#2. rip duck butt!!!!!

[dailysasukes]

Pleaasseeee draw sasuke with a mullet

sasuke day 151

[hemmingshouse]

the two of us pt. 2 / colby brock

part one: (x)

summary: after keeping his feelings on the low because he didn’t wanted to lose you, colby finally gets his way with you and makes sure you know you’re his and his only.

pairing: colby x female!reader

warnings: SMUT +18 (minors dni), kissing, choking, sexual intercourse, male x female receiving, praising, dominant!colby, sarcastic!colby and everything else nasty. :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

his nose lightly nudged your cheek as a trembling sigh fell from his mouth, hand squeezing your thigh as he impatiently tried to keep himself together for the last few minutes of the cab ride to his house. it made you chuckle slightly, the way he was trying so hard not to rip your clothes off and have you begging for him on the leather backseat of the cab.

“what are you laughing at?” he mumbled as his fingers crumpled up the silky hem of your short dress, trying to keep himself distracted from the fact that the cab driver could see everything in his rear view mirror. although he wouldn’t mind to fuck the absolute shit out of you in this vehicle, he’d rather have you to himself this time.

you licked your lips quickly, adjusting yourself to sit up straighter in your seat. this caused colby’s hand to ‘accidentally’ brush against your core for a quick second. his breath hitched in his throat, a soft grunt and rolling eyes followed quickly afterwards. “babe..” he warned you sternly, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck.

“just a few more minutes, colbs,” you mentioned with a grin dancing in your lips, taking his hand into yours to tangle your fingers together with his. “you have always been impatient, hm?”

colby’s lips left soft kisses on your neck, behind your ear and as he was traveling upwards he met a spot that caused you to let out a whimper. his lips curled up into the biggest smirk and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was very pleased to hear the pretty little sounds you made just for him.

“have you seen yourself?” he asked you, nose brushing your jaw before he rested his fingers underneath your chin, turning your face to meet your eyes. “you think i haven’t thought of fucking you before? shit, babe,” he sighed softly once again, “now that i waited long enough to have you, i will make sure neither of us is impatient ever again.”

you wanted to speak up as the heat creeped upon your neck and cheeks, but when the cab driver told you you had reached your destination and were in fact in front of colby’s house you found yourself becoming slightly nervous.

reaching for your purse to pay the driver, colby swatted your hand away quickly as he fished some dollar bills from the pocket of his jeans. “thanks, man! have a nice night!”

his rushed and impatient behaviour made you laugh, noticing how he stumbled out of the vehicle before reaching for your hand and pulling you off the backseat. “thank you!” you laughed as you checked for your purse, finding out that colby had taken it out of your grasp. you must’ve been to nervous to notice.

he slammed the car door before clearing his throat and rubbing his hands together with a slight smirk. you were about to ask him what he was laughing at until colby ducked down and wrapped an arm around your waist before slinging you over his left shoulder to carry you to his place.

“colby!” you screeched loudly, wrapping your arms around his bare waist to keep yourself steady. his shirt had ridden up in the process of keeping you on his shoulder and you couldn’t help but trace the soft skin right above the waistband of his black jeans. “cover my ass, i don’t want your neighbors to see!”

colby let out a genuine laugh, one of his hands making sure your silky dress semi covered your butt by keeping his hand placed on one of your ass cheeks. “they won’t see you at this time, babe. they’ll definitely hear you though.”

“oh?” you asked him as he walked up to his front door, “you need your keys?”

colby scoffed playfully, “nah that’s alright, i’ll just fuck you on the front porch.” he joked as he felt your fingers slip into the front pocket of his jeans after you reached your arm around his waist to fish out the keys.

he skilfully took them from you before he quickly swung the door open and let you two inside, carefully placing you down onto your feet - making sure you wouldn’t hurt your clumsy self by accidentally rolling your ankles with the heels you were wearing.

your hands rested on his shoulders as colby threw the keys onto the high table in the hallway, not even caring they nearly fell down onto the floor due to the force of his throw. it was dark in the hallway as neither of you had turned on any lights, but you were still able to see his gorgeous face.

“fuck,” he breathed, hands placed on your waist as he pulled your body closer to his. “thought about this numerous times, y’know that?”

“have you actually?” you teased him as your hand played with a lock of hair at the nape of his neck, “with the times i caught you checking me out these past few weeks i would’ve thought you’d have your way with me sooner.”

colby’s eyes were trained on you as you spoke, lips curving up into a smirk as he noticed cat hadn’t caught your tongue and your teasing comments were riling him up even more than ever before. “what are you doing to me, baby?”

you nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders at his question, hands sliding down to meet his chest, “we’re just getting started, c. you better not tell me you’re at your best already.”

your words caused colby to let out a ‘fuck’ and a breathy laugh, throwing his head back as he thanked the heavens as he didn’t know what he ever did to deserve you. “babe,” he started, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “i think it’s time you stop running your mouth unless you’re making pretty other sounds for me.”

the way his voice seemed even lower than it usually was when he was aroused made you feel fuzzy. you looked up at him through your eyelashes as his hand calmly wrapped itself around your throat once again.

from drinking games and truth or dares you knew colby was into this sort of shit - hell you slept in his bed so many times the handcuffs he had for his own pleasure didn’t go unnoticed to you either. you never really knew how far you could take it when it came to firing back dirty and sarcastic comments, but with the way his cold silver rings were now slightly pressing into the skin of your throat - you guessed it somehow turned him on even more.

“you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he mumbled before pulling you in by the throat, finally closing the gap between your lips as he kissed you passionately.

it was clear to both of you that it was already worth the wait with the way you were desperately grasping each other’s bodies whilst your tongues kissed away in the dark hallway. you were letting out a whimper mixed with a groan when colby pulled back from the kiss but kept one of his hands around your throat. “need you so bad.”

“c’mon then,” you mumbled as you wiped some of your clear remains of lipgloss off his lips, taking his wrist in your grasp to pull him upstairs.

colby didn’t need to be told twice and followed you quickly, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you flush against his chest when you entered his dark bedroom. he hummed against your temple, one of his hands trailing down to the bottom of your black dress, raising it slightly so he was able to check you out from where you were standing in front of his full body length mirror.

his thumbs made their way to wrap themselves around the thin lacy band of your underwear, trying to keep the dress buched up around your waist. “look at you,” he sighed contently, pressing a few kisses onto your neck.

“colby, please,” you whimpered, feeling the need for him to at least do something about the pulsing in between your legs. “i need you so bad, stop fucking teasing me.”

colby knew you had a mouth on you and that was also one of the things he loved about you, even more in this instance. he shook his head in disbelief, not understanding how he got so lucky in this right exact moment. “good girl, just tell me all the things you want me to do to you.”

good girl.

your mind went blank but the way your ass was pressing against his growing bulge told colby more than he needed to know. with a quick tug on your panties he was sliding them down your legs, making sure you were stable enough to keep yourself up.

as much as he loved this dress on you, he was even more keen to get it off so that’s exactly what he did. colby looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, his mouth running dry at the sight of you standing in front of him. naked and vulnerable.

he noticed how you had the back of your head rested against his collarbone and leaned backwards to make sure you were as close to colby as could be. his arm wrapped around your waist and he easily dipped his fingers down to see your reaction before he tried anything.

“colby,” you whimpered softly, placing your hand onto his to guide it down to where you were aching for him. “need you.”

“i know baby, i know,” his words matched his actions as he started to circle your clit with his middle finger, free arm wrapped around you to keep you steady. “look at you, my girl. getting the attention you deserve.”

as his finger circled your clit, you felt as if you could burst already. colby surely knew what he was doing by making sure you both were able to see how much pleasure he brought you and he hadn’t even gone to third base just yet. colby was quick to respond to your body as you felt dizzy, body pressing backwards into his.

“oh my fuck- shit colby,” you moaned as he continued his actions whilst walking you to the bed and pressing you down onto it. you took a quick look at him and sent him a grin, motioning him over. “you’re wearing too much, let me see you too.”

god, colby loved it when he was able to take control over everything, but seeing you so confident and sexy made him rethink some things.

your hands tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room, now working om unbuckling his belt as you looked up at him. colby threw his head back with a groan as you undid his tight jeans and lightly pushed them down to release his cock.

your hands were a little cold and trembling when you gave him the first pump and it caused a shiver to run down his spine. you looked up at him and sent him a small smile, “not my fault your room is so fucking cold,” you joked, hardening him up as you kept pumping your hand up and down.

colby hissed slightly as you licked the tip of his sensitive cock, a hand immediately going to your hair to keep it out of you face as you fully took him into your mouth. he was a loss for words which rarely ever happened, the occasional ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ leaving his lips as he watched you gag yourself up and down.

“mhm,” he moaned, “as much as i want to cum right now i would love to fuck you even more.”

his words made you look up to meet his gaze through your lashes as your tongue swirled around his tip once more before colby hoisted you up and playfully smashed you onto the bed. he loved how you two were interfering your lustful thoughts with playfulness because it made him realise he wasn’t fucking some random girl. it was his girl this time.

you made sure you got comfy as colby got rid of his jeans and wasted no time in hovering over you once again. “hey pretty girl,” he mumbled when you caught his eye, feeling how his fingers softly worked you up once again.

you released a soft moan, wrapping one of your hands around his bicep. his words made you chuckle, “hi,” you mumbled, closing your eyes when colby leaned down to kiss you once again. you whimpered when his fingers left you cold and aching for his touch, his head shaking at your reaction before he slowly dragged his cock through your folds.

“god, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, noticing how you were biting your lip as you waited for him to fill you up. “gonna fuck you so well.”

colby’s words caused you to be even more needy than you already were and he seemed to notice it too. your pleads and wetness told him you were more than ready, and so he carefully guided his cock to your entrance after wetting it a bit more with your arousal.

he slid in slowly, a moan falling from both of your mouths as he was fully inside of you. “m- oh my fucking god,” you moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, one of his hands finding its place to where it belonged- prettily wrapped around your throat with thumb pressing into the right spot. “colby, baby- god i love your cock.”

“i can see that,” he moaned, a teasing grin forming on his lips before he locked gazes with you again, “you’re fucking insane,” he mumbled as he continued to pound into you.

with the rhythm he was going and how deep his cock reached inside of you, it wasn’t hard for you to feel the knot in your stomach approach. “i’m gonna- oh my god, don’t stop!”

“that’s my fucking girl,” colby stated, softly putting a bit of pressure on the spot on her neck as his thumb pressed into her skin. “there you go, feels good doesn’t it?”

you nodded your head heavily, apart from moaning and whimpering there were no words forming inside your brain. with his praising and the way he was pounding into you, colby had you seeing stars.

“i’m gonna cum baby,” he announced, intently watching your face as you nodded once again, silently telling him you were so close too, “alright let it all go for me, show me how well i fuck you, huh?”

colby never knew you loved being praised and talked through every single thing, but when you had an orgasm and moaned so loudly the entire neighbourhood was gonna hear you, he knew he picked the right girl.

he made sure you weren’t overstimulated by your orgasm when he sped up his movements quickly and came undone after fucking you for a few more seconds.

loud breathing filled the room as you two came down from your little adventure, colby slipping out of you and planting himself down next to you.

“oh my god,” you breathed with a chuckle, shooting up when you realised something. “you haven’t used your handcuffs on me! nah!”

colby bursted out into laughter, pulling your wrist to get you closer to him. his bare chest was pressed against your back as he pressed a few kisses onto your hair. “i already told you before, when i have my way with you i will not be able to stop. there’s always a next time, my girl.”

[wickedsmille]

batman, robin, sentient super suits, oh my! part 2

Here's Part 1 and somehow there's going to be a part 3 too because I'm apparently incapable of doing anything short. Just ain't made for it. I've become resigned to my fate. But, hey, here's part 2! ;3

----------

“What is going on with this thing tonight,” Tim murmurs harshly with an irritated huff. 

Jason would like to know, too, since Tim’s comms patched into his private line without Jason’s say so. It could’ve been the Red Hood fucking with him again but the suit has been tame. Well, okay, as tame as his suit gets. Which is suspicious all on its own but that’s a problem for a later time. Right now, he has an unsuspecting Tim on the line. 

“Come on you stupid piece of shit,” Tim whispers like a man at the end of his rope.

“Woah, woah, language there, RR,” Jason chides him because he can.

Tim makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a grunt which would normally have Jason laughing except Tim chokes off the sound and mutters, “Uh oh.”

He’s never liked uh oh’s. 

“What?” he demands, feigning annoyance but honestly a little worried. 

“So,” Tim starts hesitantly. The rest of the words spill out of him in a rush when he says, “I was trying to get a hold of Batgirl because I’m on a stake out that isn’t a stake out anymore and I’m currently hiding from about thirty heavily armed and trained mercenaries but all the exits are covered so I can’t exactly sneak out.”

Tim trails off while Jason’s stomach churns. “You’re what?” Jason responds, this time truly annoyed. 

“If I have to repeat myself and I give away my position,” Tim warns him absently. There’s another pause and Jason much prefers Tim’s word vomit to the ominous sound of Tim’s measured breathing and the growing din in the background. “Uh oh” Tim says but with more feeling this time. 

“Don’t you fucking uh oh me. Where are you?”

“It’s the home goods warehouse southeast of the docks. 1334 Har-." Tim doesn’t get a chance to finish rattling off the address. If Jason has to guess, he would say it has something to do with the sudden sound of gunfire.

This is not happening. He got butt dialed into a backup call and now the littlest bird is a sitting duck in a den of lions. With only Jason to lean on. Who isn’t even sure where he is. It’s not like the actual contents of Gotham’s warehouses isn’t ever shifting between legitimate goods and illicit ones or anything. Property rights and leases exchanging hands between asset management teams and gangs. Money is money after all. The area around the docks is all warehousing and logistics so, over all, Tim has been completely unhelpful. 

He knows better than to divide Tim’s attention when he’s in the middle of a serious fight. One wrong word and Jason could be the reason Tim gets a bullet to the brain or pushed off a two story catwalk. It doesn’t exactly leave him with very many options other than immediately changing his trajectory to take him over to the industrial center by the docks. It’s a quiet night. He should be able to hear the gunshots. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to waste valuable time playing Where’s The Fire Fight? because Red Hood has it handled. Or Tim finally made use of one of the many panic buttons he’s sure are sewn all over his less-than-stellar, non-magical-mystical-whatever suit. No matter how, Jason gets a ping on his HUD and a map of Gotham pulls up into the corner with a neat little red dot for Tim’s location. Now knowing where he’s going, Jason pushes himself to hurry the fuck up.

Getting back to his bike is a blur but he’s ripping down Gotham’s streets as soon as he gets the engine started and kickstand up. One irate cab driver has the audacity to honk at him when he blows through a red light so Jason gives him the middle finger and few choice words. The guy must be new to the city if he doesn’t know to look both ways for high speed vigilantes. Jason would be more than happy to teach him the lesson if he didn’t have places to be and things to do. 

Thanks to his incredible driving skills and his innate ability to not turn himself into a pavement pancake, Jason gets to the warehouse in record time. If only Guinness had been watching. He would’ve gotten a medal or whatever it is they do when someone breaks one of the many, many pointless world records the books have immortalized. 

Since all the doors and exterior windows do appear to be fortified and armed, Jason grapples himself to the roof and is delighted to see the unsecured skylight. Whoever these guys are, they must be from out of town too. Any Gotham-ized gangster, goon, villain or otherwise knows to board those up first. Out of towners, he swears. No problem, the cab driver got him primed for a teaching moment so he’s about to take these motherfuckers to school. 

Handling Vigilantes 101:

-Never leave your skylights or exterior vents unattended.

-Before engaging in criminal activity, make sure you have active health insurance.

-Prepare to get your ass pounded into paste by some douchebags in tight leather (and not in the fun way).

In true Bat-fashion, Jason makes his dramatic entrance via ziplining through the skylight after cracking the glass with the steel-toe of his boot. He’s already got a gun out by the time his feet touch down with a jarring thud. The total amateurs, by Gotham standards, startle enough Jason has ample time to start putting them down. A flash of red and black from the corner of his eye lets him know Tim has darted out to either pull some shifty, sneaky shit or find better coverage than the shot to hell crates he’d been keeping between himself and a .22 to the dome. 

Even when the mercs gather up their wits and retaliate against the new threat, the Red Hood does its job. About a minute of getting shot at, knowing he’ll be sporting a myriad of bruises from it but trusting his suit to keep anything fatal at bay, and the idiots start second guessing their current line of attack. 

What’s a bruise or two for the ghost tales that’ll get spread around about the Red Hood being impervious? Jason may be all too human but the Red Hood allows him to pose himself as something more, something greater. Obviously unnerved, the shooting stops as the guys start back pedaling. Too bad Red Robin is there to greet them when they turn tail to make a run for it. 

Jason watches as Tim neatly dispatches the leftovers. He might not have been able to properly appreciate it before, but Tim really is good with that stick of his. Liquid grace in motion, slipping under the mercenaries’ guards easily and transitioning from one opponent to another with a little flair and a lot of skill. Bits and pieces of it Jason can recognize from his own training regimens as Robin, some of it from a couple people he’s run into as Red Hood and can’t help but wonder how Tim met them. The weird amalgamation is all Tim though in the way he takes the best from what he’s learned then takes the discordant moves and shapes them into a symphony of movement. And pain cause, hot damn, Tim isn’t playing. Jason swears he sees one guy's molars get smacked right out of his head. 

One of the assholes groans from where he fell at Jason’s feet  after getting hit with a couple rubber bullets point blank so he kicks him in the head to shut him up. Jason is appraising his ally’s fighting skills, thanks. People can be so rude sometimes.

Tim downs the last merc and, with a satisfied smirk that has Jason’s gut twisting, he leans against his staff with his hip cocked. The tight fabric of his suit is clinging to him like a second skin. Enough so to make Selina and Dick proud. His cape falls in a wave at his back, held in place by the bandoliers crossing his chest. The damn things make Tim’s tiny waist painfully obvious. Small mercies Tim decided to ditch the cowl a few months back. The elegant fall of his too long hair suits the whole Red Robin look a lot better than the gimp cowl.

“Are you going to help secure them?” Tim asks, frowning and looking over his shoulder at Jason as he zipties one of the guys starting to wriggle around.

Jason’s higher thinking kicks back in. Tim does make a good point. They should probably truss up the trash before they’ve got another scuffle on their hands. He hadn’t even realized he drifted off a little bit there. Weird but it has been a long, strange night. Brushing it off, Jason crouches down to start hog tying the mercenaries closest to him. 

Nothing, nothing, will ever beat the hilarity that is criminals awake and wriggling while they’re literally hog tied. Tim may not have approved while he was doing it but, standing next to each other on an adjacent roof to make sure the GCPD carts them off as they should, Tim isn’t saying a bad word about it. In fact, his lips are pinched together like he’s trying to hold back a snicker. One of the mercenaries jolts awake when an officer takes their arm to start hauling them away. The man startles hard and starts grunting and thrashing. 

Tim loses it and, man, Jason has never heard him laugh. Like really laugh. It’s a good look on Tim. 

“I’m not saying you should’ve,” Tim pushes out past a couple more chuckles.

“I’m sensing a but,” Jason says, his grin all charm and completely wasted since Tim can’t see his face because of the helmet. 

“But,” Tim parrots, “that was pretty funny.”

Jason bows with a flourish which has Tim laughing anew though it is softer, quieter this time. In the middle of drinking up the delicate lines of Tim’s face and the curve of his smile, Jason’s HUD goes dark. Totally dead. There’s a couple emergency lights built inside since small, dark places don’t mix well with him anymore. Otherwise, nothing is working.

The Red Hood isn’t subtle one goddamn bit and the stupid suit is lucky he bothered with slapping a domino on before he went out tonight. Quickly undoing the security panels on the underside of his jaw, Jason pulls the helmet off. He shakes out his hair and swipes at the sweat beaded along his brow. A couple strands are stuck to his head and refuse to move so Jason reaches up and musses his hair in an attempt to not feel grungy and gross. 

When he looks up, Tim is staring at him so, without the barrier of the helmet, he whips back out the ol’ Jason Todd charm, smiling wolfishly. Then Tim sort of, freezes up. Jason looks over his shoulder to make sure some new big bad isn’t lurking nearby that they missed. But, nope, nothing there. As he turns his head to meet Tim’s gaze again, he’s back to normal. Tim’s approximation of normal at least. 

He’s tapping a hand against his thigh and looking off towards the cityscape of downtown Gotham. His other hand is settled firmly on his waist while he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“Alright, well, thanks for the backup. Talk about a happy accident,” Tim says after clearing his throat a couple times. 

“Don’t mention,” Jason tells him. “But really, don’t mention it. I don’t want all the Bats breathing down my neck.” 

They’re a give an inch, take a mile bunch. If he green lights as a solid reach out for back up, the next thing he knows he’ll be on the main comms listening to inane chatter. Probably have a shadow or two trailing him on patrols like he needs help running his happy, shitty section of the city. Invitations to the Cave will shift to dinners and movie nights. As pleasant as that all sounds, he’d like to avoid it at all costs.

Tim nods easily and readies his grapple. “Fair. Well. Have a good night?” The awkwardness of Tim’s polite goodbye has Jason laughing and shaking his head. Tim bristles as he shoots off his line. “Or not, whatever,” Tim mutters. 

“Yeah, alright, awkward bird,” Jason calls out to him as Tim swings away. 

Next time, it’s Jason reaching out to Tim. Not even Red Hood calling out to Red Robin. He’s literally phoning Tim's personal cell on one of his burners and asking for a favor. There’s a little cell of nasty drug traffickers from down south with their sights set on Gotham. Although he could wait for them to make the egregious mistake of coming onto his stomping grounds, Jason has decided to gift them the honor of a house call given the sheer viciousness they’ve been using to move their product. 

Problem is, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be undercover snuffing them out and Crime Alley rarely rests even with the Red Hood’s impressive shadow looming over it. If he goes dark for more than a week all hell breaks loose. Usually Roy will step in for him and his suit has been accommodating to the temporary trade off in wearer. That’s not an option this time with Roy otherwise occupied. As are his second and third options so he’s had no choice but to ask for help from the Bat he can best stand. 

He didn’t even need to threaten or bribe Tim after promising a rubber bullets only policy would be fine. The agreement may have come readily but Tim did sound distracted. A niggle of doubt has him pacing his apartment as he waits for Tim to show up. For all he knows, Tim might’ve been less present in the conversation than he thought and not show up at all. 

The knock at his window comes as a mild surprise. Twisting his head around, hand twitching towards the gun he has lying on the counter next to him, Jason relaxes when he sees Tim standing on his fire escape clad in dark clothes with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. Tim waves at him and gestures to the window with a raised brow. 

Jason doesn’t scramble to open it but he might do it a little too eagerly. Thankfully, Tim doesn’t comment on it as Jason steps back to let Tim in. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Tim asks dubiously once he’s standing in the middle of Jason’s living room with his hands jammed in his pouch pocket. 

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Jason responds without actually being sure. The Red Hood could always reject Tim. Only one way to find out though. “Follow me,” Jason says as he gestures Tim down the hall to his bedroom where he keeps his suit stored.

“Alright. Sorry I’m late, by the way. My suit has been giving me issues lately.”

“Like what?” Jason asks curiously as he pushes open the door to his room and goes to unearth the Red Hood.

Tim shrugs and absently looks around Jason’s room. It’s uncomfortable to have Tim here, for him to see where Jason lives. He does his best to ignore it as he spreads the suit out on his bed. Approaching slowly, Tim takes his hands out of his pocket so he can run a finger down the chestplate. The whole thing does a little shimmy shake. Jason has a bad feeling about this. 

“I’m not exactly your size,” Tim drawls, looking Jason up and down. 

A spark of molten heat sparks deep in his core so Jason smothers it with extreme prejudice. “If you’re not lookin’ like a kid in daddy’s clothes then we’ll be fine. It’ll adjust. If it likes you.”

“If it likes me,” Tim murmurs. 

There’s a sad, bitter edge to Tim’s expression as he stares down at the suit. Once more, Jason realizes he has stepped on a sore spot for Tim. The same one even. Let no one ever accuse him of being great at interpersonal relationships. 

Tim banishes whatever he has going through his mind with a shake of his head. His face shifts to one of determination as he shucks off his sweatshirt. And his shirt. Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants.

“Enjoying the show?” Tim questions sarcastically.

Right. Right, he was staring. When he shouldn’t have been. 

“I want a refund,” Jason throws out to cover his folly. Tim snorts so Jason takes it as a win. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if the suit gives you a hard time. It’ll listen to me sometimes.”

“Sometimes. That’s comforting.”

“I try. Now get your tiny ass in it.” 

Jason excuses himself from the room, shutting the door, before making his way to the kitchen where his open duffel bag is already stuffed with the essentials. To keep himself busy, Jason checks over the contents. Then double checking and tossing a couple other things in the bag. Once satisfied, he zips it up and pats the thick canvas of the bag. When he looks up from his distraction, Tim is there in the hallway.

I fucked up, Jason bemoans internally.

Not because the Red Hood is being antagonistic and obstinate in letting Tim help. The stupid suit must not have a single qualm with letting Tim wear it. Everything fits so damn well. There’s only so much reshaping the suit can usually do given the difference in size between himself and others but whatever bullshit gives the suits a brain has pulled out all the stops to make it work. 

Tim looks good in it. Still short although the heels on the boots are higher. The extra armoring pads Tim’s form, making him look bulkier than he is but the suit nips in at the waist. He’s pretty damn sure the tac pants aren’t supposed to be that tight, either. Tim tosses the helmet from hand to hand under Jason’s scrutinizing eyes before popping it on.

“Wow, okay, I want one of these,” Tim says through the voice modulator. The mechanical growl has a shiver running down Jason’s spine. Because he keeps his apartment cool and there’s a draft somewhere he hasn’t fixed yet, of course. “The tech in this thing.”

“Great for concussion prevention, too.”

“I’m hoping to not put that to the test.”

“Yeah, try not to. You’re still smaller than me, shrimp, so keep moving and maybe nobody will notice.”

Pulling the hood off, Tim glares at him. “I’m not that much smaller.”

“You’re like, what, a buck forty soaking wet?”

Huffing, Tim puts the helmet on again. “Excuse me while I prove that doesn’t matter.”

“Go off,” Jason cheers flatly. 

Tim flicks him off while he walks back towards the window. “Just getting in character,” he says as he gracefully slides back out onto the fire escape. 

I am so very, very fucked, Jason thinks with no small amount of dismay. There’s only so much a mantra of ‘Don’t stress, repress’ can do and it’s getting really hard to ignore the way he’s been responding to Tim. Doesn’t mean he’s not going to keep trying to savagely squash what he’s starting to suspect may be the beginnings of attraction. 

It all comes to a head when Tim asks him to partner up on a counterfeiting case. The request shouldn’t have surprised him. After Tim successfully patrolled Park Row as Red Hood, reporting no issues, they’ve been crossing paths more often. On one occasion, the tracker Jason stuck to a mobster’s car brought him to Tim instead. By some stroke of luck, Tim was tailing the same guy so, aside from the momentary hiccup, the takedown went smoothly. Then Tim’s grapple jammed when they were set to part ways another night after running into one another. Jason ended the night red faced and unable to think of anything but Tim’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, hanging on for dear life, as he flew them back to Tim’s bike. 

A few weeks ago, he’d ended up battered, bruised and bleeding in some dark, dank alley in the East End. Willingly, Jason hailed Tim for an assist. Tim got him to a safe house and patched him up efficiently. The weird thing is, Tim’s cape was being weird. Sure, that makes him sound slightly insane and maybe a civilian would think so but Jason has been a mask for what seems like half of forever now. He knows these suits. So, the way Tim’s cape had fallen around them, stretching itself so it covered the both of them to create a safe, quiet space all their own, was suspicious. Then it got really suspicious when Tim tried brushing it aside to get some better lighting while doing the stitches but the cape kept somehow slipping over his back to go back to embracing the both of them. 

There isn’t a single doubt in Jason’s mind that Red Robin was a plain,ol’ regular mass of fabric when Jason got it. None. He’s starting to suspect that isn’t the case anymore which is only cemented when they walk into the hotel room they booked for the night to serve as a base of operations in New York while they follow a trail of counterfeit money. 

See, Jason was right next to Tim in the car when he called the hotel and made the booking. He personally heard Tim ask for a room with twin beds and the front desk agent confirm there was one available. Then Tim had tossed his phone into his bag, the same one with his spare clothes and suit, and they’d blared hyper pop and grunge on the radio without a second thought. Jason vividly remembers pulling into the hotel parking lot and Tim grabbing his bag, fishing his phone out and frowning thoughtfully that the screen was on with his email open. After a cursory check, he’d shrugged it off and they got out to settle in. 

Getting comfortable is going to be a Herculean challenge for Jason since there’s only one queen bed in the room. 

Tim pauses in the entryway and blinks before glancing down at his key card, backing up to look at the room number and back down at the card again. “They must’ve made a mistake,” he says blankly. 

Before Jason can put his two cents in, Tim shoves his bag into Jason’s arms and snatches up Jason’s key card. Tim books it back down the hall towards the front desk. Which, okay, that’s fine. All’s the better because Jason will literally go insane if he has to share a bed with Tim. Years of freezing on the streets taught him to gravitate towards whatever heat source possible. Including people he trusts in his general vicinity when he’s sleeping. He simply won’t survive waking up with Tim as his personal teddy bear. 

Storming into the room, Jason throws Tim’s bag onto the bed and yanks it open. He opens the hidden pocket where Red Robin is neatly folded and glares down at it. 

“I don’t know what your game is, but cut that shit out,” Jason hisses at the suit. It doesn’t move but Jason gets the distinct impression it’s smug. Or he could be projecting. Can regular suits gain consciousness? Is that a thing? Doesn’t matter, not like anyone is around to judge him for talking to a maybe, maybe-not inanimate costume. “Seriously. I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it.”

Jason doesn’t get the opportunity to further threaten the Red Robin costume. A harried looking Tim pops back into the room, two key cards in hand. When he looks at Jason, he seems a little lost. 

“This was the only room they had left,” Tim tells him, tone carefully calm and even. “There’s some business conference going on.”

He swallows hard and nods, remembering a couple news articles he’d read through on it before leaving. “Okay, yeah, no problem.” There’s no couch either. Just a dresser, nightstand, bed, desk and one of those armchairs with cushions hard enough to use as a bludgeoning weapon. “I’ll take the floor?”

Tim doesn’t look at him but his face pinches in distaste at the idea. “No, it’s fine. We can share, right?”

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll take the floor,” Jason insists.

Now Tim looks him in the eye and the steely determination takes Jason by surprise. “I can’t even fathom what the stains on this carpet are and there’s no padding. You’ll wake up an aching mess and be useless on the mission tomorrow. We can share the bed,” he says firmly. 

Well, what is Jason supposed to say to that other than, “Good point. Bedfellows it is.”

The time they spend organizing their things and then getting ready to lie down is just as awkward as Jason thought it would be. On no fewer than five occasions, Jason nearly calls the whole thing off. There were other hotels in the area, right? Not all of them could possibly be full from the corporate HR consulting conference being held in town. Anything would be better than the fragile silence between them. 

He doesn’t though. The thought of backing out like a yellow bellied coward had his gut souring and his mood shifting from placid dread to irritation. Each time the impulse comes up, he kicks it to the recesses of his mind along with every budding fantasy of what the night may bring. It’s getting pretty cluttered in that dark corner of his mind. 

Tim doesn’t appear to be quite as affected. Some of his movements are stilted and he’s giving Jason a wider berth than normal but otherwise he does his own thing while Jason does his. If Jason weren’t harboring an incredibly inconvenient crush, he’d even say things were companionable. But he is, so suffocatingly uncomfortable atmosphere for him. Woe is his life, seriously. 

Those feelings of giddy anticipation and mounting horror go sharply into focus as he and Tim, dressed down for bed in sleep shirts and comfortable pants, stare at one another from either side of the bed. Tim has a corner of the blanket in his hand, fiddling with a loose thread on the side of it. Otherwise, he’s completely still and everything he’s thinking is locked up tight behind the pale blue of his eyes. Jason can’t help but fidget too, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he feels a prickle of embarrassment slithering down the back of his neck. This is the weirdest game of semi-gay chicken he’s ever engaged in. 

Jason breaks first if only to end the game. Grabbing the edge of his blanket, Jason tosses it back before flinging himself onto the bed. After a brief shuffle, he gets himself covered up to the chin with the blanket and his back facing Tim. Carefully, slowly, Tim crawls in beside him with much less flair and flourish. The blanket tugs for a second before settling again. While the bed is a good size, Jason isn’t exactly your average guy. Despite his best efforts to get as far away as he can, he can still feel Tim’s warmth brushing against his back like a phantom caress. 

Man, sleep isn’t happening. He may as well get up and do some more research on the case or something. Screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, Jason wrestles with himself on if he should ditch the idea of sharing the bed and how he can get out of it without being overtly disrespectful.

[101susu101]

Destruction and Chaos

Part 2 of Crossfire series

Ship: Matt Murdock X OC, Frank Castle's sister x Matt Murdock

Rating: 18+

Takes place during season 2 of Daredevil

A/N This is a slow burn romance between Matt Murdock and my own female OC (Alana Castle) she is Frank castles sister. The storyline follows season 2 of daredevil but without the Elektra and the “hand” storyline . The plot will include parts of the first season of the punisher as well. There’s a lot of mystery , angst , fluff. There will be warnings for smut. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list 🤍

Teaser

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

The night air clings to your skin as you scale the fire escape, breathe tight in your lungs, suit slick with sweat. Behind your black hood and tactical face mask, your heart pounds harder than your boots slamming against rusted metal. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover how you felt , the energy drink you chugged earlier barely dented the weight of another sleepless night. But you push through anyway.

You move like a shadow fast, deliberate, as you pull yourself onto the rooftop. The keycard scanner beeps quietly as you swipe it, and the access door clicks open. You step forward ready and alert. The inside hits you with a wash of artificial cold and sterile fluorescence, casting everything in that sickly blue glow hospitals always have.

Your hand hovers near the gun at your hip. Every step is calculated, your senses wired tight. The corridor is quiet. Too quiet. You press against the wall, ears straining past the distant beeping of heart monitors and the low murmur of voices.

This wing had barely any patients, you made sure of that. A nurse owed you a favor, and you cashed it in to have Grotto moved here. Fewer eyes. Less risk.

It was supposed to be clean. Controlled.

An extraction job.

You needed Grotto alive , he was your only chance of finding Frank before the city tore him apart… or he tore it down.

You swallow hard. No time for those thoughts. Not now.

You turn the corridor and relax a bit when you notice Room 414 is just up ahead. Your ears perk up in alert when sudden voices rise around the corner, nurses, maybe a security guard. You curse under your breath and duck into a supply closet to your right pressing yourself into the shadows and holding your breath. After a few moments the footsteps pass and you remained unnoticed. A beat later, so does the tension in your chest as you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

And then…chaos.

Screams. Gunfire. A blur rushes past the open door in front of you , Grotto, wide-eyed and bleeding, stumbling alongside the blonde woman dragging him by the arm.

Shit.

Then him.

You don’t think. You just move.

You lunge out, arm swinging wide. Your gloved hand grabs the shotgun in his grip and yanks it sideways. The other slams the butt into his temple.

Frank doesn’t flinch.

His eyes are empty. Cold. Autopilot. Dread coils in your gut.

He tears the weapon from your grip and shoves you hard. Your back hits the linoleum with a bone-rattling thud, pain sparking down your spine. You slide back, dazed, just in time to see him level the shotgun and fire. Glass shatters. Screams rip through the corridor.

He’s cutting a path of destruction and fear, your brother, the Punisher.

You scramble to your feet and throw yourself at him again. This time you take him down, tackling him from behind just as he raises the gun for another shot. You straddle him, pinning his arms with your knees, panting, the shotgun clattering to the side. You grab it quickly and aim it at his face.

“Stand down!” you bark, voice distorted through your mask, thick with rage and panic.

Frank stares up at you, chest heaving. Then he smirks.

For a split second, all you see is the brother who used to walk you home from school. The one who scared off bullies and tucked you in after nightmares. That version is long gone, buried under grief, war, and blood.

But you don’t want to lose what’s left. You can’t.

Before you can say a word to calm him down, he shifts, too fast. You’re disarmed in a blink. He grabs the shotgun and slams it across your head.

White hot pain explodes behind your eyes. You hit the floor with a grunt, the world spinning. Blood trickles down your temple. The taste of copper fills your mouth.

“Son of a bitch,” you rasp, touching the wet warmth with your glove. He just doesn’t quit does he?, you think to yourself, frustration bubbling.

Around you, people scream. Nurses, patients all frozen in horror. Sirens scream outside, a warning you don’t have time to heed.

You force yourself up. Vision swimming your head pounding.

He’s gone you realize as you look around frantically.

You lock eyes with a nurse who stares at you, trembling.

You curse yourself internally as you realize what you must do , you quickly rip your sidearm from its holster. Screams erupt again in fear as you level it at the nearest person.

“Where the hell did he go?!” you snarl demanding answers.

She chokes on a sob, hands up. “I-I think… he went to the roof…”

You don’t wait.

You bolt, feet pounding against tile, gun in hand. I’m close, you think, lungs burning.

Then- “Hold it right there!” A cop rounds the corner, gun drawn.

You curse and fire but not at him, at the overhead light above him. It bursts in a hail of sparks and glass. He flinches and covers his head, giving you a clear break to sprint past him, taking the stairs two at a time. Your skull throbs, blood dripping into your mask. But you run.

You can’t stop.

You burst onto the rooftop, heart hammering.

Frank stands at the edge, hunched over a sniper rifle aimed at the street below.

Your gaze follows the line of sight.

The blonde and Grotto.

He’s going to take the shot. He’s going to kill them.

Your heart drops, but your body moves before your mind can stop it. You raise your gun, aiming for his shoulder. You won’t kill him, but you’ll wound him if you have to.

You hold your breathe as your finger comes into contact with the trigger when all of a sudden…

A red blur crashes down.

You freeze. Breath hitching.

Daredevil.

You’ve only heard stories. Brutal. Relentless. Never lethal.

He slams into Frank, knocking the rifle aside. They fight like animals, Frank, all rage and fire. Daredevil, all precision and fury.

You dive in, tackling the man in red you didn’t want this fight to go far. But he’s fast. His elbow clips your jaw. You duck his next swing and flip him, kicking him to the ground. But it’s only seconds before he’s on his feet again, and Frank is lunging too.

Daredevil lands a solid punch to Frank’s ribs. You move to intercept, but a savage kick sends you flying. Your body slams into the concrete ledge. Agony blooms in your ribs.

Through the haze, you see fists flying, bodies slamming into walls. Grunts. Snarls. Impact after brutal impact.

Then… Frank pulls a knife.

You scramble for your baton and hurl it in his direction. It spins through the air, cracking against his hand. The knife drops causing Frank to curse in pain as he turns his head to you in a look mixed with betrayal and shock. Daredevil takes the opening, pummels him and pins him down.

You ignore the pain in your body and the feeling of fire in your chest as you struggle to lift yourself up not wanting this fight to go to far, you run towards them

Stop this you have to stop this you thought to yourself and then …

“Bang.” Frank muttered before the sound of a gunshot rippled through your ears

The sound punches the breath out of your lungs.

You watch in horror as Frank pulls a pistol from his ankle holster and shoots Daredevil in the head.

Time stops.

“NOOOO!” you don’t even register that you were screaming until after the fact . You lunge forward but it’s too late.

Daredevil stumbles. Blood blossoms from beneath the mask as he sways before tumbling over the edge. You tried to grab him but he fell quicker than you acted .

You anxiously peered down over the ledge fearful of what you were going to see, of what your brother just did . But the alleyway Is dark below. You can’t see anything. You stare in shock, shaking. Hands clutch the concrete. He was just trying to protect them you thought to yourself as guilt washed over you and you realized you and your brother’s actions resulted in his demise.

Behind you, Frank groans.

You turn, eyes burning, chest heaving. Tears blur your vision.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Frank?!” you shout.

He leans against the wall, bleeding, breath ragged. His expression is empty.

“Nice to see you too, Alana,” he mutters, smug. Hollow as he clutches his side from pain like nothing just happened.

You don’t know what breaks more

Your heart, or your faith.

[voxofthevoid]

Welcome to Time Travel Fuck-It Wednesday #2. We'll be here a while!

...I keep saying that, huh?

The fic is ~16k now, and while I have no earthly idea how long it will be, I've tentatively outlined seven chapters. There isn't much of a plot, except some background fix-it elements. The main story is a mixture of vibes and feels and, eventually, porn.

Spoilers for Ch 236 below. CWs for referenced MCD and underage.

“What about you, Yuuji?” Satoru asks. “Have you thought much about it? Beyond your type. I remember that—a tall woman with a big butt, hm? Good taste.”

Yuuji makes a low, throaty noise. It’s not quite embarrassment, even if his skin has grown warmer under Satoru’s fingers.

“I don’t know,” Yuuji answers after a few seconds. “I’ve never really… I mean, everyone has something about them. Pretty things, good things. I don’t know.”

“Everyone? That’s a dangerously generous way to love.”

“It’s not love.” Yuuji squirms a little, the mattress and the covers shifting with his movements, and when he resettles, his whole body is closer to Satoru’s. He’s not even sure Yuuji has noticed, brows furrowed in deep thought. “I’ve never been in love.”

“You’re only fifteen,” Satoru tells him.

Yuuji’s eyes snap to his face. He doesn’t say, I might only ever be fifteen.

But it’s there in the air between them, lending it a new weight.

Satoru shouldn’t, but—

“Do you wonder about it?”

“About—” Yuuji’s voice gives out. He clears his throat and tries again. “About being in love?”

“Yes. And everything else. The journey and the end.”

“…Not really.”

“Liar,” Satoru says, not unkindly, and Yuuji’s mouth curls into a puffy pout that’s quivering at the edges. “You’re a teenage boy. You can’t tell me you haven’t ever wanted someone.”

“I—that’s—it doesn’t really—”

“Or just thought of it,” Satoru continues, putting Yuuji out of his misery. “Kissing, touching. Sex. I remember that age, you know. Nothing wrong with wanting.”

“Even if it’s you?”

“Oh, I’ve wanted plenty in my life.”

“No,” Yuuji says, uncharacteristically solemn. “Me wanting you. Is that okay too?”

Satoru’s breath stills deep inside his lungs, long enough to become a feverish pulse. He lets it out, slow and controlled, and Yuuji’s eyes flutter shut for an instant.

There’s no surprise in him. He knew from the beginning how this would end.

“But is it me you want?” he asks. “Or am I all you have?”

Inexplicably, Yuuji laughs. It’s quiet and not mocking at all, but it’s still the one reaction Satoru wasn’t expecting.

Ducking his head, eyes heavy-lidded and hidden, Yuuji says, “I knew you’d say that. Somehow, I just knew.”

This boy, he—

“I’m not rejecting you,” Satoru hears himself say, tasting those words like they belong to a stranger. “But I’m your only real company aside from your grandfather. I’m not family, and I’m very handsome. I understand why, Yuuji. I just want to make sure you do as well.”

“Very handsome,” Yuuji repeats, and it’s louder and brighter now, the laughter in his voice. “And so humble too.”

“Humility is for the weak.”

Yuuji hums, more amused than skeptical. He looks and sounds like he couldn’t care less about the precise size of Satoru’s ego.

He looks—

“You’re also my death, Satoru-san,” he says, calm and steady and unspeakably devastating. “I want you anyway. Is that sure enough?”

Satoru swallows a noise. It wounds his throat, blood dripping acid-hot all the way down to the bones in his chest.

He says, “Yes.”

Yuuji kisses him.

Satoru sees it coming and lets it happen, and then it’s gone, the scant space between their bodies, as Yuuji presses close enough to burn them both down.

It’s a hot, needy press, all want and no finesse, and Satoru allows it without complaint until the frenzy drains out of Yuuji’s muscles and the line of his mouth gentles, pulling back a mere millimeter from Satoru’s lips before returning to him, a little more tentative and a hell of a lot sweeter, and Satoru can’t not smile into it, something hot and helium-light ripped right out of his guts, and Yuuji smiles too, letting out a long-held exhale that warms every inch of Satoru.

He curls a careful hand around the back of Yuuji’s head, palm sliding along the bristly undercut and the softer hairs above, and slots their mouths at a better angle. The newfound ease shivers down the length of their bodies, Yuuji’s smaller frame melting into Satoru’s.

Satoru parts his lips, and Yuuji, ever the eager learner, follows suit.

Warm mint floods his mouth, the familiar taste of his own toothpaste turned into sacred sacrilege on Yuuji’s tongue. Satoru sucks it clean, chasing the simple heat of flesh buried underneath.

Fingers dig into his shoulder, almost hard enough to bruise.

Yuuji’s panting into the kiss, harsh and ragged like he can’t quite breathe right.

But when Satoru pulls away, he chases his mouth, and Satoru chases him right back, holding Yuuji close as their mouths meet and part and breathe and burn. Pretty noises color the air, wet and sweet.

Nothing washes off the taste of blood in Satoru’s throat, but he wasn’t expecting that; he doesn’t deserve that.

He stops before they can go too far. Once, he’d have let Yuuji immolate his youth in a blaze of glory, not unlike and yet nothing like how Satoru had at an age no less tender. There was power in the choice, even if there would never be peace.

And he’ll still let Yuuji burn, but…not tonight, not yet.

Yuuji’s still breathing hard and staring at Satoru with stars in his eyes.

“Satoru-san,” he says, “that was…”

“Good?” Satoru fills in when Yuuji seems content to stare in stunned silence.

“Yes,” Yuuji rasps, shockingly vehement. “Yes, Satoru-san, I want—”

“Everything,” Satoru cuts in, “is yours. Tomorrow, the day after, every day until the end—everything is yours, if you want it. I promise. But for now, sleep on it.”

For a moment, it looks Yuuji will protest. It’s easy to tell why. Satoru can feel him, all that heat. And he wonders what he’ll do if Yuuji pushes. The wise thing, the right thing, the good thing—well, those are all past. But the best thing to do now would be to not indulge him.

Satoru’s not entirely sure that’s the choice he’ll make.

But in the end, he doesn’t have to choose at all. Yuuji nods once, making a visible attempt to calm down. Their entwined bodies don’t make it easy, and Satoru lets him extract his legs and angle his hips away without comment, but that’s as far as Yuuji goes, his torso still plastered against Satoru and his face still close enough that Satoru can feel his breath and his heat, all the way to the back of his throat.

“This is fine, right?” Yuuji asks. “You’re still staying.”

It’s not quite a question, but Satoru answers anyway. “As long as you want me to.”

“Good,” Yuuji breathes, another layer of tension draining from his body. “Thank you, Satoru-san.”

“Good night, Yuuji.”

It takes a while, Yuuji’s mind and body both clearly too awake, but he’s a very well-behaved boy through the torment, only breathing into Satoru’s shoulder and throat, deep and shallow in turn, until the call of sleep grows stronger than the bite of desire.

Satoru holds him through it, arms around Yuuji’s chest and face buried in his hair. It’s sinfully soft, the fruity scent of his shampoo not quite overpowering the smell of his sweat. It’s not familiar, but it’s not unfamiliar either. Satoru never held the old Yuuji like this, but he touched him and was touched by him plenty.

And Satoru never kissed that sunshine boy, but there’s a story he will never tell this Yuuji:

You kissed me once. I was dead. You closed my eyes and kissed my mouth and told me to rest, and when you died, it was still my blood there on your mouth

[friendlyloner]

Finished the cursed Autobot and the tiny cat ornament, but now they're sitting on my desk waiting for me to wash and iron them along with a bunch of other finishes that have been waiting for their final touches. I'm hoping to do a big finish round up for the year over my holiday hiatus but as of today work is already trying to encroach on my 2 weeks and like the millennial with a new mortgage I am, I will take the work over unpaid vacation.

It's been a quietish lately, recovery from my extraction is going slower than I'd hoped and I spent the weekend not doing any of the Christmas type shit I'd meant to and mostly sat on the couch and stitched. Got a bug up my ass to try and start and finish the small piece on dark blue that's going to be a baby elephant asleep on the moon. My cousin and her husband are coming in from Alberta for Christmas and she's in the baby way, a big deal for her because her previous pregnancy was ectopic and fairly traumatic. Elephants were her favorite growing up so I decided to try and whip this out to give in person since who knows when the Canada Post strike will end. I would say I'm being driven by hubris but as you can see the Xbox remote for my husband is nearly finished and it seems like it's fairly doable.

Work has decided to send me out to our satellite location to take over for the guy on our team out there who's bailing to go back to our sister show when it starts up again in the new year. It's probably going to be longer days, definitely a longer commute home, but comes with a significant raise. Plus it's only for 6 weeks before we're done for the season. Going to try and shoehorn a bunch of meal prep in over my break so I can have easy food to fall back on.

Christmas is weird when you're a childless atheist. I wanna get into that more but I also really need to go to the bathroom and this post is already pretty long. Next time I guess.

I am kinda liking doing this journaling thing with the framework of stitching updates. I like that it's mostly just chatting into the void. It'll be neat to have something to look back on and I've never been able to just journal for the sake of journaling and stick to it.

All of the below handles are just ripped from Instagram because I am lazy

The Xbox remote is by @theneedleandfloss

The Squirrel butt is from @dailycrossstitch

The yellow on dark blue is going to be a sleepy elephant on the moon and it's by @xstitchbyta

The yellow on light blue is a stabby duck of mysterious origin I had in my "free shit" pattern folder

[drtwit]

Miraculous Ladybug - Miraculous Menaces AU: Connecting the Dots

Miraculous Menaces AU

Chapter Summary:

Ladybug clashes with Heartbreaker, Chloe gets some advice, Volpina and Alya connect, and Hawkmoth becomes a mood.

This makes sense in context * 2:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58557754/chapters/167689525

An AU where Chat becomes Hawkmoth's partner in crime. At first, Adrien thought that the day he found out that his father was the supervillain terrorizing the people of Paris was the worst day of his life, but in retrospect, it might have been the one change needed to save his family. Because it was also the day that both of them realized that, when they don't need to be Adrien and Gabriel Agreste, they're both fucking goobers. Follow the adventures of Hawkmoth, Chat Noir, and their reluctant assistant who doesn't get paid enough, Nathalie, as they try to navigate life as a supervillain family. And pray for Ladybug's sanity as she suffers their antics.

Preview:

“It was an accident the first time.”

Another strum, this time two strings. Ladybug felt concentrated air tease at her hair.

“I was just using my power to make him look stupid, thought that was enough for my fill.” Heartless tipped to head down, pushing the butt of the guitar up to her chin, perfectly framing her hanging tongue. “Then that damn song came over the radio, filled me with the nostalgic vibes and- And…”

A full chord was enough to dig an invisible fist in Ladybug’s gut, sending her stumbling back. “Oh, the inspiration just hit me! Wrote a whole new chorus in under a minute, and he took that beat to heart.”

The chord transition to a simple sequence, gently sending waves of coaxing vibes in Ladybug’s direction. This time, Ladybug moved around the roof, making ample use of chimneys and doorways to act as cover.

“You know how it is. Once you get that catchy little ear worm in your head, you just can’t stop hearing it.”

Ladybug rolled over the edge, sliding down a section of sloped roof whilst the seductive serenade carved cracks into the brickwork behind her.

“Is that all?” She called back. “You went on a ritualistic killing spree because it’s like pringles and you can’t stop?”

A loud plop pulled Ladybug back up to the edge, throwing her head back to watch an upside-down perspective of Heartbreaker hopping on the edge and aiming her guitar right down the slope. “What can I say? When you find your calling, you need to answer it.”

“And your calling is, what? The magical equivalent of drugging your dates?” Ladybug fell forward into a summersault, flipping over the next wave of musical assault. “Are you just that much of a bore in real life?”

“My, my, you have quite the mouth on you.” Gritted teeth added roughness to Heartbreaker’s voice. “I don’t know if I’ll enjoy making it sing for me or ripping it out.”

As Ladybug landed, she found Heartless dropping down to persue, heels digging into the slope as she rode it down the way, positioned to face Ladybug side ways as she moved so she could continue blasting her soundtrack at her foe. Ladybug jumped up high, easily circumventing the attack and finally taking the chance to go for her yoyo.

“I don’t know about singing, my family say I have the scream of a duck with lung cancer.”

She casted the line, or more like punched in her line, sending the yoyo careening towards it’s target at immense speed. Heartless only barely managed to bring her guitar up to bat away the attack, left stumbling back over herself in the aftermath.

[frozenjokes]

Signing Off - 2

Prev/Next

PEARL

When Scar had ordered her to the ship’s wheel on account of the fast approaching storm, Pearl had run as fast as she could. Anything to get away. Anything to avoid facing her reality. Mumbo was dead. If he wasn’t yet, he surely would be. What would happen to the crew? To her? This was all she had- how could all of that just be ripped away?

She couldn’t listen to Grian’s panicked yelling anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to defend him from Scar’s harsh rebuke. She could only run. Pearl gripped the wheel hard, grateful for the wind blowing at her back and carrying their voices elsewhere. She was even grateful for the rain that suddenly began to fall against her neck, cooling and calming her frazzled mind. It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t even been steering the boat.

She looked up for the first time, squinting as the rain began to pound down with increasing intensity. Everywhere as far as she could see was oppressive and dark. Was she supposed to steer out of this? Which way was even out ?

Gunshots shattered her focus. Her first instinct was to run forward toward them, to help with whatever horrible accident had just occurred, but something, fear maybe, kept her hands glued to the wheel. She ducked down. Waited.

Grian screamed, scrambling on the slick floorboards out from the direction of the crew’s quarters. His voice seemed to struggle and falter as it tried to form words, failing completely as another bullet ricocheted off the hardwood next to his feet.

“Geez, I’m really not as good of a shot as I used to be. Quit moving, will you? Captain’s orders!” There was joy in Scar’s voice, not unlike the carefree tones he usually sang, but today it held sickly undertones. Pearl’s brain short circuited. Adrenaline didn’t consider the people in front of her as who they were. Just threats and victims. She drew her sword.

Thunder and rain obscured the sound of her light footsteps, her dark cloak fitting neatly into the shadows. She had to be careful; gain information, but not recklessly. Move slow, but not too slow, or she’d be too late. Luckily, Scar didn’t seem to be in much of a rush.

“Grian! Won’t you say something? Personally, I would never want to die screaming. I thought we might be similar in that way. Are you really only going to run?”

Grian gaped at Scar, hair plastered against his face by rain, but could only scream as Scar shot again. Pearl ducked as Scar turned his head, almost looking sorrowful. Was he.. looking for her? Did he want to be stopped? But Scar didn’t seem to find what he was looking for, instead choosing to advance on Grian. Grian tried to keep distance, but slipped in his panic to stay away.

“Come on, Grian,” Scar growled, eyes lighting up with anger, “Don’t tell me this is the way you want to go. Where’s your fire?”

Grian’s legs shook so violently, he couldn’t even stand. He scrambled backwards until he hit the crow’s nest post, squeaking as he did so.

Scar raised his gun. Pearl leapt.

The shot fired into the ground as Pearl landed squarely on Scar’s back, clawing and biting like the sword in her hand simply wouldn’t be enough for the pain she needed to inflict. Scar yelped and stumbled at the sudden weight, nearly falling forward, but reeled his weight back suddenly, using the momentum to slam the butt of his gun into the side of Pearl’s face. She crumpled off of him with a screech almost inhuman, but was back up in moments, charging with her sword outstretched, back into battle. Scar was ready with his own, face alight with glee as metal clashed.

“So is no one going to ask me why? I had a whole thing planned, it was going to be great!”

“No. I don’t care,” Pearl spat, pulling her sword back into another heavy blow.

“Fair enough!” Scar blocked the swing at his neck, framing his wicked grin between their weapons. He turned his head for a moment, eying Grian’s shaking form, “Take notes, will you?”

He would pay for that arrogance, but Pearl knew from many years on this ship that Scar could never help himself. The taunting, the playing around; he never failed to make a bad situation worse. She and Grian used to joke about it. Scar was going to get himself killed! But he was crafty, always managing to slip out of a sticky situation, even if he had endangered everyone’s lives by causing it in the first place. There was a reason he led them. A reason they called him Captain. Well, not anymore.

Pearl landed a direct kick to Scar’s stomach while his head was turned, folding him over and sending him to the ground. Grian had to jump out of the way before Scar crashed into him, both men tumbling on the slick ground. Scar scrambled back, but was stopped short by the crow’s nest pole. He cast a sad glance to his sword, cast to the wayside.

“Oh! Well would you look at that,” Scar wheezed, holding his stomach. He reached for his sword, but Grian lunged forward to snatch it away, stumbling to his feet to join Pearl in pointing their blades at Scar’s neck.

“Suppose this won’t do,” Scar sighed, unsheathing the bloody dagger at his hip. He held it out to the rain, letting the blood wash down his arm. Pearl lunged forward to end it, but was stopped by Grian’s meek voice.

“Impulse..and.. and..”

“Mumbo’s still kicking, if that’s what you wanted to know. Well. He won’t be kicking anymore by the looks of it. He probably broke his back, if not worse. There’s no way he makes it back to land-“

“Impulse is dead?” Pearl’s voice cracked, broken from her focus for the first time. Scar looked happy to answer, but her sword in his shoulder shut him up. Well, at the very least he was whining instead of speaking. She ripped it out, turning back to Grian.

“I went to.. Scar was just standing over him on the ground.. Mumbo. I have to go see Mumbo. If he dies I..”

“Let’s go. I’ll finish up here,” Pearl turned back to Scar, curled up pathetically against the pole. Scar smiled at her. No fronting grin. No bright eyes. Just a closed-mouth, genuine smile. She could have puked.

A massive clap of thunder shook the ship, and lightning struck down on the highest point, splitting the crow’s nest with a massive crack . Pearl stumbled back with her hands over her eyes as bright flame bloomed through the sails, eyes stinging.

“Pearl!” Grian’s hands gripped her cloak pulling her backward as the massive post in front of her began to fall. Scar’s dagger came down on Grian’s hands, forcibly separating the both of them. Before Grian could hope to fight back, Scar sent him onto his back with one strong kick. Pearl leapt froward at his turned back, but Scar was ready, lunging past her outstretched sword to deliver a heavy punch to her face. Pearl’s hands flew to her nose as blood spurted forward, her weapon clinking to the ground. In her daze, it was easy for Scar to sweep her legs out from under her and hop backward. She screeched, clawing back to her feet to pursue him, but was rubberbanded back by the dagger Scar had left in her hood, fastening her to the floor.

“Let me go! Scar! Scar! Let me- Pearl!” Grian wailed, scratching at Scar’s arms against his neck. She met Scar’s eyes, staring intently into hers. She didn’t want to see the the pillar that was surely bearing down on her now. She didn’t have time to think. To escape. She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t give Scar the satisfaction of fighting.

[infamoussparks]

Chapter 2: Safe with Me

Approx. 4,000 words; 25 minute read.

“You! Stop moving!” Shit. Fetch tsked softly and slid her butt to the floor, sitting down and raising her hands in front of her in a show of cooperation and surrender. But her eyes were narrowed and hard, her body language not hiding the fight in her eyes. As the guard moved his attention to someone else, Fetch slowly placed her hands on the floor, the tiles cool beneath her palms. Her position wasn’t far off from where she wanted to be in the room and she still felt that she could execute her plan, which fueled her confidence.

Back within the comfort of her own office, Rosaline created a makeshift pillow using her extra doctor coat that hung on the back of her office door and laid Caly down on top of half of a fluffy blanket on the small couch she had in her dark space. Caly made no noise as she snuggled in and started to drift back into sleep. Rosaline covered her with the remaining half of the blanket while thinking to herself how amazing it was that kids could fall asleep practically anywhere so quickly. 

“You poor thing. You’re exhausted. I hope your Mom knows to come back here for you. I hope she’s… safe.” The words felt wrong to say, as though it sealed an unspoken fate. Rosaline tried to shake off the thought but then a familiar chime rang through the speakers and she almost dismissed it… except no follow up announcement signaled that the chime was just a drill. The hospital had different sounding alerts and drills were run several times a month, much like a fire alarm being tested to ensure everyone knew what to do in the case of a real emergency. This particular alarm that sounded was for a full hospital lockdown so now Rosaline was on high alert, further spiked by Caly quickly falling asleep in her office.

“Caly? Can you wake up for a bit? I need to go see what is going on. Stay here and stay quiet, ok? I promise I’ll be back for you. See my badge? No one can get in here without it. You’re safe.” Caly was struggling to keep her eyes open, her lids fluttering heavily as the doctor gave her instructions. Within a moment after a nod of understanding, Caly was back asleep, the blanket pulled over her head.

Rosaline did not want to leave Caly here but instincts told her it was the best thing to do right now. She left her office, ensuring the lock clicked into place behind her and smoothed her doctor coat as she quickened her pace toward the Maternity ward waiting room to see what was going on.

The day had been moving along just fine. Patrol of the city street from the rooftops was often boring work but Fetch enjoyed her shift nonetheless as it gave her time to stretch her legs and run free with her boost of neon at her heels. As she was about to call it quits and head back toward the school to review lesson plans before her classes started, she heard a shrill alarm from a large building to her right. Hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of two uniformed men standing outside the main doors and Fetch grabbed her cell phone, sending a photo and a short text to Delsin and Eugene.

Recognize these uniforms? Alarm at children’s hospital. Checking it out.

She didn’t wait for a response before turning off her phone completely and shoving it into the back pocket of her ripped jeans, dropping into an alley beside the hospital and strolling inside without a second glance from the unusual guards posted outside.

Once inside, she heard the alarm again and heard shouting from somewhere down the hall before her. Fetch didn’t wait to see what was going on while running down the hall as quietly as she could, her neon extinguished but easy enough to summon should she need it. She ducked into a waiting room where people seemed to be crying and whimpering. She tightened her jaw when she saw three men, in the same uniforms as the ones out front, with large weapons pointed at the people who were all sitting on the floor. Some were crying and clearly panicked and scared while one of the uniformed men with a helmet on and tinted visor down over his face was barking at them to stay quiet.

Fetch dropped to the ground trying to blend in and started crawling toward the center of the room. If she could get there, she could get the jump on these guys using neon without the worry of hurting anyone beyond her targets. She’d also have a straight shot to the doorway behind the men–an easy way to evacuate everyone once they were safe.

“You! Stop moving!” Shit. Fetch tsked softly and slid her butt to the floor, sitting down and raising her hands in front of her in a show of cooperation and surrender. But her eyes were narrowed and hard, her body language not hiding the fight in her eyes. As the guard moved his attention to someone else, Fetch slowly placed her hands on the floor, the tiles cool beneath her palms. Her position wasn’t far off from where she wanted to be in the room and she still felt that she could execute her plan, which fueled her confidence.

Suddenly a voice seemed to pull her attention from the guards, <Fetch…? Are you Fetch Walker?>

It caught her off-guard and she spoke normally without regard for the caution of the space she was in, “Yeah. Who said that?”

“No talking!” The familiar click of a gun being swung in her direction had Fetch growl as her attention was pulled to the barrel of the weapon. The men were wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints on their shiny murder toys… interesting.

<Keep quiet. They can’t hear me. If you are Fetch Walker, please just nod once or tap your finger along the floor twice.> The voice seemed loud enough for anyone to hear it and Fetch was slightly confused as to how someone could be speaking to her but no one else seemed to hear it. She waited for the guard to sweep his attention to a now sobbing woman and she tapped her index finger against the tiles twice.

<Thank God. This hospital is full of pregnant people, newborns and children. We need to make sure everyone gets full medical care without interruption. We need to get this situation under control quickly.>

“What do you want me to do?” Fetch spoke again, causing the closest guard to turn his gun on her, pressing the barrel into her chest sharply.

“I want you to shut the hell up! Speak again and you’ll be too dead to regret it.” A muffled voice sounded over the radio system attached to the shoulder on each mans’ uniform and the guard turned his attention to getting that message understood. Fetch glanced around looking for the person who was needing her help, but saw no one seemed to make eye contact nor get her attention.

<First, stop answering out loud. I can’t hear your thoughts but I am speaking to you through my own. Please nod if this makes sense.>

Fetch turned her attention back to the three armed men, quickly studying the uniforms for any identification as she nodded casually.

<Good. My name is Doctor Hutch. We are under a lockdown. These men stormed our hospital looking for something called ‘Project 41 and 42’. Do you know what that is?>

The voice was coming in clearer now that Fetch realized it was in her mind and that was why no one else could hear it. It was a woman’s voice and it was calm and collected. It had to be someone in this room with her but Fetch decided to stop looking for whomever it belonged to and to focus on the task at hand. She shook her head slightly from side to side in a silent answer.

<No, huh? I have a sinking suspicion that I have what they are looking for. I need your help to get to my office and get Caly to safety. I’ll find you after the hospital is clear. Can I trust you?>

Fetch bobbed her chin in response, her jaw set in determination.

<Thank you. I’m going to distract the guards and slide you my badge. You’ll need it to get access to my office. It’s on your left just past the Maternity Wing, first floor. Take a left out of that doorway in front of you. I’m counting on your speed here… please no fighting. It will scare her.>

With another subtle nod, Fetch stored the directions away and shifted herself into more of a crouching position to give her a jump start on a dash once the badge was in her hands. She wasn’t sure how this mysterious Doctor Hutch would distract these no-nonsense guards, but she was here for a reason and apparently that was not to help the hospital but instead to run with whoever this “Caly” was and to get her to a safe place.

<I’m going to cut communication with you now. Once the guards are distracted, take my badge and go. I’ll find you!> Suddenly, Fetch’s head felt heavy silence as though someone had turned on the noise-canceling button of headphones she didn’t know she was wearing. She focused on the closest man before her when suddenly he dropped his weapon and was scrambling to pull off his helmet with a loud shout. The helmet clattered to the floor beside the gun as the man put his hands over his ears and screamed in pain and surprise. The guard to his right gave a glance to the guard just outside the doorway before striding over to the one screaming and reaching out to him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” As the second guards’ hand touched the screamer’s shoulder he immediately also started yelling and panicking, weapon dropping and helmet quickly being unbuckled with his free hand. It was during this weird show of invisible distraction, that Fetch felt something bump into her boot. She snatched up the mentioned badge and in a burst of pink and yellow, raced out of the room, heading toward the office. The final guard didn’t even have time to fire a warning shot as he was so distracted and confused over what was happening to his partners that he let Fetch go further into the hospital without a fight.

It took seconds for Fetch to reach the office and she shook off her neon and gave a look down the hallway both ways before placing the badge on the reader and unlocking the door. She slipped inside and the door closed, locking behind her. She didn’t know what this “Caly” person looked like but before she could start her search, movement to her left caught her eye.

A child was wide awake and had moved herself into the far corner of the couch, her pink blanket brought up over her mouth, gray eyes wide in fear and uncertainty.

“... Caly? Are you Caly?” Fetch reached out to the child and she shrunk further away. The neon-wielder paused in her approach and instead knelt beside the couch, holding up the badge beside her head.

“Caly, Doctor Hutch sent me to come get you. It’s not safe here right now and she wanted me to get you someplace safer. My name is Fetch. Will you come with me?”

Caly looked from the badge with Rosaline’s photo on it, to Fetch and after a moment nodded then stood up on the couch reaching her hands upwards. Fetch released a quiet breath of relief and stood before picking up the child.

“Listen, I’m going to take you back with me but we are going to run very, very fast. I need you to hang on very, very tight, okay? You can close your eyes. I promise to be careful.” Caly nodded again and buried her face against Fetch’s neck, squeezing her eyes closed and clinging tightly to both Fetch and her blanket. Fetch reached into her pocket and pulled out the emblem that Delsin had given her. It hung from a necklace chain, something she had modified it to do instead of being pinned to her outfits daily, suddenly thankful she didn’t have time to clasp it around her neck this morning. She left her emblem necklace on the Doctor’s desk before pocketing the badge and listening at the door. No alarming sounds were heard so she carefully pushed the door open and checked the hallways before leaving the office and racing off toward the emergency exit. Leaving through that door set off a secondary alarm and this one she recognized as one that Seattle Police would respond to. She hoped they’d arrive quickly.

“Should we go looking for her?” Delsin was pacing in the office, wearing a path of worry into the thin carpet below his sneakers. Eugene was perched on the arm of the red couch in the office, looking at his cell phone and quickly running through different apps and settings.

Eugene paused long enough to make eye contact with his clearly worried friend, “Her phone is off. We can’t track her, but we trust her. We know her, Delsin. She’ll be okay.”

“What if something happened? What if she–” Delsin was cut off by a burst of bright pink neon rushing into the room and slamming the door behind her. Fetch seemed to be okay as she leaned herself against the door to catch her breath. Her back was to the guys and Delsin nearly seemed to snap to her side with Eugene giving her a once over to check for any signs of Fetch needing immediate first aid.

Delsin motioned broadly, his voice raised in relief with a bite of anger, “Fetch! You gave me a heart attack! What the hell happened–”

“Shhhh!” Fetch spun around then to face her friends and that’s when they both saw Caly clinging to and being cradled by Fetch. Fetch looked utterly exhausted too, which was unusual for her.

Delsin’s mouth dropped open without a sound. His anger vanished in a moment seeing Fetch standing there with this tiny human wrapped around her. Fetch looked so… motherly. That was something he never thought he’d see with her, despite his brain providing him with plenty of what-if daydreams in which similar scenarios played out.

“Is she okay? Are you? Here, get her to the couch.” Eugene leaped into motion grabbing a blanket and moving a throw pillow horizontally on the couch. He was great with kids, mostly because he felt like he could relate to them. The teenagers at the school were more comfortable with Delsin and Fetch.

Fetch blew out a rush of air and moved toward the couch, sitting down carefully and gently running her hand through Caly’s hair, “Hey, Caly? We’re here. You did great. You were very brave.”

Caly blinked and looked around cautiously before releasing her hold on Fetch and slipping off her lap and onto the couch cushion beside the pink-haired woman. Her gray eyes studied Eugene who knelt before her and offered her a rubber duck he pulled from the window ledge behind the desk. Caly took the duck and held it. Delsin slowly approached from around the back of the couch and gave Caly a quick glance before locking eyes with Fetch. His ears started to heat up suddenly and he raised one hand to absently rub the back of his neck, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“There was a lockdown at the hospital and these uniforms I’ve never seen. I went in, but then had a weird encounter with a conduit who had telepathy, maybe? She’s a doctor… Here's her badge. She said the uniforms may be after Caly here. Asked me to get her somewhere safe. I ran all the way back here via rooftops with neon, carrying Caly, so we’d have less chance of being seen.” Fetch tossed the badge to Delsin who caught it with his open hand. After examining it, he passed it to Eugene who took it and held it.

“Caly? My name is Eugene. How old are you?” Caly gave Eugene a small smile, mimicking his own, before holding up four fingers.

“She’s four years old, guys. Seems too young to do any damage that would cause a lockdown.” Eugene stood and took the badge to the desk, opening up their shared laptop and setting to work.

Fetch looked at Caly and tried to piece together the puzzle she had before her, but she felt like she was missing pieces. Caly yawned and snuggled against Fetch, placing her thumb in her mouth and hooking the index finger of the same hand over her tiny nose. She pulled her soft pink blanket up close to her face with her other hand, the rubber duck falling into her lap.

“Fetch, I… “ Delsin started to speak, but the image before him seemed to be washing him in feelings he thought he had long since buried and forgotten about. Fetch ran her fingers through Caly’s hair, gently pulling at the hair ties and releasing the platinum blonde hair from the lopsided and wind-blown pigtails and into a mess of waves and curls.

“I’m sorry to worry you, Smokes. I just had this feeling… you know? Like when you are exactly where you are meant to be? I didn’t have time to do much else besides send that photo and text.” Fetch’s voice was soft, speaking more to the top of Caly’s head than looking at Delsin directly. She wasn’t avoiding him, not exactly, but she had a feeling this was going to lead into a different conversation if she didn’t keep it on topic.

“Yeah, that photo was a bit blurry but I’ve never seen those uniforms before. I ran a script on it to see if I could track any similar photos and only pulled up one posted late last night on social media. They seem to be a cross between police and some old D.U.P. looks, wouldn’t you agree?” Eugene was focused on the laptop, the keyboard quietly clacking away, the reflection of the screen visible in his eyeglasses.

Fetch turned her attention to Eugene and tilted her head slightly as though she was lost in thought, “... yeah, maybe? I dunno… they seemed so… crisp. Anything popping up if you search for D.U.P. or factions?”

“Nothing. Everything is just from seven years ago when they disbanded and shut down. It’s weird though… Did you get a closer look at the logo on the front at all? It was too small and blurred for me to make out.”

“An owl. It was an owl. I got close enough to take note of it. I can draw it for you in a bit. I’m… kinda stuck here for right now.” Caly had fallen asleep against Fetch’s warm side and her thumb was slowly falling out of her mouth. Eugene glanced around the laptop screen and smiled at seeing Caly so cuddled into Fetch, before nodding with approval at Fetch’s suggestion.

Delsin suddenly interjected, pulling himself loose from his thoughts, “What about that doctor? Anything on her?”

“Doctor Rosaline Hutch, CGC which is code for Certified Genetic Counselor. Fairly new to Seattle. She has a published, award-winning paper on the conduit gene and how to identify it. It won her a prestigious ASHG–American Society of Human Genetics–award and quite a large sum of money. Looks like she used some of that money to help expand Seattle Children’s Hospital.” Eugene scrolled through his findings, “No mention of any kids of her own, but she does have a sister who lives nearby. Is Caly related to her somehow?”

“I… I don’t know. She didn’t say. Just told me to get her out of there and keep her safe. I figured this was the best place for her. Doctor Hutch said she’d find me after the hospital was safe. I left a calling card of sorts behind in her office to help her track me down.”

Delsin shrugged, “Then I guess we will keep the kid safe and wait it out. We can question the doctor once she shows up.”

“... Will she show up?” Eugene peered over his glasses, his focus bouncing between Caly and Fetch.

“Absolutely. I triggered the main alarm for the hospital on my way out. The cops have gotta have things sorted by now.” Fetch shifted just enough to gently maneuver Caly onto the pillow beside her. She grabbed the blanket Eugene had set on the couch and shook it out before laying it over the small child and making sure she stayed asleep.

Delsin stepped behind the desk now and took over the laptop, typing something quickly. The laptop speakers sparked to life, relaying a live feed of a local news channel that was set outside the hospital where the reporter was explaining that everything was under control and no one was hurt. His eyebrow shot up and he glanced back at Fetch over the screen.

Fetch rolled her eyes, “The doctor did something to distract the uniforms long enough for me to grab Caly. I’m not sure what she did or how, but they seemed like they were in pain from hearing something only they could hear. But if the news isn’t reporting about the uniforms then we may have bigger problems.”

“She’s right. No mention of the uniforms or anything related to any reason on why exactly the alarm was triggered.” Eugene had seized control of the laptop again and his glasses reflected that he had already pulled up various sources looking for information before it was asked of him.

Delsin moved to perch on the edge of the desk, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he exhaled a puff of air. No one had a moment longer to think things over before a soft knock sounded on the office door, “Come in.”

The door opened and a female student stood there in the hallway before waving hello at Delsin and ushering over someone beyond the door frame. A woman walked into the office with the confidence and professionalism expected of someone wearing that doctor’s coat. Her hair was up in a bun, made slightly messy from the earlier events of the day. She removed her glasses and allowed them to dangle from the beaded chain around her neck.

Delsin stood up and dropped his arms before clearing his throat, “Thanks, Alessia.” He crossed over to the door and closed it, leaving the students to wonder about the doctor now in a meeting with the founders of the school. Fetch glanced over the back of the couch and Eugene stood from behind the desk, closing the laptop.

The woman held out her fist and walked toward Fetch, dropping something into Fetch’s outstretched hand, “Thank you for this.” She peeked over the couch and sighed softly in relief at seeing Caly there asleep. Fetch nodded and clasped the returned necklace around her neck, dropping the emblem into her shirt.

“Doctor Hutch, I presume? I’m Delsin Rowe, that’s Eugene Sims and I see you’ve met Fetch already. Welcome to our safe haven,” Delsin spoke welcomely though he had an edge to his voice that teetered on the verge of suspicion.

“Please, call me Rosaline. I’m sure you have questions for me. I don’t know that I have all the answers, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

Fetch was standing now, having walked around to the back of the couch and was leaning against it. She held the doctor’s badge out toward Rosaline who took it and dropped it into her pocket. Eugene joined the group and stood beside Fetch. Delsin offered Rosaline a cold water bottle from a tiny refrigerator beside the office door.

“We’d love to know what you know.”

[beast-of-the-void]

My dreams are cinematic. I can sometimes not be in them. Other times I can get stuck for what feels like weeks or months in a progressing story. This past week has given me 2 doozies, so I'll share. granted, these haven't been edited for anything more than spacing

it's a roger rabbit esque world

an actor/extra walking through a lot, is met up with by daffy duck who is constantly getting into shenanigans with people moving set pieces and large props. average looney tunes silliness.

Daffy is telling him that he knows the look and the feel of long term big stars and that the man feels like he's going to be the it boy of the next few years after their movie. they've been working on it for the past 4 years and this was supposed to be a wrap day, the filming of the penultimate scene.

the man is humble and states he's at least grateful to have gotten to work with such a cool guy as mr. duck.

"We're friends now, sport. You call me Daffy. I'll see you out there." they split ways.

Cut to an assistant handing a big wig a coffee, the big wig (also a toon) states that Daffy's a great comedic mind and comedic minds are great in serious roles. just let it flow and see what there is to take. The director looks long suffering and defeated, goes to his chair behind the screens and waits for set up.

There is a fight. civil war times. There's the extra from earlier, He's getting roughed up here and there, This is one take, 16 cameras all around to catch the whole thing as some form of organic scene building.

The flash of a pistol and he swings his rifle to point at Daffy who was behind him as they ran to meet the "enemy".

"Say it's not you, general!"

"It's not you, general." Daffy lunges at the man.

they argue and many shots are taken, a la elmer fudd. "liberty and freedom" vs "tradition and glory" FIRE! Daffy is hit.

They fall into the mud. The extra is holding him, asking why. Daffy pats his face with a mud and blood hand.

"Take this lesson, jonny boy, money and fear are the world's worst motivators." Daffy's hand falls, ripping a primal anguished scream out of the actor as he looks up to the rain machines, the other actors all stop to watch.

The crew is enrapt.

"Cut! That's a wrap!" Cheers from all around.

Daffy playfully smooshing the extra's other cheek with mud "Geez, MC, way to eat the scene"

They laughed and MC helped Daffy to his feet before climbing up himself. The director and the bigwig were talking lowly at the edge of the set, the director giving the MC a very knowing look, one that he missed by talking with the duck.

MC, now showered and coming into a lovely home is greeted by his long time GF. They give a cute kiss and she states that her and the kids made a treat today. she is compiling rolls (look like slices of croissant like buttery goodness) to fill a tray.

The 14 year old, 8 year old, and 7 year old happily call them butt munch buns. 8 year old then claims that is was for MC. MC says he wishes either they'd stop calling him that or at least call the buns something better.

The gf chides all parties a little, and says that theyre all getting ready to go out to eat to celebrate the movie wrapping and a small return to normalcy. She asks if he would please get his daughter motivated to go, since they still have a few hours before dinner. He looks excited that she is home.

a knock, "SC, you decent?"

"At a lot of things. Why what d'ya need?"

he comes in. the daughter is black and older. obv not part of the brood downstairs.

"Very funny. You here for the weekend?"

"Yeah, figured I'd check on you, GF, and the rowdy bunch."

"They made those rolls"

"I'm not putting anything named after you like that near my mouth. don't need that taste association"

"Fair enough. How were midterms? I don't want to pry, given you're a few years into your program now, but I get curious"

"Dad, what are you talking about? I'm still in kindergarten."

They're on a walk around the neighborhood, she asks if he met anyone interesting. He says Daffy Duck is pretty cool for an older dude, didn't know he's still doing his own stunts.

"Him and Jackie Chan probably have the same health insurance."

She asks when he's going to see her mom next. He says soon. Just had to get the time off. She asks why he still goes after what she did.

"she's your mom, kid. I owe her some recognition for that."

cut to reporters asking an attorney how mrs MC is eligible for parole/in low security. The attorney is stating that while on the rarer side, it is indeed an illness that she has. it's been confirmed by medical professionals and will continue to be studied. -- in a facility. pt. on one side of desk, dr and toon nurse on other.

"No. There's nothing there. I'm telling you that something is strange, but it isn't living cartoons!" She says to a human doctor who is looking at a toon nurse.

"so what do you see holding up the clipboard?"

"It's a floating clip board. but I'm sure that i can literally walk through the air around it!"

"let's not get more charges on your record, hm?"

She sat at a table, tapping her finger on the surface, "How am I supposed to keep up with everyone else's imagination? How am I supposed to know when there's a "toon" person in front of me? I don't hear them, I don't see them. then I'm told I'm covered in blood and whatever else. Why dont they ever hurt or interact with me then?"

That's the point I woke up. The next night: Had a dream where I was back at uni and was taking my usual resting nap under my favorite tree when I overheard 3 people laughing and mid conversation walking by.

1: "Everything got ooze man."

2: "Ghosts aren't real, and even if they were, ectoplasm isn't the same as mucus."

1: "But that's what I'm saying! What if mucus membranes are only changing what would be ectoplasm into mucus because of an evolutionary thing that the meat did?"

3: "Please quit referring to living things as meat. Especially since you're lumping mushrooms and plants in there."

2: "You'll need to rewrite that book. "Not everything poops, but everything got ooze."

1: "Correction: spooky ooze. But I'll definitely get on it. Anything's better than stats homework."

then I rolled over to see who tf it was and opened my eyes in my room.

Anyway, that's what I got to offer this go around. It should be noted that Uni was back in 2008 and I haven't seen Roger Rabbit in like 10 years.

hey say something nice to me

[dadjokestop]

Get ready for a cheeky laugh with these adult dirty jokes! These risqué one-liners are perfect for an adult audience and sure to spice up any gathering. Just remember, these are all in good fun! 1. Why do ducks have feathers? To cover their butts when they quack! 2. What’s the difference between a G-spot and a golf ball? You can’t drive a golf ball 200 yards! 3. Why don’t scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything, including bad decisions! 4. What did the toaster say to the slice of bread? “I want you inside me!” 5. Why was the math book sad? Because it had too many problems... in the bedroom! 6. How does a penguin build its house? Igloos it together... but that’s not the only thing it’s good at! 7. What did one ocean say to the other ocean? Nothing, they just waved... but they also made some splashy decisions! 8. Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because it wasn’t peeling well... or maybe just needed a checkup! 9. What do you call a dirty joke? A pun that needs a shower! 10. Why did the woman bring a ladder to the bar? Because she heard the drinks were on the house! 11. What’s the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament? Live stream it... just like your ex! 12. Why don’t we ever tell secrets on a farm? Because the potatoes have eyes, and the corn has ears! 13. What do you call a cheap circumcision? A rip-off! 14. Why was the broom late? Because it swept too much and got caught up! 15. What do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire? Frostbite... and a biting sense of humor! 16. How do you organize a space party? You planet... but don’t forget the space for fun! 17. What did one saggy boob say to the other? “We should probably get some support!” 18. Why did the chicken join a band? Because it had the drumsticks... and the rhythm! 19. What did the fisherman say to the mermaid? “Can I get a hook up?” 20. Why don’t skeletons fight each other? They don’t have the guts... or the bodies to back it up! There you have it—20 adult dirty jokes to share with friends who appreciate a little cheeky humor! Enjoy responsibly and keep the laughter rolling!

[linkfandos]

WARNING: Hard boiling Xiaomi/

Yup that's a very controversial title but let me explain. Also it's not COMPLETELY shit you'll see.

So the begining

Basically, my old phone died recently. So rest in peace Samsung Galaxy J6 2018 Custom rommed that did a boot loop he never recover from-

So the thing is I destroyed my wallet and bought a new one. Saw good reviews online, so came to a store and chose it. First mistake.

The first shit

So it's a Xiaomi Redmi Note 13. It's a pretty decent phone in term of specs with cool cpu and 8GB of RAM and 256 of ROM… Like it's OKAY. It came with MiUI. Which is basically their own OS.

I immediately updated to HyperOS, which was the new version of MiUI. After that i just… used it like a normal person UNTIL!

The day i got ads for changing my wallpaper.

I changed. My wallpaper. By the way it was a drawing of Atlas my beloved moth Squidinu i love you kfjddjfdkfjdkf

So like… Opened Google photo, selected it, got "Set as wallpaper" and then SURPRISE M.THER F.CKER. (Was for temu btw)

I was like "bro what" Cause' i thought i had opened something weird or anything well NOPE The app was "Themes". Then it just randomly closed that's an issue too.

So! Opened settings, got in "Themes and look" THEN SURPRISE ANOTHER AD!

Useless to add that, for some reason, THEMES WHERE PAID. EVERYTHING IN THIS (duck) (butt) APP STORE WAS 1€. (Nope it's not made by Electronics Arts.)

I said (duck) off imma made my own one. So downloaded KLWP (which is some cool app to make custom animated wallpapers and stuff) and enabled it. Didn't work. Why? AUTHORIZATION """""refused""""" for my """"""security""""""

We're talking about reading the number of notifications i have.

So yea that didn't work either.

So, duh, imma try to remove the bloatware.

Spoiler i can't it just says "nuh uh" and pops out some random error.

XDA forums.

So! Since this thing was going to kill me! I decided i should install a GSI! (Cause' for some reason no custom roms were out yet you'll see why later)

SO! Unlocked OEM, Check Installed SHIZUKU, Check Downloaded LeafOS, Check Bootloader unlocked, HUH OH! NUH UUH!!

Usually to unlock the bootloader, you have to use a app for Microsoft Windows, which is already a problem since i use linux and i can only imagine what kind of things OSX (Mac) users have to go through, then you plug it in, open fastboot, (Which is an mode on android that allows you to edit partitions using commands) and then "Error! unauthorized!"

Well the issue was easy, i had to open settings and link my developer account to the phone to unlock bootloader!

The result: Nope.

I think you might have expected it but that didn't worked. At all.

The page in settings shows up some error in Chinese. Which apparently translated (Thanks Gemini) says something like "You need to validate your account on community app"

So i tried.

Installed the VERY sketchy "Mi !NEW HOME! Community App" (that's the actual name on the G Play store.) and logged in, settings, "Unlock boot loader".

Yup… Umm…

"You… " erm. "You have to wait until 8/8 (mm/dd) at 00:00 (UTC+8) to try again."

So i did.

"You have to wait until 8/9 (mm/dd) at 00:00 (UTC+8) to try again."

…Seriously?

Waited 2 days. For nothing.

You see why nobody makes custom rom? Cause' xiaomi is so buggy that you can't even unlock boot loader with THEIR OWN TOOLS.

Honestly, i'm not the kind of person to usually roast something like this, but… Seriously. I didn't even mentioned the translation errors everywhere, the app icons, the bloatware… Even the whole OS looks like ripped off Apple iOS!

So yea. Sorry Xiaomi but right now, i hate you.

So i'll try again tonight and check if that works, even if right now i need a tall buff guy to hug me from behind and hold me in place so i dont use PSI Teleport ß into their office and kill everyone using Sharpshooter and Ricoshots. (P rank)

[garbagefarm]

Garbage Farm #53

2024-05-13, session #53 of Garbage Farm! Spanning Spring 10 through Spring 18 of Year 5!

cast:

me ( @mothmute )

E.B. ( @blueherin )

Kimi ( @2kimi2furious )

Highlights include, but are not limited to the following:

Spring 10:

Kimi found the “butts” sign, hehehehehehehehe

Grandpa Jr. is getting underfoot and in my way!!

Kimi is off to level up her Combat skill

EB is silent, but the sound of deforestation says everything

I spend most of the day reorganizing the storage shed

rip EB, killed by the beans

Kimi want to convince some Junimos to live on the farm.

Spring 11:

My day begins with an iron bar from “clint, the blacksmith”— hey, why’d you sign it that way? do you think I don’t know who you are?? is that just literally your name???

Kimi goes to fight skulls

More reorganization!!

and I end up ignoring the animals all day, oops

EB puts a mannequin in the storage shed

Spring 12:

EB envies my farming mastery and my iridium scythe

I spend all day working on the storage AGAIN. Somebody's gotta do it!!

Kimi does not like the mannequin, and dies a hater. rip Kimi.

WITCH SIGHTING

Spring 13, egg festival:

you're no good, ducks.

(I decide to just ignore the animals today.)

Jas worries about Vincent getting all the eggs, but he's terrible at this.

Pizza hides in the bushes like a weirdo, Harvey walks off without his kids, and my kids—Bartholomew and Theophania—merge into a single entity before splitting. Why can’t any of our kids be normal??

egg egg egg EGG EGG EGG

EB wins!!

Kimi may’ve been hindered by thinking Jas was an egg

Spring 14:

Elliott took care of some animals for us, the man is a saint

desertfest tomorrow! Kimi hunts skulls in preparation

EB and I both drop what we're doing to go see the train. (I borrowed Kimi’s horse, Pie-O-My, to get there in time) I don't think either of us got anything from it.

I have a bunch of trees planted up there for tapping, and I’ve been meaning to redo them all. EB and I rip them all out while we're up there.

when we get back, the animals are acting ... weird. Kimi asks “how weird?” and I say they remind me of Pizza, to her absolute horror. They're just standing there, staring, perfectly aligned. (See Gallery)

The wine can wait until later, right?

Spring 15 (Desert Fest, day 1):

Desert fest is here! Kimi and I get there early and start scoping things out

I head to the Skulls and get to work, before eventually deciding to just use staircases to get down to level 100 and finally get the Iridium Snake Milk.

Kimi bets on King Sting and loses, bad luck

We all get dressed up by Emily, I look like Super Mario.

All of us want free cactis!

Kimi does not like the free food pervert. She gets a casserole, EB got nachos, and I got “rumpled fruit skin” earlier in the day

Spring 16 (Desert Fest, day 2):

I hit the skulls again, and ... !!!

I got an auto-petter! It is possible!!

Linus held on to the bottom of the bus in search of spicy desert trash, and approves of Kimi digging through the festival garbage.

Emily dressed me up as a cop. What the hell, Emily.

Barely made it to bed

Spring 17 (Desert Fest, day 3):

Marnie is thinking about milk, apparently.

EB and I root for Cactus Crawler, Kimi picks King Sting ... CACTUS CRAWLER TAKES IT, wooooo!

I want what Caroline's selling (if you know what I mean ... her Exotic Palace)

Emily dressed EB up as a possum, not a mouse. It's her “pos-play”

spend all my remaining eggs on miscellaneous trash just to spend 'em

Spring 18?:

non-canon day

Everybody comes over to check out my exotic palace 😏

-

TO-DO:

Kimi wants to get to level 10 combat so she can begin her masteries, get started with starfruit so we can get Junimos, and improve her house

EB wants those things too, though is indifferent about the starfruit and the Junimos

I found a golden animal crackers, nobody's sure what we're doing with it yet.

Gotta finish Qi's Crop! Speaking of which, there should be another Qi quest available...

I need a rainy day, might use a totem to get it

Additional fish pond?

(my to-do list is so long...)

GALLERY:

the alignment.

Good Garbage, everybody!!

[capt-mactavish]

POW

Summary: Male reader whose part of the 141 gets captured during a mission and the team rallies to rescue them.

Warnings for: Graphic depictions of injury, torture, violence

Pairings: None, not really. Soap x M!Reader or Ghost x M!Reader if you squint I guess, but I didn’t write this with pairings in mind.

Authors note: I have not played the game, I’m poor, so if the characters are ooc please forgive me. I’m going by the fics and drabbles I’ve read.

Part 1/?

Pt 2 Pt. 3

Sacrifice

“Gaz, I’m gonna make you an opening! Get out of here! I’ll be right behind you!” you shout over the gunfire. 

Gaz looks reluctant, but nods anyway. 

You turn your attention back to the fire fight, and empty your last magazine as you lay down cover fire for your companion to get away. 

“Go! Go!” you shout, watching out of your peripheral as Gaz makes a break for it through a doorway that leads outside. 

Ducking back down behind the makeshift barricade you’ve taken cover behind, you pat yourself down for any spare ammunition. To no avail. All you have left is a knife and a grenade. 

You curse. 

It will have to do. 

Lobbing the device over the barricade, you ready your knife and wait for the grenade to go off before exiting cover to run after your companion. 

There’s a lull in the gunfire, but you barely register it as your heart pounds in your head, legs pushing you forward as fast as you can muster yourself to go. 

You’re nearly there. You can almost reach out and touch the wood frame of the doorway Gaz had run through just moments before. He’s probably already regrouped with the rest of the team by now, waiting for you to join them.

A lone gunshot rings out, and before you can process the pain in your knee, your leg gives out and sends you to the floor. The knife in your hand knocked out of your grasp, sliding across the floor. 

“Gah!” A pained sound manages to rip itself out of your dry throat as the pain finally blooms in your kneecap. 

The sound of footsteps behind you has your heart leaping into your throat and you scramble for the knife. But just as your fingers brush the handle of the blade, a boot stomps down on your hand. 

You hiss, and dare to look up at your assailant, only to see the butt of a rifle coming down at your head before everything goes dark. 

---

“Gaz, you made it! Where’s (Y/C/S)?” Soap calls out as Gaz jogs up to the rest of the team. Ghost is tying a cloth around Johnny’s arm, reddening from a wound where he was clipped by a bullet.

“We were pinned down… (Y/C/S) covered my exit… said he’d be right behind me,” Gaz huffs, trying to catch his breath. 

Gaz turns around, and everyone else looks past him as well, expecting you to come round the corner any moment. 

Seconds pass, nothing. Not even any sounds indicating your approach. Even the gunfire in the distance back where Gaz had come from had ceased and an unnerving silence had fallen over the battlefield. 

“Maybe-” Soap starts, but a single gunshot cuts him off and he, Gaz and Ghost are already running.

By the time they get there, though, the building is clear. No one, save for the enemy corpses you and Gaz had managed to bring down in your firefight, was left inside. 

“He said he’d be right behind me,” Gaz says again, his voice wavering, and Ghost gives him a pat on the shoulder as he walks past, a silent comfort that he isn’t to blame. 

“L.t., I’ve got something,” Soap says, his voice laced with disappointment. 

On the ground, just inside the doorway, (Y/C/S)’s knife lay discarded on the ground, along with splatters of fresh blood and the tell-tale signs that a body had been dragged away. 

“They got ‘im,” says Soap, more to himself than to anyone in particular. 

“Fuck!” Gaz curses, and kicks at a piece of old wooden furniture, smashing it to pieces.

“We going after them then, L.t.?” Soap speaks up again, an edge to his voice this time, a quiet rage building within him. 

You hadn’t been with the 141 long, but in that short time you had, Soap had already grown fond of you. They all have. Especially Gaz, who had practically become your best friend and teamed up with often. 

You fell in with the group so easily, like you had always belonged with them, even Ghost seemed to enjoy your presence among them. 

Ghost looks up from where he had been quietly studying the scene, dark eyes taking in every bit of information to be gleaned from what was left. 

“Negative,” he answers, his tone low and dangerous. Then he turns and makes for the exit.

Soap blinks, confused, and looks over to Gaz, who looks equally as baffled by the Lieutenants response. 

“Sir-” A protest already on the tip of Soap’s tongue, moving to follow him. But when Ghost whirls back around on him, the Scotsman’s lips clamp shut.

“They’re long gone, Johnny. And right now we’re not equipped to go after them. But make no mistake,” Ghost loomed over the Sergeant, brows knitted in what Soap could tell was a menacing scowl under the skull mask. “We will get him back,”

His eyes flick over to Gaz as he finishes, “Mark my words.”

---

You awake in the dark, tied to a chair by your wrists and ankles, presumably with some sort of sack over your head. 

The first thing you feel is the pain from the blow to the head that knocked you out. The second is the bullet still lodged in your kneecap and the third is the cold that seems to have settled into your bones, making you shiver. 

As you test your restraints, the leg of the chair you’re in scrapes slightly against the floor and the sound echoes around the room, telling you it’s probably some sort of jail cell. And as the bag is snatched off your head, you find your deductions to be correct.

The only thing in the room save for you and your chair is your captor, who stands in front of you, and a few guards by the barred entrance. The walls are made of a dingy concrete that look about as bad as you feel. Stained with who knows what, indicating you’re probably not the first person to have taken up residence here. The only source of light comes from behind you, you assume a small window high up on the wall that lets in the most pathetic amount of sunlight imaginable.

“Good morning,” your captor taunts, giving you a sick smirk. “I’m sure you understand the… situation you are in.”

You remain silent, giving your captor the nastiest glare you could manage.

The man continues, using his hands as he speaks in an almost casual manner, “This doesn’t have to be difficult. Your stay here can be as long or as short as you would like. It’s all up to you. I just have a few questions, and if you answer them honestly, you are free to go. Understand?”

Your lips, chapped and cracked from dehydration, curl back from your teeth in a snarl.

“What makes you think I would tell you anything?”  

Your captor sighs deeply and clicks his tongue, circling around to stand behind you.

“Shame. But you underestimate,” a rope falls over your head, and by the time you realize it’s a noose, it’s already tightened threateningly around your throat, pulling a choked sound from you as your airway is constricted. “In the end, we will get what we want.”

---

The days drag on, and the 141 are no closer to finding you than the day you were taken. Everyone has run themselves ragged trying to gain intel on your whereabouts, especially Ghost, whom Price has had to order to rest on more than one occasion. 

Everyone is exhausted and on edge, but hope is not lost, and when Gaz comes back with intel on a possible location, they all spring to action. 

“Sergeant, are you sure about this?” asks Price, going over the plan in the meeting room with the rest of the team.

“No,” Gaz answers honestly, “But at present it’s all we’ve got, sir.” 

“Why are we debatin’ this?” Soap chimes in, and all eyes are on him. “We should be stormin’ this place. Even if (Y/N)’s not there, we might find something else that could point us in the right direction. Besides,”

A dark expression crosses Soap’s features and he cracks his knuckles, “Wouldn’t mind cracking a few skulls in the meantime.” 

A hush falls over the team as Soap’s words are considered. But it doesn’t last long, as Ghost’s voice breaks the silence.

“Agreed. If there’s a chance, Captain, we should take it.”

Everyone’s attention is back on Price, who is looking around the table at the team in turn, noting the determination in their expressions.

“Right,” Price says at last. “Ready up. Let’s bring our boy home.”

To be continued...

[flickering-nightfall]

Hey! I came from youtube (the Hey Ya duck dance vid) and first of all, I LOVE your style, it's so adorable and smooth! I'm not super aware of rainworld lore, but your stuff makes me want to get into it! If you don't mind me asking, what program do you use to draw/animate?

Heya from the other side! I'd say if you want to avoid RW spoilers make sure to blacklist the rw spoilers/dp spoilers tags from me, but that's like 90% of my stuff on here lol

I use Toonboom Advanced (unfortunately) (it's way too expensive) (and swatches have their uses but I really miss my color wheel)

Like look at what I have to deal with.

I want to try TVPaint instead (they have permanent licenses!!! I hate subscriptions), but I can't afford to invest in that right now. I've tried Photoshop, Krita and CSP too. Photoshop is okay but definitely far more finicky - I'll have to give it a shot again sometime. Krita, same hat, but I have less experience with it than Photoshop. CSP animation is way different from everything else I've tried and I couldn't get into it. I also used to use Flash, but mostly for interactive comics rather than animation. (They're all dead now outside of .swf files, RIP Flash.) I prefer bitmaps/pixels over vectors but man, vectors are useful sometimes...

For non-animations I use Paint Tool Sai 2. It's got its limitations, but it feels the most natural to me. When I need fancier text or actual art brushes for background stuff, I switch to CSP, or Photoshop for filters/special effects. (I don't think I've used those two for anything I've posted so far except for Pebbles' motion-blurred "YOU ROTTEN SISTER YOUR BUTT IS CRUSHING ME" though)

Anyways, thanks so much! I should get back to animating now that you mention it... progress has been slow on the SRS and Spearmaster vid. I've been distracted by a lot of stuff lately.

[countrymusiclover]

2 - Unexpected Reunion

Part 3

His Other Admirer

Blinking my eyes open I clutched them closed immediately at feeling a splitting headache. Resting a hand to my forehead I slowly sit up trying to not puke feeling I'm sitting on a bed. Squinting my eyes open I look around the room not recognizing anything. The covers are moved on the other side and I see a note on the other pillow. "I called your foks told them where you were. So don't worry - Jake." Reading the words it comes back to me. That I went to the bar with Jake and I couldn't handle alcohol. Since I haven't drank it in a couple years. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed I slowly get to my feet stumbling and grabbing onto the bed frame for support.

The front door gets opened as I make my way into the living hearing the dog going off on someone in the driveway. "Get your stubborn ass down here and give me a divorce!" A woman's voice taunted as I climbed on the back of the couch trying to figure out who it is. I know I recognize the voice but I can't place who the heck it is which is annoying. Jake walked back on the porch having the girl follow him so I ducked down so they won't see I'm watching them. "Please sign these papers so I can go home." He spun on his feet scoffing at her. "What do you know from home. Hell I bet your foks don't even know you're in town." The woman sniped back at him. "That's my business!" He gets in her face pointing out where I get a glimpse of blonde hair. "Honey, those people are the only family you got. Get your butt back in the car and go see'em. Then maybe we'll talk."

"Jake! You dumb, stubborn, redneck hick. The only reason you won't sign these papers is cause I want you to!" I gasped nearly falling onto the ground hard finally recognizing the voice of Melanie Smooter. Jake spun around yelling at her through the screen door. "Wrong. The only reason I ain't singin' is cause you've turned into some hoity-toity Yankee bitch, and I'd like nothing better right now then to piss you off!" He slammed the front door but the blind flies up until he ripped it off the door finally seeing me. "How you feelin'?" His voice was much calmer until he ran to the backdoor locking it. Climbing off the couch I watched him grab a beer from the fridge. "Why is Mel here exactly?" He popped it open rolling his eyes. "To annoy the hell out of me." He glanced to the front door seeing it opened right before Melanie's voice appeared. "Next time you lock somebody out, make sure they don't know where the spare keys hidden." Jake shakes his head annoyed. "Well, see, that's the thing about hide-a-keys...it would be nice if your wife told you where it was!"

Melanie sighed looking into his eyes before I peaked my head from around his shoulder. "Melanie?" Her face changed to have a huge grin running to me and I run to her. We wrap our arms around each other smiling. Once we break apart I awed at her outfit. "So where'd you get the outfit?" She tucks her short hair behind her ear smiling. "I designed it actually." I nodded hearing Jake slamming his bedroom door. She tilts her head to the side seeing me wearing messy clothes from last night. "So what happened to you. Have you told him yet-" I pressed my hand over her mouth cutting her off. "How do you know about my...crush?" I whispered glaring at her. She pulls my hand down whispering back before the bedroom door opened again. "It's obvious to me. Jake doesn't let anyone sleep overnight. At least someone he doesn't intend to sleep with." I glanced down to my feet before she takes a seat down on the couch watching Jake come back in the room.

A few minutes later I see lights of red and blue appearing on the wall and I shake my head knowing he called the sheriff. "You called the sheriff. You know that old bastard hates me!" Melanie shouted trying to hide before the door opened and she saw Wade. Who she ran to smiling knowing she wouldn't get in as much trouble with him as the sheriff now. Wade simply said that she didn't break in since they're still married which only makes them argue more. Rubbing a hand over my forehead I can feel my hangover headache trying to come back from all their yelling. Leaning up against the wall of the kitchen Jake stands by me pointing to her. "You remember that incident of vandalism out at the stockyard, totally her!" Melanie mocked crossing her arms over her chest. "Like I could tip a cow by myself." Running my hands through my hair Jake tried again to get her arrested, snapping his fingers he mentioned something. "Wade...isn't there some outstanding warrant for whoever dumped your mama's tractor in the fishpond?" Melanie gasped and I smack his arms. "Jake Perry!" In the end she was arrested.

"Did you really have to bring up the tractor insident?" I questioned sitting on his front porch watching the sun set off on the water. His plane sitting on the dock and Bryant lays at my feet. My fingers snatching behind his ears as he sleeps hearing the front door opened. "She had no right to break into my house." He grumbled taking a seat beside me. "Still she didn't deserve to be outed, Jake." He sipped his beer turning his head my direction asking with a smile. "You've ever gone flyin' before honey?" I shake my head no which promoted him to get to his feet holding an open hand out for me. Slowly I placed mine in his and Bryant followed us to the docks. He started the airplane once I put my seat belt on slowly flying up into the air. My hands gripped the seat a little never being off the ground before but I'm tempted to glance out the window seeing the sky painted to be a ray of orange and yellow. Jake glanced to you and he gets lost in how the sky brightened your beauty. A huge smile on your lips that he had never thought of kissing until this very moment. But he shakes off the feeling knowing that he's still married to Melanie so there's no chance for the two of you until he fixes that.

Comments really appreciated ❤️