious disappointment, but while he still had energy to spare, the celestial mage was left fatigued.  First off, just to find the dark mages took several weeks of travel, often by foot through unpopulated areas.  Second, this was Natsu we were talking about, mister get-up-and-go, can’t stay still, and when he gets in those mindsets, Lucy had to do her best to keep him occupied or else he was likely to get into trouble.  She didn’t know what was worse, the physical exhaustion or the mental part.

She hears a loud dragging sound followed by a crash, coming from the living-room, “Natsu, what was that?!”

“It’s…. Don’t worry I’ll clean it up…”

Oh, hell no!  She’s was too tired, her body ached in places she didn’t know could hurt, and now he was probably destroying her apartment. Dragging herself out of the bath and wrapping herself in a towel, Lucy swings the door wide open to discover her boyfriend re-arranging the furniture.  All the blood in her body boils red hot, “No way!  Uh-uh!  Do you not realize what time it is!  Natsu all I wanted to do was relax in a nice hot bath and I don’t need you making a racket out here!”    

“I’m sorry Luce, I just wanted to…”

“I know what you wanted,” her response is curt because she knew he had planned to exercise.  “Weeks of walking and sleeping outdoors just to end up with crappy results…  Just please not tonight Natsu,” she rubs at her temples, “my body is tired, its sore, even my brain is fried.  Bath and then bed, that’s all I’m asking for.”  Lucy doesn’t even wait for him to respond before turning around and practically slamming the bathroom door closed behind her.

The spirit mage leans up against the door feeling a twinge of regret.  She hadn’t planned for it to come out so harshly, but she was simply too worn-out to even think coherently.  Maybe it’d be best to just get some sleep already. Lucy gives up on the bath and just readies herself for bed.  She’ll apologize, beg for cuddles, and then at least his unnaturally warm body will still soothe her aching muscles.

Meanwhile in the living room…

“Lushee is really mad at you Natshu.”

“Yeah… but I think I know a way to make it up to her.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“G’night Happy.”

Once the Exceed has left, Natsu slips into the bedroom without making a sound, quickly gathers a few items he’ll need, and prepares for Lucy to get out of the bathroom.  He can hear her movements through the walls, the sound of a brush being placed on the counter, her towel shifting and dropping to the floor, then the sounds of fabric rustling as she pulls on her sleepwear. Natsu had been so animated earlier that he’d failed to realize just how exhausted his girlfriend had been, but now, I can make it up to her,  he smirks.

When Lucy pushes open the bedroom door, “Natsu, I’m really sorry I…  what’s all this?” her eyes light up as her heart skips a beat.  The lights had been turned off, but he had placed a few of her favorite scented candles around the room giving it a warm and inviting feeling.      

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry Luce,” he takes her hands and guides her to the bed.  “I should have been more attentive to you.”

“No, I didn’t have to be a witch about it…”

Natsu chuckles, “for once just let me win an argument.  I was being the idiot, so let me make it up to you.”  He holds up a bottle of strawberry flavored massage oil flashing a grin, “please?”

Awww,  it was so rare for Natsu to actually initiate a more romantic gesture!  A light rosy hue crept onto Lucy’s cheeks, “okay.”  

He plants a kiss on her lips and nods his head towards the mattress, “get comfortable and I’ll give you a nice heated massage.”

She pulls the oversized shirt she wore off, pulls her hair into a messy bun, and slips out of her panties before lying face down on top of the comforter.  This was gonna be even better than warm cuddles!  Natsu strips down as well, no point in getting oils all over his clothes, right?  He climbs onto the bed, taking up a position to her side and pours a small coin-sized amount of the oil onto his palm, then heats up just his hands.

Starting with her legs, Natsu slowly works his way up from the soles of her feet, through her calves, to her thighs, caressing, and working out the knots.  He smooths and kneads at the muscles while the woman sighed or cringed if he hit a particularly tight area.  Lucy was in heaven for the oils provided a sweet aromatic and his warm hands melted away her pains.    

Natsu smiled at how much his girl was enjoying this.  It wasn’t often that he showed this level of tenderness, but of course with his nature, when he did, he went all out…. Especially for Lucy.  She deserved everything and more that he could give her because even if she didn’t know it, she’d become his rock.  They’ve been tied together for so long it seems, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost her.  Sure, he’s lost before, Igneel…. Lisanna…. he’s experienced the pain, but somehow this felt different.  So yes, it if took lavishing upon her little things like a massage, Natsu was all fired up for it.

He shifts positions and straddles those long lithe legs and moves along to her perky little derriere, squeezing them…. okay so maybe he was just plain fondling them.   They were so perfect to him, just like her breasts, but these two mounds fit in my hands, he chuckles.

Lucy’s voice is soft, almost sleepy, “what’s so funny?”  

“It’s nothing, I just love these.”  

“I think my ass is too big.”

“They are perfect,” Natsu leans down and bites one, making Lucy squeal, “I want them to stay just like this.”

“If you love them,” a long yawn escapes her, and she goes back to relaxing, “their yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he mumbles under his breath.  

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“No,” resuming his kneading, soon enough I’ll make it permanent…

Inching his way up her body, Natsu uses the heel of his palms to apply pressure on her lower back muscles, pressing and smoothing from bottom up to work out the tightened areas.  He applies generous amounts of oil to counter any chafing but so far, Lucy barely made a peep, mostly sighs, or the occasional cringe, it seemed she was enjoying the level of force he was applying.  In the areas around her spine where the surface is no longer flat, his thumbs lend more support.  

Once he’s gotten most of the lower knots rubbed out, he scoots up until he’s almost sitting on her ass. He reaches out, curling his hands around her shoulders and increases the heat in them just a tad.  Of all the areas he’s massaged on her so far, this area is by far the worst.  Natsu frowns slightly, maybe he should make this more of a routine, so it didn’t get so bad.  His fingers tense and knead at her flesh.  He uses the sides of his palms to press over and smooth out the areas he covers like he did with the heel on her back.  

But Lucy’s moans and groans don’t seem to be getting better, if anything they were increasing the longer he worked on her.

“Is this not helping?” Natsu finally sits back and asks her, “you keep moaning like it still hurts.”

“It’s fine…. It’s not, that’s not why.”

“You’re confusing me.” Lucy turns her head, and that’s when Natsu realizes her face is all flushed.  “Now, I’m really confused.”

“I can feel him pressing down there okay!”  her face growing even more crimson, “I tried to ignore it but… it’s not the easiest thing to do…” mumbling out that last part.

“Oh,” Natsu lets out a chocking laughter, before settling down, voice growing raspy and husky, “maybe she  wants attention too while I finish your massage.”

“Maybe…” but her tone suggested of a wanting.

Natsu chuckles and climbs off, settling instead on his side of the bed, with his back against the headboard and legs outstretched.  He pat’s his thighs, “come on Luce, climb aboard,” grinning at his witty remark, “but face away from me so I can finish your massage cause you need it.”

He holds his cock still while she centers herself and slides onto the appendage.  Lucy groans, even his cock was nice and warmed for her. Natsu chuckles again and begins to work at her neck muscles, rubbing and soothing away her aches and pains.  His fingers delve into the hairline, massaging around her ears, all over her scalp, kneading like a contented feline.  He plants tender kisses, chaste and moist along her nape and collar, sucking gently or pulsing his tongue against pressure points.    

Lucy can’t help it when her hips start to rock lightly, because while Natsu was behaving like a cat, she was starting to purr like one.  Those sultry vibrations were starting to break through his restraint like a domino set falling one by one.  “Luce,” he groans, “I won’t be able to finish your massage if you keep doing that.”

She reaches up and caresses his cheek, her voice full of amorous intent, “I feel a lot better now, so why don’t you finish me in another way?”  But she doesn’t give him a chance to respond.  Lucy turns around, spearing him a second time and claiming his lips to communicate, just how much  she wanted him to finish her.

Wow!  For someone who was dead tired just an hour ago she was just as hyped up as he had been!  Natsu grips onto her ass as he shifts them both until she’s on her back and he was missioned between her legs.  Her loose bun now unraveled fans out to create a golden halo around her face.  His eyes lower half-lidded, “my beautiful celestial queen.”

She giggles and wiggles her hips, “my handsome king of dragons.”

Natsu growls, the deep rumble permeating through Lucy’s very core.  “And this dragon is never gonna let you go.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smiles and leans down, supplanting words with passion-laden kisses that hold all the answers Lucy seeks. “I know I get on your nerves sometimes,” brushing his lips along her neck, “but if you’ll have me,” he lingers near her pulse point, “I’d love to make it more permanent.”

“Are you proposing…” she almost chokes on her words as his canines press into her delicate skin.

“Mmm,” he licks the area clean, “I guess you could call it a dragon’s proposal.”

Rolling her hips, “I’ll take you anyway I can Natsu.”

More light growls send heavenly quivers all over her body as Natsu continues caressing her nape with tantalizing kisses.  He grinds his pelvis against hers in undulating waves, short plunges to whet her entrance and build upon a delirious friction that was sure to wind her coil tight. She sway’s her hips, rocking them counter to his timing and their bodies flow into a rhythm just like a beautiful melody.  Her legs encircle and entwine themselves around his hips or thighs, back arching in time with the build of heat he was bringing to her junction box… and that heat was rising fast.

Slow and steady thrusts sunk deep into her channel with a skin to skin contact, rubbing her clit like kindling for her fires.  Lucy’s moans grow shaky, her pitch rising ever higher….  “Don’t stop….  Oh god….” Natsu continues his cadence, grinding over and over while Lucy rides out her orgasm.  

“Forever Luce…” he breathes out, “mine forever…” Natsu’s canines break through the skin to leave a permanent mark, his mark upon her neck just above the collar bone.  Lucy flinches, but strangely feels little discomfort.  He licks at the few droplets of blood, sealing the wounds.  

Maybe it was the heat or hormones, or maybe something more magical, she wondered, for a strange sensation flooded her being.  Purring out her yearning, “now, cum for me my dragon,” Lucy bucks hard against him.  

Natsu grins and shifts to a raised position on his haunches, with her legs over his arms, he holds onto her hip bones and drivers harder, faster into his new mate.  It was…  he couldn’t think of the right words as he watched his cock sliding into Lucy, just a feeling of contentment mixed with euphoria and absolute…  joy.  She was his, He was hers and nothing else mattered in that moment. Well except maybe the idea of one day filling her belly with his child, a wider smile surfaces, now that was a concept he’d never actually had before and yet now, as he gazes down at this celestial goddess.

He closes his eyes as the dam breaks, grunting and panting through the bursts of his seed flooding into Lucy…

After another quick shower for the both of them, Natsu cuddles Lucy into his arms, nestled amongst the downy blankets.  He kisses her temple gently, her eyes already shuttered and ready to sail off into dreamland. Tonight, may have started off with a fight, but it ended in the best make up anyone could have wished for.  

[thesinglesjukebox]

100 GECS - MONEY MACHINE

[6.75]

OK, so no-one mentioned Grimes...

Scott Mildenhall: A new version of The Game for people who used to play The Game: if you respond to this, then 100 gecs win. If you use the words Grimes or Sleigh Bells then they win forever, and if you shut your mind off to certain aspects of it, it becomes listenable. [6]

Will Adams: Wow, this Sleigh Bells remix of Farrah Abraham is a lot better than I expected. [5]

Will Rivitz: A purely hypothetical exercise: I would theorize that if a young teenager were to find electronic music through artists bridging the gap between the nu-metal they loved and uncut dancefloor shit, like -- as a general example -- Immersion-era Pendulum and Scary Monsters-era Skrillex, and that young teenager's journey through electronic music over the course of the next decade was defined at least in part by a categorical failure to distance that now-mid-20-something's musical taste from the scene shit they absolutely loved and still discuss online (say, for example, on a music blog or two) with high enough frequency that it's clear to any reader that they never really got over it and probably never will; if -- again, purely hypothetically -- if this statistically improbable person were to listen to "Money Machine" once, then listen to it thirteen times more in a row, then continue to listen to 1000 gecs for months, I would imagine they would have trouble admitting the song and corresponding album might be exactly their lane of trash, that they'd describe it semi-jokingly as "trash" but also kind of cringe internally whenever they used the word because they've listened to it way too much for it to be even a semi-joking enjoyment at this point. Something like that, anyway. Purely hypothetical. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: As the 2010s draw to a close, I'm starting to believe that the second half of this decade hasn't really seen much creative advancement in the world of music (which, is fine, but it's a bit disappointing). "Money Machine" (and the rest of 1000 gecs) sort of solidified that for me: for something that sounds incredibly of the moment, a lot of its touchstones go back at least a few years -- Brokencyde, PC Music, Sleigh Bells, 2000s pop punk, turn-of-the-decade rap like Kreayshawn and Lil B and Kitty Pryde -- and the experience of listening to it recalls the internet-era genre-blending of Salem except through a "deep-fried meme" filter. It's nevertheless the most pleasant surprise of the year. The first verse's insults are flirtatious and absurd, and the transition from comparing this person's arms to cigarettes and then saying "I bet I could smoke you" is an unexpectedly sublime tsundere moment. The rap-borrowed boasts could have easily felt out of place (think: Falling in Reverse's "Alone") but the song's archness and the hook's immediacy turn the clatter into joyous, blissful reverie. How are you feeling in 2019? Burnt out? Pissed off? Desperate for intimacy? Eager to splurge what little money you have? Simultaneously wanting to express all these things and never wanting to think about them, or anything at all? Well, have I got the song for you. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: What I love about 100 gecs is the self-erasing sense of abandon in their commitment to shittiness: their constant doubling-down on their worst instincts, their ugliest sounds, and their stupidest ideas captures a vivid nihilism that strikes awe in its ability to destroy indiscriminately. "Money Machine" is a song that attempts to conjure superiority from comparative vehicle size, but its contempt is infatuated ("Your arms look so fucking cute" is disrespect, but it stills sounds smitten) and its aggression accelerates into fantasy ("You'd text me 'I love you'/And then I'd fucking ghost you!"). The production seems to zero in on the harshest accidents of 2010s internet ephemera: the brash pretensions of Kreayshawn, which have been rediscovered half a decade later as meme fodder by TikTok teens; the ghoulish tech-shredding of Farrah Abraham's memoir-cum-pop-dalliance; the red-lined white noise compression of Sleigh Bells at their most noisome. And all of this is absorbed into punk-pop song structures and colored with capitalism's facile materialism, creating a glitch-fest of content that overwhelms while refusing to even consider meaning, let alone create it. There's something to be said for an act that, at every juncture it's given the chance to make its art better, chooses to make it worse. It's so fucked up and it's the most 2019 song I've heard all year. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The first 20 seconds of "Money Machine" are pure destruction, a funhouse mirror battle rap diss carried through the distorted tones of Laura Les. It's thrilling (so thrilling that they put it on a novelty t-shirt) in how it uses Navy-Seal-Copypasta voice in a way that's at once ironic and serious. Yet the thing that keeps me coming back to "Money Machine" is instead Dyln Brady's second verse, which takes the song's momentum and puts it into a holding pattern. It's tuneful and ambiguous, an ellipsis where the rest of the song is an exclamation point. But both parts are necessary for the noise of "Money Machine" to cohere. The alchemy of bravado and uncertainty, all filtered through the extremely online, is a fine art, and 100 gecs is approaching mastery of it. [9]

Alfred Soto: I was listening to Sir Babygirl most of the afternoon before playing "Money Machine," so my nervous system reacted to the attitude and boom boom bap of the beats. I especially relished the intro riff: a distorted whatever imitating a banjo played as if it were a bazooka. [7]

Alex Clifton: In early college I tried really hard to like MGMT and Animal Collective and Sleigh Bells and all the Cool Indie Bands that were critically acclaimed -- all the noise pop that felt rife with inflated egos. The good news is that now I'm not a tryhard 18-year-old wanting to impress people, I don't have to pretend to like this! [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[rougepetale]

I’m in love with the taste of you~

Fandom: (Voltage Love 365) Rose in the Embers

Pairing: Atsuro Shibusawa x reader

Warning: Smut...... I’m so sorry, never been a smut writer.... Hope its not a cringe fest. 

Please 18+ only!

After the fire at Omurice Café Atsuro was busy recreating the restaurant to the best of his abilities. He was still relatively wary of the authority, regardless of the fact that the investigation was closed and neither of them were suspected of treason.

He stepped back and looked at the painted brick, wiping the sweat from his forehead it looked better than that last time! The restaurant was reborn just like he had been, he was no longer shackled to the past, Yae was free and so was he.

A smile passed his lips when he thought about their joint freedom, everything felt lighter, he felt like he could shake the chains off finally, he was finally allowed to love again and a certain little dove’s face came to his mind. So bright, so deliciously innocent.

“Mr. Shibusawa!” a voice called out to him. He couldn’t stop the smile that erupted onto his face as he turned to the young woman.

“Ah, Little Dove” he called, he loved his pet name for her, her voice was as soft as a coo of a dove, and just as shy. “How do you like it?” He asked. He took notice of how she looked today her kimono was a beautiful shade of blue, complementing her eyes and her hair was up in a bun that he couldn’t help but feel like wanting to letting her hair down and running his fingers through her hair.

I looked up with wonder my mouth going lack for a second, “Wow! It looks ever better than yesterday!” I exclaimed.

Atsuro smiled, “Yeah, I thought so also,” he opened the door, “Come little dove, let’s have some breakfast.”

He opened the door and fresh paint rushed up to greet them. Everything was fresh and new, “Mr. Shibusawa! The inside looks amazing! It certainly helps to see it in the morning” I said with a small laugh. I did a circle in the doorway, everywhere I looked everything looked beautiful, I snuck a peak at Mr. Shibusawa, and he never ceased to amaze me about his regal appearance.

“In the spirit of new beginnings, little dove, I have created a new breakfast. It is a popular recipe in the West, they are called beignet” he introduced, “You’ll be my first customer!”

I smiled happily at him and followed him to the counter I sat in one of the seats, I felt terribly special, being the first to taste this new recipe, I was special. Atsuro soon placed the food before me, it was swallowed in powdered sugar and honey. “Go ahead, try it.”

The breakfast food was amazing as I expected it to be. I closed my eyes in enjoyment, the sweetness filled my mouth to the point I had to hold back a moan of enjoyment. “Oh gods Mr. Shibusawa! This taste amazing” I could hardly choke out.  When I opened my eyes I jumped when I saw him beside me, I didn’t hear him move from behind the counter to my side. His eyes were dark and intense. “Oh! Mr. Shibusawa! Is something the matter?”

His rough fingers reached for my face all the while holding my gaze, I could feel an instant blush making its way from my toes to my ears “You have something on your face little dove” he said, his fingers made contact with my cheek, pulling back I could see the white powder on the tips. He pulled his hand back and took a lick, “I am quite fond of the powder sugar, goes well with the bitter coffee” he pointed out, his eyes then settled upon my lips, I could see his Adams apple bob. I instantly bit it, feeling shy.

He went in for the kill, his lips attacked mine, and the gasp that escaped allowed him to explore my mouth without resistance, his hands pulled my body closer to him. My hands, having a mind of their own threaded into his hair tugging at him, a shiver ran down his back and pooled into his groin. When he pulled back from the intense kiss I could barely see the color of his eyes.

“Little dove, you don’t know how beautiful you look right now” he breathed out, he peppered my face with kisses, his facial hair scratched a little. It ignited a heat within me, a feeling that was otherwise foreign. He began to pull me behind the counter, it didn’t register until I was fully behind the counter and kneeling and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. Did I do that? Hell I didn’t remember, but I wasn’t going to complain.

He kissed my lips again, this time I could feel my obi becoming slack and his hands tentatively exploring the exposed skin, I tensed for only a second, his lips then descended upon my neck sucking gently and found a magical spot that made me moan out loud, and unknown muscles clench in response. “Don’t” I could barely breathe out. He pulled back, watching my reaction, he was confused. “Don’t stop” I finished.

He smirked as he went back to work. His lips found the magic place again, I bit my lip trying to stay quiet, and in the back of my mind I was wondering if the front door was locked, what if somebody came in? What brought be back to the moment was a bite to my neck that made me jolt in pleasure, I looked back at him and to my surprise I saw slight annoyance in his eyes.

“Stay with me little dove, no thinking of other things” he commanded while kissing me on the lips again, he took my hand and guided it to his manhood, I could feel his body, hard. I could feel my heartbeat souring, this was uncharted territory, “Do you feel what you do to me?” he asked, he then tugged at the obi and my body became exposed. He kissed down from my throat to my breast, taking the left breast into his mouth he licked and sucked upon it feverishly while pinching and kneading its twin. I moaned loudly again, this time I didn’t try to stifle it.

He pushed me down upon the floor such that I was lying down, but it wasn’t before my elbow hit something, causing the lid to open and for the sticky substance to ooze onto my bare skin. I looked down to see that it was honey coating the side of my stomach, for a second I was quite glad it wasn’t something worse. Atsuro paused for a second, watching the turn of events.  He bent lower and licked some the honey off my side, the act itself was slow and sinuous I squirmed as I felt his tongue taste me.

“Little dove you taste so good” he purred, the very sound of his voice caused my muscles to clench in needy response. It helped that he loved the taste of honey, he dipped his hand into the jar and smeared it over my body, and kneaded it into my breasts, eliciting a mewl. He continued to lick and suck my body leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. As he cleaned up his honey that he smeared only second before.

In my haze I tugged at his clothing, “Mr. Shibusawa, you are still too clothed” I pointed out, trying to unbutton his shirt he didn’t seem to care much, the damn buttons were taunting me, they were lucky I didn’t just rip them off his shirt. Eventually the last button was undone his shirt hung open and I pulled his wife beater from his pants and my hands delved under to feel his skin, he did not discard his top like I was hoping he would. Discontent that I couldn’t kiss his body like he was pleasuring mine I had to make due with kissing his neck. A well placed nip on his neck caused him to buck his hips in pleasure.

I fumbled with his pant button once again, I was lucky he didn’t have his suspenders on just yet. I shoved his pants down as much as I could, “Mr. Shibusawa” I moaned out, as I saw the outline of his member straining against his boxers, I palmed him member, feeling him twitch, giving a gentle squeeze he took in a shuttered breath and paused for a second. It was a bold move especially for an inexperienced person my hand moved slowly over his clothed member, it was rewarded with a deep moan that reverberated from deep within his chest the friction was testing his resolve to go slower.

“Call me by my name” he commanded, Atsuro’s mouth left my body for a second, he pulled my panties down and off my body in a second, and he tucked them into his back pocket.

“Mr. Atsuro” I tested, it felt nice to call him by his name, I saw the smile that flitted across his face for a second. I shyly pulled his boxers down and his member sprang forward, I could feel another blush erupt upon my face, I have never seen a man like this. I couldn’t accurately judge if he was average or not, but he was magnificent all the same.

He hummed and smiled at my shocked face, “Oh little dove, how I look forward to spending eternity with you” his fingers descended into a sacred place, rubbing the sensitive nub I could feel the fire inside me erupting into a smoldering inferno threatening to consume me whole. Unfamiliar, I could only enjoy the ride, and one hell of a ride it was. The coils within me was beginning to be tightly wound.

Atsuro enjoyed watching the pleasure flit across her face, he knew she was a virgin and as such wanted to take it slow, there was plenty of time to get rougher, no need to scare her off early. It was killing him going this slow, but the reward was worth the wait. He licked her right breast now, there was still honey upon them and now the honey was mixing with her juices, He’d have to clean that up too. But for now he was content to let her take the reins to a degree.

I could feel that I was being pushed closer and closer to some unknown edge, his rhythmic sucking and nipping at my breast and his fingers working magic I was beginning to sweat, and gasp every second, “Mr. Atsuro… I… I” I could feel my breath leaving me as I was violently shoved off the edge and into the pleasant abyss. My soul had temporarily left my body as I spasmed around his fingers.

Atsuro continued to rub the sensitive nub gently while he watched me going through my first orgasm, removing his fingers from my core he brought it to his mouth and tasted my juice, mixed with the sweetness of honey he couldn’t hold back his own moan of pleasure and he kissed me again to taste myself. He gently pulled my legs apart and aligned himself before my entrance. He kissed me again, he was ready and he was sure I was ready, but a virgin who he was sure had never been touched, it was hopefully be a pleasant experience for both of them. He was busy looking at my beautiful body when my arms came to his face and captured his attention.

I had come back from my rapture when I saw him looking at my body, I was self-conscious about how intensely he was focusing on me, and the fact that this in of itself was happening, I wasn’t going to back down now. I pulled Mr. Shibusawa’s face towards me as I kissed him again, the taste was different from last time, salty and sweet, it was intoxicating. “I’m ready Mr. Atsuro” I whispered into his ear. I knew it would a different feeling, but I knew that in the end it would be enjoyable.

Atsuro smiled as he covered my lips with his own as he tease my entrance, pushing gently into my folds and pulling out. The teasing drove me wild, pushing in just enough to stretch but not enough to satisfy. His complete entrance came as a surprise as I expected him to tease more. At first it was uncomfortable, Atsuro distracted by kissing and pinching my breasts, heightening my senses, between kisses he spoke to me, “Gods… little dove….you are so tight” he began to thrust gently into me and building speed, his hands roamed my body memorizing every inch. He could hardly believe the feeling of being tightly held, he was not inexperienced in the art of love making but it has been a while since he had been with somebody as deliciously tight and responsive. He hitched my left leg up to hook around his waist giving him a new angle.

“Please, Mr. Atsuro!” I begged, for what I didn’t know. “Please, gods it feels so good!” I sighed out, his thrusting which was once rhythmic and gentle began to pick up and become aggressive. “Atsuro!” I chanted his name softly as he hit a pleasure spot quite often. The coils inside were quickly winding up again and faster than the last time. “Please, harder” I breathed out while kissing him hard on the lips, my arms found their way to his back as I held on, I attempted to oscillate my hips to his thrusting but was mildly unsuccessful.

Atsuro complied as he then brought both of my legs higher as he thrust harder, he could feel himself sweating as it beaded from his forehead and drip down onto his chin, He too was feeling about the explode, he couldn’t hold on much longer. He brought one hand to rub and carres the sensitive nub to help push both of us over. That act is what pushed both of us over, I clenched around his member as I was once again shot to nirvana, the orgasm that rocked my world milked him completely after some time be abstinent it was such a heavenly release that he couldn’t get enough of. The vice like grip that I had around Atsuro nearly made him die and go to nirvana with me. He thrusted twice more before he collapsed beside me, our hot sweaty and sticky bodies panted together in sync.

He was the first to recover, he watched gently at the sight before him. He was with the girl he loved, Yae was far from his mind, and what lie before was by far a better prize. He moved some strands of hair behind my ear as I recovered from my orgasm. “Told you have enough stamina little dove” he panted out.  

I smiled back at him “That you did Mr. Shibusawa.”

*Ring*

The bell announced that somebody had come inside the café. “Mr. Shibusawa!” a voice called out that belonged to none other that Kyosuke Takatsukasa.