#[x] filed under: starter

[touchbased]

open to: m/nb muse: vera antonov, though she currently goes by alison. late twenties. former spy/current assassin masking as a real estate agent. borderline sociopathic. devil in a pink chanel suit. plot: basic "sure, they might love you, but would they kill for you??" toxic goodness! bonus points for a mr. and mrs. smith (the tv show) type vibe (aka another spy she's been paired up with/is pretending to be married to)

"hm?" isn't looking at them as she hums nonchalantly, instead focusing on the dinner she's preparing. chicken piccata, just like mama used to make, she'd told them once upon a time. supposes it could be true; that somewhere in the world, there's a antonov woman who loves to make chicken piccata and doesn't care that she abandoned her little girl. there's a blood stain on the cuff of her white dress shirt sleeve, somehow still, and she frowns delicately as she makes a mental note to visit the dry cleaners. "oh, carolina? from next door?" the one that was blatantly hitting on him, despite knowing full well vera exists? the one who's now at the bottom of the ocean, while the cops search her house for evidence of a kidnapping? "well, she was bothering you. so i took care of her."

[mariemort]

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩.

[iceonneo]

office ; z.cl

chenle x fem! reader ˗ˏˋ ꒰ peek : voice caught in your throat as you felt him dragging down the dress zipper by his mouth. “I'll make it quick." ｡° warnings : swear words, unprotected sex, light degradation, edging, orgasms, dirty talk, use of names !! mdni ¡¡ ꒱

Tapping of the leather of the sofa, your eyes flickered towards the door knob as it began to twist.

In came your husband. His hand automatically pushing his hair back, other hand carrying a cup of coffee before he pushed the door behind him close by leaning on it. A sigh left his mouth and his vision landed on you.

His eyes lit up before darkening as his gaze trailed down your body. “You’re here?” He asked, voice breathless, setting down his coffee.

“Well you asked for me, didn’t you?” You exhaled before getting up as you walked over, hands immediately fixing his tie. “Yeah.” Chenle said, looking at your new dress that hugged your body way too good.

“Chenle, seriously, how could you forget those files?”

“Well, at least I get to see my wife, don’t I?” He cracked a grin causing you to throw your head back in frustration, a small laugh escaping your lips nevertheless, “Thank god you own the company so you’re not getting in trouble. What am I gonna do with you?”

Detaching your fingers from his tie, you walked around turning away from him, looking at the documents on his table, making sure they were the right ones for the upteenth time.

“Well for starters,” Chenle walked over, hands in pockets and his coral hair shining under the sunlight leaking through the blinds in his office. His figure right behind yours that slightly leaned against the table.

“You can be a good girl while I backshot right into you.” He whispered, his voice hitting your nape as you snorted, “The fuck?” Your attention diverting towards his hands that had started to travel from your sides to your thighs from behind.

Sending a warning glare towards him from the side you kept your hands over his, “Your meeting literally starts in 30 minutes by the way and we’re in your offi-”

Voice caught in your throat as you felt him dragging down the dress zipper by his mouth. “C-Chenle.” You said, trying to appear as stern as possible.

“I’ll make it quick.” He mumbled as his hands grabbed yours situating them over his belt. As if you already know what to do, your fingers already started unbuckling.

“Chenle we shouldn’t,” You breathed out as he rotated your hips, turning you around, “We shouldn't.” He nodded before tilting his head, smashing his lips, mouth all over yours.

Mouths moving fast and rhythmically against each others as your hands landed on his chest, “We should stop…”

“Totally.” He said before latching his mouth to your neck as the both of your hands landed on the table for support. His hand gripping your waist and the other dragging your zip completely down. The way his mouth sucked everywhere, leaving kisses and the way his tongue knew just how to turn you on. You could already feel yourself getting wet.

He was one of the most stubborn man you knew.

And before you know it, You were turned around again, against the table this time.

Feeling the air hit your bare back and bottom, you hissed. “Chenle, not here.” So intoxicated by him, you didn’t even when he unzipped himself and got his dick out.

“As you say.” He said and there it was. His cock entering you from behind as you held your breath, eyes shut and eyebrows pulled together. Though you couldn’t see him you know damn well how hard and throbbing his pale, pink dick must've been. “Couldn’t even hold back for a few minutes, could you?” You got out through your gritted teeth, head against the glass table.

“I didn’t even get this dick moving yet so fucking wet, aren't you?” He snapped back. The cockiness almost making you let a curse you before you felt him plunge into you. A loud moan left your lips before you slapped your palm to the mouth.

“Be a little quiet if you don’t want the entire management team to press their ears against the doors.” He said before gripping your sides, moving faster.

Body shaking with every thrust and you felt your knees get weaker. You struggled to keep your balance, your palms slipping slightly on the glass surface. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it harder to stay silent.

Chenle leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Being fucked where anyone could walk in at any moment.”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle another moan. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible.

He chuckled darkly, his pace quickening. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name.”

The way his cock, now coated with your fluids slid in and out, The pace making you see stars. He stretched you out so good, the position was too good, The feeling of him hitting each and every spot- it was all too good. Your grip tightened on the table as you felt the pressure building inside you. The risk, the thrill, it was all too much. You were close, so close.

“Sir?” A knock was heard from outside as your eyes widened. It were almost like a glass shattering inside your head as you came back to your senses.

Pushing him out of you, you quickly got up, zipping your dress back.

Chenle cursed loudly before composing himself, “Yes?” He said, loud enough for his secretary to hear from the outside.

“Sorry to interrupt you sir, I’ve come to remind you that the meeting starts roughly in 5 minutes.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, ears turned red as chenle rolled his eyes, annoyance visible in his tone “Yeah, you might as well leave now.”

“Fuck, the entire building is gonna find out” You screeched into your palms in distress as chenle groaned.

“That fucker donghyuck, I was about to hit it!” He exclaimed dramatically, “Let’s see how long his nosy ass lasts in my comp-”

“Chenle, zip yourself!” You gasped as your hands flew to his crotch, tucking his hanging load back in as you let out a bewildered laugh,

“Baby, should I cancel it?” He whined into your ears, hands around your hips.

You gasped again, turning him around as you pushed him by the butt towards the door, “You better get your ass into that meeting now!”

He laughed loudly, way too loudly, getting out the door as he winked your way, mouthing ‘wait till we get home.’ before he shut the door close while you chuckled to yourself.

ཐིཋྀ˚彡

Chenle didn't play when he meant wait till we get home.

The way he was devouring you wasn't helping. His tongue diving into every crease of yours only fueled to your high. the way his hot mouth sucked on your core as if he were some starved ass animal, the way his eyes occasionally looked up at yours just to admire that pretty face of yours, all fucked up and out of it just because of him.

Your thighs tense and red in contrast to his pale hand gripping your legs to keep you wide open. Trails of moans leaving your mouth as he finally found your spot, teasing you with it.

"C-Chenle please oh.." You got out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at your man below.

"Please what, baby?" He asked lowly, his breath hitting your open core. The sensation only making you squirm as you frowned. Chenle tutted before dragging his thumb along your slit, testing your patience.

You almost cried out, wanting him so bad. "Oh, please fuck me chenle fuc- OH FUCK" a squeal left your lips when you felt him suck on your sweet spot. His tongue and lips absolutely wrecking you. your eyes rolled way back your head and the grip of your hands over the sheets intensified.

"Just l-like that" You encouraged, tangling your fingers through his pink hair guiding him into yourself as he increased the friction without a complaint. His tongue moving in circles around the spot as you felt yourself get light headed almost. The feeling of it lighting up a fire in your stomach as you felt it coming. "Baby, I'm gonna- gonna cum" Were your last words before you burst and chenle watched you drip.

"So pretty, my baby." He murmured as he grabbed your hands, kissing the knuckle top.

Too fucked out too even process him on top of you until you felt his lips on yours. Reciprocating the kiss back, you felt his dick tease at your entrance.

your hands that gripped the couch transferred over to his hair as you groaned into his mouth, wanting more.

You had taken one step into the house and chenle had already locked the door, flung the curtains close and pinned you over to the couch right away before tearing your dress off you. God forbid you breathe peacefully one night even, your pussy had not known peace since you married this man. This man, also the love of your life.

"Oh fuck, you're gonna take me in baby?" Chenle asked against your mouth as your head dipped further against the armrest, frowning as you hummed in response.

His dick, hard and solid from replaying the picture of you bent over all meeting long, slid inside you as your mouth fell agape, at a loss of words. Not even given enough time to process and your legs were over his shoulder. His hands gripping your thighs as your legs thrown over him were already shaking.

"chen- oh fuck" was all you could get out when your husband started moving. No warning, no cockwarming nothing but straight up bang bang bang into that pussy.

Your cursed into air as his slams grew relentless. Each thrust sending a shock in your body as the moment felt way too good to be true. your nails dug into the couch as your body jolted up and down with his thrusts.

The sound of skin slapping against each other filling the room. You moaned as you felt him hit a certain spot. Chenle slowed down, a smirk fixed on his face as the grip on your thighs never left, "Oh is that your spot baby?"

Too fucked out to even hold an ounce of shame you moaned loudly as his tip dragged across the particular area, slow and torturing. "Chenle please.." You whispered out, wanting him more than ever. He raised his brows slightly, "Words, baby." He loved, absolutely loved the sight of you fucked out, contrasting from the character you were on a daily basis. Always as egoistic as him and Collected, but under the influence of his dick you turned nothing but his whore.

"Chenle please fuck me, I need to feel you deep inside me ple...- oh."

The sight was driving him crazy. Your hair messy, face flushed and eyes closed, brows pulled to a frown, lips caged by your teeth holding back the shameful lewd noises you wanted to moan out loud to let the whole city know how good this cock was, sweat covering your body, tits bouncing slightly and nipples hard as he thrusted slow into your tight cunt, full of your juices that leaked out whenever he moved back.

"Fucking hell" He groaned as he pulled out, gaze glued to your pussy, swollen, puffy and wet- wet would be an understatement, flooded actually. His attention quickly catching up to the stringy whines leaving your mouth.

Wasting no time, He gripped your inner thighs with force as he rammed his cock back. The feeling already awakening the rippling sensation in your stomach again as your hooked your ankles from the behind oh his neck, bringing your cores closer as chenle grunted. Your moans breathless loud and pitched than before with thighs thunderously shaking under his palms gave chenle the signal he needed.

He slipped on of his hands below, over the connection of your bodies, immediately pressing his thumb over your bud as you choked on your own moan. gasping loudly as you moaned his name over and over again.

His sloppy girthy dick plumbing into you along with the added stimulation of his fingers over your clit, rubbing in circles harshly made you lose your mind almost. The moans of your both bouncing off the walls as chenle practically thrashed you against the couch.

You didn't even know the couch could shake until today.

"Fuck, fuck fuck, I'm gonna.." You trailed off, attention diverted towards the wave of pleasure of your high washing over you as you arched your back to a maximum against the leather. Your slick flowing out of your hole over his dick making a mess. Chenle never stopped his dick, nor his fingers, pumping you over and over again as his grunts began frequently.

"C-chenle" you whimpered out, pussy already swollen, drenched and overstimulated. Yet the beast on top of you wouldn't budge a bit.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill your pussy up, I'm gonna have my load all over you, sit up." Nodding out of your daze, you slowly rose up, moving your thighs off his shoulders as chenle continued to fuck you. The way he had been pounding this dick into you since the past three hours, you just know you were bedridden for the week.

Giving final jerks into you, he moaned out as he flooded you. The warmth filling you from the inside as you felt complete. when your hole was leaking to the brim, he pulled out. Bringing his dick to your face as he fisted the remaining of his liquids out. His cum decorating your face, dripping off your chin right onto your nipple.

The sight so fucking unreal he thought he could come over again just by looking. "fuck baby" he breathed out before getting off the top of you, his palms over your knees as he spread you out. Your legs opened as he got a view of your core.

Almost as if he were beyond stunned he let his eyes rake over the sight. pussy still tight, bright, throbbing. fully swollen and coated with your slick. Your entrance oozing out his cum, white liquid dripping down, he was gonna go insane. As if hypnotized, he got his finger out, gathering and stuffing his seed back into you.

"Oh hell no, stop it" you groaned into your palms, feeling your conscious and shame take over. Chenle rose to his feet, fingers still burried deep in you, coating your walls white with his fingers, "Baby, can you take one mor-"

His sentence cut short before you detached yourself, thrashing a pillow over his face suffocating him almost as the poor guy below raised his hands by the side in defense.

With a huff, you got up already making your way to the bathroom with your wobbly legs as chenle pulled the pillow off, letting his laughter die down, "Baby wait, you can't walk I need to help you."

His arm extended out grabbing a towel as he quickly followed behind, "I heard if you fuck an even number of times, the universe grants you a long life so we might need to make that nine rounds a ten lets shower se-"

"ZHONG CHENLE!"

an original iceonneo work.

[shellseaisms]

little blue "starter" home.

clickbait title because this isn't a starter home at all, it's actually very expensive! I usually call these "stepping stone homes", but my brain hiccuped as I was naming and exporting this house. sorry about that! here's a 1 bedroom (+ a nursery "nook" in the bedroom) house that's mostly designed to be used as somewhere to live between moving out from under the parents roof and starting a family of your own. also a random empty house right next to it purely because I was in the mood for it. idk, I think it's cute and I hope you like it too!

custom content used: find all cc links for this build here.

§56,595 furnished, §7,823 unfurnished

1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

40 x 30 lot size

custom content included with package file

built in rosewood hills

‣ ‎ ‎ download, more screenshots + speed build below.

‣ ‎ ‎speed build

‣ ‎ ‎download

furnished: package // sims3pack

place the file ending in '_library' in your library folder (documents/electronic arts/the sims 3/library) regardless of what version you choose to install. for package downloaders, the file ending in '_mods' goes in your mods folder.

note: custom content is not included with the sims3pack.

unfurnished // library file only (furnished, cc not included)

‣ ‎ ‎more screenshots

[pastelghoul]

hello! I love your connor work :) I just finished my first play through of DBH and I’m in love with Connor 😭 could I possibly request a scenario? Maybe one where reader is a detective working a case with him at the DPD and since he’s this advanced prototype and doesn’t need food/warmth and everything they feel a bit like.. inadequate as a human compared to him? And how he would make them feel better? Sorry this is a long ask 😅 love your work and hope you’re having a lovely day!!

Only Human - Connor x Reader

More than happy to! Had a lot of fun writing this one - Imagine Connor comforting you after feeling inadequate working alongside him on a case

“___? Are you alright?” Connor asked, peeking over your desk at your slouched form; one hand supported your chin as the other clung loosely onto a pen, your eyes drooping shut. Whatever you had been writing on the sticky note now had a large pen-strike through it.

“Huh? Sorry, i dozed off.” You said, squinting at the clock on your computer. It read 12:38 am in small, white letters. Honestly, you were exhausted. This case was your top priority however, solving it had the chance to land you a promotion you desperately needed.

Of course, you were no Hank Anderson. That promotion was just wishful thinking. Looking over at Connor, you sighed. You certainly were no android, either. You watched as he typed away, eyes scanning the screen intently as he worked on the case.

The ability to never tire, what a blessing. All the things you could get done if you never needed to rest; You’d tidy your desk, for starters. The mess of documents and files scattered across your desk, not to mention the near-overflowing trashcan resting at your feet.

Compared to Connor, who’s desk was neat and tidy save for a succulent, a photo frame of the three of you (with Hank and you five beers deep) and a sticky note taped to his monitor. Craning your neck as you hunched across the desk, you narrowed your eyes at what it said.

dipshit

Gavin. Reaching across the desk you ripped the sticky note from the monitor, Connor quirking a brow as you did so.

“I’m sorry ___, did I do something to upset you? Would you rather I’d let you sleep?” Connor asked, watching as you scrunched up the note and threw it in the trash.

“No Connor, it’s fine. I’m gonna head home and get some sleep. Goodnight.” You waved as you made your way out of the station.

You awoke to a loud knocking on your front door. Looking over at your alarm clock, your eyes widened as you realised you had overslept. Shit, shit, shitshitshit, Hank’s gonna have my ass for this!

Dashing to get dressed and find your shoes, you almost ran headfirst into a firm chest. Looking up in bewilderment at the android stood in your living room, you cursed under your breath.

“Connor? How did you get inside?” Connor held up a small, silver key - you’d entirely forgotten you’d given him your spare. “Oh, right. I was just about to leave, uh-“ Connor quirked a brow, looking you up and down.

“Your shirt is on backwards.” Connor mused, smirking as you grabbed at your collar to indeed be greeted by the sizing tag. “You also seem to be missing your pants.”

“Give me a minute, I just woke up!” You grumbled, pushing past Connor to make a coffee. Your heart sunk as the machine groaned to life, only to come to a shuddering death moments later. Fuck me backwards with a chainsaw, can’t even get a coffee without something going wrong.

This was not starting out to be a good day. You turned around to see Connor sitting across from you, perched patiently at your kitchen island, hands resting in his lap.

“I brought you a coffee, you had a late night last night. I thought you might’ve slept in considering the state you were in when you left the station last night.” The android pushed a brown disposable cup towards you, steam dancing welcomingly from the hole in the lid.

“Thanks Connor.” You offered a half smile, taking the beverage and sipping it as you made your way back to fix your clothes. As you were changing, a muffled voice arose from the kitchen; at first you thought Connor was talking to himself, however upon walking out you realised it was a news report.

“Detroit Police are reportedly expecting a brand new line of android detectives, the first prototype currently running a probationary period to decide…” you slunk quietly back to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as your hands cradled your head.

By all accounts, you loved working with Connor. He was an amazing partner and friend, and an even better detective. The problem was he was too efficient.

Connor couldn’t fall asleep working on cases, he didn’t get tired so there was no need to rest. He was available 24/7, never late, always on time to the millisecond. He certainly didn’t need to drink coffee or eat to keep his energy up.

Connor was the prime example of a perfect being, in every sense of the word. He left you looking like burnt toast. Tears stung your eyes; not sad tears, rather unadulterated frustration.

Fuck…

“___? What’s wrong? Did I get the wrong coffee?” Connor asked, peeking in hesitantly through the doorway. You scoffed at the absurdity of the question. The coffee was perfect. Everything he did was perfect, yet you couldn’t even wake up on time. Wiping your arm across your eyes, you forced a smile.

“No, no the coffee is fine. I’m ok, just overwhelmed by the case is all.” Connor tilted his head as he analysed you, coming to sit beside you. The bed sunk with his weight, the thrown sheets ruffling against his movement.

“I’ve been proven to have excellent listening skills.” Connor nudged you gently. “Talk to me, please.” You sighed, resting your head on Connor’s shoulder.

“Everything you do is perfect, Connor.”

“I don’t understand, are you saying I’m too efficient at my job?” Connor asked as his LED spun amber circles upon his temple.

“No, not that - well actually, kind of. Just listen.” You stammered, pinching the bridge of your nose in thought. “You don’t make mistakes. You don’t get tired or hungry, or hell even need bathroom breaks. Every move you make is efficient and calculated.”

Connor looked down at you, watching as you caught a stray tear with your finger. He sat in silence, listening as you vented your pent-up frustration to him.

“I’m only human.” You raised a hand, looking at how fragile the human form really was. “I could never be as good of a detective as you are.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Connor stated, resting his hand on yours. You noticed how much larger than your own hand his was, how realistic his pores were, the tips of his fingernails flawlessly sculpted - a faultless imitation of life itself.

“I may be incredibly efficient, but there is one thing i lack.” Connor met your tired gaze. “Emotions.” You scoffed, the irony of the situation hitting you.

“Connor, I am sitting here crying to you about how inadequate I feel, and you try to tell me these same emotions somehow make me better?” Connor gripped your hand tighter, not once breaking eye contact.

“You can feel so many things, ___. You can laugh, cry, fall in love…” Connor paused, finally looking away. “Without emotion, you’re just another soulless machine.”

“Connor…” you started, however words failed you as you found yourself unable to grasp the right thing to say. Instead, Connor wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer against him in a comforting embrace.

“You have the freedom to choose what you want to do, where you want to go, be who you want to be. Androids don’t get that choice. We’re built to serve one single purpose in life then dismantled once that purpose is fulfilled.”

“I never thought about it like that…” You confessed as you leaned into Connor, taking in his words as the two of you now sat in silence. It was a while before either of you spoke again, taking it upon yourself to break the peaceful quiet.

“Thanks for the coffee and uh, coming over. Talking about this really helped.” You mumbled the last part, a subtle hue of embarrassment painting your cheeks; working with Hank, neither of you ever really talked about your feelings. Connor smiled in response, patting your head. You leaned away, raising a brow at him.

“I heard it was a comforting gesture. Gavin said so. You rolled your eyes, leaning back into Connor.

“Remind me to kick Gav’s ass when I see him next.”

“Of course, detective.” Connor mused, entwining his fingers with yours.

Want more? Check out my Masterlist <3

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

On Tuesday, we learned that Elon Musk is not actually part of the Department of Government Efficiency (“DOGE”) that he is utilizing to wage a war on federal agencies. Rather he’s a “Senior Advisor to the President" and as such as a “special government employee.” But there are a few things we have long known about Musk. For starters, he has made billions from the federal government. As the NY Times reported recently, “Musk’s companies secured $13 billion in contracts over the past five years.” While Musk is gutting agencies that help Americans from the FAA to the National Labor Relations Board, Musk’s companies saw nearly $4 billion in government contracts in 2024—with lots more on the way in 2025 given his close ties to Trump. And second—while this has received less attention---Musk’s companies were being investigated by various federal agencies during the Biden administration. As the NY Times found, in January 2025, there were 32 continuing investigations into Musk’s six companies being led by at least 11 different federal agencies. These ranged from discrimination complaints filed by Black Tesla workers to potential stock fraud to consumer complaints about Tesla and more.

Some of the most visible investigations into Musk’s companies include the FAA seeking $633,000 in civil penalties against SpaceX for “allegedly failing to follow its license requirements during two launches in 2023.” The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) suing Musk for violating the Securities Exchange Act by failing to divulge to the public he had purchased more than five percent of Twitter stock as he was seeking to take over that company. If the public had known Musk had purchased the stock, the price would’ve jumped costing Musk more money to be future stock shares. The SEC is seeking disgorgement of ill-gotten gains and other penalties. Then there is the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB)—a watchdog agency for workers—that is pursuing at least 24 investigations into Tesla, SpaceX and other Musk companies. And the list goes on.

But since Musk has come to power with his DOGE operatives, he has targeted the very agencies that were investigating him. In fact, Democrats on the House Judiciary Committee--led by Rep. Jamie Raskin--recently released a fact sheet that details how Trump and DOGE are “punishing” agencies that were investigating Musk. Examples cited by the House Democrats include the NLRB investigation on behalf eight Space X employees fired “in retaliation for speaking critically of Musk.” And a lawsuit by the E.E.O.C. that sued Musk’s Tesla for widespread and “ongoing racial harassment of its Black employees” and retaliation. These investigations appeared to have ground to a halt because Trump recently fired the E.E.O.C. commissioners and the chair of the NLRB. Trump also fired the Inspector General for the Dept of Labor that oversees both. And when Trump replaces these people—if ever—it’s expected to be with people who will be pro-Musk.

[...] To answer these questions, I filed a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request with the various agencies that were reportedly investigating Musk’s companies. My hope is to uncover information about the status of the investigations of Musk from the consumer complaints to the FAA fines. Federal law requires these agencies disclose any information requested under the FOIA unless the information falls into one of nine exemptions. Of course, the law doesn’t matter to Trump nor Musk as we are seeing. It will be telling if Trump’s regime ignores my requests for info concerning Musk. But that doesn’t mean that you and I should not request it—which you can easily do online. I will of course update people on anything I receive. We have never seen these types of brazen conflicts of interest, self-dealing and corruption playing out for all to see. The anger of the people is growing. And at some point, there will be a reckoning for Musk and the other oligarchs. The only question is what does that look like?!

Dean Obeidallah explores the reasons why Donald Trump ordered the federal investigations into his co-”President” Elon Musk ended.

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.6k

chapter: 9/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE AVENGERS WERE GATHERED in the briefing room, the mood tense as Tony finished going over the information they’d just uncovered about Hydra’s “Project Eclipse.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said, rubbing his temples. “They’re planning to shut down the country’s infrastructure, unleash a virus, and mind-control half the population?”

“That’s about the gist of it,” Natasha replied, her tone dry. “And let’s not forget the sleeper agents waiting to dismantle everything from the inside.”

“It’s like a supervillain starter pack,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “All they’re missing is a volcano lair and a maniacal laugh.”

Tony snorted, though his expression remained grim as he glanced at Bruce and Steve. “And it’s not just theoretical anymore. They’re ready to go operational. We’re running out of time.”

Just then, FRIDAY’s voice came through, unusually tense. “Sir, I’m detecting an unauthorized breach in the tower’s security system.”

Before anyone could respond, the hum of machinery filled the room, and then, without warning, a swarm of Hydra drones smashed through the windows, glass shattering everywhere. The air filled with the high-pitched whine of energy weapons as the drones opened fire, and everyone dove for cover.

“Everyone down!” Steve shouted, raising his shield just in time to deflect a burst of energy aimed at Natasha.

“Drones? Seriously?” you shouted over the noise. “How unoriginal.”

“Let’s save the commentary for later,” Tony snapped, already halfway into his suit as his helmet clicked into place. “FRIDAY, release their cuffs.”

Your cuffs fell away with a soft click, and the familiar rush of power surged through you, shadows pooling at your feet, ready and waiting. “Now we’re talking.”

The fighting was relentless, and the drones kept coming. They moved in coordinated waves, almost as if they were responding to every attack the team threw at them.

FRIDAY’s voice broke through the chaos. “Sir, the drones are downloading sensitive files at an alarming rate. They’ve gained access to every file in the Stark Industries database—including your personal archives.”

“Which means,” Clint shouted from across the room as he fired a well-placed arrow into a drone, “they’re not just getting info on our missions—they’re getting everything. Everything about us.”

“Fantastic,” you quipped, shadows darting around as you shot down another drone. “So, what, we’re just an open book for Hydra now? This day just keeps getting better.”

The team fought on, each member taking down drones as they could, but no matter how many they destroyed, more seemed to pour in through every broken window and crevice.

Steve managed to shield a group of you from a blast, his face tense. “We can’t keep this up. These things aren’t stopping.”

One of the drones locked onto you, its targeting laser tracing a line across your chest. Just as you prepared to move, a metal arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the ground. A blast sizzled over your head, close enough that you felt the heat.

“Careful,” he muttered, his gaze lingering on you for a split second before he turned back to fire at the drone.

You blinked, taken aback but grateful, only managing a quick nod before you launched back into the fray. The drones swarmed relentlessly, their energy blasts filling the air with heat and light.

Finally, Tony shouted, “We’re outmatched here! We need to fall back. Now!”

Steve nodded, his shield deflecting another blast as he signaled to the team. “Everyone, head for the stairs. Move!”

One by one, you and the others sprinted for the stairwell, ducking and dodging as drones continued to fire from every direction. You could feel your heart pounding as you rushed down the narrow steps, Bucky close behind you. Natasha led the way, kicking open a side door, and soon you were sprinting down the crowded streets of the city, trying to blend into the crowd and lose the drones.

The team ducked into a small café, breathless and exhausted, doing your best not to attract attention as you found an empty table in the back. The place was quiet, customers chatting and sipping their drinks, completely unaware of the chaos just blocks away.

You sank into a chair, wiping the sweat from your brow as you tried to catch your breath. Clint slid into the seat across from you, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “Did that really just happen?”

Tony leaned forward, his face grim. “They have everything on us now—our pasts, our weaknesses. Hydra’s not just playing games anymore.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Everyone looked around the table, faces grim, each of you realizing just how deeply Hydra had infiltrated.

“Well,” you said quietly, “we’re screwed.”

A waitress placed mugs of coffee on the table, eyeing each of you suspiciously as you all sat, dishevelled and bruised, but everyone was too tired to care. Tony took a long sip, his fingers tapping on the table as he worked out a plan.

“Alright,” he said finally, glancing around the table. “Hydra knows exactly where we are, and they’ve got eyes on us through every camera, satellite, and hacked device in the area. If we go anywhere as one big group, we’ll be an easy target.”

“We need to split up,” Natasha said finally, her voice low and decisive. “Sticking together makes us easier to track.”

Steve nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Hydra’s already got their eyes on us, and staying in one place just makes it easier for them to send more drones, more operatives. Four groups, each heading in different directions.”

“Small teams would make us harder to find,” Sam agreed, glancing around the table. “If we’re scattered, they’d have to spread their resources thin trying to catch us all.”

Tony took out his tablet, grimacing as he remembered Hydra had accessed everything. He tossed it onto the table, frustrated. “We need to ditch the tech. Phones, and tracking devices—all compromised. Anything tied to Stark Industries is under Hydra’s surveillance now.”

“Phones too?” Peter asked, reluctantly sliding his cell onto the table.

Tony sighed, looking at Peter. “Sorry, kid, but yes. Hydra’s got access to everything. The second we power those things back on, they’ll know our every move.”

Peter reluctantly placed his phone down, and the rest of you followed suit, piling phones, earpieces, and other tracking tech on the table.

“So who’s going with who?” Sam asked, glancing around. “Might as well know who I’m babysitting for the next couple of hours.”

“Sam and I will stick together,” Steve said without hesitation. “We’ve got some experience lying low.”

“Natasha and I can pair up,” Clint added, giving her a nod. “We’ll take the west route. We know enough safe spots to lay low for a while.”

“That leaves me with Bruce and the kid,” Tony said, looking resigned but resolved. “I’ve got some equipment stashed in an old Stark facility nearby. We’ll pick up supplies there and head to the mountains.”

You could already feel it coming, the inevitable. You raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who was giving you the same look. “Guess that means we’re stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Bucky let out a low groan, running a hand down his face. “This is not my day.”

Tony smirked, clearly enjoying the pairing. “Well, look on the bright side, Barnes. At least you’ve got a chance to watch her back, since someone is currently without cuffs.”

You shot him a glare but didn’t argue. Bucky eyed you with suspicion, his gaze flicking to your shadow-powered hands before he muttered, “Yeah, great. Just what I needed.”

Everyone exchanged brief, quiet goodbyes, understanding the risk that came with splitting up. Clint and Natasha clasped hands before separating, while Tony ruffled Peter’s hair, giving him a gruff, “Stay close, kid.” Finally, you were all on the move, slipping out of the cafe one by one, trying to blend into the crowd.

You and Bucky broke off in a different direction, heading down a deserted side street, eyes peeled for a vehicle.

“What’s the plan for a ride?” Bucky asked, glancing around at the empty alley, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You stopped as soon as you caught sight of a beat-up, dust-covered old car parked beside a loading dock, half-hidden by a pile of crates. It was an old, rusted Cadillac with chipped paint and a suspicious dent on the side. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, but it was all you had for now.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, eyeing the car like it might fall apart at the touch. “You really think that thing’s gonna open? Let alone start?”

You smirked, ignoring his doubts as you approached the car. “Watch and learn, Barnes.”

First, you pressed your fingers under the handle, feeling around for the gap, and slid out a thin metal lock-pick from your belt. You carefully wedged it into the crack, maneuvering the pick with the precision you’d honed over the years. Bucky watched, clearly not impressed yet, his arms crossed as he leaned against a nearby crate.

“You know, this might actually go faster if you helped,” you muttered, glancing at him.

He just shrugged. “I’m enjoying the show.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on the lock, feeling the tension adjust slightly under your pick until… click. The car door swung open, the stale smell of old upholstery hitting you in the face.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, still unimpressed. “Alright, you got it open. Now let’s see if you can actually get it running.”

You slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning down to mess with the wires under the steering column. You pulled a couple of wires free, twisted them together, and tapped them against the ignition. After a moment of silence, the car roared to life, vibrating as the engine struggled but caught on. You leaned back, a triumphant grin on your face.

“Guess I still got it,” you said, giving Bucky a smug look.

He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. Move over,” he said, nodding toward the passenger seat.

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I’m driving,” he said, one hand already reaching for the steering wheel as he gestured for you to switch seats. “I’d rather not die today, and I don’t trust you behind the wheel.”

You scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I’m a fantastic driver.”

He just raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Sure. And I’m a yoga instructor. Now move.”

Grumbling, you climbed over the center console into the passenger seat, shooting him an exaggerated glare as he slid in and took the wheel. “Alright, fine. But if we end up lost, that’s on you.”

“Noted,” he said, giving the wheel an experimental turn. The car groaned in protest but held together. “Buckle up. This is probably going to be bumpy.”

The mission was only beginning, but the stakes had never felt higher.

The old Cadillac rumbled along the winding road, the distant hum of the city long behind as the countryside stretched out around you in golden fields and thick patches of forest. It had been hours since you and Bucky had left the café, the road empty save for the occasional truck or weather-beaten farmhouse passing by.

To Bucky’s surprise, you had been silent the entire ride. No sarcastic remarks, no teasing. You just sat there, looking out the window, watching the scenery blur past. Every now and then, he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye, expecting a comment, maybe even a smirk, but you just kept staring out the window, lost in thought.

The silence was almost peaceful, but there was something strange about it—something uncharacteristically still that made him feel like he was sitting next to a different person. He shifted in his seat, opening his mouth once or twice to say something, but the words just didn’t come. Maybe you needed the quiet.

But then, suddenly, Tony’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie, and both of you flinched at the sound.

“Alright, check-in time,” Tony’s voice echoed. “Everyone still on the road?”

One by one, the replies came through.

“Yeah, we’re here,” Sam’s voice said, a slight edge of tension in his usually calm tone.

“We’re all good,” Natasha replied next, Clint’s voice in the background, mumbling something inaudible.

You leaned forward and grabbed the walkie from Bucky’s side, pressing the button. “Still here.”

Bucky glanced at you, eyebrows raised. It was the first thing you’d said since you got in the car, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You just stared at the walkie as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

A pause followed, then Steve’s voice came through, steady but cautious. “Alright. Listen, we can’t keep running aimlessly. We need somewhere to regroup and make a plan. Somewhere Hydra won’t track us.”

Silence fell on the line. Even though Steve had spoken the truth, no one seemed to have a solution. Finding a truly safe location, where Hydra wouldn’t sniff them out in hours, was nearly impossible. If anyone did have a safe house, Hydra had probably tracked it already, especially with the amount of data they’d managed to pull from Stark’s systems.

In the quiet, you bit your lip, hesitating. You had a place—somewhere buried so far in your past that even Hydra wouldn’t think to look for you there. But bringing everyone there… letting them see that part of you… it wasn’t something you’d planned on doing, maybe ever.

Still, this was life or death.

You took a deep breath, then pressed down on the walkie. “I know a place.”

Silence followed, and you could practically feel everyone on the other end of the line turning their heads in shock.

“You?” Clint’s voice came through, incredulous. “You have a safe house?”

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “It’s in Michigan. Middle of nowhere. It’s safe.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at you, his brow furrowing. “Michigan? You’re telling me we have to drive twelve hours to get there?”

The line crackled again as Tony’s voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, sure, let’s just take a twelve-hour road trip through the entire Northeast while Hydra’s out for blood. What could go wrong?”

You rolled your eyes, slumping back in your seat. “You have a better idea, Stark? Besides, we could stop along the way, grab something to eat, maybe even sleep. Or,” you added with a smirk, “we could all bond. Good ol’ Avengers bonding time.”

Bucky scoffed beside you, muttering under his breath. “Right. Bonding. That’s what we need.”

You couldn’t resist the urge to nudge him with your elbow, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Come on, Barnes. It’ll be fun. Think of all the memories we’ll make.”

Bucky just gave you a deadpan look. “Memories of you trying to get us killed, maybe.”

Tony’s voice cut back in, sounding exasperated but resigned. “Fine. Let’s head for Michigan. If this is our best shot, we’ll take it. Everyone, get some food, gas up, and keep a low profile. We’ll meet up as soon as we’re out of range.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice came through. “See you all there.”

With a final crackle, the walkie went silent. You tossed it back onto the dashboard and leaned back, watching the sun dip lower over the countryside. The nerves that had been coiled in your stomach began to settle as you mentally prepared yourself for where you were headed.

Bucky stayed quiet for a moment, clearly mulling over the unexpected revelation that you had a place to take everyone, a place you’d never mentioned.

“So,” he said finally, glancing at you, “what’s in Michigan?”

You just shrugged, not looking at him. “Old ties, I guess. Somewhere no one would think to look.”

Bucky studied your profile for a second, something unreadable in his expression, but he didn’t press you for details. He just turned his eyes back to the road, gripping the wheel as he accelerated. The car hummed along the empty highway, and for the first time, you felt a strange sense of calm creeping in, knowing you’d be heading somewhere familiar.

After a few hours of driving through nothing but countryside and dusty roads, Bucky finally pulled the Cadillac into a small gas station on the outskirts of a rundown town. The pump was ancient, the kind you almost expected to crank by hand, and the station itself looked like it hadn’t seen a remodel since the ‘80s. Perfect, really, for laying low.

As he put the car in park, you stretched, groaning, and finally stepped out of the car, feeling your stiff muscles relax. “Alright, I’ll get food. You do...whatever grumpy, ex-Winter Soldiers do while getting gas.”

He rolled his eyes “Just try not to buy out the entire snack aisle, alright?”

“Oh, you mean like you and your gas station jerky addiction?” You said with a grin.

Without waiting for his comeback, you headed inside the convenience store. It was small and smelled faintly of burnt coffee, but it was stocked with the essentials: stale pastries, greasy bags of chips, and suspiciously flavored sodas. You went straight for the snacks, grabbing a few bags of chips, a pack of donuts that looked questionably old, and—just because you could—a bright green bottle of soda.

When you returned to the car, Bucky was finishing up at the pump, giving the Cadillac a cautious once-over as if it might fall apart any second. He looked up when you handed him the bottle.

“Green Lightning Blast?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“Oh, please,” you said with a smirk. “This is quality gas station soda. You’re lucky I didn’t grab Mystery Melon instead.” You leaned into the trunk, arranging the bags of chips like they were valuable cargo.

Bucky uncapped the soda, sniffed it cautiously, then took a small sip before grimacing. “Tastes like nuclear waste.”

“Good for the soul,” you quipped, popping open a bag of chips and tossing one into your mouth as you hopped into the passenger seat.

Just as he was about to follow you, Bucky suddenly stopped and glanced across the street at a dingy hardware store, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Hold on,” he said, sounding half to himself.

You frowned, watching him as he headed across the street. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Hardware store,” he called back, not looking over his shoulder.

“Why?” you asked, hurrying to catch up, half-amused and half-irritated. “In case you forgot, I literally control shadows. I could just snap my fingers and—” You waved your hand theatrically in front of him, “boom. Done. Easy.”

“Yeah, well, in case you forgot,” Bucky replied, deadpan, “I don���t trust things I can’t see. And I’m sure as hell not trusting my life to some tricked-out parlor magic.”

You rolled your eyes, following him inside. “Wow, sounds like someone needs a lesson in appreciating useful skills.”

He ignored your comment, grabbing a basket and heading straight for the aisle with the camping and hunting gear. You watched as he loaded up on some surprisingly heavy-duty stuff—flashlights, a utility knife, zip ties, rope, even a small hatchet.

“Are we escaping Hydra or reenacting a camping trip from hell?” you asked, leaning over the basket to eye the growing pile. “Are you planning to hunt with that, or are you just compensating for something?”

Bucky shot you a glare. “You wanna keep it down? I’m making sure we have options.”

You held up a flashlight, wiggling it in his face. “Options? This is the kind of thing that screams, ‘I live alone in a cabin and only eat canned beans.’”

Bucky just plucked the flashlight out of your hands. “I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”

You scoffed, but couldn’t help the grin spreading on your face. “Sure, whatever you say, Boy Scout.”

With his basket full, Bucky finally headed toward the register, where a bored-looking cashier barely glanced up as he scanned the items. When the total came up, Bucky fished around in his pocket, mumbling something about how “Tony better reimburse us for all this.”

When you finally got back to the car, Bucky loaded up the trunk, placing his hardware store haul next to the snacks you’d bought, each bag and tool meticulously arranged.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, watching as he placed the hatchet at an angle—perfectly within reach if he ever needed to grab it. He caught your eye and raised an eyebrow as if daring you to comment.

“You know,” you said, smirking as he closed the trunk, “most people just carry a pocketknife. But hey, what do I know?”

Bucky shook his head, walking around to the driver’s side. “I’m just being prepared. You want to make fun of it, go ahead, but when this axe comes in handy, I’ll remember that.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said as he got in, buckling up. “If you pull out that hatchet mid-mission, I’ll take a front-row seat to watch the show.”

As Bucky started the car, you threw a couple of chips into your mouth and glanced over, eyes bright with mischief. “So, how does it feel, Barnes? Out here on a top-secret, off-the-grid, government fugitive road trip. Just you, me, and a trunk full of discount hardware.”

He shook his head, eyes focused on the road but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Feels like I’m babysitting an overconfident shadow with a snack addiction.”

You laughed, tossing another chip into your mouth. “Hey, you’re the one who insisted on the hatchet. I’m just here for the chips and the company.”

“Lucky me,” he muttered, accelerating as the gas station faded into the distance.

dividers by @dollywons

[erenasia]

Project G1 : Prologue, Reborn

This is an ongoing Series Overview: Set in the universe of Creepypasta, 'reborn' is the prologue to a multiple x Fr fic. With hints of sci-fi, I'm sure you'll enjoy it ⊹₊⟡⋆ Tw: Mentions of medical operations, toxic mentalities. Words: 767

A/N: I have a backlog of eight chapters, so make sure to stick around if you liked this <3

The rusted door to the old laboratory slammed open; a flurry of paperwork that previously littered the floor took to the air in response. Boots, mud stricken and wet, stomped their way inside before coming to an abrupt stop. Drenched from head to toe, the man pulled a deep breath from the air and willed himself to continue down the stairway before him. 

“Not long now, just a little further.” He labored. 

His muscles strained; they cried for the body cast haphazardly over his shoulder to be put down— but the scientist persisted.

The longer that girl remained in his arms, the less chance she had of living.

He shifted her weight; the body rolled further over his shoulder while a lifeless hand graced his back in a limp sway.

“You can do this, Christian. This is everything we worked for. This is your only chance,” he panted aloud.

The metal door clicked shut behind him.

The sound, like a starter gun, triggered a race against every instinct he had. 

He launched himself down the looming staircase.

Each step was as agonisingly painful as the last, a sharp grunt tearing from his throat with every movement. 

Seven dim lights blurred at the edges of his vision as he descended, his resolve forcing him onwards, his mind buzzing—thrumming— growing more feverish by the second. 

Soon enough the secondary door came into view. With a crash, it swung open wide to reveal the dingy laboratory Christian called home. 

He rushed inside, then grimaced at the sight— 

home was a mess.

Previous false promises of cleaning echoed in the scientist's mind as he laid the girl gently on an operating table, reaching to grab a nearby IV stand.

“This is no place for an operation. Why now? Why do you come to me at a time like this?” 

The man whispered to the girl, casting a glance to the cluttered table on his left.

A look of repulsion followed.

The ordering of instrument trays, pushed off as tomorrow’s task time and time again, left him with only one alternative: the desk. This realisation was met with a low grunt, and after reaching over the mess to grab a bag of sodium chloride from the shelf behind, he secured it to the stand. 

Christian paused, searched the girl for a vein, then secured an IV. Then with a staggered breath, he commenced the routine which he had practiced in preparation so many times before.

The man scurried about the lab and collected any vial, instrument and sterile material he could get his hands on— then set them under one arm, rushing towards the filing cabinet. With one quick tug, it flew open. Yet he didn’t need to sort through each file; the paper he needed rested haphazardly atop the rest from frequent— incessant— revisions. 

He grasped it in his shaky hands. 

With a dry swallow the man returned to the workbench, his eyes leering over the mess with a disgusted scowl. He then turned towards the girl, debating something for a moment, before placing the items shoved under each arm on the end of her operating table. Letting out a harsh grunt, he shuffled their placing, making sure to keep it far away from the red liquid pooling at the stump of her missing arm. It would be a compromise of sanitary regulations to rest them there, but It was better than the alternative; the revolting workspace in front of him. 

He needed to fix his desk quickly.

Turning back towards the bench, the sight before him made his skin crawl; dull eyes danced over each cigarette butt dropping cancerous ash, each coffee cup teeming with life, each rotting take-out box dissolving and crumpling into piles. He felt the disgust in himself rise, and in a mere moment each revolting object came crashing to the ground, sporadically scattered across the lab like a disgusting art piece. 

In their place lay a lone sanitary sheet and a promise to be better.

Ash crinkled and grated underneath the plastic as each instrument was then meticulously placed upon it. Meanwhile, the maddening static that had been simmering within his mind slowly began to settle.   

Christian shuddered.

This was the beginning. 

He turned to the girl, glancing over the papers laid on the operating table then reached out a hand, tentatively taking them in his grasp. 

He intended to begin, to make a start, beat this ever fading time limit.

But he couldn’t concentrate. Because moral quandaries begged at the verge of his psyche.

Christian looked over to the girl, her breathing growing shallower by the second.

“If I had not found you, you would be dead already.”

He muttered, extending a trembling finger to tuck (h/c) strands away from her eyes. His babblings continued relentlessly in an attempt to convince his inner self that what he was doing was ethical. 

That he wasn’t a monster.

“The medics wouldn’t have gotten to you in time.”

They may not have, but Christian never bothered to call. 

His voice hitched. His grip hardened. The static returned with a vengeance. 

“You have to understand, I tried, I tried to find another. I wanted consent. But it was met with disdain, inquiries. I was— I was on the verge of giving in.” 

He swallowed, before clearing his throat. 

“... until I found you, against that tree. You must be here for a reason. You’re saving me—no, you want to save me. From what? You’ll never know. But right now, I have to trust that you came here for something.” He stepped back and took a deep breath before posing a question.  

“Even if you did not, even if you were here by… coincidence. You know this is your only option, correct?”

It was almost as if he expected an answer in return. Yet the man was met with a dull silence— other than the shallow breathing of the girl laying still on the gurney.

Christian’s heart beat in his chest.

The white noise lessened once more, and he nodded his head softly as if responding to a hidden answer.

“Then it’s decided.”

Newly satisfied, the man glanced down at the research paper’s title.   

The title glared back, causing his heart to ricochet out of his chest in excitement. 

-Project: G1 

  Author, CW. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Link to chapter 1 !

Thanks for reading! <3 𓆏 Comments/reblogs appreciated! 𓆏

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 10: Aurora Borealis

They climb out the window to sit on the roof like teenagers, Scully in the vee of Mulder’s legs with his arms around her. She leans back against his chest. The actual young people are in the back pasture, having a bonfire. Mulder and Jack spent the afternoon watering a wide circle around the fire pit, just in case. Neither of them are under any illusions that the younguns will be on their best behavior. Jack’s a bit of a wild child, for starters, and he’s their child, so he’s too smart for his own good. But they’re both proud of how far he’s come.

Grace is with her Uncle Charlie and her cousins at Maggie’s house. It seemed like the best solution; Jack and his friends are rowdy, and Grace never goes to bed when her brother’s out of the house. She wants to be with him all the time. He tolerates it pretty well, but still, bonfire night isn’t for littles.

“Like old times,” Mulder says in her ear.

“Mm,” she says. “Playing hooky, just the two of us.”

“Better, though,” he says. “Look at what we get to come home to.”

She rubs her hand up and down his thigh. It’s still firm under his jeans. “Too happily ever after for you?”

“Au contraire, mama bear,” he growls softly. “It’s just right.”

She smiles to herself and lets her head loll on his shoulder.

“Do you think it’s going to happen?” he asks.

“If it doesn’t, it’s still nice up here.”

He kisses the side of her head. “It is.”

They sit and wait, watching the sky. It is like old times, in some ways. They used to stargaze like this. She remembers the dancing lights in Idaho. She still can’t explain them, although she has some hypotheses. She flinches sometimes if she sees a satellite—she’s seen Mulder do it too—but tonight she feels entirely safe and utterly content.

“Look.” His voice is hushed. “Oh, Scully, look.”

In the dark sky, a sudden sifting of color: red, purple, pink, green. Sheets of shimmering pigment ripple against the velvet backdrop of the night. It’s gorgeous. It’s unreal. Tears rise in her eyes. She can hear whooping from the back pasture as Jackson and his friends catch sight of the lights.

“I never imagined it would look like this,” Mulder says, awed.

“The radiation from the solar wind excites particles in the plasma of the magnetosphere,” she says. "Those particles precipitate into our atmosphere. Borealis pertains to the wind, but it's really more of a rain, in a way."

“It’s magic,” Mulder says.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” She cuddles against him. “When you think about it, the odds are astronomical, Mulder. Here we are, on the roof of our house, after decades of a life where that wasn't even a possibility, on a planet that’s just the right distance from the sun to enjoy the benefits of the radiation, and we evolved such that these lights, this phenomenon, occurs in the visible spectrum of wavelengths that our eyes can see. And we have specialized cells in our eyes that allow us to perceive these specific wavelengths as colors, and a brain that can fill in the shades between.” She tilted her face to kiss the broad sweep of his jaw. “I can call that magic, or even a miracle.”

“I think all of this is a miracle,” he murmurs, wrapping her up in his arms.

She’ll kiss him later, when the lights fade, the two of them mellow with the poignant contentment of middle-age. They’ve earned their peace. For now, they watch the aurora dance, and the stars hold no malice.

[kentocidal]

FILE NAME: BITCH IN HEAT.TXT

USERS FOUND: welt yang x bunny hybrid!fem!afab!reader

WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED! DO NOT OPEN! forced heat, drugging (f!receiving), bunny hybrid, heat cycle, age gap (implied), welt yang is a creep, use of “pet,” “bunny,” etc., ask to tag

NOTES ABOUT THE VIRUS: welt yang thought himself to be a reserved man. well, he had, at least, until you stepped onto the express with that quivering little puffball tail.

INTERNAL MESSAGE: i did it folks i survived kinktober. visit the masterlist here!

NEW NOTIFICATIONS! @kaedescara @yaekiss @pvbbyb0y @voidshoutsback @4izawas (want to be added? send me an ask off anon!)

tap. tap. tap. tap. tap.

his foot tapped anxiously on the floor of his room, elbows on his knees and fingers steepled under his nose. he was nervous, for the first time in a long time, watching the numbers on his clock flicker onto the next minute. 

welt yang was not a nervous man. he was a good man, a man who always chose the ethical option, a man who consistently tried to guide and protect the others on the express.

at least, he liked to think of himself in that way, before you joined the crew. you, who made his knees weak and his head swim with a lust he hadn’t felt in many long years.

it was all your fault. you were corrupting his mind with your pouty cheeks, your thick thighs that always rubbed together whenever he was in the same room as you, your sweet lop ears and your twitchy puffball tail. 

a hybrid, march had exclaimed when she introduced you to him on that first day, cool, right?! she’s so awesome! so cute too, right, mr. yang?

welt had swallowed the saliva that had pooled on his tongue before responding with a curt introduction, watching the way your nose seemed to scrunch and twitch with interest at him. 

he had felt the beginnings of your corruption from that first day.

he had seen from the get go how you followed him around as if he was everything. you, a young, pretty pet, wandering the express carts in shorts that allowed for your tail to wiggle freely, your sweet eyes trailing him wherever he went. he saw how you had to shift and adjust to be comfortable around him, as if you were playing a game with him, trying to get his attention and encourage him to approach.

you always smiled with those glossy lips whenever he spoke to you, or told you how to do something. you seemed to like to ask him arbitrary questions every single day, ears twitching against your shoulders where they draped as you listened with rapt attention to how his voice melted down your spine.

welt was a good man. he was just trying to help you, honest. he had caught you with medicine from another planet, something having to do with suppressing an urge you had, according to the files he had secretly borrowed from dan heng’s room. it was only right that you felt comfortable enough to go through the motions your people went through back home, right? those pills were probably bad for you anyways. 

it was only a matter of time. a carefully misplaced bottle of pills, followed by a carefully spiked bottle of your favorite soda. a perfect storm, a perfect conversation starter.

another minute passed, and he finally heard stirring from your room across the hall. thumping of feet on the floor, a distressed groan. the hair on the back of his neck stood as he sat up straight in his chair, grabbing a book off of his desk to try and feign ignorance to your situation.

your door slid open with a hiss, and two short steps was all it took for you to be in front of welt’s door. you knocked thrice in rapid succession, and then your saccharine voice floated through the heavy metal. “m-mr. yang? please open up, i don’t feel well, something’s wrong…”

“come in,” he called right back, eyes still trained on his book. he was a good man. he wouldn’t take advantage if you were scared.

the door slid open, and in you stepped. your hair was tousled, your clothing crumpled and messy. you were completely out of sorts, looking as though you were feverish and ill. welt put his book down, brows furrowing as you hurried to close the door and lock it behind yourself. your tail was rigid and twitching, flicking upwards, and as he caught a glimpse of your ass in your tiny shorts, he saw it.

a wet spot, nestled between your thighs. your sweet, supple thighs were glistening with a foreign substance that caught the light and made welt’s head spin.

you turned back to face him, and he easily put the mask of concern and worry. “what’s wrong? you look as though you’re running a fever.”

“mr. yang,” you breathed, your glossy bottom lip trembling before you caught it between your teeth as you walked up to him with quick strides. “i don’t feel well, something’s wrong with me, i couldn’t find my medicine, i- i’m… please…” you looked so desperate, so innocent, reaching for him in the way you always did, seeking his affection, always looking for a hug.

he allowed it, his hands brushing over your shoulders before wrapping around your middle as you practically fell into him. your skin was hot, almost burning to the touch, and you allowed yourself to crawl directly into his lap with a soft sniffle of discomfort. you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, legs straddling his waist, and hid your face in his neck. “help me, please, i’m- i think i- i need your help…”

“help with what? what’s the matter?” he pretended not to know, pretended not to feel the way your cunt throbbed as he spoke against the fur of your sensitive ear, pretended as if he wasn’t straining in his slacks.

he felt you take a deep, shuddering breath in against his neck, your nose sliding against the column of his throat as you rocked your hips with a sudden fervor. “mr. yang, please, i need you inside, i need you inside me, it’ll make it go away…”

your voice was dripping with need as welt slid his hands to your sides to push you from your embrace. he was holding back, he wanted you to want it truthfully. “what are you saying? i don’t understand.”

you whimpered as you were pushed away from him. your pupils were blown wide, the color of your scleras barely visible in the wide inky pools of lustful darkness that had overtaken you. you were sinking into him, into the heat you had never had before in your life. the sudden loss of suppressants made the symptoms grow tenfold.

you whined before grabbing one of welt’s wrists and pushing his hand under your waistband, making his fingers dance along your clit with a sudden moan dripping from your lips. “here, mr. yang, i need you here, i need you inside me. please, please, help me, fill me up, you’re the only one i want…”

your begging was making his head spin. finally, you were asking him to help you, to take care of you, to fuck you.

who was he to deny you of anything you asked? he never has, and he never will.

“oh, darling,” he murmured, making quick work of sliding two fingers into your slicked up cunt, the squelch from your juices making him grit his teeth to bite back a moan. he flexed and curled his middle two fingers inside your sloppy hole, making you cry out with oversensitive pleasure as all of your synapses fired at rapid speeds. your own fingers never felt this good, nothing had ever felt as good as welt’s fingers inside of you.

you started to practically ride his fingers, bouncing on his lap, your slick dripping into his hand and all over his lap. you whimpered and whined, your ears falling over your shoulders and draping behind your back as your eyes rolled into your skull. you already felt stupid just from his fingers. 

“is this better? is this helping you, bunny?” he hummed at you, at the way your tits bounced with your movements. his free hand shoved your shirt up towards your throat, and he groaned as your tits were freed from their confines for him. he was quick to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh and almost smiling from the way you practically screamed and shuddered.

your nails were sunk deep in welt’s shoulders as you rocked your hips into his hand, your head reeling as you were suddenly brought to your peak. you gushed into his hand and shook hard in his grip, his hand moving from your shirt to the small of your back to keep you steady in his lap. his fingers slowed in your hole but didn’t stop completely; your skin felt like you had been doused in cold water, but only for mere seconds before you started to feel that heat pool in your stomach again.

“no, i’m…” you whimpered, tears welling in your lashes, and welt lifted his mouth from your nipple to coo at you. 

“poor bunny, still need my help?”

“please, need more, need your cock…” your breath became shallow as you shoved at his wrist, forcing his fingers from your hole. you got onto shaky legs, and welt was the one to shift forward in his char to peel your soaked shorts down your legs. 

“what a pretty bunny. poor thing, have you ever been in heat before?”

“need your cock,” you responded, earning a chuckle from him as he stood. he loomed over you, smelling of smoke and dark liquor. you felt like you were going to lose your mind if he made you wait any longer, and he could read that on your face. he made quick work of his belt and his zipper before grabbing one of your wrists and pulling you to his bed on the other side of the room. 

he pushed you down, and you went without hesitation, feeling your tears start to spill from your lashes as you throbbed and started to produce more slick that gathered around your hole and dripped down your ass. 

welt stood at the edge of the bed, undressing quickly, his shirt first followed by his pants and boxers. his cock, drooly and red and heavy, caught your gaze immediately, and you whined and hooked your hands under your own knees to present your hole to him.

“please,” you whined loudly as he started to crawl over you, “put it in, put it in, put it in- oh-” 

your voice was like honey as you moaned, your back arching and legs resting on welt’s shoulders as he wasted no time in sinking the fat head of his cock past your tight rim. you were so wet, clamping down on his cock and opening up perfectly for him to slide deeper, deeper, deeper until he was fully inside your warmth.

a look of bliss washed over you as you finally were filled with cock, your internal desires being gifted to you by a strong, perfect man.

welt groaned as your walls fluttered around him. “good girl, good pet, what a good fuckin” girl. you want me to fuck you? yeah?” your whimpers and nods encouraged him, egged him on, allowed his nice facade to falter. “good, let me breed this fuckin’ pussy that you flaunt around here. let me help you.”

you cried out in the affirmative when he pulled his hips back to start fucking into you at a ruthless pace. his lips slammed into yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips, and you allowed him into your mouth, pliant and perfect, reduced to nothing but wet moans and cries of babbling nonsense that made welt feel insane.

he fucked you mercilessly, his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he kissed you harshly. your ears twitched against the bed, your tail flicking wildly against the sheets. your legs shook on his shoulders, and he felt as though he was the one on aphrodisiacs, not you.

you felt like you were floating, your body melting into the bed as you felt your high start to approach again. you babbled at him, but his tongue was in the way, but that didn’t stop you from trying. you felt pure euphoria under him. welt, the man who knew exactly how to work your body and make you feel so much better.

your high came crashing over you, washing over your body like a tidal wave as you squirted all over his pelvis, your eyes rolling back into your skull and your jaw dropping open into a silent scream that was preceded by cries of his name.

welt didn’t last much longer when he felt the way your walls were sucking him in, demanding his seed. he would never say no to you, to your body; he came with a low shout, his cock twitching in your gummy walls and filling you up with his cum.

you felt like you had just been dunked in cool water once again, relaxing and rolling your hips to meet welt’s shallow thrusts. you couldn’t catch your breath, your head still pounding with the feeling of adoration and need from him. 

welt was a good man. he thought himself to be a good man even as he pulled out and used his fingers to push his spend back into your hole. even as your eyes fluttered and you whimpered as the heat started to crawl back under your skin.

he would always help his pretty bunny. you just needed a little encouragement.

[subwaytostardew]

▽ Subway to Stardew - Adoptable Joltik ⚡️

This would play after Emmet's 8 heart event and getting Joltik up to 8 hearts as well.

I released a separate mod specifically for adopting Joltik, so you only need to get them up to 8 hearts to adopt them! You can do it right now!

Adoptable Joltik Mod Link: https://www.nexusmods.com/stardewvalley/mods/21002

And of course... Commentary under the read-more.

Joltik's adoption event sat in the drafts for quite a while. It took me whole a day to implement and I didn't let myself sleep until I finished everything. (It's 1 PM now...)

The event ended up wildly different because of how extra custom pets are implemented. You would think that they would be added in the same way as you get your cat/dog that you select during character creation. No. You have to buy a license. Only Marnie is authorized to sell them.

Here's the original script for Joltik's adoption event:

[Joltik Adoption Event]

Emmet: @! Joltik likes you verrrrry much. They want to stay with you. I'm letting you adopt them. Yup. I filled out all the paperwork. The Joltiks are legally documented now. 

I never gave ours a name... Galvantula wouldn't let me. She is verrrry picky about it. But that's okay. Joltik is yours. You should name them. She came along for approval. So. What name should I put on the adoption form?

[Name input box like Marnie's adoption thing...]

[Galvantula pauses for a moment to think and then offhandedly agrees.]

Emmet: Galvantula didn't shock me for that. That name is okay. Yup. I will file that with the Ferngill Republic. Don't worry about it. Make sure you take verrrry good care of our little Joltik!

[Joltik jumps and heart emotes]

◇──◆──◇──◆

The whole naming portion was a source of much more frustration than it should have been. In events, the name input box is brought up by the "catQuestion" command (which applies to dogs chosen at the start, too...

If you refuse, then Marnie also shows up no matter what you do. Farmhouse positions are also tricky and made even harder to find reference for after 1.6 added the farmhouse being moveable. Joltik kept spawning where Emmet was supposed to be so I had to use a move command just to get them to spawn one tile to the side. Galvantula was fine. I didn't get to updating her vanilla portraits yet so she's staying quiet.

The catQuestion command also only adds the pet you pick during character creation. There's no fields to target the usage. You have to buy a license. It's the only way to get another pet. I didn't want Joltik to replace a cat either since in-story you would have to earn the trust of both Emmet and Galvantula... There's no way you can do that by the first 25 days of spring. It's immersion breaking and you lose a cat.

I did find the license aspect funny though. It was oddly fitting for the mod's lore of Pokemon being pretty much banned from the region. Emmet is a threat to Stardew Valley's ecosystem. Not the best guy for the task of combating anti-Pokemon xenophobia.

Pet sizes are apparently hardcoded so I had to make a new spritesheet for Joltik as if they even need a 32 x 32 pixel area per frame. I did end up making new sprites for them while I was at it. I tried to base it off of the cat's behaviors so I have less animation fields to edit (I was tired). The cat loafs a lot. Trying to convey that in a tiny spider posed quite the challenge.

After everything was done, I figured that the whole adoption portion of the mod could easilly be taken apart to be its own mod as a demo of sorts for the expansion. So I went and made a content pack to post.

Bringing up your starter pet's friendship level takes quite some time, so it would be awkward if I let the event play with no preconditions. Because of that, I ended up including Joltik as an NPC and locking their adoption behind their heart level.

We actually only had two lines per day of the week (not including season) for daily dialogue. That shot up to six lines per day of the week for a full 0-2-4-6-8-10 in spring because I was determined to publish a mod. (I've been modding for nearly a year nonstop and I don't have anything playable... humiliating...)

Anyways! I hope you're all having fun with 1.6! It certainly brought new challenges and opportunities to the modding scene!

▷ Station Steward Thylak

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. pining. angst. language. jealous!ofc. virgin!ofc. asshole!dean. just a little, much needed, assult. slut shaming.

A/N : lemme know what y'all think of this one 😄 ps all typos are mine, for some reason my last file got goofed up and i tried sifting through all of it, so sorry if i missed any.

Maricela’s POV

The ride back to MacCarthy’s Scottish Motel was silent and I couldn’t have been more grateful. The last thing I wanted was to talk about my stupid feelings for his stupid brother. No, instead, he kept quiet, allowing me to wallow in envy. He parks Baby beside Jody’s pickup before pulling the keys from the ignition. My hand reaches for the door handle but his gruff voice stops me.

“Look, I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better—”

“Then don’t,” He chuckles, and my eyebrows draw. I glance at the smirked Winchester with curiosity, “What?”

“You're just like him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well for starters you’re both stubborn as hell. You hate talking about your feelings but will wallow in your own self-pity.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. You’re just a lot more alike than you think, that’s all.”

“Can we just solve this case and get out of here? ‘Kinda used to us doing all the heavy lifting anyway.” Without waiting for his response, I push the door open and walk toward the motel.

Sam follows behind and uses the key to unlock the door, greeting Jody as it opens, “Hey.”

“How was church?” She finishes typing her last thought on her laptop before turning and giving her undivided attention.

The question earns a laugh from the man as we shed our jackets and walk toward the Sheriff. “Well, it turned into confessional. Apparently, two of our vics, Honor and Pastor Fred, did the dirty.”

So disgusting. He’s not even cute, I think to myself.

Jody’s eyes widen, shocked by the news, too. “Oh, well. They're not the only ones. Barb Blanton, our missing bride-to-be—”

“Yeah?”

She picks up the file and reads, “Her mom said she heard Barb and her fiancé in Barb's bedroom.”

“Going at it?” Sam asks with amusement.

“Well, she said she heard sex noises, then Barb crying, then Neil telling Barb it didn't count because it was under 30 seconds.”

“Tragic,” I comment.

We chuckle before the hunter/sheriff continues. “And then, two hours later, she heard a smash and saw a flash of light under the door.”

“Blue light?” asks Sam.

Jody nods. “You know, I’m thinking whatever this thing is, it’s not going after virgins, even born-again virgins.”

“It’s taking virgins who break their chastity vow,” I conclude.

“So dragons are off the list.” The Winchester utters.

“I’m sor—Dragons? Those are a thing?” She asks with skepticism.

“Yeah. Too many things are things.” Sam walks away, leaving Jody to her thoughts.

The hunters migrate to the table beside the window to continue researching on their laptops, while I continue on the bed nearby. Sam calls Dean to update him on what we know, and unsurprisingly, his brother doesn’t answer. I try not to dwell on what might be keeping him from picking up Sammy's calls, but I can’t help myself. My thoughts keep drifting to what he might be doing but deep down, I already know: Her. If she’s a sane, straight woman, there’s no way she can resist his charm.

“Dean. Come on, call me.” The Winchester ends the voicemail in defeat.

“You know, for being born again today, you sure look like crap,” Jody observes.

“Wait a second. Did you...get—?”

The Sheriff’s eyes widen, her body language just as surprised. “Born again?” He confirms and it draws a small chuckle. “Oh, Sam. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“Preach, sister,” I mutter, eyes glued to my laptop.

“It’s just...I enjoy church. I mean, after...after Bobby, Crowley...I needed something that made sense to me—you know, comfort, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re all looking for that.” He agrees.

“Except those that got it,” Sam and I look at Jody in wonderment. “Come on. You and Dean? That’s something special, don’t you think?”

It certainly was special. He’s quiet, digesting her words. The hunter sighs and scratches his stubble but doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans over the table, eyes flickering between his computer and Jody, before focusing on his research.

When silence falls over us, I go back to my wretched thoughts. Vivid visions flicker across my eyes of his hands on her. The way they wrap around her waist before moving down, telling her to jump without having to use words. And she does. She straddles his waist and runs her fingers through his short hair. Their lips move in sync, each kiss getting needier than the last. My blood begins to boil as time passes.

Sam rips me from my thoughts when Dean finally picks up. “Hey. Dean? Dean. Hey, you there? Hello? Dean? Dean!”

I sit on the edge of the mattress, my attention unwavering. “What's going on?”

The Winchester repeats his question then after Dean’s response, Sam replies, “Yeah. So did we. So, get this—it’s not a dragon...Dean.”

Sighing, he pulls the phone away from his ear. “What’d he say?”

“Not much. Just that he found something big. He seemed distracted, in a rush.”

If he found something, he couldn’t be doing what I feared, right? I thought. My paranoia gets the best of me, refusing my mind any peace. While they return to work, I pretend to help as my jealousy engulfs me, and for the next hour, my thoughts run wild. He alone with her...for so long...doing God knows what. But that was the problem. It wasn’t just God who knew. Sam gets up from the table and grabs his jacket, walking toward Jody as he pulls it on. Without question, I close my laptop and push it to the side before grabbing my own.

The Sheriff glances toward us, eyes darting back and forth. “What’s up?”

“This thing is taking people that break their vows, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Dean and Suzy—” He holds up his phone, “Been over an hour.”

“Right.” She pushes herself off the table, hurrying to grab her jacket.

Sam, Jody, and I race to the counselor’s apartment. When we arrive, the door to ‘23’ is wide open. There's a huge mess of glass plates, wood, and their remnants left on the dark floor. Sam and I enter as Jody leaves to talk to the neighbors. We search the apartment, looking for clues to determine if the missing hunter made it inside. Eventually, Jody returns.

“Neighbors see anything?” I ask.

“Flash of blue,” We meet in the middle, and Sam huffs, staring at a DVD cover. “You sure Dean was here?”

“Oh, yeah. And I think he crossed someone off his bucket list.” He holds up the case insinuating to whom. And lo and behold, it was none other than the naked she-slut herself: Suzy.

My stomach drops when I hear the words come from his mouth but the cover of the pornstar hurts more. The sharp pain of envy and betrayal swiftly turns to rage. I feel my body go hot and I'm ready to make the apartment messier. The longer I stand here the feeling of utter disgust grows. Sam and Jody observe me closely, waiting for me to say or do something. Instead, I walk out without another word.

Back in the motel they were eerily quiet around me and didn’t dare say anything as I paced the room. I tried helping but my anger clouded my vision and if I continued to deal with the slow-ass WiFi, I would’ve needed a new laptop after having hurled my current one. It was no secret how I felt about the situation and it wasn’t because he was missing. That he deserves. Hell, I want to find him just to tear him in two. My wrath prevented me from worrying, especially since I knew he could handle himself.

Jody didn’t bother asking why I felt so strongly about this. I wouldn’t be surprised if she figured it out herself or if Sam told her about my feelings for his older brother. Why couldn’t I have fallen for someone else? Why’d I have to fall in the first place? And so damn hard? The thoughts nearly bring me to tears as I desperately ponder how I could let a boy control my emotions this much.

“Hey,” She says, halting my step. “Virgins, fire—sound familiar?”

Sam and I look over her shoulder and he reads, “Vesta, Roman Goddess of the Hearth.”

“In Ancient Rome, six virgins were dedicated to this chick every year. Their main duty was to tend Vesta’s hearth.”

“Wait, so fire is connected to virginity?”

“Yeah, the girls had to be pure because fire is the symbol of purity,” I answer.

“Huh. Okay, as long as Vesta’s fire was kept lit, Rome received a good harvest.”

“The virgins had to stay celibate for 30 years. If they broke their vows, they were buried alive. Vesta was often enveloped in a blue halo of light, which she could control at will to disorient, to maim—ohh—or to kill.”

Sam sits back down before I ask, “Okay, what about some way to kill her? A-a weapon or—or something.”

His phone rings, capturing our attention. He briefly glances at the Caller ID before answering. “Dean? Dean.” He plugs his ear, trying his hardest to interpret the call. “Dean, wh—Say it again. I can't hear you...Dean!”

Sam pulls the phone away, admitting he lost his brother. “What?” Jody and I inquire in unison.

“Listen, is there some kind of train station around here or something? I-I could have sworn I heard a whistle.”

The Sheriff types away and I whip out my phone. My thumbs move quickly, searching for trains nearby. I scroll until I find what I’m looking for. “Here we go. 8 p.m. train out of Sioux Falls. 79 miles an hour. What’s five miles east of Hartford—anything?”

“Uh...” Her fingers click the keys with haste. “Pasture mostly. No—The old Wimmer Fam.”

We scramble to put on jackets, once again, when Sam remembers, “Wait, anything on a weapon?”

With a few taps, she replies, “Oak stained in virgin blood. Where are we gonna get a virgin?”

“I'm a virgin!” He replies with his arms stretched wide.

“I think we need the real McCoy here, Sam.”

“Fuck,” I blurt. Their gazes snap toward me, changing from uncertainty to clarity.

“Mari...you’re not serious...are you?” Jody hesitates.

Sam appears just as shocked but remains silent.

“I swear to God, if either of you ever tell Dean about this, it’ll be the last thing you do.” I threaten.

“Honey, if I were your age and had your looks, I’d be—”

“Okay, can we not? Let’s go save these impatient sex fiends.” I walk past them, refusing to look them in the eye.

Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse...

We pull up to the abandoned farm and quietly enter the barn. Sam gestures for us to split off and cover more ground. I wave my flashlight, illuminating the dark space, trying to find any indication of where the “victims” were being kept. The silence ends when Sam calls for us girls. I turn and follow in the direction of his voice.

Suddenly, a large crash echoes within the old barn. I sprint towards the noise only to see Sam knocked through a wooden fence and Jody lifted and pinned against a pillar. Vesta holds the sheriff captive, her left pointer finger raised with a blue light radiating from its tip. Jody sees me and distracts the monster.

“Really? This is how a goddess acts?”

“What?” Vesta puts her finger away, shocked by the hunter’s question.

“I’m sort of new to this, but, you know, a Roman deity burying people alive in a barn? Sort of pathetic, don't you think?”

She strikes Jody across the face. “It only got pathetic when I started having to do it myself.” She does it again but to the opposite side, making her nose bleed.

Vesta lets go of her and she falls to the ground. I raise my blood-soaked stake over my head and just as I swing it toward the goddess, she steps to the side, clutches my coat, and tosses me away. The weapon flies out of my hand before I crash on the hard, hay-covered ground. I nearly black out but Jody’s calls keep me conscious. Struggling to get up, Vesta, or rather Bonnie, kneels in front of me.

“Well, if it isn’t the virgin herself.”

With heavy pants, I remark, “In the flesh.”

“I was going to go after you next. How lucky am I that you served yourself on a silver platter?”

“Leave her alone!” shouts the sheriff.

Vesta walks over and punches her once again, this time putting her to sleep. She turns on her heel and stalks toward me. “My, my, aren’t you hard to come by these days.” Her hands curl around my collar and pull me off the ground. “It’s been so long since I’ve eaten a virgin. And I’m going to savor every second.”

I thrash in her grasp, desperately trying to break free. She delivers a headbutt to my face, sending my head spinning in a painful whirl. Her strength allows her to bring me to a table and with one hand, she yanks off the sheet, exposing the blood-stained surface. And with ease, she lifts me onto the torture table. I fight with all I have but with one little zap, I’m weak again. My body’s useless as I try and fail to move a muscle.

She straps my head down then follows with my right limbs. With little strength, I muster, “You're going to die.”

The goddess’s laugh rings throughout the barn. “Sweetheart, you should really worry about yourself. After all, you’re the one who's going to be supper.”

“My friends...they’re going to kill you.”

“Well, if I’m going then I’m taking you with me.”

“I don’t think so!” Jody exclaims behind her.

She charges the stake at her but Vesta’s too fast. The goddess grabs her arm, bending it, and with force, impales the oak into her shoulder. She bellows in pain and the evil being pushes her down. Sam joins and swings at Vesta but she shoves him backward. He stumbles and she grasps his shirt, lifting him in the air before body slamming him into the hard ground. I try as quickly as possible to undo my restraints but it isn’t fast enough. Vesta presses her glowing finger to his abdomen before revealing what Dean and I have tried to keep hidden.

Sam grunts in pain, and then she stops her torture to ask, “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” He asks in confusion.

“Your liver. It’s—it’s no good. Dear boy, you’re all duct tape and safety pins inside.” No. No, no, no, no. No! “How are you alive?”

Just as I finish the last strap, Jody jams the weapon into Vesta’s back. A bright, blue light emanates from the goddess’s face before she slumps to the floor. Jody tosses the stake and it clatters next to her. I hop down and on shaky legs and I move toward Sam. Seeing my disoriented state, he wraps his arm around my torso, pulling me into his body. I lean against him as we hear the banging from the underside of the bunker door. We saunter to the old steel hatch and after the third attempt, Dean pushes it open.

He looks up, seemingly out of breath as he asks, “What did I miss?”

We don’t answer his question, right away at least. Dean climbs out first then helps the others. I regain my strength and quickly shed my jacket to access my overshirt. I apply pressure to Jody’s wound and she hisses in pain. After my apology, I suggest we take her to the nearest hospital. The Sheriff calls for backup as Dean gives the captives ‘the talk,’ making sure they say Bonnie was the one who kidnapped and killed them, leaving us out of it. Jody insists she stays behind and though I hesitate to leave her alone, we agree to meet her at the local emergency department.

Once we knew Jody had been admitted, we rushed to the hospital. I wait outside Jody’s room, giving the doctor space and her some privacy. Sam and Dean left to grab some coffee and I sit here, alone with my thoughts. A migraine set in and I close my eyes, rubbing small circles on my temple.

“Are you okay?” I lift my head to his husky voice.

The eldest Winchester stands before me, concern written across his face. My eyes scan the area but I don’t see Sam. “I'm fine.”

“What happened to your arm?”

My brows scrunch at the random question. “What?”

“Back at the barn, I saw the gauze. What happened?”

“Nothing,” I curse to myself, hoping he didn’t piece the puzzle together, that the weapon required virgin blood: My blood. “Just cut myself, no big deal.”

“Sammy told me Vesta almost made you her dinner,” That better be all he said. He chuckles and shakes his head. “You would’ve been one helluva meal.”

“‘The hell's that supposed to mean?” I cross my arms.

He sees my vexation and his eyes widen. “Nothing, it was just a joke.”

I rise to my feet while uncrossing my limbs, and despite the noticeable height difference between us, I don’t let it intimidate me. “You think this is funny?”

“What? No, I—”

“Jody has a damn hole in her shoulder. I almost got eaten by a fucking virgin freak and Sammy,” I bite my tongue, holding in the anger that encouraged me to shout in the nearly empty ho. barn. “Vesta told him about his internal injuries. You should’ve seen his face. It’s only a matter of time before he starts asking questions again. And all because no one can keep it in their fucking pants!”

“Hey, I’m sorry that all of that happened. I’ll deal with Sam later, but I’m not going to apologize for my actions. If I hadn’t—”

“What? Gotten your dick wet?”

“That’s—If I hadn’t broken my vow, we’d still be looking for them and more people would’ve been dead.”

“Do you actually think you saved them? That you took one for the team by screwing that slut?”

“Hey! Watch it.” He gets closer, rage flashing across his countenance.

“Or what? What’re you gonna do?” I laugh bitterly but my eyes darken. “Did I miss something while you skipped out on us to study her used body? As if you didn’t already know it like the back of your hand from watching her disgraceful movies. You’re both disgusting. And there’s nothing you can say that’ll convince me you helped. All of this is on you.”

My heart pounds against my ribcage. His jaw flexes as we stare each other down. Our noses practically touch as our chests brush against each other. My body was hot and I knew my tan complexion was bright red with anger, something I could never hide when I got this mad. I wanted to slap him, punch him, even kick him—give him what he deserves. It wasn’t just the events from today but the hurt I felt, knowing he could jump into bed with a complete stranger when there was someone who loved him right before his very eyes, knowing he couldn’t see me as anything more than an estranged sister was too hard to bear. It stung every day but on days like these, when he’d ditch Sam and me for his next temporary fix...it was a different kind of torture, one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam rushes over and pushes us apart. He stands in the middle, concern etched on his tired face. “What's going on.”

I utter a quick ‘nothing’ yet he answers, “She’s just jealous she couldn’t find anyone to break her vow with.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart. With a smart mouth like that, you’ll never get a guy to touch you. It’s a shame too ‘cause as far as I can tell, the only way to get rid of that attitude is if it’s screwed out of you.”

“That’s it!” My body lunges at Dean but Sam catches me before I can touch his brother. Seeing red, my hand snatches Sam’s coffee and without thinking twice, I chuck it at the discourteous Winchester. The hot beverage stains the front of his clothes and he yelps from the burns. “Fuck you!”

Sam shouts my name, trying to get my attention but my wrath drowns him out. A few security officers rush over, saying things I can’t bother to hear. My breathing was uneven as I stared at Dean with a look that could kill. I don’t blink or take my eyes off of the soaked hunter, not until he’s out of sight as Sam carries me outside. As soon as he puts me down, I walk away.

“Fuck!” I scream in frustration and the anger I kept bottled up.

“What the hell was that?!”

I slowly turn around feeling horrible that I put Sam in the middle. My eyes fill with tears and my breathing becomes shallow as I fight a sob. His face quickly softens and instead of scolding, he steps forward and pulls me into his arms. My emotions get the best of me and the dam comes crashing down. Every feeling I’ve been holding in flows out of me and onto Sam’s shirt. My body shakes as I let everything out, and I’m grateful when he holds me closer.

“Shh, shh.” His hand reaches up and brushes my bangs away from my drenched face. He kisses the top of my head as he pets my hair. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He holds me until my tears fade and my breathing evens from soft hiccups. “I'm sorry, Sam. You must think I’m pathetic.”

“Hey,” He lifts my chin with his finger, staring into my glossy eyes. “I would never think that and you better not think it about yourself. You hear me?”

I nod, feeling somewhat relieved. When he’s convinced, he lets me go. We step back, and I groan, looking at the mess I made on his shirt. The area where I poured my tears was visible and embarrassing. I begin to apologize profusely, but he dismisses it.

“It's fine, I promise. Besides, I’d rather have your tears on my shirt than hot coffee.” He jokes.

His infectious smirk brings one of my own. However, it doesn’t last long as Dean replies from behind us. “That makes two of us.”

Sam turns around and grimaces. “Yeah, well, I can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

“In what way did I deserve getting searing hot coffee thrown on me?”

“If you can’t figure it out for yourself, there’s nothing more I can say.”

“You should’ve heard how she was talking to me before you showed up!” Dean defends.

“I didn’t have to hear what she said. You shouldn’t have talked to her like that. I don’t want to hear it again. You got it?” Dean gives me a dirty look and then walks away. I sigh, not expecting but quite relieved that Sam had my back. “Don’t worry about him. Everything will blow over. Just try not to hold too much of a grudge.”

“Fine, but only because I love you.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too. Remind me not to get on your bad side, alright?”

It was the morning after and none of us had gotten much sleep. Dean and I hardly exchanged any words which was fine ‘cause the hurt still lingered. Luckily Sam and Jody were our buffers. We were changed and ready to hit the road. Jody grabs her briefcase and pulls it over her non-slinged shoulder.

“Heading out?” Sam inquires.

“Yeah,” She answers. “I’d tell you kids to stay out of trouble, but what’s the point?”

He pulls her into a hug, and she expresses her pain in one word: Ow.

“Thanks for bailing me out," Dean mentions before pulling her into his embrace.

“Oh, what can I say? I’m getting the hang of this.”

I pull the beloved hunter in for a hug. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Drive safe,” says Sam.

I grab the weekend bag from him as she thanks him. We walk outside, leaving the men alone. I open the truck door for her before walking around and setting the luggage in the passenger seat chair. She hops in the driver’s seat and I close the door after her. We exchange smiles, glad to have crossed paths again.

“Listen, I know it isn’t my place but if he can’t see how special you are then it’s his loss.” As much as I want to, I don’t bother pretending not to know what she’s talking about. “I love the man but he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Thank God he’s hot, though. Am I right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, but his face makes it harder to hate him.”

“‘Can’t argue that,” She gives me a soft smile, before giving another piece of advice. “Don’t let him control your feelings. You’re so much more than just a girl with a crush. You’re a damn hero. Remember that.”

“Thanks, Jods. Get home safe.”

“You too. And try not to kill each other!”

“No promises.”

I step away and watch her leave the parking lot. Sam exits the motel room, upset. I frown, knowing something has gone on. Dean comes out with our luggage. Without a word, he hands me mine before returning the keys to the main office. I glance at Sam and give him a small smile, silently asking if he’s okay. And to my surprise, he returns it. Everything’s going to be okay...

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[dukeofash]

You have any tutorials you'd recommend for block bench?

Sure! I originally learned blockbench for making Minecraft stuff so a lot of it was self-learned BUT:

If you're going for the low poly look, blockbench itself has a tutorial (x) + this person has a few videos of creating characters while walking through each step (x) note: the low poly models won't work in minecraft itself

If you're aiming for making things in/for minecraft, I'd say that this is probably a good starter tutorial series to look at (x)

A lot of blockbench is very user friendly in comparison to other 3d modeling software, but if you ever run into any bugs/questions, there's also the official discord thats linked in the program (although I don't recommend casually chatting in it because its swarming with kids and has iffy moderation) Good luck with your modeling journey you got this!

Some useful plugins I'd recommend (that you can find under file>plugins) are CEM Template Loader for minecraft and MTools for low poly

[p484]

Ramshackle Dorm for the Sims 4!

I got bored and made the Ramshackle Dorm from Twisted Wonderland in the sims 4.

Pics from the wiki Pics from sims 4

Bonus: "The starter Guestroom"(obviously you can change it however you'd like)

This is as close as I could get to the Ramshackle Dorm from Disney's Twisted Wonderland. (If you own a pack that has better fitting furniture/wallpaper/etc. for this build, feel free to change/swap/add anything you want after you upload it to your world.)

Name of Build: Twst Ramshackle Dorm

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

Packs Used:

Island living

Get Famous

Seasons

City Living

Holiday Celebration

(And Base Game)

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

Value of the lot: $102,795.00

File size: 279KB

Lot size: 40 x 30

Bedrooms: 2

Bathrooms: 2

Type: Residential

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

Other info:

(It will be under the username ivyarosd48 the classic random letters and numbers lol)

The build might be updated and changed in the future, so just hang in there!

Have fun!

wow you read this far? Cool! If you want me to make something else, tell me! BTW, there is the secret storage room that supposedly holds the ghost camera!

[lol-jackles]

Real question that I’d love your expert answer on.

The Winchesters was terribly marketed and from my understanding, that is the role of the producers/showrunner to create the elevator speech and marketing materials for the series, correct?

The way TW was sold to the audience seemed unexciting, unclear and didn’t match up with how the show ended. It’s like they weren’t really sure who the audience was supposed to be so the messages were so general that I don’t think it targeted or resonated with anyone. (My marketing prof always said when you try to target everyone, you appeal to no one.).

Just like the majority of the fandom, the concept was poorly conceived and even more poorly executed.

Regardless—- Now that we know how the prequel turned sequel played out, (1) who would you have targeted the message to, and (2) how would you have described the series to make it make sense to that audience.

I’d love to hear how you would have sold it to get people watch it.

While you are correct that producers/showrunner create elevator pitches, the marketing materials are created by an agency outside the studio. The agency hires Promotion Producers to develop campaign strategies and create promotional materials such as trailers and commercials according to set of specifications. Where those specifications come from can be good questions. Ideally, they are from showrunners, but often are from Senior Producer or from the studios' own marketing team.

So in The Winchesters, the Promotion Producers are given scenes from the show's producers with ideas of the show's message. But the Promotion Producers have to work closely with the studios marketing team and often campaign ideas don't sync up. Think back to Supernatural trailers, half the time they are completely misdirects on the instructions by studio's marketing team because they believe it's more interesting that way.

Promotion Producers know there are 4 major demographics called "the quadrant" and realistically they can only target one, maybe two if they're lucky.

Since Supernatural has "males over 25", WB may have been trying to get the "females under 25" with The Winchesters by going the Buffy-lite vibe while also trying to attract "females over 25" with Jensen Ackles's Dean-the-narrator.

"I’d love to hear how you would have sold it to get people watch it."

Well, for starters, even though it's a John and Mary Winchester story don't call it a John and Mary Winchester story because SPN fans already knows that story. Instead do what they did 18 years ago when they promoted Supernatural as X-Files meet Hardy boys. Focus on the spooky atmosphere and the characters searching for monsters in the sewer. This gets audiences asking why these young people are hunting for things that go bump in the night because why would anybody in their right mind do that? That is the hook. Have John mention that hunting monsters and demons is dangerous and ask why would Mary do it. Hint at her motives. Is it for revenge? Does she belong to a secret society? When she mentioned her father in passing, is she from a line of hunters? Show action shots of the 4 young people fighting monsters and make it look like they're losing. Then have an ending shot of one of them looking bloody, triumphant, and mad.

And don't call it a romance story, Supernatural was never about romance. X Files was never about romance either and fans went nuts over the chemistry between Scully and Mulder. If young John and Mary have chemistry, great, let the fans ship them first and then go for the romance.

[lacerta123]

When I first started playing Pokémon, the first games I actually owned were Soul Silver, followed by Platinum. Before I actually owned either of those games, though, an older neighbor kid would come over and let me play on her DS, and her Soul Silver game was the very first Pokémon game I ever touched. I think she had to coach me on how to walk, and how to battle, and probably on more things. I couldn’t save because the main save file wasn’t deleted. But every time she’d come over I booted up a new save file, and re-chose Cyndaquil, and tried to get as far as possible. When I owned my own games, I didn’t know how to read the move descriptions. I remember being excited to try them out and see what they did. I remember being amused by Metronome for hours. I came to the conclusion that only attacking moves were good to keep, because the others didn’t do any damage. I learned the type chart by seeing what worked and what didn’t. I beat Lance, then moved on to Platinum, and had the time of my life playing with my friends in the Underground. I remember playing on my ds under the covers late at night. And putting a blanket over my head on long car rides so I was shielded from the glare of the sun. I had to figure out the distortion world with some clues from the internet. When I caught Giratina, it gave me chills. And Cynthia felt like the ultimate challenge, her battle theme still causes my heart to race. I beat her after two tries. Later I played Pokémon Black, and ran out of her room when I found her in Undella town. I played Black 2 and saw the conclusion to N’s story. I played Pokémon X at the same time as Pokémon’s 20th anniversary, and I remember cutting out a little Pikachu logo with a two and a zero on its cheeks, and taping it to the back of my ds. I wasn’t going to miss a single event distribution. I remember begging my mom to take me to GameStop to get the event codes. I remember trading with my friends for starter eggs and version exclusives. When ORAS came out, I remember the mirage islands letting me catch the last of the legendaries I needed. I traded them to my Pokémon X and finally completed the Pokédex. The last Pokémon DS game I played was Pokémon moon, with a distinct feeling of annoyance that I no longer owned them all anymore. I could never justify getting a switch, but my love for Pokémon never died. Now I’m playing fan games, Reborn is my current vice.

A lot of things have changed since the DS era ended. But these games are the ones that gave me my love for Pokémon. I can’t quite ever bring myself to play Pokémon in full screen, because it just feels wrong, too far from that little window to another world on my DS. I miss it, but I won’t knock the new games for being different either. The DS is old now, and kids these days will catch their first Pokémon in the overworld. Their first champion might be Leon, or Gita. They may be enchanted by finding area zero, by catching a paradox beast. They might take everything for granted, that this is how it’s always been. And that’s ok. I just hope they’re falling in love with it like I did.