#yay i wrote something

[archangelgabriellives]

Obligatory eclipse ask! I think maybe he needs to take Sam on a fabulous date to the best view possible

*april 9 2024*

there is no way that gabriel would let sam watch this eclipse in any other way than 1000% over the top. sitting on the hood of a car? wearing those little paper glasses?? no. that is how the rest of the populus can “enjoy” this eclipse. sam is dating an angel. a freakin ARCHANGEL! Gabriel is going all out. jusst a touch of his grace and sam is the only human on the planet who doesn't need flimsy cardboard glasses to see the moon move across the sun. a snap of his fingers and sam is being hand fed his favorite snacks. by gabriel of course. a flap of his wings and they can watch the eclipse from any place they want. and no sam. you're not going to the civic center in lebanon. i don't care how many of the old ladies in town invite you to bingo. you don't owe them your gorgeous face. let your boyfriend spoil you. theres a secluded cabin in the smokey mountains that has his name all over it. there isn't another human for miles. the view is unobstrucked and the clouds have mysteriously blown overto reveal the bluest spring sky of the year. 

there is a blink and you'd miss it moment where gabriel thinks sam has a bit of panic during totality. when the sun vnishes behind the moon it gets dark. unnaturally dark. the cold rolls up fast and its like you're in another world. gabriel can see sams face pinch at the edges, fear creeping in like the ice cold of the cage, and the faint cackle of archangels rattling around in his mind. it takes only a touch to pull him back, warm grace covering sam like a blanket. protecting sam from the things that haunt him. the hunter sighs, fingers intertwining with gabriels. it only takes another moment for the light to start to return. for sam to loosen his grip slightly and tug gabriel into his lap. he takes advantage of the mock twilight and their lips meet in a tender kiss. 

[mcfiddlestan]

Staying the Night Prompts

❝ i don’t have nightmares when you’re there. ❞ (Loki/Bucky)

“We should probably get some rest.”

Bucky managed a lazy grin and an equally lazy nod at Steve’s words, but made no effort to rise from the long sofa in Stark’s penthouse lounge. The tower wasn’t exactly home, but it was the place everyone came to recuperate and get a warm meal, especially after returning from a mission. Bucky and Steve had only come back a few hours ago from their latest mission, providing some not necessarily needed support for Shuri and the Wakandans. Who knew stopping human traffickers could cause so many body aches. A slight shift on the seat to sit up and he knew there was definitely a bruised rib somewhere. 

“I’ll head back in a bit.” He said with a soft groan, falling back against the cushions.

“Aren’t you tired?” Steve questioned from beside him. When he frowned the cut above his eyebrow stung and he tapped a finger to it a few times, pulling his hand back to look at it. Not bleeding anymore. 

Bucky nodded even as he verbally answered, “Yeah, exhausted. I just wanna finish my beer.” He gave the bottle a little shake. “It’s nice to be back within four solid walls though.” And to sit in front of a fire he didn’t have to start or worry about putting out, he thought, as he stared at the flames in the hearth before them.

“Sure is. No rough blankets on the ground tonight. Well,” Steve sighed after a moment. He reached out and clapped a hand to Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for covering me out there. You saved my ass.” Bucky lifted bright blue eyes to his, narrowed an eye. “Again,” Steve conceded with that boyish smirk.

Bucky chuckled, nodded, and wished Steve a good night as he brought the Budweiser bottle to his lips. Steve slowly rose with a groan and walked directly into the waiting elevator.

It still amazed Bucky that Stark willingly allowed this ragtag group of vigilantes, spies, a former winter soldier, and others to freely come and go from his tower, using it as a makeshift Avengers Hotel. The billionaire himself kept a small apartment among the smaller bungalows at the place he’d once used as a homebase for his company, but, for the most part, Stark slept in a room off his lab, never too far away from his work — if he slept at all. But everyone left that to Bruce and Rhodey to deal with.

Finishing off his beer, Bucky pushed himself to his feet, careful not to strain any more muscles than he already had, and after rinsing it out, deposited the bottle into the recycle bin. Judging by its nearly full capacity, the tower’s rooms must’ve been equally full tonight. Too wiped to think about who might be milling around in the morning, Bucky headed for the elevator, stifling a yawn. He watched the numbers slowly descend to his floor — the same as Steve’s, but on the other opposite side of the building — contemplating how long he might let himself sleep before he got started on his report the next day.

He was planning it all out as he walked to his door, absently pulling out the key, and unlocking the door. The moment he stepped inside he sensed something was different than when he left it. The apartment assigned to him was larger than the one he kept in Brooklyn, but it was just as sparsely decorated. In his line of business, it wasn’t exactly ideal to plant roots or get attached to anything. The room here and now was lit only by the pale blue moonlight streaming through the tall, wide windows displaying the city and off in the distance, the Brooklyn Bridge.

Bucky wondered if he should’ve just gone home as he scanned the room and moved silently to the bedroom door. It was less than a half hour by subway. Pulling his gun from its strap, safety off, Bucky listened for any sounds even as his eyes scanned the area before pushing the door open and aiming the gun at his bed. 

Seeing the hint of pale fingers rising in a surrender gesture in the shadows of one corner, Bucky locked and re-holstered the gun with an exasperated noise. 

“What the fuck, Loki?”

Dressed in his usual casual outfit of a green tunic and black pants, Loki emerged from the corner and crossed his arms. “I was only awaiting your return. I didn’t realize you’d come in guns a-blazing like — what do they call them? Cowboys?”

Bucky scoffed and began to remove his gear, dumping it on the dark tufted chair beside his dresser. “What are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”

It was Loki’s turn to scoff. “Hello? I’m a god, remember? I can go anywhere I please. Your human locks are like Odin’s fatherly approval to me: nonexistent.”

Bucky jerked his head back. “Well, that got dark fast,” he muttered, finally dropping the last of his weapons. He gripped his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, then reached for his belt. “Is there something you need? ‘Cause I just got back from—”

“A mission in Wakanda, I know,” Loki finished, his voice lowered. “How is Shuri? I’ve missed…talking shop with her. Her technology is impressive. Even to an As—well, a former Asgardian.”

Bucky kicked off his second boot and stopped, watching Loki with more focused eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Loki raised his head, lifting a brow. “Must something be wrong? Are we not friends? Can’t I simply wish to welcome you—“

“Lokes.”

Loki took a long beat before he smirked, chuckling a little, and lowered to the foot of the bed. “Nothing’s wrong. Honestly. I was just…eager to say hello. Thought you might want to talk. Maybe shake off the mission. You must be hurt. I can hear you trying not to groan with every movement.”

Bucky went still then, realizing Loki was right, he moaned a little as he let out the breath he’d been holding. He was really feeling the aches now. As if his body knew the bed was so close. “I’m fine, Loki. It’s just taking a little longer for me to heal, that’s all. But, really, I’m just looking forward to collapsing into bed.” He moved to the dresser behind him to grab a pair of sweatpants and a fresh shirt from the drawers. 

“Oh, well, don’t let me get in your way.” Loki crossed one leg over the other, seemingly planting himself in that spot.

Bucky, with his back turned to Loki, grinned a little to himself, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them aside once they dropped. “We said we were gonna stop,” he said as he slipped on the sweatpants.

The silence was blaring behind him. To give Loki whatever time he needed, Bucky stripped off his shirt and slipped a clean one over his head, and piled his soiled clothes in the corner along with his socks.

“I know what we said,” came the reply finally. 

Tying the drawstring on his pants, Bucky turned to face Loki. He noted how Loki wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning his face away, toward the windows. The moon shone brighter at this angle, lighting up the part of Bucky’s room open to the windows. And Bucky could see Loki’s face now, that it was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks a little hollower than usual. 

Sensing his appointment with sleep was about to be delayed, Bucky crossed over to sit beside Loki on the bed. “So what’d you get up to while I was gone?” he asked casually.

“Not much,” Loki answered with a shrug, still looking out the window. “Worked on some spells, conjured up some new tinctures. Avoided Thor.”

Bucky laughed quietly, the bed shaking with the movement. “He was here?”

“Only for a few hours, Hail Frigga,” Loki said with a dry laugh that grew more genuine when Bucky chuckled too. 

“Loki,” Bucky murmured after their laughter died down.

Loki’s smile faded, and he lowered his eyes. “Please,” he all but whispered. 

Bucky grinned lopsidedly, but bit his lip. “You said no more.”

“I know. I lied.”

Bucky snickered and dropped his head on Loki’s shoulder. He was just so tired. “You told me not to let you anymore,” he whispered.

Loki turned his head, nuzzling his cheek against Bucky’s nose. “You shouldn’t listen to me. I’m an idiot.”

“Lokes,” he snorted. Bucky slipped his hand into Loki’s, felt his cold skin cool against his warm palm. “You’re not an idiot. And I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t listen to you.”

Loki nudged him with his elbow. Bucky only groaned softly and closed his heavy eyes, comfortable enough in Loki’s presence to let his guard down. 

“I’m barely hanging on here, babe. You should probably go back to your room.”

Loki turned his body toward Bucky’s, clutching his hand tightly between his own in his lap. “I don’t want to. Just one more night, James. Please? I know what I’m asking…”

“Do you?” Bucky sat up and released Loki’s hand, so he could balance himself.

For the first time that night, Loki met Bucky’s gaze. Even through his tiredness and the pale moonlight, Bucky could see Loki was equally as exhausted as he. He hasn’t slept, he realized with a spark of concern. Hard as he tried, Bucky couldn’t stop himself from worrying about Loki.

“Look, Loki—”

He held up a hand to cut Bucky off. “No, I know. I know I don’t make this any easier for you.” He uncrossed his legs and turned away from Bucky. “I don’t mean to be selfish, you know. I don’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that…”

Bucky waited for the answer, but none came. “What?” he urged, nudging Loki’s arm with his fingers.

Loki inhaled deeply and turned his eyes to Bucky’s again, and with a quiver to his voice, he said, “I don’t have nightmares when you’re there.”

Bucky swallowed thickly. “Oh.” The revelation was one thing. They’d initially bonded over their shared experiences with torture and brainwashing. Few, if any, of the others could relate. But the tears clinging to Loki’s long black lashes was quite another. Bucky hadn’t seen Loki so vulnerable before. He wasn’t at all sure what to do, but to scratch at his head with the metal fingers, searching for the right words. “Um…”

Loki shifted and Bucky saw the moment he shut down and that cool mask slid into place. His dark emerald green eyes cleared instantly, his lips, already thin, thinned even further. “Forget it. Forget I said anything. Forget this ever happened. I’ll go.”

“No!” Bucky shouted the word, grasping for Loki’s arm as he rose and tugging so hard, the sleeve of his tunic ripping cut into the silence between them. “Shit!” Bucky shot up to his feet, but only stammered out an apology and held out the torn piece of his tunic to Loki.

Loki took it and clenched his jaw. “James, I’m getting rather mixed signals from you.” In one long sweep of his hand, Loki’s tunic was repaired and the ripped piece disappeared. “You won’t allow me to have a restful night’s sleep in your bed, yet you seem eager to quite literally rip my clothes off.”

Bucky slapped the non-metal palm to his face. “I swear, I didn’t mean to do that. And I was going to tell you that it’s fine, you can stay here. I just got a little thrown off by the tears in your eyes.” He started to turn away, but decided he had more to say. “And you know what? Speaking of mixed signals, what kind are you sending to me exactly? I mean, you know very well how I feel about you and you continuously torture me by coming to my room and begging to sleep — just sleep! — in my bed, beside me, all long legs and silky hair, and I’m doing my damndest to be a gentleman and be understanding because we are friends, but it’s fucking killing me when I wake up and there you are, just causally wrapped around my—“

It took Bucky’s brain a good five seconds to compute that his epic rant had been cut short by Loki, and that he was now currently being lovingly and tenderly kissed by the longtime object of his affection. As Loki’s lips pressed against his, Bucky slowly sank into the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen it and pull Loki’s body against his.

Needing the air to breathe, and realizing what he was doing, Bucky took one giant step back. 

“What is happening right now?”

Loki swiped a finger across his bottom lip. “Well, something that was a long time coming, I think. Don’t you?”

Bucky relaxed, glared. “Don’t be a dick.” Loki cocked a brow, this time in confusion, and Bucky scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. You’re practically BFFs with Stark and he’s the sassiest bitch in this place. So I know you’re learning some shit.” He looked up and caught the smile lighting up Loki’s face. “What does this mean?”

Loki’s expression turned thoughtful as he closed the distance between them and ran his hands up Bucky’s chest to wrap around his neck underneath the dark brown strands of his hair. “I think what it means, darling, is that your love is no longer unrequited.”

Bucky gawked at Loki. “Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Loki nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. But just as their lips touched Bucky sprang back. “Is this just because of the nightmares?”

Loki laughed, throwing his head back. “No. Well, not entirely.” He breathed out a sigh, as if a weight had been lifted from him, and kept his hands at Bucky’s chest. “I suppose it took me a little while to realize how stupid I would be to keep denying what I was feeling.”

Their eyes met and Bucky felt his stomach flip at the expression in Loki’s gaze. “But why—?”

“I’m not very good at this, James. Physically, it’s not difficult to navigate. But everything else that goes with it…” Loki turned his face again and nearly stepped away from Bucky. But Bucky was there, keeping a tight grip on him. “I ruined whatever it was between Fandral and I, and I—I ruined him. He can barely stand the sight of me now. I don’t want that to happen with you.”

“It won’t.” Loki skeptically angled his head and Bucky grinned. “I’m not great at this either, okay? Back in my day, I couldn’t do this. Not without major consequences. And I never really knew anyone I was willing to risk it with. Until you.”

“How romantic of you,” Loki murmured with his signature facetiousness.

“Shut up, Mischief. I’m saying, we don’t have to sneak around anymore, right? We also don’t have to rush into anything neither of us isn’t ready for. So…” He ran a finger down the side of Loki’s face. “How ‘bout we just see where it goes, okay, doll?”

Loki fluttered his lashes, swooning. “I do love it when you call me that.”

This time, Bucky let the kiss happen, wrapping both of his arms around Loki and holding him tight. He laughed against Loki’s mouth when the nimble god leapt up and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“Um, off to bed then?”

“Hm, I thought you were tired?”

Bucky let out a low growl, near purr, at Loki’s fingers carding through his hair. “I might’ve gotten a second wind.”

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

Sorry that took a minute. I had the idea as soon as you sent the ask, I just wasn't able to get it down until last night (Wednesday) and I didn't get to read what I wrote at three o'clock in the morning and edit until tonight (Thursday). Felt kinda nice to write some WinterFrost again!

LMK if y'all want me to post this on AO3. Then I might have at least one fic posted this year, lol.

xoxo

[gumnut-logic]

Doubts

I wrote something! Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for sending an ask from the Little Whump List. Her request was 'sore feet'. And I also owe her thanks for reading it through for a sanity check :D

It didn't stay little, though, and there are warnings for submersion in turbulent water and poor Johnny having a bad day, but hey, fic! 2000 words worth :D Yeah, I got that from 'sore feet'. I'm a basket case, obviously :D

So a little whump!John fic (yes, I wrote John, its a shocker). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

John had doubts.

Doubts about himself.

Doubts that if he mentioned them to his brothers they would be shouted down with buckets of reassurance.

But they were doubts nonetheless.

He was good at his job. In space, if he was honest, he could probably rate as one of the most experienced astronauts on the planet. He knew he was smart. He knew he had what it took to do what he did far above the sky of his planet.

But his doubts didn’t lie there.

They were solid and terra firma doubts that woke him in the night.

He watched his brothers save lives every day. Heroes, every one of them. John’s part was crucial and he had his own challenges that he had confidence to meet.

But every now and again, and possibly more often if his brothers could wrangle it, he had to return to Earth.

And he would join his brothers in those hands-on rescues.

He was good. He was fully trained and had the experience. He was as much a member of International Rescue as any of his brothers.

But down in the thick of things, he sometimes had doubts he could live up to their example. Be as good as Scott, Virgil and Gordon who tackled this stuff every day while John floated far above and kept his hands clean.

He was physically adept, despite the jokes about gravity and clumsiness. Once acclimated to Earth, he was well muscled and had a brain that could run circles around the majority of the planet.

Yet, still, in the depths of his soul, those doubts sat and nibbled at his confidence.

It was stupid and it annoyed him, but they were there. Perhaps remnants of a time in his past where the school bullies had said so many things until an older brother or two shut them up permanently.

Whatever. He hated the doubt, but had to acknowledge its existence.

So when his foot got caught in the disintegrating floorboards of a collapsing house, all those doubts came out and celebrated being right.

The shock on Virgil’s face as his brother spun as John was swallowed by under-mined timber and dragged into a flooded river, was enough to imprint on John’s mind before grey and dark muck swallowed him whole.

Japan. Typhoon aftermath. A dull day full of roaring river and undermined banks. Evacuating a whole town perched on the edge of oblivion. John had been helping Virgil and an elderly couple who had become trapped by floodwaters. They got them out. But John was too slow, stepped wrong and now he was in the river.

Dark and bruising, his world was a tumultuous mess and for a moment all his breath was stolen from him, panic rearing its ugly head.

This was it. This was proof he really didn’t have what was needed on the ground. Now he needed rescuing, further complicating the job.

But he had training. Tumultuous was nothing new. It usually didn’t involve water, but the mechanics were the same.

Calm.

Assess.

Act.

It became clear that his foot was still caught in whatever had snagged it in the first place and there was pain. He shunted it aside as less important and focussed more on steadying his motion.

He couldn’t see a thing. Though he could feel the flotsam all around, hitting him, herding him…but his helmet and uniform were designed to take it. He was still dry.

Still breathing.

“Thunderbird Five, report!” Scott’s voice had every ounce of command his brother possessed, and it wasn’t until then that John realised his brothers had been calling him through the roar of angry floodwaters.

“Uh-“

Something hit him in the stomach and knocked all the air out of his lungs.

“John, I’m coming to get you. Hang on.”

John unclenched his eyes and finally sucked in a breath at Gordon’s voice. He was in the water, of course it would be Gordon.

Time spun away for a moment, along with his trajectory, bouncing off so many hard things. He forced himself to focus.

Calm.

Calm brought clarity to the chaos.

Assess.

He noted the direction he was travelling - in the majority - this had to be the current. He curled himself up and tried to put himself feet first, floorboards and all, into the current to protect his head and body as much as possible.

Surface. He had to locate up and down.

Space did not have up and down, but it did have direction. In this case gravity was hard to identify between the current and the churning, but there were moments enough, heart in his mouth, teeth clenched to keep it safe, to give him a hint of the right direction.

But he was still snagged, tied to the remains of a wooden floor of the house travelling with him.

The horror on Virgil’s face flashed across his mind again.

Doubt and panic loomed.

But something snagged his baldric and he was being dragged against the current. His foot screamed and he yelled.

“Sorry, sorry! Virgil, get down here! We need your heavy lifting!”

“FAB.”

He barely heard his brothers above the roar. But for a split second, the murk cleared and grey sky lit up his helmet. A glimpse of Thunderbird One, a cable and Gordon in all his glorious blue and yellow perched on wooden remains as if surfing.

That was more a Scott trademark move, wasn’t it?

But then the murk swallowed him up again and Gordon was swearing through his comms.

Ironically, his brother’s voice, no matter how strained, was enough for John to focus on and keep his sanity.

“Thunderbird One, just nudge it slowly. Over there out of the main current.” He could hear his brother’s breathing. Whatever Gordon had snagged him with, it was still tugging at his baldric. But something else was also at work, because the current calmed, the world righted until he was able to float easier and the chaos started to calm.

“Thunderbird Two, get this house off him. I’ll get in there and detach the major stress points so you can lift it off.”

Virgil’s baritone confirmation was lost in the roar of Thunderbird and water.

It took forever, but the entire time, Gordon was speaking to him, his tone light, almost cheery.

“Johnny, you have officially joined the BUB Club. ‘Brother Under Building’ Club. Thought you would escape that one. Scott has had at least three buildings land on him-“

“Keep it sharp, Thunderbird Four.”

“Sure, Thunderbird One. Sharp and to the point, sir.” And he kept talking, totally ignoring the command. “Virgil is the Big BUB, though, with no less than six heart attack inducing buildings landing on our heavy lifting bro. Pissed Scott right off, every time.”

“Gordon!” That was definitely an annoyed baritone.

“Hey, it comes with the job. You lift and sometimes get buried. We pull you out every time. Frequent burial points should be a thing.” There was silence for a moment and then…”Okay, Thunderbird Two, lift it off our brother.”

And there was suddenly light and the blurry outlines of green and silver, quickly followed by blue and yellow.

“Heya, Johnny. You’re a bit stuck.” Their helmets touched. “Hang in there, big bro, just a little longer and we’ll have you out.”

Gordon disappeared behind him and John twisted to follow.

“Hey, don’t move. I’ve got this. You’ll be smotherhenned in no time.”

The distraction worked. Oh god, his foot was probably going to have him off his feet and on the ground for who knows how long with two big brothers hovering…and Grandma. His eyes widened. Oh, hell.

But he was suddenly floating free. Gordon appeared beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pushing the both of them towards the surface. “I gotcha, Johnny.” I was said softly and with heart.

Then followed the expected hauling up into Two and that frown on Virgil’s face that was always there when a brother was hurt.

The diagnosis was lots of bruising and a hairline fracture in his right foot.

He wouldn’t be going anywhere near space anytime soon.

He didn’t have enough expletives in any language to fully express his reaction to that news.

“I should have stayed in space.” He was sitting up in bed in the infirmary, watching Virgil fasten a splint on his aching foot.

A dark eyebrow arched in his direction. “And let all those people die in that river?”

“You had that all well under control whether I was there or not.”

Virgil straightened and stared at him. “John?”

It was as if his brother had a radar that picked up on what family wanted to hide.

“What?” Okay, it was a touch petulant. Maybe Eos was rubbing off on him.

“You did a good job today.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Uh, no. We saved an entire town and I know you know that. You were there.”

“I fell in the river!”

“And we pulled you out. It happens.” Virgil turned back to securing the splint. “You did good. We did good. Shit happens. We deal with it.”

“You sound like Gordon.”

Virgil snorted. “Funny about that. Could be because we’re related.”

“Ooh, did I just here an acknowledgement of siblinghood? Didn’t know you had it in you, Virg.” Gordon waltzed into the room and tapped Virgil on the back, not enough to disturb what he was doing but enough to drive his comment home.

Virgil grunted and turned away as if to deny any relationship to the fish in the room.

“Hey, Johnny.” Gordon continued his waltz around the bed and dumped himself lightly beside John. “How goes the bruises? Virg driven you insane yet?”

“Don’t call me Johnny.”

“Oooh, wow, that’s a definite sign of improvement. The snark is back. Eos will be happy to hear.”

John blinked. He hadn’t heard from Eos since before the…accident. “Eos?”

“Ohh, she’s speaking with Scott. We had to kill her access to your comms when you went down.” Gordon wasn’t looking at him.

John straightened where he sat, only to shift his foot enough for it to protest. “Why?”

“Uh, she was worried. But don’t you worry, Scott talked her down. In fact, they are still chatting.”

Gordon’s nonchalance only tightened the sudden knot in John’s belly.

“I want to speak with her.”

“She’s fine. She and Scotty finally hit it off. You might regret that in the long run, but its good. Things are good.”

“Gordon-“

But it was Virgil who interceded. “Eos is okay, John. She has agreed to wait to speak to you until I say so. And I won’t say so until I’m finished here. I won’t be long.”

John stared at him a moment but couldn’t find any words that might work. Gordon yes, Virgil…might as well try to persuade a brick wall.

Fine.

“You did good today.”

Now Gordon was sounding like Virgil. Those two spent far too much time together.

John grunted.

“No, I mean it. You did good in the water. We tracked you, you know. I could see your reaction and I can say from experience that you did good. That was no small accident. Water can kill as much as space, if not more. You reacted in the best way possible.”

John looked up at his little brother. Really?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s not often you get to play in my bathtub, but I was proud of you today.”

Again with the softly and all the heart.

Virgil had stopped working and was staring at him, his expression agreeing with Gordon’s words.

John cleared his throat. “Really?”

Gordon snorted and grinned. “Really. And now we have one extra person on the housework roster.”

“Hey, I’m injured.” It was weak, but he wasn’t at his snarky best apparently.

“You can still do dishes on one leg.” Gordon’s grin widened.

“Gordon, get out of here.” Virgil, ever the sanctuary of sanity.

“No, I’m hanging with Johnny who is down from orbit for some brotherly housework time.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as Gordon snuggled into John’s side like the cephalopod he was.

John found himself smiling.

And as Virgil smirked and winked in his direction, he realised that was the entire aim of everything.

No doubt at all.

-o-o-o-

[diluviium]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ @solere submitted an inquiry ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ i will not say that you are welcome. nor will i deny that i have hoped that you might come. ❞

❛ You do get quite the joy out of speaking in rather roundabout ways, Don't you? ❜ A lofty sigh comes from you as he spoke those words. Ever the difficult man; not wishing to just clearly say "I am happy to see you, thank you for coming!". Not that you would say that either if they roles were reversed. You three are never ones to be clear cut, or simple. If you are, the situation is usually one that had been dire. Have you ever been in such a dire situation that called for any of you to say something like "I am glad you are alright" or "Thank goodness you are here"...?

Well, it's certainly something you can envision happening, but you can't recall a time it has happened.

❛ Well, unlike someone, I can speak clearly~ I am happy to see you and I am glad that I came at such a time where we could meet~ ❜ You say this as if you are proud of yourself. A smile on your features as you look at him confidently. ❛ Now, since we are here together, I do hope that you will come to admit you had hoped I'd arrive. It is rather cute when you avert your eyes when you confess something you deem "embarrassing". ❜

[transformers-spike]

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown nsfw. Come on, I know you wanna

I will never recover from the predator/prey fic so here have something wholesome for once

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath, barely taking in Breakdown’s spike. From sheer size alone, it feels like marching into a sex shop and demanding the giant dildo they use to attract tourists. Knock Out, cunty as ever, already has his far-too-soft-for-metal lips against your collarbone. If you were a sensible person, you would have shot down the mere mention of a threesome. Alas, the notion of trying this new thing called “mass displacement” called to you like a kid at a candy store. If you didn’t have the audacity to say yes, you would have missed the suppleness of Knock Out’s tongue and the unexpected gentleness of Breakdown’s fingers working you up. You love these guys enough to put up with their strange antiques and deal with their unusually-high-for-their-kind sex drive (or interface drive as Breakdown kindly pointed out before Knock Out immediately adopted the human lingo). They must have watched human porn, there’s just no way they haven’t – not with the way they stroke your body like frat boys finally getting their groove on after years of studying up on the sex. If you had the energy, you would be currently exploring the seams in their anatomy and dragging your fingers dangerously close to the openings in their frames, but there’s very little you can do when you’re busy getting plowed by two giant alien lifeforms. Knock Out, after having given you the most mind-blowing orgasm with his tongue alone, has fucked you so thoroughly you were practically on your own intergalactic voyage through space as Breakdown held you against his frame, having taken the brunt of his partner’s sexual frustration before they even dared to involve your squishy human insides. Dripping with two kinds of transfluids (the valve and the spike kind) you were gazing at them all blearily, looking unsexy as hell like you just got out of a car crash (minus the blood and with more alien cum). The warmth in their optics felt surreal and welcoming. You were small and fleshy against two titans who have witnessed more beauty than you ever will in your entire human life, but it was as though you were the center of their universe. If you hadn’t been crying from getting the best orgasms of your life, you would have teared up. Now, passed over to Knock Out – whose chassis you’ve grown accustomed to enough to relegate any sadness caused by watching his shiny plating be smudged by your natural oils to the back of your mind – you whimper and steer as his far too competent tongue drags across your neck, servos holding your ass still while Breakdown continues at a steady pace. “Holy shit-” you mumble, words cut short as the holder of the biggest dick you’ve ever had cups your cheek and kisses the side of your mouth. For all his eagerness, he’s softer than Knock Out, especially for a bot as big as him who looks like he crushes cars between his servos (which may actually be true considering the hammers he can summon to for melee). Another climax rolls through you, harder than the last one, inciting a pathetic high pitched anime girl mewl from your part. Breakdown grunts against your ear, metal whirring underneath his frame and against your back as your walls clamp down on him hard enough to drag out his long-overdue overload. His noises only serve to excite Knock Out who captures your lips with his and grinds his still-pressurized spike against the sensitive cluster of nerves between your legs. You come out of your trance having experienced your own death and resurrection, eyes misty and perpetually confused as you wake on the doctor’s slightly softer than steel berth with him hovering over you like a predator. It doesn’t take long for you to notice Breakdown’s fingers stroking your cheek, and once he knows he has your attention, he slips one of his massive digits between your thighs to begin rubbing against the long abused and overused sweet spot. Looking down at Knock Out’s gorgeous spike, you whisper a prayer to Primus Himself as you’re once again assailed by inhumane pleasure.

[bluewolfangel01]

Man, there's so much that I want! But most of all, I wanna hear you say "Happy birthday." C'mon, I'm waitin'. Whenever you're ready. -Mammon's birthday notification

Context: Mammon and Mc are in Mc's room watching a movie Mammon picked, while he lays his head in their lap while on their bed

Mc:"Hey Mammon..."

Mammon:"Yeah?" He says while looking up towards Mc's face

Mc: leans down close to his head with a soft smile on their face "Happy Birthday" then kisses Mammon on his forehead

Mammon: silent for a moment but afterwards gently guides Mc so he can cuddle and be the big spoon

Mammon: "y-yeah yeah, just watch the movie."

...

Mammon: "thanks"

Mammon then holds Mc even closer, kisses their shoulder, and the pair continue to watch the movie till they fall asleep.

Happy semi-late B-day Mams🎉

Credit to @sister-lucifer for divider

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[calmbigdipper]

What you mean to me

[too-damn-good-for-growing-old]

Dallas Winston looks Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade in the eyes and tells them that he loves them.

Those are not the words he uses. Of course they aren’t. His words are rougher around the edges — Dally knows he’s the furthest thing from articulate and that’s just fine with him — but it seems like the kids get what he’s saying. He hopes they do, at least, because Dally doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to say it again.

But he has to say it once, because Pony and Johnny deserve to know.

Darrel is the one to help him realize it, oddly enough. How he feels about them. How much they actually mean to him. It isn’t until the eldest Curtis stands inches away from his face and outright accuses him of not giving a shit that it occurs to Dally that he actually does.

It’s why he gave Johnny that blade. Came back to bite him in the ass, since no good deed goes unpunished, but he’d wanted to protect the kid. And give him the ability to protect himself. Dallas showed little Johnny Cade how to kill a man because he loves him. More than anything.

Ponyboy, too. Baby Curtis the smartypants, Dally loves him. Pipsqueak’s somehow both too intelligent for his own good and needs to get his head out of the clouds at the same time; it’s almost impressive. If anything happened to that kid, Dallas would never forgive himself. He knows Darrel would never forgive him either.

So he understands why Darrel says what he does. He’s an asshole, but he just wants what’s best for his kid brother. In that way, he’s not different from Dallas at all. It’s about time someone told him so.

And if Darrel Curtis gets to know that Dally has a beating heart underneath all his worn leather and concrete bones and wolfish smile, then hell. The people it beats for should know too.

They both smile when he tells them. Johnny’s is small and grateful, just like him, while Pony’s is surprised and proud. The expression flickers on and off of their faces quickly, because the circumstances ain’t exactly fit for sunshine and rainbows, but Dally sees the way they smile. He supposes it means they’re okay with it, then. Being his little brothers. It’s a relief.

Dallas Winston has loved Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade like they were his own for a long time. It just never seemed important to tell them til now, is all. He’s always assumed the mushy stuff went without saying. But then they both almost got killed (glory, they almost got killed) and the only thing Dally can think while King Shit Curtis practically spits in his face is that he could’ve lost them. They almost went six feet under without ever knowing that they’re the closest thing to family Dally’s ever had.

No one’s ever told Dallas that they love him. He could give a rat’s ass. But Pony and Johnny are loved, and they should know. Especially Johnnycakes, because Dallas would be willing to bet everything he’d win at the rodeo that no one’s ever said it to him either. And unlike Dally, Johnny actually does want to know that someone cares.

So screw Darrel and his holier-than-thou crap, and screw being made of stone, and screw waiting til later because later might not come.

Dallas tells the kids that he loves them. He tells them in his own way, and he doesn’t expect anything in return.

But when Johnny says, “We think of you the same way, Dally, ain’t it, Ponyboy?” and Ponyboy says, “Heck yes.”

Dally hears the “we love you too” loud and clear.

[blackrosesandwhump]

#17 Poison

From this Gothic whump challenge.

CW: vampire whumper, poison, blood

The vampire ripped his fangs from his victim’s neck. Just a little more. But he knew, gripping the man’s limp form, that a little more always meant death.

Gently, he laid the human down.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping blood from his mouth. Just a little more. Please. “It’ll wear off after a while.” He glanced at the man’s body, then took off his own coat and spread it out over the cold ground. He placed the human on top. The man lay motionless, his breathing shallow, eyes wide and terrified.

“I’m sorry,” the vampire repeated. A useless refrain.

His fangs throbbed as he slipped into the night. Their venom burned at the corner of his mouth. The same venom that now coursed through his victim’s paralyzed body.

I’m sorry.

[necrotic-nephilim]

What's so fun about BruJay as a ship is Jason's sheer obsessive devotion to Bruce. Jason is possessive over Bruce, to the point he doesn't care about the deaths of others so long as he has Bruce's attention. A part of the UTRH arc this isn't talked about enough is that Bludhaven fucking explodes mid-way and Jason won't let Bruce see if Dick is alive.

batman (1940) #650

A lot of discussion about UTRH paints Jason as this anger-driven cold, calculating machine up against Bruce when it's so clear that his love for Bruce is what drives him at his root, even if he won't acknowledge it. He says it himself, he would've done anything if it was Bruce who'd died instead of him and his anger is rooted in that possessive devotion not being reciprocated.

batman (194) #650

BruJay as a ship always to be, to some level, unrequited. Even if Bruce loves Jason back in that way, he'll never be that obsessed with Jason. Jason will always view Bruce's love for Dick or Tim to be a distraction, proof that Bruce isn't dedicated enough to him. Jason has the need to always have Bruce's attention, even when it could come at the cost of Bruce's other loved ones. Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love in how Jason wants to consume Bruce's whole existence. He can't let Bruce leave him again, can't let Bruce love or grieve anyone else. Forcing Bruce to choose between Jason and the Joker isn't just about confronting Jason's killer, it's about confronting the other person who exists as this duality with Bruce and consumes so much of Bruce's life. That's the role Jason wants to fill, calling himself Red Hood and forcing Bruce to look at what he's become. But still loving Bruce and wanting more than anything for Bruce to reciprocate that love in the way that Jason understands. I just think it's good soup and rife with Dynamics that are underexplored with them.

[realchemistry]

"Masks" - A few things about tonight's episode and what's ahead

~9-1-1 spoilers ahead~

Let me get this out of the way first: Eddie sucking on that ring pop... I never understood the "don't ask me the color of anything" and "babygirl" concepts more than I did then. Also: both Buck and Eddie having the same Christmas picture of them with Chris and abuela? I'm fine. The ending montage with Eddie being alone looking at his pic from Halloween with Chris... no, I'm really, I'm okay.

The BuckandEddie of it all:

It's interesting that they kept pairing Eddie up with other members of the team during calls but Eddie was all over Buck still. Like... they are partners, and they continue to be like at the pumpkin call (LUBE? PLEASE, I AM BEGGING), but Eddie was with Buck at the hospital (both for Buck and Denny) and at Buck's loft and at the station too.

Buck and Eddie are always entangled in each other's business but this season's been like a whole other level. The framing, the dialogue, everything about them is pointed as fuck and it's no coincidence (the lube, I can't get over it!!!), of that I'm sure.

This episode, which had a lot of Buck and T, had a ton of Eddie in between them which allowed us to see their dynamic and it was a sight. We had Eddie in the hospital room, by Buck's bedside, asking the doctor questions, while T was on the other side of the door, observing. Eddie was there to tend to Buck's boils and reassure him it'd be fine and even bet and shake on it to try and keep Buck from spiraling while T was just... there. Eddie was apparently distracted on his phone, sucking on a freaking ring lollipop (looking at Buck like that!!!!!) but he was actually well in tune with Buck and what he was doing and Buck protested his boyfriend's claims that he had been picking on his boils but he didn't argue with Eddie about it at all.

So yeah, Buck has a boyfriend that could fit right in, being a firefighter and getting more into the 118's business and sharing time with Buck and his BFF in the whole wide world. This episode showed in part how T didn't fit exactly right (why were they not sleeping on the bed, I'm so confused...), how Buck realized that and sent him a message that he wanted him to. And I think they will make it past the next episode, actually, because I have a feeling that if tptb are going where we all think/want them to go with Eddie, they might want to establish that on its own.

And they would also want to do what Oliver said and take it slow on the Buddie front, and I know it's been slow enough, but Oliver and Ryan have alluded to wanting the story to develop naturally and to not have them be bi/gay and into each other because of the message that could send. I have a feeling that means reaching Buddie after both have time to go through self-realizations away from each other and having Buck be in a relationship actually serves that scenario better. At least for a little while, then they can let the pining begin.

Some other things:

The thing about this show that I both adore and dislike is that I know every main is gonna be okay (there was only ever one exception to this) and they're not going to kill one of their children either. So I simply couldn't get into the mindset of feeling sad over Denny dying because I knew he wasn't going to.

I love that we got more HenRen and I wish next time Karen and Eddie share a scene, it'll be a less tragic one. I love Denny so much, the actor is so good and such a cutie, I'm glad he got to shine. It's also funny that once you get old enough in the show, you're fair game to be in harm's way. Rite of passage.

Chim was so scary and cute and great as well. I just think Kenny's so good at everything and the show sometimes failed to properly take advantage of his skills so I'm glad they're finally getting to showcase his range fully and all at once.

Peter was also having the time of his life being a carefree version of Bobby, and I'm here for it.

Josh's whole costume being Eddie's mustache. Plus Buck also having one. Ryan, the man that you are.

Maddie, once again, going for the kitty ears.

The teacher... I know her pain.

About the next episode ~more spoilers~:

They really are having an "Eddie Begins" type of emergency on an episode called "Confessions" which will focus on Eddie. I'm sure it's gonna be just fine. I'm sure nothing major will happen with my favorite character in the world, Eddie Díaz. I'm sure.

[exitwound]

Diminutive little preything

[i-swear-its-only-ironical]

I posted my first fanfic today! It's called "Mr.Sunshine and the Prince of Death"

Summary:

It seems as though everyone around Will dies. Angry at the Gods and full of sorrow for the lives he couldn't save, he cries himself to sleep over way too many death certificates.

When he wakes up, he finds himself trapped in the underworld in the domain of a god he never heard of before: Nico di Angelo - The God of Justice in Death. What is he doing here? He should be dead, it was Wills fault! Together they look for a way out of the underworld to bring Will back to the living, where he belongs.

The story of a love that died before it could live.

~

Or: Nico is a god and Will somehow ends up in his throne room.

[vee-lociraptor]

I DID IT I DID THE THING

[extreme-unorthodox-cuddles]

Hello I have returned from the eldritch void pit to provide something that some Evil (but still safe) Thoughts™️ led to the creation of

Overly possessive pred and less than enthusiastic prey that isn't particularly fond of them

Safe vore, halfsize, unwilling prey

Almost out now, nearly to the door. Just a little further to freedom. He snuck through the house in the dead of night, his small size in comparison to everything around him making it easy to move about undetected.

He reached up to the handle, attempting to open the proportionally huge door, but it wouldn't budge. He twisted and pulled it harder, nerves beginning to heighten.

"Now, where are you going at this hour?"

His heart stopped. He flipped around and pressed back hard against the door, eyes fixed on Wulfric directly ahead of them.

"W-wait, please, I just- I just want to leave." Andrew stammered out, heart pounding in his chest. "Ple- please just let me leave."

"Oh, but why on earth would I do that?" he answered, approaching the quivering would-be escapee, "The world out there is so cruel, but I'm keeping you safe here. You have everything you could ever want here."

Wulfric stopped right in front of him and squatted down slightly to have their faces be a bit closer together. In a fit of panic, Andrew flung his arms at them, but he caught them with ease and wrapped his fist around both of his wrists and hoisted them up to have their faces be level with each other.

"Now then," Wulfric stated, a menacing grin on their face, "I'd better put you somewhere nice and safe so that you won't be tempted to wander off again~"

Andrew's heart plummeted. "N-n-no, wait, please! I'm sorry, please don't, I'm sorry!" He wriggled about, trying to free himself of Wulfric's grip, but it had no effect, and his pleas were quickly muffled as his head was stuffed into Wulfric's gaping mouth.

A mixture of tears and saliva covered Andrew's face as his arms were freed briefly before being pinned to his sides as Wulfric began to swallow him down, his legs writhing in a futile escape attempt. He felt gravity shift as he leaned his head back to swallow him easier, and Andrew felt his powerful throat muscles pulling him deeper in, still silently crying.

Wulfric gave a few more gulps, hauling him further down each time, until Andrew's feet finally disappeared, and he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He looked down at the bulge in their torso and gave it a couple firm pats. "There we go, much better~"

Andrew jolted slightly with each impact he felt on his back, curled up in a fetal position. They could hear Wulfric's voice all around them. "I do love when my meals are active~ But that doesn't matter now, you're all mine, my delicious little prey~" His words sending shivers down his spine. His quiet sobs were drowned out by the groaning of the stomach they were trapped in.

Andrew felt the telltale shifting of walking before feeling his gravity change again, now with stronger pressure on his front. A hand glided up and down his back, no doubt Wulfric revelling in the sensation of being full. "I'll let you out after I get up, so you better get comfy in there~"

Another night spent in this fleshy prison. Sure, it was safe, but still far from preferable. But Andrew had no say in the matter, so he had to reluctantly accept his temporary fate.

He cried himself to sleep again.