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world-of-aus · 4 years

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Strictly Confidential - Part 2

Warnings: Bucky Barnes being not so smooth ( is that a warning), 18+ extra steamy flashback and an equally steamy ending, you’re welcome.

A/N:if you all get confused with the first steamy scene and how Bucky is referring to the reader as vixen or she or her, this is only due to him not knowing it was you hence why the last scene i am using you, does that make sense? Sorry for the delay y’all, I honestly was not expecting writing this type of smut to be this hard, but it is lol! I hope you enjoy this steamy little chapter, the fun is really going to start next chapter! As always tag-lists are open, and thank you so much for reading!

Part 1 / Series Masterlist

Your striding over till your in front of his desk – a desk he’d very much like to bend you over. Your hand stretches, a bright smile pulling at your lips, “y/f/n, y/l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

Oh fucking hell.

Bucky has to adjust himself in his chair, his slacks suddenly constricting.

“Pleasures all mine,” no really it was, “ please take a seat,” on my lap.

God get it together Barnes!

“So y/n, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, who you worked for, what you do on the side.”

“On the side sir?” You questioned.

Bucky blinked owlishly, could she please stop calling him sir it was doing things to him, that shouldn’t be happening during work hours.

“Sir?”

Bucky cleared his throat adjusting himself in his seat and slacks as well, “Steve you think you could switch on the fan for me before you head out? Bucky questions voice coming out strained.

Steve offers him a smile, “sure thing, uh y/n whenever your done here with Mr. Barnes I'll be right outside to see you out.”

Your turning in your chair slightly, your skirt going up with it giving Bucky a splendid view of those wonderous thighs of yours, if only they were spread for him like they had been last night. “Thank you, Steve,” your voice sings to him pulling him from the dirtier parts of his mind.

“get your head out of the gutter,” he murmurs to himself under his breath.

“excuse me?” you questioned brows furrowed in confusion.

His eyes widen, “no. No, not you,” he chuckles awkwardly just talking to myself. Smooth Barnes, smooth.

“So,” he clears his throat, “where were we?”

“You asked what I do on the side, and I was curious to what you meant by that question,”

“uh what I meant was do you do anything on the side other than being a publicist to someone in person, do you write on a blog, post photos, make videos?”

“Oh,” and there’s a blush flushing your cheeks at the last question, “well yes, when I'm not with my client in person I usually make content online, mainly videos.”

Oh I know.

Your brows furrow in confusion, “you know,” you questioned, “did Steve show you my work?”

Oh you’ve done it now Barnes, “Uh yes actually, you see, Steve has been trying his hardest to get me a publicist, and well I personally think I don’t need one, and in order to really show me you are the one,” which you are he thought, “he decided to present me some of your work.”

A smile took over your face, “that's great did you have any favorites?”

Yeah, the one where your legs are spread wide for him, pussy dripping on the sheets below you, breathy moans of his name spilling from your lips, those are by far his favorites.

“I can’t think of one off the top of my head, and I apologize immensely for that I had a rather long night last night.”

You’re offering him a small smile, “that’s no worries had quite the night myself, one of my favorite clients had me up late.” you chuckled softly, the sound going straight to his heart.

Oh you little minx.

You were on your knees, legs slightly spread as you looked up into the camera, a groan left Bucky’s lips, hand traveling down his body to ease some of the ache on his cock.

“What do you want your best girl to do daddy?” you purred eyes looked on the camera, it's as if you were staring into his soul, except you couldn’t see him. His fingers hover over the keys of his surface pro, fingers clacking at the words he wishes he could tell you in person.

“pet those breasts for me baby, pretend I'm there, right behind you, whispering every dirty thing you want me to do to you.”

Vixen grins pressing up towards the camera hands wandering up her body from her hips, Bucky watches her hands grasp at her chest breathy little moans spilling from her lips as she plays with her breasts for him.

“god baby look at you, love hearing those breathy moans you let out for daddy, if only you could see how riled up you get me.” Bucky typed one handed, the other hand working his cock through his boxers.

A smirk splits your lips, your hands sliding down your body, back arching as you descend down, “you like hearing what you do to me daddy?” she murmured, “do you want to see what you do to me, how wet you get me?” god damn Bucky grunted, hands pulling his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

A moan is falling from her lips as vixen pulls her panties to her side, fingers dipping into her folds. A low moan spills from Bucky’s lips, god what he would give to be there between her legs, tongue dipping into her folds.

“look at how wet you are baby, you going to put a show on for daddy, touch that pretty little pussy for me?”

A moan leaves her lips, finger circling over her clit, “Gonna be a real good girl for you daddy, gonna get real wet for you.” she purred tongue running over her lower lip before sucking it between her teeth.

A growl leaves Bucky's lips as he tries to find the best position to be able to type and stoke his cock to the sight of her. He watches as her fingers descend down, two fingers sliding easily into her wet slick heat. A throaty moan falls from her lips as she falls forward hand bracing against the silk sheet she rests on. Bucky watches entranced as she fucks herself with fervor, grinding down on her own hand.

Fuck vixen was going to be the death of him.

Having found a good position Bucky tightened his hand around his thick length, hand picking up a quick rhthym, he swear he could come like this. Watching vixen fuck herself on her fingers, intoxicatingly sweet breathy moans spilling from your lips.

“Fuck daddy, I want your cock in my mouth so bad,”

Bucky chokes on a breath, fingers struggling to hover over the keyboard, “I want to get my mouth on you, suck you real good daddy, drool all over your cock like a good girl.”

“Fucking hell sweetheart, the mouth on you, you going to be my best girl? Swallow all of me,”

“god yes daddy please let me be your best girl”

“gonna gag on daddy’s dick, let daddy fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, swallow every inch I give you.”

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from vixen as her moans grew louder, she was close, he had been on her page long enough to know what she looked like when she came, and god was he right there with her.

“Your close aren’t you pretty girl, you going to cum for daddy, cum all over those pretty fingers for me.”

The throaty groan that spills from her lips is enough to send Bucky over the edge. A loud grunt falls from Bucky’s lips, his cum painting his stomach, his mind goes slightly fuzzy but he can still her vixen working herself her breathy moans almost have him wanting to go one more time.

“Come on sweetheart, let daddy see it, cum for daddy, be daddy's good girl.”

He watches her eyes slip shut, mouth falling open as a loud moan falls from her lips, “Fuck!” she squeals, thighs trembling under her, her body twitching as her orgasm took over her.”

Fuck she was a goddamn sight.

“So, this client,” bucky starts pulling himself from that dirty part of his mind, “is he another one you publicize for,” he questioned, and really, he’s only asking because he wants to know if he’s your favorite client.

“I make videos for him,” Bucky raises a brow at your statement, a smirk tugging at the side of his lips, “and what is it that you would be doing for me,” and there's a teasing tone to his voice.

Bucky catches when you cross your legs, thighs squeezing together, oh you dirty girl, “well sir, I would do whatever it is you need from me,” and what he really needs right now is to take you over this damn desk.

“Well Steve did say you were one of the best, and from what I've seen your work is spectacular sweetheart,” and he can’t help but to throw that name out there, because he’s seen how reactive you can be when he types out his favorite pet names for you.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, I enjoy what I do,” oh he’s sure you do, he’s real sure of it.

Bucky runs a finger through his scruff, “well y/n as much as I'm against needing a publicist, your work has caught my eye,” and really aside from your online content - your secret life, Steve had provided him your resume which was superb. “If you’re up for the challenge and think you can handle a man such as myself, well then the job is yours.”

A grin splits your lips, “I have no doubts I can handle a man such as yourself Mr. Barnes, I’m always up for a challenge.” you wink.

His cock twitches in his slacks, “I like you already y/f/n. Y/l/n, welcome to the team,” he adds extending his arm out to you.

“It's going to be a pleasure to work by your side sir, I promise not to disappoint.” you grin as you shake his hand, pushing up to your feet.

He stands with you, readjusting himself in his slacks as he follows you to the door. “I’ll have Steve give you a call later on this evening to go over your schedule which will basically be mine, I'll also have him give you my number in case you have any questions for me.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity Mr. Barnes, I'll see you soon.” you grin giving him one final handshake before your gliding out his office doors.

Its 30 minutes later when Bucky is lounging on the couch in his office that Steve is bursting in, a toothy grin on his face, “So proud of you Buck,” Bucky raises a brow at him.

“I know how much you were against a publicist, but the fact that you actually went over her worked and even looked up some of her videos, thank you for giving this a shot, she’s a great gal, and an even better publicist for her clients, you just watch, she’s going to change your life.”

You already had, he thought.

Days at the office were always long and boring, but it seemed today was dragging much slower than usual, the hours ticked by much too slow for Bucky’s liking, and all that had been on his mind the remainder of the day was getting home and taking care of the problem you had caused him, he would make sure you, or rather ‘vixen’ helped him through said problem and it was making him rather anxious. He needed to get home.

As soon as the clock had stuck six Bucky was out the office doors, all the cubicles on his floor already empty as he let all his employees leave at most and hour before he did. Bucky couldn’t thank the heavens enough, when the walk to his car, and the ride home went uninterrupted, somebody was hearing his prayers. And he hoped to be hearings yours soon.

With the keys in the door, Bucky unlocked the door to his home fairly quickly. Dinner could wait he thought as he made a beeline to his bedroom, the ache in his slacks could not. He wastes no time in ridding himself of his work clothes, settling himself against the headboard as he reaches for his surface pro.

Bucky makes quick work of signing into the device the site already open for him, a message sit’s in his inbox, “come play with me daddy, your best girl is feeling a little frisky today,” a grin pulls at his lips, he wonders why.

He moves the mouse around accepting the private invite, he has accepted many times since joining Xmodels.

His screen darkened slightly as the page loaded, a video box appearing in the middle of his screen, you popped up seconds later.

He sucked in a breath, maroon lace covered your most intimate parts, a black silk sheet laid out under you, “well you at you pretty girl, all dolled up for me, what's the occasion usually I'm the one requesting a private?”

A smirk pulls at your lower lip, your teeth sucking on your lower lip, “well if you must know today’s been a rather exciting day, and there’s nobody else I would rather celebrate than with my favorite customer, you spoil me.”

“Is that so sweetheart,” he watches your thighs do the same thing they had when he called you that pet name in his office. “Do I really spoil my best girl, you want to tell me how I spoil you?”

Your hands roam over your body, “let’s start with the amount of money, you spend on me.” You grin hands groping at your chest.

“Oh you little minx,” he’s typing with one hand again, other hand already gripping himself through his boxers

“Is that all, or are you going to tell me more?”

“You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

He swears it’s like your looking at him, and if he could close his eyes picture you as you are you would be in front of him.

“And what do I do to you baby, you going to show daddy what he does to you, going to tell me how sweet you are on me.”

A smirk pulls at your lips, “you’d like that wouldn’t you daddy like for me to be sweet on you?”

“Oh sugar you have no idea, but enough about that, why don’t we get things moving and you show daddy exactly what he does to you.”

You don’t waste another second as your hand skim your body, fingers going to your most needy area. Your not touching, your teasing, not only yourself but Bucky, and Bucky has been hard since you walked into his office, he refuses to wait another second.

“Touch yourself sweetheart, daddy wants to see that pretty pussy.”

Just like the other night, you slid your fingers through your soaked folds, fingers glistening with your slick, “fuck princess, you are gorgeous, just want to run my lips all over that body of yours, you’d like that wouldn’t you baby, like to have my mouth on you.”

Two fingers slip into you, “fuck daddy, I need it, need you, need you to fill me up, I bet you’d fill me up so good.”

And fuck would he, he’s transfixed by you his dick twitching in his hold, pre-cum gathering at the tip.

A needy whine leaves your lips, “it’s not enough, fuck I want to be filled with you.”

“Jesus baby doll, the fucking mouth on you, why don’t you bring out one of your favorite toys.”

Your shaking your head fingers still working, your back falling to the sheets as you spread yourself out, and god if it doesn’t make Bucky harder, he feels he isn’t stroking fast enough.

“Fuck daddy you have no idea how badly I want you here with me, your mouth all over me, your cock fucking into me.”

Fuck he’s not going to last.

“I don’t think you’d be able to take me, need to stretch you out, get you ready for me baby, just like you’re doing.”

“Am I doing a good job daddy getting myself ready for you, am I being your best girl?”

Oh fuck you were, his perfect, perfect girl.

“Touch your clit, baby pretend it’s my fingers rubbing you, need to see you cum.”

Bucky’s hand moves quicker, matching the speed at which your other hand swirled over your clit. The sight of you a writhing, moaning, mess is enough to throw him over the edge, abdominal muscles contracting as he falls over the edge, a low groan spilling from his lips as his cum spurts from his cock his eyes slip shut at the pleasure coursing through him. A cry from his laptop has his eyes snapping open, your fingers stilling, thighs trembling as your orgasm takes over you.

Bucky watches you come down from your high. There’s a longing in his chest, he had watched your for so long on this website, that he couldn’t help but to have fallen for you, when you started accepting his private sessions more and more, and now that you’re actually going to work with him, be under him.

His breath catches in his throat as he watches you.

He was screwed.

Part 3

WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes

Strictly Confidential Tag-list: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @lady-pswrld @connie326 @lookiamtrying @depproselily @mollygetssherlockcoffee @jaywolf840 @calwitch @genlovesdcb @xoasalxo @jbarness

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #ceo!bucky x reader #ceo!bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfiction au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfic au #marvel fanfiction

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sickcyclist · 3 years

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This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

#lupus #chronic illness #hypermobility #connective tissue disease #exercise hypoxemia #progesterone hypersensitivity #health care efficiency #health insurance navigation #immunocompromised #biking with oxygen #care coorination

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kyemeruthie · 3 years

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Jose Mari Chan is waving

We're almost at the tail end of 2021, which means early Christmas paandar here in the Philippines. Were the pandemic not an issue, EDSA would have been teeming with cars and pollution (not that it is now) because of the whole stretch of malls on sale. Something I'm slightly thankful for right now. Less noise, sure. But of course, we have the stealthy virus in our midst, so the silence is not at all reassuring.

***

We always talk about "good vibes" after every Sunday School. Usually, we exchange barbs and several recommendations for food or movies to try. We found it a habit to share the latest Foodpanda or Grabfood deals, the playlists we did, or the memes that made us laugh hard. It's a good practice really. It takes some of the load off the daily grind.

Two lessons were reiterated because of this good habit. One, we should always count our blessings. There's nothing more beautiful about being grateful for both the small and big stuff God gives us every moment of our waking life. It helps us appreciate the privilege we have and how we can use that advantage to help others who have lesser in life find relief. It is all the more important now that we continue to be experiencing this pandemic plus the inept government we have here. I cannot help but sometimes brush off the bad news just so there's less to worry about. But that again is a privilege afforded to me, something a lot of working class Filipino households do not have.

But second, we also have to see that sometimes there are no good vibes to think about. It veers us away from toxic positivity and it also shifts the focus of our faith from something that is transactional to something that is more hopeful and eternal. There definitely are good days ahead, but equally so or more often, bad days are upon us. If life were all good, we should be in heaven or we'd be floating heathens in nirvana. But life is both good and bad, rocky and smooth, and unfair. It humbles us to see the beauty in whatever circumstance we are in but it also puts in perspective the thoughts that are endlessly running through our minds. It grounds us to reality and makes us more human. And it should push us to do good to others and to always strive better.

***

By striving to be better, it does not mean we should be "productive" all the time. And by productive here we denote the capitalist view of efficiency and labor outputs. I am quite happy that we are gradually veering away from the view that everything is urgent and should be given attention. We can always choose-- a fundamental principle in economics-- and our choices have tradeoffs. But while we know this at the back of our minds, the pressure from society to always perform nags at us. Me oftentimes.

Or maybe because this is me coping too. I have a journal where every month I list down all the things I need to accomplish and every week I identify my priorities. There are weeks that are overwhelming and there are those that are free flowing. I complain during hectic weeks, especially if the tasks fall on weekends. I consider weekends sacred. And then I find myself wanting when the days are lean and slow. I cope by trying to find something "productive" to do. Before, I take on different side jobs and I am happy now that I have learned to say no even if the jobs have good pay. Hehe. Less of a slave to the capitalist system.

I still need to occupy my time blocks though. Reading is the best. But recently, I have taken to watching TV shows. I'm trying to rein these in just so I won't have a lot of screen time. Also, my eyes are suffering the brunt of this split screen life. I changed my lens to something that would block off more blue light.

This week, I managed to sleep by 9pm, which is way too good. Maybe the assignments and projects have yet to take its toll. I'm owning the weekends too, for the past two weeks. Again, good. And back to my daily habit of walking around the neighborhood. I will try to include 20-30 minute body stretches and a bit of workout during the morning. Hopefully, it works once the school stuff becomes busier.

***

The slumps I experienced last time, I reckon was me running on low battery. The sem was really tough. We had four-five subjects over the course of 10 weeks, at least 2-3 assignments per week, and then me internally panicking because of my financial dues. The delayed allowances finally took its toll for the past two months because by June the savings I had are close to the red mark. I still have some money left but I don't want to overuse it and be left without a fallback. I guess that's why I'm stressing. And then of course being unable to walk around and being stuck at home all the time because of the lockdown restrictions can rear its ugly head at one point.

Lacking on the prayer department can also make us weak. Me really. I'm doing morning devotions but most often, I do the "basic" prayer. Like thank you Lord for today, sorry for everything, guide me today, thanks, Amen. Something like that. Which is meh. I'm trying to get back, I hope to get back on track.

***

Cooking is also helping me cope. Knife slapping on the cutting board, doing that nice julienne, and stir frying stuff give me joy. Also, plating. Hahaha!

My biggest critics are my siblings. They are having fun trolling the dishes I serve. Good-natured fun. Me scoring foodie points recently against them are good vibes too.

***

I'm not sure if we can still fly to Aus. I hope for a miracle. Yes or no, I am grateful for the opportunity to study for free at a prestigious university. Also, the study leave is a wonderful time to recalibrate my priorities and make me think really hard about my commitments.

***

Can we not have Christmas songs this early, though?

#jose mari chan #christmas in september #life updates

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ahgasescenarios · 4 years

Text

Corrupting the Innocent Pt. 4- Dong Sicheng

Word count: 1.8k

Genre: angst

Plot summary: In which (Y/N) decides to “help” innocent exchange student Sicheng win over his crush. Except she has ulterior motives and Sicheng is too clueless to notice.

If Sicheng was the first guy you had taken such a strong interest in, he was also the only one capable of making your stomach churn as it had after Rosé’s update on their date. You weren’t accustomed to guilt, but it was now marking its territory, making itself known to you. And you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last you’d see of the emotion. Sicheng had been MIA after the date, you hadn’t heard as much as a peep from him since.

When you woke that morning, you pushed the covers back over your head and delayed reality for just a little while longer. You half-heartedly made your way to your solace, coffee. Your measured cup of comfort was gone before you knew it, warming up your insides on this cold, rainy day. You looked outside, a distant look about you. If someone were to look, they might say there was a tinge of nostalgia to your features. But nobody was looking.

It wasn’t the best day to be running errands, but here you were debating between two flavors of ramen noodles. After deliberation, kimchi was declared victorious and with a grocery bag full of goods, you walked back to your dorm, whistling absentmindedly.

“(Y/N).” You looked up at the call of your name, the sight of Sicheng baffling you. He looked different. More serious, if that was possible. His lips were pursed sternly as though he was a parent on the verge of grounding his child. His attire made him look a few years older than he was.

“Sicheng.” Was all you could muster up. He gestured for you to talk inside and you complied. Only when he was seated comfortably on your couch did he speak up.

“Sorry I haven’t been in touch; I needed some time to think.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, putting away your groceries in the next room.

“Yeah, I just had some things I needed to deal with on my own.” He smiled. Not so genuinely.

“Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do.” And surprisingly enough, you meant it.

“Thanks. Hey, are you doing anything today?” He pondered.

“Not really. You?”

“Would you want to grab lunch with me?” You quirked an eyebrow but accepted the offer.

Once you had changed into nicer clothes, you let him guide the way to his favorite Chinese restaurant. He was glowing when you stepped inside like he was exactly where he was supposed to be at that moment. The smile Sicheng bore from ear to ear was telling enough as he ordered for the both of you in fluent Chinese. Not once did he indulge in small talk, Sicheng was one of the few people who asked questions and cared to hear the answer. And because you were in a good mood that day, you let yourself reveal more than you were usually comfortable sharing. The conversation had somehow floated back to your family history.

“Is that why you have trouble letting people in?” You were taken aback.

“I guess it is, I haven’t had great experiences with people so I tend to keep my guards up.” You forced a smile and he got the hint, moving on to a different subject.

The following weeks were spent mostly in the presence of Sicheng, venturing to different restaurants and locations to spend time together. You were comfortable around him and that was saying a lot for you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to understand without you having to utter a word, or maybe it was how getting to know him had unlocked an entirely different side of him that kept you wanting to know more. Whichever it was, your original plan had slowly faded into memory. The lessons had been put on hold indefinitely and when you pondered about his crush on Rosé, the most you got out of him was a shrug. It was a thing of the past, then.

Today’s “friend date” had taken the form of McDonald’s, a much-needed escape from the confines of your apartment. You felt so cooped up in there, a big, juicy BigMac was perhaps the only way to get you in a better mood. But you could tell something was off with Sicheng today, he seemed distant- almost as though he was keeping something from you. He walked you home uncharacteristically silent and you drifted into your thoughts, wondering what could be on your friend’s mind.

You were already inside, waiting to bid him goodbye when something came over him- maybe this was what he had been holding back before. His feet acted before his mind could protest, he grabbed your face between his hands and crashed his lips on yours. You reciprocated the kiss; you had taught him well. You thread your fingers in his hair, pulling only to deepen the kiss. His hands found your waist again and he pulled you towards him so your bodies were flush against each other.

“What did you do that for?”

“I wanted to.” He stated matter-of-factly. “You know, to practice.” He blurted out, but you didn’t buy it one bit. “Well, if it’s in the name of practice, I have another lesson for you.” You toyed with him, gauging how far he’d take this.

“Sit on the couch.”

He did, like an obedient puppy.

“Now that you’ve mastered kissing, I think it’s time you master making out, yeah?” He gulped as you made your way over to him.

“Yeah.” Was all the confirmation you needed before you straddled his waist, moving your hair to one side tantalizingly slow so he was watching your every move.

“Now, what you’ll want to do is either A) rest your hands here,” you moved his hands to your waist, “or B) here,” you moved his hands lower so they were a squeeze away from grabbing your ass. His eyes widened. You smirked back up at him as you got settled in his lap. His hands rested where you had left them, showing no signs of budging. B it was.

“And when you’re making out, there’s going to be more tongue, still good?” He nodded vehemently. Gee, someone was eager. And it wasn’t you, how the tables had turned.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, lips colliding in a heated kiss. You played with his hair while he didn’t shy away from grabbing your ass like you had instructed him to. He was even guiding your hips, so you were grinding him. You made out until you felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen and your lips were swollen in the most delicious way which was when you deemed it long enough to conclude the “lesson”.

“How was that?” You inquired.

“Good, yeah.” He seemed slightly uncomfortable and as you shifted in his lap, you could feel why that was.

“Oh.” You smirked at him and he blushed a deep crimson, the memory of how shy he originally was resurfacing. You stood up and within the blink of an eye, a pillow was hiding his prominent arousal.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower if you want anything make yourself at home.”

You need space after that stunt, and you figured a shower would make for a good enough excuse. You had envisioned that making out with Sicheng would feel good, but butterfly-flutteringly good? You hadn’t seen that one coming. But the way he had been kissing you, so genuinely told a different story. And you had never felt more desired than when his instincts took over and started guiding your hips to his growing bulge, desperate for more. Lust at its finest. It had your mind going to filthy places and your self-control faltering. As these new feelings of lust and love intertwined with each other in your brain, you scrubbed any physical evidence off of yourself.

Sicheng was still frozen in the living room, finally getting up once his situation was taken care of. He felt the need for a pick-me-up and his trained eyes spotted your coffee machine from a mile away, that would do. He sang tunes to himself as he gave the machine something to do, brought out from his reverie by what he thought was someone texting him. He checked his phone, nothing. He skimmed the rest of the kitchen, eyes landing on your phone. He walked over, meaning to tell you who had left you a message until his eyes landed on your phone, more precisely on the words displayed across the screen.

Rosé: How’s it going with Sicheng? Gotten him in bed yet? 😉

His eyes must’ve been deceiving him, you wouldn’t do that to him. He blinked a million times in a desperate attempt to convince himself that he hadn’t read that right. But it was becoming convincingly harder to deny what was right in front of him. You picked just this moment to walk back in. The look on Sicheng’s face alone was enough for you to know something was wrong, very wrong.

“What the hell is this, (Y/N)?” He shoved your phone in your face accusingly and as you read your screen, your heart dropped.

“Sicheng, I can explain.”

“How the fuck could you possibly explain that?”

This was bad, really bad. You knew Sicheng didn’t get angry easily, but here he was smoke coming out of his ears and it was all your fault. Your phone was still in his hand and when you fell silent, he scrolled up. His eyes skimmed over your prior conversation with Rosé, it did nothing to calm his overflowing anger. You stood there with your head down, you should’ve known he was going to find out. Naively, you had hoped you’d be the one to tell them when the time was “right”.

“A game? Is that all I am to you?” He breathed through gritted teeth. “Even now? Jesus (Y/N), how could you?” The look of disdain that was directed at you made you feel worse about yourself than you ever had.

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You’re sorry! Yeah, ‘cause that’ll fix everything. How could you do this? I thought we were friends, at the very least. But this- you’re something else (Y/N).”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I’d catch feelings for-“

“Oh, cut the bullshit. You knew damn right what you were doing and you’re only apologizing now because I found out.” He shook his head at you. “You disgust me.”

And with those last words echoing in your mind as though they were the only words to exist, he stormed out. It took a while for you to move out of the spot he had left you in. Your heart felt like it had been shattered by a hammer and only then did you allow yourself to admit that somewhere along the line, you had felt more than just lust towards Sicheng. But it was too late to think about that now because you had just ruined everything.

___________________________________________________

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

a/n: it’s ya girl again back at it with another part to this story! thank u to everyone supporting this story, it means the world to me that you guys enjoy the work of my imagination:) I’m ngl it feels really good to write again and I’m rlly glad to have a platform for ppl to read if they want u know. Okay im rambling thanks for reading ily, be well xx

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daemongal · 5 years

Note

ohhhuhh do you think you can do something nsfw with credo? like he has you on his lap while he’s at work and doing paperwork while you grind against his leg maybe? thank u ily

Hello friend!

Sorry this has taken me a while to get to but thank you for the ask because it was quite fun writing Credo for the first time and I know there isn’t masses of content out there for him. It’s only short but I hope it satiates your thirst, just a little at least!

Expected warnings for smut and a little hair pulling but that’s all. Enjoy!

******

You stood outside his closed office door twiddling your thumbs. He had explicitly told you not to pester him while he was working, and under normal circumstances, you were happy to abide by the simple rule. Credo’s work was his priority; his role in the order was pivotal and his work was of great importance.

However, he hadn’t been home in three days and, quite frankly, you were worried about him. Was he eating enough? Had he been sleeping? Was he… missing you at all? He’d never spent longer than a night away from home and the lack of his presence was starting to take its toll on you.

You had planned to come here and persuade him to return home, using any and all underhanded tactics at your disposal. But as much as the thought made your heart race in anticipation, you just couldn’t bring yourself to reach for the handle. What importance did you really hold in comparison to the work given to the supreme general by his Holiness? Another night alone in your bed really should be compensation enough for everything the order does.

You clicked your tongue, annoyed with yourself that you had even considered disturbing him, turning on your heels to walk away.

“Do you plan on opening the door or just staring at it for the rest of the night?” Your heart skipped in your chest at his muffled voice; of course, he could sense you by the door. You slowly allowed your shoulders to drop and let out a deep breath, turning back towards the door.

You placed both hands against it, pushing with most of your strength as it slowly creaked open. You couldn’t help the smile from forming on your lips as your eyes met his form, seated at his desk surrounded by piles of papers.

He looked pristine; uniform gleaming, hair brushed back neatly and posture straight and proud. Not the look of a man who had been working 3 days straight, that much was for sure. You let the door fall shut, waiting for his acknowledgement as his eyes never lifted from his papers.

“I should be able to return home by tomorrow eve at the rate I’m working now.” You knew his words were meant to offer comfort, that he would be returning soon, but you missed him now. You longed to be held by him, to feel his warmth against you both affectionately, and intimately.

Your feet were glued to the spot, hands pressed together as if waiting for permission. You knew it was an important rule, but he also wasn’t unreasonable, and you knew deep down that he missed you too. Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes raised and met with yours.

“If I am to deal with any undue distractions, I may be delayed in my return. I only ask that you… take this into consideration.” An invitation. Credo had always preferred to be indirect with his insinuations, rather than straight forward. You swallowed, clearing the lump in your throat, as you took your first tentative step forwards.

His eyes returned to his papers causing a smirk to tug at the corner of your lips in anticipation, your steps becoming more confident as you approached his desk.

“I suppose that’s a fair price to pay considering how much I’ve missed you. It isn’t the same without you at home.” You ran your fingers along the edge of his desk as you made your way to his side. His posture didn’t shift and his attention didn’t waver; he was playing hard to get.

You approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tightly, taking care not to obstruct his movement. You pressed your lips to his jawline, tracing soft kisses down his neck, smiling against his skin as you feel his muscles twitch ever so slightly.

You run your hands slowly down his sides and over his thighs, gripping against his flesh before teasing along the insides, stopping just short of his crotch. You notice the movement of his pen slow as you brave a further step.

You move yourself around to his side to see that he has moved back from his desk, giving you room to squeeze in. Your lips twist into a slight smirk as you step over his leg and position yourself to straddle his thigh. His eyes never move as you wrap your arms over his broad shoulders and rest your face in the crook of his neck.

After a moment of hesitation, you begin to grind yourself shamelessly against his leg, breathing heavily against his skin. You felt his leg tense beneath you as you pressed yourself against it harder, rocking your hips at a steady rhythm, lifting your chin up to moan into his ear as the pressure against your clothed clit caused heat to start pooling between your legs.

“Credo,” you breathed his name heavily, as you pressed your knee up against his quickly hardening length, “why don’t you take a break?” You moaned as you felt his clothed cock twitch against your leg. You ran your tongue up the shell of his ear as you heard his pen drop to the table, his arms moving as if to quickly rearrange his papers.

A hand came up to run through your hair at the back of your head before tugging, pulling your head back to meet his gaze. His other hand gripped your hips, stilling your movement causing a devilish smile to spread up your open lips. His pupils were dilated and his gaze was heavy as he held you there for a moment, before pulling you against his lips.

The kiss was rushed and full of lust, teeth and tongues colliding in a frenzy before he pulled you back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths.

“You’re lucky I let you get away with this, my pet.” He lifted himself from the chair, taking you with him as he spun your body until you were face down and bent over his desk. You heard the sound of belt buckles being unclasped and material being shifted. You felt your skirt be lifted and a finger brush against you as your panties were pulled aside. You felt his breath against your ear again as he brushed the head of his cock against your folds.

“It’s a good thing you know just how to push my buttons.” To punctuate his last word, he pushed his hips forwards, your hands gripping for purchase against the desk as he seated himself in you in one thrust, stretching you around his twitching cock. You let out a sinful moan as he began to move, pushing you into the desk with each harsh thrust, rolling his hips into you harshly.

Your body was aching for it, unable to hold back the noises building in your chest as he pounded into you again and again. You gasped as something was pressed against your lips, opening your mouth instinctively as something soft was pushed past your lips. You caught a glance of Credo’s gloveless fingers and realised what was he'd done.

“I’d rather the entire office didn’t hear our activities.” He stopped momentarily to reposition himself, leaning against the desk and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“Although,” Credo started, resuming the movement of his hips, pulling you backwards in time with each thrust as you bit around the glove muffling your voice, “I have only myself to blame, and I expect no different from you, my little harlot.” Your walls clenched around him at his words, gripping tightly to the edge of the desk as he repeatedly drives into you, your body shaking with each thrust as his hips slap against you.

He angled his hips ever so slightly higher and you started to mutter muffled curses as he pressed into your sweet spot and pushed your lower half into the desk, applying pressure to your clit. His pace increased as he chased you both desperately to your peaks, breaths hitching against each powerful thrust as he pulls you against his chest.

With a few precisely angled thrusts, your whole body tensed as you came hard around his cock, shoving your head against the desk and tensing your jaw so tight it ached as your body spasmed at your much needed release.

Credo’s hips jerked out of rhythm as he buried his face against your back, muffling his own groan as his come shoots against your walls, finishing with a few final deep thrusts. You slumped against the desk as he pulled himself back, opening a drawer to grab some tissues before withdrawing from you, leaving you feeling empty but satisfied.

He pulls your panties back over to cover you and lets your skirt fall back down your legs, cleaning himself up before tucking himself back in his trousers and taking his seat again. You slowly stand up, steadying yourself on your still shaky legs, shuddering at the feeling of his cum slowly trickling out onto your panties.

You placed the damp glove carefully on the desk before turning to leave gingerly. After one step, he grabbed you by the wrist, taking you by surprise and tugging you down towards him, catching your lips in a heated kiss. You blinked in surprise as he broke the kiss, his expression somewhat softer than you imagined it would be.

“I’ll make every effort to be home by morning to greet you when you wake.” You smiled softly in return, running your hand over his cheek.

"Take all the time you need. Sorry for interrupting you but… I hope the distraction was worth it." He reached to pick his pen up and place the papers back in front of him.

"Your distraction, admittedly, was a pleasant one but now, I must return to my work. I hope you will rest well even in my absence.” You place a gentle kiss on the top of his head before turning to leave.

“I will now.”

#dmc #devil may cry #credo #credo x reader #fanfic #ask #anon #lemon #spicy #hope this came out ok ^^#kinda guessed a little on his character since he doesn't have much game time but shhh it's a secret

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aire101 · 4 years

Text

Ferrum Chapter 4

Hey y'all, got this chapter out a bit sooner than the last one!

For those who read the light novels of SAO this chapter will be kinda familiar, for those who have only watched the anime, this is the town where Kirito ran to after leaving Klein in Episode 1, and the quest where he got his Anneal Blade we see in the series.

Also, while I make no promises that it will make it into the story, I am open to suggestions on what kind of adventures or shenanigans you would like to see the boys get up to in SAO. As I've mentioned previously I don't really intend to get the boys mixed up too much in the main canon, so if there's an aspect of the SAO world in general you'd like to see explored outside of the main battles and Kirito's storyline I'm open to considering it. I'm also ok with interactions with known characters, just trying to avoid writing the whole Kirito centric Aincrad arc.

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

Activate-Vertical slash-hold

“Switch!”

1-2

“Switch!”

Defend-rage spike, upward strike—

“SWITCH!”

Peter fell back again, the post motion-delay that set in for a measly few seconds was nevertheless a highly vulnerable moment that he and Mr. Stark had figured out a work around for early on in their trek. The boars from Day 1 had been easy one hit kills, so they hadn’t noticed the system forced post-motion cool down period until they had been fighting on the road the next day. Their tag-team approach served them well, and best that Peter could tell from when they came upon other players in the wild, most of the rest had come to the same conclusion that they had. Because of that, it was unusual these days to find someone soloing in the pvp areas by choice.

Mr. Stark switched in with a strong horizontal slash, bringing the Little Nepenthe's HP down to zero.

“You know, I was never one for plants anyway, but after this quest I swear to god I will never put a single point into the gardening skill,” said Mr. Stark as he sheathed his sword.

“I’ve told you, green stuff is sadness and disappointment solidified,” replied Peter, following suit.

“I still expect you to eat your greens, kid.”

“It’s a tragedy, I tell you. Here we are, trapped in a fantasy game and every meal is still served with vegetables.”

“Yeah, that’s the real tragedy here.”

“I want my money back.”

“You weren’t even the one who bought the game. But either way, I’ll buy you every Playstation, X-Box, and Nintendo game ever in existence when we get back if you just never touch a full dive ever again,” said Mr. Stark, laughing.

And there’s Peter’s daily reminder that he still hadn’t informed Mr. Stark of the horrific truth of his situation.

“I think it’s time to call it a night, Underoos.”

“Is this quest even worth it? We’ve been out here for like three days weeding these things out. The drop rate on this thing is atrocious,” moaned Peter.

“From what our source says, this quest has one of the best weapons you can find on this floor as it’s reward. And while I’ve been funneling as many points as possible into weapon creation, its not quite where it needs to be to match that yet, so better to start with a good blade and just do the enhancement myself. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice that terrible pun, you should be ashamed.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in my pun game.”

Mr. Stark gave a deep sigh/groan before he turned and started walking back towards the direction of Horunka Village. He probably had rolled his eyes too, but it was impossible to tell through the helmet he always wore.

Night had long since fallen over Aincrad, and it had been dark in the forest even before that. Pale blue light slit through the trees overhead, lighting the path, but otherwise they made their way by memory and intuition. A breeze stirred up leaves from the ground, and Peter shivered slightly from the cool night air.

“Do you think its going to snow here in the winter?” asked Peter.

“If we’re all still here in the winter—which all signs point to yes— I think it will. We can see from the thunderstorm last week it has a functioning variable weather simulator. I wasn’t a part of that programing team obviously, so I don’t know for certain just how far that variable goes, but I would think the primary associated weather variations like rain, snow and heat waves will be included. It might also vary by floor. Probably won’t know the answer to that until we get a few floors opened up,” answered Mr. Stark.

“Huh… something to look forward to I guess,” said Peter.

“Why? You don’t get enough snow in Queens?” Mr. Stark said with a joking tone.

“Yeah, but you know in the real world I kinda have to be careful with the cold. My body temperature runs a bit cooler than the average, so unless I’m in the suit I try to keep exposure to a minimum. In here I can probably spend all day in it with out any trouble,” said Peter.

“I didn’t know that, actually,” said Mr. Stark, this time far more seriously. “You haven’t mentioned it, and I hadn’t thought about that at all.”

“Oh. Well, that built in heater and temperature regulator in the suit pretty much took care of the problem. It’s just something I have to keep in mind,” said Peter, awkwardly trying to cover his slip up. Obviously that had been a conversation they had some time after Mr. Stark’s last memory.

It had been almost two weeks since they had been locked in this game, and Peter was still no where close to figuring out how Mr Stark was even here. And he was equally no where closer to telling Mr. Stark the truth about the events in the real world— Thanos and the Infinity Stones, Mrs. Stark and Morgan, Mr. Stark’s death and Peter’s own—

“Anyway, we should definitely make a day of it once it does. I don’t know about you, but its been years since I built a snowman and I kinda want to change that,” said Peter, quickly diverting his thoughts.

“Sure, might as well. Not like we’re going anywhere fast in here. Though if you start singing Frozen songs I might reconsider.”

“You know, they’ve written out your entire life story in news articles and magazines, but they always leave out how much of a killjoy you are.”

“Whatever, kid. I’m the life of the party.”

“A retirement party, maybe.”

Mr. Stark threw the finger back over his shoulder at Peter and kept walking.

Peter was just just about to follow suit when out of the corner of his eye, the sight of polygons coalescing into a hazy form caught his attention.

It was obviously another Little Nepenthe, but above the typical hellish roots and vines and the bizarre, speckled pitcher plant topped with its gaping fanged mouth, was a large, blood red bloom.

Petter inhaled sharply, the sound causing Mr. Stark to spin around as well.

This was it. This is what they were looking for.

Before the creature could attack and he could second guess himself, Peter drew his sword and leapt in with a swift Horizontal Strike at the plant’s weak spot— the joint between the stalk and the pitcher.

The strike hit true, and before the evil hell plant got even a single chance to spew its corrosive liquids, it dissolved back into broken polygons, leaving behind nothing but the delicate flower holding the Ovule they had searched for.

“Whoa! You actually got one!”

Mr. Stark and Peter both spun around, swords raised. Behind them stood another player no older than Peter, with his arms now raised in a sign of surrender.

“Sorry! I was using my hide skill in here. It doesn’t really work on the Little Nepenthes, but it helps avoid other confrontations,” said the player.

Despite what they said, Peter took a good look around, searching for others. The timing and the seeming lack of a party giving good reason for concern. PKers lurking around valuable drop spots to attack and rob unsuspecting players of their loot wasn’t an uncommon thing in PvP games, and unfortunately not even a full two weeks in, SAO was no exception. In any other game, they may simply be considered griefers. But here, to the best of their knowledge it was nothing short of murder.

“Where’s the rest of your party?” asked Mr. Stark, not lowering his blade.

“Eh, I don’t really have one,” said the guy sheepishly

“Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe,” said Mr. Stark. “Kid, do you see anyone else? Or are they hidden as well?”

“Look, there’s really no one else, its just me. People in here don’t really like my type,” said the guy, with a sad note in his voice.

“Oh…” said Mr. Stark, voice now tinged more compassion than aggression. “You’re a beta tester, aren’t you kid?”

The guy flinched, but nodded. “Please, I promise I’m just doing some light grinding in the area. There’s no one else, and I already have the quest item.”

Mr. Stark didn’t sheath his sword, but he gave a nod and backed away.

“Alright, good luck then,” he said.

The other player nodded in return, turned and walked back into the woods.

“Pocket the ovule quick and keep an eye out. Don’t sheath your sword until we get back into town,” said Mr. Stark before he began running back in the direction of Horunka village.

Peter slipped the item into his inventory and easily kept pace with the other man. After a few minutes of running, Peter finally spoke up, “Do you think he was telling the truth? Pretty surprising he freely admitted to that. For all he knows we could have been Beta Killers.”

“If we had killed someone our player cursors would still be orange. It is unusual though. He must have figured it was worth the risk to try and get us to back off,” said Mr. Stark. “Poor kid, as if being stuck in this game wasn’t bad enough, having to hide a beta status from other players…”

Just as Mr. Stark had expected that first day, it didn’t take long before the terrified and angry masses started looking for someone to blame. And with Kayaba disappearing into the digital ether, apparently the scapegoats they chose were the 700 or so beta testers who had logged in with the rest that day. According to most pub talk, the beta testers had left the rest of the players in the dust of the Town of Beginnings, getting through the most lucrative quests and hunts before most even dared to leave the city. They were condemned as selfish and greedy, and were therefore persona non-gratis in most parties. Even worse were the stories of betas being outright murdered and monster PK’d. Out of the almost 1000 players who were already dead about two weeks in, around 150 had been beta testers. A staggering amount given how few of them there had been. Plenty had undoubtedly met their end due to the game itself, but many had ended up victims of angry mobs.

Peter didn’t understand it. Yeah, the beta testers had more info and experience than the rest, but they had shared much of that info on the internet before the game even began. Then after a few days in game, vendor markets began carrying a free SAO Guide booklet created by someone called ‘The Rat’, who had clearly made and circulated the original file Ned had uploaded to the Nervegear. Almost anything you could want to know was available. It was how they had learned of this quest in the first place.

“Hey Ferrum, why do people have to suck so bad?” asked Peter, mostly rhetorically.

“If I had the answer to that, I wouldn’t have been a weapons manufacturer.”

After a few minutes of running they finally crossed over into the town Safe Zone. Horunka was a small village, with only about ten buildings in all. One of which was the house of the NPC who gave the quest, and their current destination.

As they walked down the road towards the house, several parties milled about, clearly having just returned from their own hunts. A couple eyed the two of them as they walked through.

“Looks like someone finally managed to snag an ovule. Lucky bastards…” someone muttered.

“Who actually wears a helmet in this game?” said another.

“Yikes, imagine being stuck in here with your dad…”

Overhearing that last line caused Peter’s face to flush, which given its digital nature was just plain unfair. Did they have to be that thorough?

No bigger than the town was, they were soon standing in the living area of the house. The lady of the house whom they had met previously still stood stirring a pot of simmering liquid, her expression drawn and tired. The only thing that about her that gave her away as an NPC rather than a player was the exclamation mark hovering above her head in the place of a player cursor, indicating a quest in progress.

“Go on, kid,” said Mr. Stark, staying by the door.

Peter slowly approached. Even knowing that the woman was an NPC, it still felt rude to just barge into the house without invitation. He brought up is inventory and took out the ovule, handing it out to her to take.

Immediately her face brightened, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder just how developed the NPC AIs were. Were they simple rudimentary ones like most games? Or were they more like Mr. Stark’s AIs? Was she aware of what she was?

“Oh, thank you so much, kind swordsman! My daughter has only grown worse since we last spoke, I was beginning to worry she may not make it till your return,” she said, taking the ovule from my hand and adding it to the pot.

I saw my quest log update to the left of my view, but I was distracted by the sound of deep coughs coming from further in the house.

“Here, this blade has been passed down in my family for generations, but I gladly trade it in exchange for your aid saving my child’s life. Take it with my blessing,” said the lady, pulling a blade encased in a worn red sheath from an old trunk. With both hands she extended it out to me to take, a smile still on her lips, tears of gratitude sparkling in her eyes.

“Thank you,” said Peter, perhaps unnecessarily, but old habits die hard.

The lady nodded in response and went back to stirring the pot in the kitchen. The quest was complete.

In the center of his field of vision, Peter received a message declaring as much, along with one noting the EXP points gained.

“Alright, let’s head back to the inn and get some grub and call it a night,” said Mr. Stark, holding the door open for him.

Behind them the lady did not acknowledge them at all, but began carefully ladling the contents of the pot into a cup. Peter wondered if somewhere inside there really was a little NPC girl the lady tended to day in and day out, forever trying to alleviate an illness she was created to suffer through.

As Peter walked through the doorway out into the night, he thought back to Aunt May. Back to when he always seemed to catch whatever bug was going around at the time. She may not be the best cook, but one thing she had down pat was chicken noodle soup. She would stand over a pot in the kitchen just like the NPC had, cooking up a big batch that he could easily heat up through out the day when he felt up to eating. Their finances being what they were, she and Ben could not always get out of work so easily, if at all. They did their best to schedule their work so one could be there with him, but sometimes the overlap just wasn’t quite there. Fortunately, a little old lady all the apartment kids called Nana lived a couple doors down from them and was usually content to be on call for kids who needed it.

He wondered what Aunt May was doing right now. Was she sitting beside his hospital bed, holding his hand, but he couldn’t feel it? Were they literally in the same room with each other, but worlds apart? Would she talk to him like she used to when she thought he was sleeping, hoping against everything that he could somehow hear her? What would she say? They had only just started finding their new normal when this happened…

He looked down at this hands, but all he could feel was the weight of the sword he still held.

Tears came, unbidden and unwanted.

If that bastard was going to lock them in this prison, the least he could have done was not code in visual emotion effects.

“Awww… look at the little boy crying,” mocked one of the players outside the inn as they passed.

“Don’t be an asshole, Derrig. You cried for two days straight when this shit started,” said one of his party members, while slapping the offender on the back of the head.

“You ok, Peter?” asked Mr. Stark quietly. “I would offer to go beat the shit out of that guy, but not sure if its worth a duel.”

“No, don’t do that. I’m alright,” said Peter. “Let’s just get up to the room.”

“You go on up, I’ll order some dinner to be delivered,” said Mr. Stark.

Peter nodded. They pretty much always ate in a room so that Mr. Stark could remove his helmet. Occasionally Peter wished they could eat with the other players, just to visit with someone else for a change. This wasn’t one of those nights.

Once in their room, Peter quickly removed most of his gear, leaving only his breaches and his tunic. The sword he placed on the table.

Apparently the sword was called ‘Anneal Blade.’

Peter fell back into a chair, letting his head roll back, closing his eyes.

In the real world, he would undoubtedly be able to hear every conversation going on in the rooms around them, as well as whatever hubbub was going on in the main room downstairs. But in here there was naught but silence. It had taken him a bit to get used to not hearing literally everything going on around him. He hadn’t realized just how much noise he was used to constantly filtering through in his day to day life until it was completely removed. He had thought he would love not having to deal with his extra sensitive senses, but come to find out it was pretty anxiety inducing to have them taken away, like an extended bout of sensory deprivation.

If only he had never put on that Nervegear. If he had told Ned that maybe they should wait until the next round of production of SAO to get into the game, let them get the bugs worked out.

Except…

The door opened, and in came Mr. Stark and two plates of whatever today’s special was downstairs.

“They were pretty busy down there, so I just brought it up myself. Figured I’d listen in on a pub talk a minute and see if any news has been circulating,” Mr. Stark said, setting down the plates.

“Did you hear anything interesting?” asked Peter.

“Not much. But one group did mention that there were some rumors floating around about a Log-Out point in a forest west of the Town of Beginnings. No one going in has come out alive though, and the Rat has been trying to get word out that the information is false and didn’t come from her,” said Mr. Stark, sitting in the chair opposite.

“Ugh, that sucks,” said Peter. “What’s the point in starting a rumor like that anyway?”

“Some people get their kicks in screwed up ways, kid. It’s as simple as that.”

The lapsed into silence as they ate their meal. But eventually Peter noticed Mr. Stark looking up at him.

“What?” asked Peter.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Peter swallowed and shook his head, “Not much to talk about. Was just thinking about Aunt May.”

Mr. Stark nodded, “I’m not going to say she’s doing fine, because we both know that’s probably a lie. But I will say that she’s a strong woman, and I know as soon as we get out of here she will be right there waiting for you with some awful attempt at baked food and the world’s longest hug.”

Peter gave a laugh as tears began to spring up again.

“You’re definitely right. Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Look kid,” said Mr. Stark with a sigh. “I know you enjoy watching me squirm, but I would really appreciate it if you would switch to just ‘Tony.’ For one thing, there’s millions of Tonys in the world, but with the right info out there the name ‘Mr. Stark’ might become a bit suspicious eventually. We’ve just been calling me by my user name outside of our room, and that’s worked out alright, but eventually you might slip. And given my track record on secret identities, we should probably do everything possible to avoid scrutiny as long as possible.”

“Dude, you never had a secret identity. As soon as Iron Man became a thing you outed yourself on live television,” said Peter with a caustic tone.

“Whatever, my point still stands,” said Mr. Stark, waving off Peter’s remark.

“Does it though?”

“Yes, please, please start calling me Tony.”

“It really bugs you, doesn’t it?” asked Peter with a laugh. “Why?”

Honestly, when he asked he had expected Mr. Stark to blow off the question and change the subject. Because in the real world— back before the Decimation— every time they’d had this conversation and he had asked, that was ultimately what Mr. Stark did.

This time however, a tense silence met his question.

“Growing up, Howard was always ‘Mr. Stark.’”

There was a pause, as if he was unsure whether to continue, or how.

“Pretty much everyone on earth calls me ‘Mr. Stark.’ And that’s who they see— billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, wanna-be hero, narcissist, hedonist. That’s by design. It’s what everyone expected from me—being my father’s son— and I rose to the occasion. There’s only a handful of people who have gotten past ‘Mr. Stark’ and made it to ‘Tony.’ At this point, I’d like to think you’re one of them who has.”

Peter sat in quiet shock. Then slowly his heart filled up to the brim with something warm and sad, until he felt he could have burst.

There were a million things he felt, and only a few he could say. But only one he felt needed to be said right then.

“Ok… Tony. But I don’t want to hear you call yourself a wanna-be hero again. Because you are a hero. To everyone… but especially me.”

Tony didn’t reply for a moment, but eventually settled on a nod.

“Alright, deal,” Tony finally said, turning back to his food.

The got a few more bites in before Tony spoke again.

“I’m thinking of skipping on meals for a while. I’m kinda curious how long it takes to actually start feeling hungry in here.”

Peter looked at him confused, “What do you mean? You haven’t been hungry? Like at all?”

Tony blinked at him, “No, you mean you have?”

“Uh, yeah… several times a day usually.”

“Huh… maybe its because of your real world metabolism bleeding through. But no, haven’t felt it at all yet. Seems like a waste of Cor for me to buy meals if I haven’t actually been hungry,” said Tony, finishing up the last bite of his roast. “Not to say that its a wasted experience. They did a pretty remarkable job on this coding. But it would probably be better to save what money we can for now.”

Peter nodded, turning back to his own plate, but could only bring himself to push the food around a little, his stomach suddenly a bit queasy. Perhaps Tony was right, and it was just because of his RL body needs…

He’d talk to a few other players about their experience. Just to be sure.

“So, ‘Anneal Blade,’ huh?” said Tony, looking over the sword still laying on the table. He brought up its specs to analyze.

“Yeah, not exactly sure what the name is about. I mean, I know about the annealing process in biochemistry. I studied it a bit after the spider bite. But not sure how that would really apply to a sword,” said Peter.

“It was originally a process to remove impurities and harden iron for weapons. That’s where scientists originally pulled the term from that they used for the DNA process,” said Tony offhand, still reading through the sword’s numbers and looking it over in his hands. “The sword is as good as the guide implied. It should definitely hold up for you for a good while. Especially once I can start enhancements on it. Looks like we can attempt up to eight.”

“Does that mean we need to put a blacksmith’s forge on the shortlist?” asked Peter.

“Nah, I still have a few levels before we need to worry about that. Still, like I said, it is probably a good idea to start pinching pennies where we can. Jesus, I haven’t had to save money since that time my old man cut me off for a while back in college. This sucks.”

“Welcome to how the other 99.9% live,” said Peter, not an ounce of sympathy in his voice.

Tony shrugged, “Karma is definitely a bitch.”

“This isn’t karma. You’re just a spoiled brat.”

Tony stuck out his tongue, just like the mature adult he was.

Peter laughed, “Exactly. I’m calling it a night. We good to head out in the morning?”

“Yup, heading west from here to grind a bit on some of the higher level forest mobs. We’ll see where we end up after that.”

Peter nodded. Where ever they went and whatever they faced, they would do it together. They’d make it through this.

Even without his spider powers and Tony’s money, they were still Spider-man and Iron Man. Kayaba couldn’t take that away from them.

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razorblade180 · 5 years

Text

Twin Snowflakes part0: Prologue

[Atlas, ???]

In the colder part of Remnant there are many mysterious places that remain hidden in the snow. Old castles and mansions lost to time because of grimm, bandits, or even family.... A pair of twins, age 15 find themselves in one of those so cold places; both of them calm and armed to the teeth. The air is just as cold inside as it outside. Everything inside ruined and battered by time. The in front takes the lead. He’s a boy with shaggy white hair that goes to his shoulders in the back. Beautiful blue eyes and smile as white as snow itself. The twin in the back is a young lady a few inches shorter than her brother. Despite being twins her hair is a really faded blonde with blue eyes darker than his. A ponytail similar to a former heiress is the style she chooses. Both of them are in snow gear.

Nick:So this is the old Schnee estate? Looks a bit like home.

Summer:Only with more snow. Apparently this was our great grandfather’s first attempt to settle down but he abandoned it. Maybe there was a lot of grimm.

Nick:Or he wanted to be closer to the people. This place is a bit out of the way from everywhere else in Atlas. Just perfect for a final test.

Summer:More like a final resting site. You sure we’re up for this? Mom said we’re not ready for this yet. She didn’t do anything this crazy until she was 18!

Nick:Yeah but even she tells us that we are extremely talented and have the benefits of having more aura thanks to dad.

Summer:I’m pretty sure am Arma Gigas will cut through it just as easily, and there’s supposed to be two in here!

Nick:Yep! *puts hands on his hips* one for you and one for me! We’ll show up at home afterwards a little sweaty and cool summoning under our belt. You know.....whenever we actually manage to do a summoning that is. *nods* I say that’s worth a few scratches.

Summer:*pouting* I already have more than enough of those....

His body flinches at those words. He should’ve picked a better choice of words knowing just had many scars the poor younger twin had. Scars he blames himself for.

Nick:*grabs her shoulder* Hey, if you really want to turn back then we can turn back. Last thing I want to happen is go home alone, or not go home at all. I’ll follow your lead on this one.

Just like Nicholas Schnee to put his sister’s feelings before him. It was a trait he shared not only with the man he was named after, but their father as well. She also knew he wouldn’t have dragged her here if he thought she wasn’t ready for this. What’s the harm of going?

Summer:Sigh, If anything goes bad then please bail out. I’ll give you a holler if anything goes bad.

Nick:Sweet! *starts running off* Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Summer:Wait! Do you even know where you’re- and he’s gone..... *gets a text message* huh?

Nick: “The ballroom, I pay attention when you talk you know.😜 Stay warm okay?”

The moment she read that she was already messing with a fresh pack of hand warmers in her snow jacket. Getting cold is the last thing she wants to happen. An incident here would be rather unfortunate. If all goes well Nick will find is grimm in the ball room while hers would be somewhere upstairs. Abandoned or not, Schnee architecture doesn’t change; it was like home for the most part. Without delay she ran upstairs; no way she’d let Nick have the chance to witness her match.

Nick:*Sprinting* (Kitchen, bedroom, spare office, cellar, garden exit...this really is home huh? Just a few rooms out of place but a ballroom should always be....) *stops in front of grand door* In the center for all to enjoy. Glad to know somethings are timeless; better make sure I’m prepared.

Soon enough he dressed down to black pants, white long sleeve button up, and a icy blue vest. A long sword is placed on his left side with the trademark arc symbol on the guard and chamber to hold a vile of dust in the hilt. A nice blend of old weapon style and modern day technology.

Nick:All right Mort Froide, it’s time to really test your metal... *walks through the door*

•

Summer: *approaching a giant door* The piano room, maybe I should’ve brought my own sheet music. Would’ve been nice if I could sing this grimm to sleep and kill it.

All the heavy snow gear comes of except for the wind breaker/ heat insulated jacket. Underneath is a pale blue turtle neck and wears compression white jeans. Fluffy calf high snow boots help keep her feet warm as she walks into the spacious room. The only thing in there is a smashed piano and an Arma gigas staring at her from behind it as she grips her specialized version of Myertanaster.

Summer:Not a fan of music I take it? What a shame, guess the sound of our blades will have to be your swan song.

Gigas:*picks up its sword and bellows. The eerie sound of wind through its armor fills the room*

Summer:.....Why did I agree to stay? *dashes toward him*

Gigas:*continues screaming as it charges*

In most cases anything learned about a foe in a book will only get you so far. Against an Arma Gigas though, knowing was 80% of the battle. The giant swung his sword to sweep feet but she was already airborne and launching off a glyph into its helmet. Instinctively it reached for her only to stumble to the ground as slammed her foot against it with a gravity glyph. Hit hard and hit fast was the name of the game. Carvings in her blade began to glow white as her finger trailed it. Her training was paying off; a simple bounce of the gravity glyph onto its sword hand and freezing it with a stab.

Summer:(So far so good. It’s huge but it’s fast...Just like mom said. Slow it down and keep moving before it-) *jumps off*

Gigas:*slams his free hand on top of the other one. Freeing it immediately.

Summer:(Ugh that didn’t last long. Maybe I should’ve mastered time dilation before we attempted this.) *spins revolver to fire* You’re not gonna let me get that close again easily are you?

Enraged the Gigas slams his sword creating a wave of slush; another move already predicted. Summer spears her way through with her sword now burning hot. Both her and Weiss’s weapon is basically identical in every way but one. Summer’s has the benefit of holding onto a bit of the last elemental dust used to create unique combinations. With fire know on her blade and ice still lingering in it, she creates a new glyph to form a thick steam and hides. Forcing the grimm to swing blindly.

Summer:*circling around* (Good, it has no idea where I am. Still got a bit of fire dust left so...) *switches to wind*(I got this I got this I got this) *begins to twirl with each step like a dancer*

Rapid swings and the ice cold room quickly elementals the steam but not her attack is set. A circle of glyphs surround the Gigas glowing a mix of green and red. As it tries to move a vortex of flames erupts from the ground, causing it to once again make its ghostly scream.

Summer:*sweating* Phew....that should keep you still for a mo-

80% still leaves 20% of chaos to creep through. That percentage was a giant sword flying out the flames and right at her. Quickly dodging saved her but not the new hole outside that let a rush of cold hair disrupt her hard work. There was no time to get up before a giant hand grabbed her and slammed into the floor. It proceeds to drag her across the floor by her arm fast; hitting anything and everything.

Summer:Agh! (I got to confident...he’s gonna grind my into powder at this rate! I gotta think of something! I-) Ahhhh!

Unexpectedly her arm slid out her jacket and sent her crashing into a wall. At least she’s free but now the cold is quickly seeping in...

Awww someone looks cold....

Summer:*stumbling* (I do not have time to deal with this...)

You always have time for me. What’s wrong, out of breath and option? Why are you always so weak?

Summer:(Shut up and let me concentrate!)

Stakes were quickly rising pass the point of no control. Desperately she sprinted for her jacket but was met with sword blocking her way. Her own blade was hastily brought to guard her body as the Gigas sent her into another wall with a punch. Aura might save her one more time but after that there’s no guarantee.

Summer:I’m going nowhere fast. *reaching for her scroll* I’ll keep my distance and wait for Nicholas to-

As usual you need his help. Can you really do nothing on your own? Useless.....

Summer:......(Am...am not....) *shivering*

Denial doesn’t suite you. Accept your place and fade into the background already. The only good thing about you is me...

Summer:......*picked up by the Arma Gigas*

It’s okay sweetie, I won’t let you die though. That doesn’t help me in the slightest. So do us both a favor and just.....

The room begins to freeze over with ice. Summer’s hair goes white and her eyes a faded blue. A chill breath escapes her and freezes the hand trapping her, then it shatters. Ice comes up from the floor to meet her. What once was a room filled with screams is now drowned out by sadistic laughter.

???:FREEZE....

•

Nicholas moves across the ballroom on glyphs like a figure skater. His fight being challenging but not overwhelming. The ballroom is now in shambles as the Arma Gigas runs at him like a deranged man.

Nick:That’s not becoming of a knight now is it? Maybe it’s about time to finally end this; can’t keep Sum- *sees ice creep along the ceiling* Summer? No....that’s too much ice.

Gigas:*swings downward*

Nick:*Blocking* Sorry....can’t spend anymore time on you. Possible family emergency.

The young man slicks his hair back with his free hand before going all out. It would be a bother to mess up because of something like hair. A glyph glows over Mort Froide and onto his hand. Nick jumps back as a solid version of his blade forms out of ice. Regular and ice glyphs form around the room; each ice glyph creating a sword.

Nick:*takes a breath* Iet me show you what happens when an Arc is born with Schnee talents....

He dashes straight for its leg and slashes it, breaking the ice blade. Continuing to slide, he grabs another one and ricochetes back at his target by kicking off another glyph. This assault only gets faster as he keeps speeding towards the calculated glyphs he placed. Each ice sword shattering and quickly replaced by another until all off them are used and the Gigas brought to its knees.

Nick:*winded* twenty eight ice blades...*huff* and one real blade. Personally, I hate odd numbers.

All the ice glyphs merge underneath the Arma Gigas to form one giant to form one big one. The shattered ice swords form a giant one that stabs up right into it; immediately killing the grimm.

Nick:Piece....of......cake. *takes a knee* (I should really come up with a name for that move. Now is not the time for that though. Need to find Summer)

After a minute rest he heads out out the room with his snow gear back on. The only thing keeping him going is concern and the resilient aura he was blessed with. Not as crazy as his dad but it’s given him the second wind he’s needed many times in training. Finding his sister didn’t take as long as he thought; following the cold helped a lot. It led him to a door frozen shut.

Nick:Summer? You in here?*gripping his sword*

???:Don’t ask questions you already know the answers too little knight. Haven’t seen you in awhile. Let’s change that.*shatters the door*

The chill of death surrounds him fast as hand pulls him into the room and pins him to the ground. He takes notices of the Arma gigas slowly dying as it lays on ice spikes. Poor thing never stood a chance. Not against his sister the way she was now. Confident and dangerous to everything around her; including herself. All because of accident years ago by a stupid five year old version of himself that couldn’t keep his cool.

Nick:Summer you-

???:Don’t talk to her, talk to me. Make that mistake again and I might just have to give you a scar that matches dear old mommy as a reminder.

Nick:Shiva.....don’t do this.

Shiva:Do what? Be perfect in every way possible? Not my fault Summer is pathetic. If she doesn’t want me here then maybe she should’ve been strong enough to keep me contain.

Nick:Talk bad about my sister again and I’ll beat you until you’re too weak to keep control.

Shiva:Tough talk for a worm that’s on the ground. Maybe you should learn who you’re dealing with again. *grabs his sword* I’ll make sure not to blind yo- *hands begin to shake*

Nick:Is someone losing control already? Maybe you’re not as in control as you think, or maybe it’s the body heat and hand warmers I stuffed my jacket with.

Shiva:You what!?

His sword falls out of her hands and she tries getting up quickly. Nicholas doesn’t give her the chance and tackles her with his jacket open. Essentially preventing a long fight before it even began as he already feels her getting weak. Summer’s hair and eyes slowly becoming normal again.

Shiva:Damnit, I’ll be more careful next time.... better count your lucky stars.

Nick:There is no next time.

Shiva:Ha....you’ve.....said that.....before....... *exhales*

Nick:Summer? You here or do I have to keep aggressively hugging you?

Summer:*crying and hugging him* I’m here but don’t stop anyways....

Nick:Phew....Hey stop with the water works. I’m fine, we’re fine.

Summer:I....couldn’t keep control.

Nick:Maybe one day, just not today. *gives her his jacket* let’s go home okay? Final exam completed.

Summer:I’m a step behind you as usual it seems. Once again you rescued me.

Nick:That’s what siblings do. Also, there’s no way you’re behind me. *puts her on his back* because I don’t move forward without you. Shiva or not, you’ve gotten your target killed. We’ll just leave how exactly out of the story when we get back. *starts walking*

Summer:......

Nick:......A pair stuck together that on closer inspection is slightly different. Yet also extremely similar. Such a beautiful phenomenon is......

Summer:A twin snowflake. Next time....I’ll be stronger. *hold on tight*

Nick:*smiles* Yeah.....we both will.

#rwby #summer schnee #nicholas schnee #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

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borkingbarnes · 6 years

Text

Cockblocked

Summary: Sam and Nat decide it’d be funny to cockblock the former Winter Soldier after his girl returns from a long mission away.

Word count: 3.5k oops. (Sorry I got a lil carried away, this was just really fun to write tbh 😂)

Warnings: Smut. If you’re under 18, go away.

“Fuck” Bucky groans under his breath as you roll your hips backwards, your ass rubbing against his stiff cock. His arms tighten around your waist as he buries his face into your hair, a needy whimper escaping the back of his throat.

The sinful way you ground your hips against him was driving him wild and what started out as spooning while watching a movie was quickly turning into something else as indicated by the heavy pants coming from the super soldier.

“Baby...” he breathes, one of his hands coming to rest on top of your hip. You stifle a groan, biting your lip as he pulls your hips tightly against him, pressing his cock against the soft flesh of your ass as he ruts into you. The grip you have on the arm still wrapped around you tightens, nails digging into his forearm as he grabs your breast and squeezes.

You had just gotten back from a mission earlier this morning. After a week apart and a few steamy photos sent between the two of you, the distance had definitely taken its toll. Bucky had insisted on some relaxation for you after your shower and you happily complied, your tired muscles seeming to loosen up already as he hugged you into him. However, things began to head a different direction when you accidentally wiggled your butt against Bucky’s crotch whilst reaching for your phone on the table in front of you. The small moan from the supersoldier had shot straight to your core, making you freeze before he pulled you back against him, your breath hitching when he pressed an open mouth kiss to your neck.

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he groans, his grip on your hip tightening as you let out an unsteady breath. Turning your head, you capture his lips with yours, one hand coming to tangle in his hair as you rub your ass onto him once more, a soft moan making its way from your lips.

He turns you to face him, draping one of your legs over his hip, his arms wrapping around you once more. Pressing his lips back onto yours, he swallows your whimper as he rolls his hips into you, his hard cock brushing against your clit just right. A growl rumbles through his chest, the noises coming from you making him even harder as he rolls his hips again, wanting to hear more.

“Bucky…” you begin to say before a loud knocking interrupts you. Steve pokes his head in moments later.

“Guys, Fury wants us in the briefing room right now” the blond says, opening the door further to reveal Nat as well. “Said it’s important and needs us all there immediately.”

A loud groan sounds from beside you, followed by a thump as Bucky’s head drops against the pillows. “That means no delays, Barnes.” Natasha says, knowing smirk playing on her face as she shuts the door.

“Come on, Buck, you heard them, let’s go,” you say, trying to sit up, but Bucky just pulls you tighter against him. You bite your lip to stifle a giggle as the once menacing winter soldier pouts from beside you.

“What am I going to do with this?” He asks, gesturing downwards, and this time you do giggle, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear affectionately. A smile tugs at your lips as he captures your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“We can finish this after, okay, baby?” You coo, going to press a kiss to his cheek. At the last moment, he turns his face, pressing his lips to yours. He nips at your bottom lip, arms tightening around you once again as he tries to deepen the kiss. Pulling back, you chuckle lightly at the super soldier, knowing this was one of his tricks (that worked most of the time).

“We gotta go, baby” you scold him affectionately, reaching back to pull his arm from around you as he lets out a whine. He knew he was being difficult, but when it came to you, he just couldn’t help it.

“Pardon me, Ms. Y/N, Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s automated voice says, interrupting Bucky’s protests, “I apologize for interrupting, but I’m afraid Fury is requesting your presence immediately, and he does not like to wait.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY, tell him we’re on our way” you reply, standing up and pulling the brunet to his feet as well. You suppress the urge to laugh at his pouting expression, his dick still semi-hard as it creates a small tent in his sweats. You don’t fully catch what he grumbles under his breath as you pull him along, but reckon it was something along the lines of Fury being a cockblocking son of a bitch.

“Glad you two could finally join us,” Fury greets irritatedly at the two of you as you walk in. You shoot him an apologetic smile before sitting down in one of the unoccupied chairs, Bucky sitting beside you.

Overall, the meeting was quite uneventful, with Fury briefing the team about some sort of political argument that had occurred because of the Avengers. The team was no longer allowed to go on missions for the remainder of the week until it was resolved. That was fine by you, and you even caught Bucky smirking, his mind no doubt thinking of what he could do with you for an entire week.

“Well, it looks like we’re having a team day then.” Tony says as the briefing comes to an end. “Barbecue and mojitos. Everyone go change and meet at the pool pronto.”

Every nods in agreement, standing up to go change into their bathing suits before Bucky speaks up.

“Well, uh, Y/N and I are gonna spend some—uh, time alone. We’ll meet up later” the super soldier says, rubbing a hand on his neck as he looks at you with a small smirk. The look he shoots Sam next as he speaks, was a full on Winter Soldier death glare.

“Aww, c’mon Barnes. She just got back. We missed her too you know!” Sam says with a smug grin, coming over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, handing coming up to ruffle your hair. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s jaw clenches, at both Sam’s smugness and the fact that he was right. He hated when Sam was right.

“Yeah, Bucky. We miss our favourite girl.” Natasha says, also walking up and putting an arm around your waist. Your eyes narrow suspiciously as you catch Sam and Nat sharing a knowing glance, but can’t help but smile at Bucky’s expression as he scowls.

———

“Hey Buck, help me tie this?” You ask, holding onto the front of your bikini as the strings hang down.

A shiver runs through you as large, calloused hands make their way up your waist, his hot breath settling on your neck with an open mouthed kiss placed there soon after.

The top strings around your neck come undone a few moments later as his hands make their way to rest on top of yours, easing them from their position along with the bikini that you were holding down, letting it fall to the floor.

A small laugh makes its way past your lips at the former winter soldier’s antics, but you humour him, turning around to face him. He’s in his swim shorts, his upper body bare, the outlines of his muscles prominent and protruding and you can’t help but lick your lips as he breathes out.

“Never gonna get tired of these breasts” he murmurs, reaching up to cup the left one with his right hand, kneading gently as his left arm snakes it’s way around you. You lean into him, one hand on his chest, the other above the delicious v-line that adorned the tops of his hips. He looks into your eyes before his gaze drops down to your lips, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his own.

“Y’gonna kiss me, soldier?” You ask him, getting lost in the blue of his eyes as you feel his growing erection on your lower abdomen.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice, his lips coming to meet yours as soon as the words roll off your tongue.

A soft moan leaves his lips as he tastes you, missing your lips far too much during your time apart. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing before reaching the back of your thighs, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms going around his neck.

He walks backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed, sitting down on the edge with you on his lap, still kissing you with fervour.

A groan escapes his throat when you grind your hips down. “You like that, baby?” You whisper, rolling your hips once more. His large hands move to your hips, pulling them down to create more friction as his head lulls back, exposing his neck.

You kiss his pulse point, his groans only spurring you on, sucking a spot that you knew would leave a mark. His grip on your hips tighten as you continue to grind on him, your arousal seeping through your bikini bottoms and onto his swim shorts. He could feel the slickness with each glide of your hips, his breath coming in shallow pants as you continued to nip and suck along his neck.

He was putty when it came to you, your every movement sending more pleasure through him. Each moan and whimper that left your pretty lips sent a new jolt of arousal through his stomach as his eyes screw shut in pleasure. He loved it when you took control like this sometimes, bringing both him and yourself pleasure whilst whispering filthy things in his ear.

His left hand reaches into your bikini bottoms, the coldness of the metal making you hiss as it comes into contact with your clit. A breathy moan leaves you and he begins to rub fast circles on the nub, darkened blue eyes watching you, his jaw hanging slack as you continue to grind into him.

“Fuck, James” you breathe, throwing your head back. His hand picks up its pace, hearing his name rolling off your tongue in such a sinful way driving him crazy. “Want you inside me, baby—fuuck.”

“Yeah, babydoll? Is that what you want?” He grits, jaw clenching, to which you nod your head fervently.

He pulls you down with him as he drops his back to the bed, lifting you with him as he moves back further onto the mattress so that his legs no longer hang off the side.

He quickly fists the material of your bikini bottom on both sides before ripping them off.

“Hey!—“ you begin to protest, but he shushes you with a deep, passionate kiss.

“Those were ruined already anyways” he smirks against your lips. The chuckle dies in his throat, quickly turning into a groan when you grind your bare pussy onto the thin fabric of his swim shorts, his eyebrows scrunching together.

You pull back to push his shorts down before he kicks them off, lifting yourself up a bit as his dick springs from it’s confines, making a wet slapping sound as it hits his stomach. He was impossibly hard.

Dropping back down, the two of you moan in unison as your bare cunt makes contact with his cock, sliding back slowly, drenching him in your slickness.

You lift back up, grasping his thick cock in your hand. He chokes on air as a loud blaring rings out, startling you so that you accidentally squeeze his cock tightly.

“ATTENTION HORN DOGS. I REPEAT ATTENTION HORN DOGS. GET YOUR ASSES TO THE POOL RIGHT NOW!” Sam’s voice booms through the speakers on the ceiling. No doubt Tony had overrode the system, allowing the stupid bird boy to hijack the intercoms.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE US ALONE, SAM!” Bucky yells back, frustration lacing his words.

“NO CAN DO.” Comes Sam’s reply before the previous loud blaring sound ensues once more.

Covering your ears at the deafening sound, you see Bucky’s jaw clench, a murderous look in his eyes as he stares at the intercom angrily, his fists balling.

“Y’ALL HAVE FIVE MINUTES BEFORE I TURN THIS UP A NOTCH” Sam voice returns, as Bucky begins to reach for the gun that he kept in his bedside drawer.

Removing one of your hands from your ears, you grasp Bucky’s arm so that he couldn’t shoot the intercom system.

“Let’s just go” You shout over the deafening sounds. You were quite fed up with the whole ordeal, the beginnings of a headache beginning to creep up in the back of your head because of the sound. The loud noise did nothing but to agitate you, your jaw setting in place as your temper begins to flare.

“Sam! Turn this shit off NOW before I take a giant heaping shit on your fucking bed” you shout, and the noise stops abruptly.

“You wouldn’t..” comes Sam’s reply, silence settling over the room now, which was soon replaced by ringing in your ears.

“Fucking try me.” You grit, standing up as you pull Bucky up as well as you close your eyes briefly, a headache beginning to settle in.

“Fine but y’all have 5 minutes to get down here before I—“ you don’t let him finish before taking the knife strapped to the bottom of the bed and throw it into the speaker, effectively breaking it. Tony would have a field day about it, but to be fair, he was the one that allowed the override in the first place.

“God, babydoll, you know it gets me hot and bothered when you threaten that glorified chicken man like that” Bucky smirks from beside you, putting a hand on your waist. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You nod, walking over to your drawers to find a bikini and slip it on quickly before throwing Bucky a new pair of shorts.

Bucky’s hands are on you once more as soon as he’s put the shorts back on, massaging your shoulders slightly. You let a breath out, some of the tension leaving you as his hands work against your skin.

“Come on, let’s go before the asshole turns that shit on again”, Bucky says, pressing another kiss to your temple as he walks you out.

———

The first thing you do once you reach the pool area is kick Sam straight into the water as he sputters once he’s surfaced again.

“Honestly, you deserved that for interrupting two of the world’s deadliest assassins in the middle of their sexy time” Clint chuckles as you point the middle finger at Sam. “I’d be scared if I were you.”

Moving onto where Natasha laid on one of the chairs, you stood over her, effectively blocking her sun.

“I know the game the two of you are trying to pull” you say unamusedly once she tips her sunglasses down to look at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N” she smirks, sipping on her drink to which you just roll your eyes. Shaking your head, you walk away from the redhead and towards the mini bar. You were going to need a few drinks if this kept up.

The rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully, though you did throw Sam into the water every chance you got. He was a grumbling ball of anger by the time you and the rest of the team decided to continue this ‘team hangout day’ inside in the rec room.

“Here’s some clothes for you to change into,” Sam says smugly, handing Bucky a bag with a shirt, pants and some socks. “You know, to spare you a trip up to your room since I know how much you hate elevators.”

“Fuck off” Bucky grunts, taking the bag and walking towards the direction of the bathrooms. You had told him about Sam and Nat’s little game plan and he had groaned frustratedly before shoving Sam into the pool only moments after he had crawled out, cussing him out the entire time Sam yelled.

“I brought you a dress so you don’t have to make the trip back up to your room either, Y/N. Even brought you panties like the good friend I am.” Nat says, a shit eating grin on her face as she hands you one of the two bags she had produced from seemingly out of nowhere. You narrow your eyes at her before snatching the bag from her hands, which elicits a laugh from the redhead before she pushes you in the direction of the bathroom opposite of the way Bucky had gone. Oh she was so going to pay for this.

Once you emerge from the bathroom changed, Bucky’s hand finds its way over yours, interlacing your fingers as you follow the rest of the group to the rec room.

Having just returned from a mission earlier this morning, you and Bucky sat on one of the armchairs, watching as the rest of your teammates shot billiards or played air hockey. Clint was definitely the reigning champ of both.

You had snuggled onto Bucky’s lap, his arms around you as he presses kisses to your shoulders periodically. You had to admit, spending the day with the team was very nice, but the fleeting touches and soft caresses from Bucky throughout the afternoon definitely didn’t help the fact that you had been deprived of him for over a week.

“Be right back” You murmur, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s hair as you get off his lap. His eyes are on you the entire time as you make your way over to the mini-fridge. God what he’d do to bend you over that fridge and take you right now.

He craved you, the need to feel you under his fingertips almost overwhelming. It hadn’t helped that you had been in a bikini for most of the afternoon.

He groans under his breath when you bend down to grab two bottles of beer, the short dress riding up to expose a bit of the black lace of your underwear. Blood goes straight to his dick when he closes his eyes momentarily, envisioning his hands on your ass and ripping those panties off you.

You jump slightly when you feel Bucky’s breath on the back of your neck as you set the bottles down, reaching for the bottle opener on the shelf above.

“Come with me,” he grunts, grabbing your hand as he pulls you to the side of rec room. His hand moves along the decorative tile lining of the wall, stopping once he’s found what he was looking for. Before you have time to ask him what was happening, the floor beneath you spins and when you blink again you’re in a different room. It’s small and cozy, a couple book shelves and an arm chair in the corner with a tall light beside it, illuminating the room.

“Wha—“ you begin to ask, but Bucky cuts you off.

“Secret room. Found it by mistake one day. Took me a while to figure out how to get the fuck out,” he grunts, “guess it’s coming in handy now.”

You had known that the tower was full of secret rooms and escape routes, but you were surprised that in all the times you had been in the rec room, not once had you ever seen the little trigger button. Guess it’s called a secret for a reason.

“C’mere,” Bucky murmurs pulling you into him by the hips before crashing his lips to yours.

“Need you so bad, baby” He groans, walking you backwards until your back hits the wall adjacent to the one with the entrance you had just come from.

He pulls your left leg up to his hip, his body trapping you to the wall as he grinds his hips into you. A breathy moan escapes you as the rough denim of his pants provide just the right amount of friction on your core as it rubs into you.

He repeats the motion, lips going to your neck, sucking your sweet spot as you arch into him. He hisses when you snake your hand between your bodies, palming him through his jeans, his teeth sinking into your shoulder when you hold onto him through the material, applying slight pressure.

His hand moves up your thigh, finding its way to your core, pushing your panties aside, and without warning, he enters a finger in you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp as you throw your head back.

“Fuck—“ you breathe as he begins moving it in and out, his pace increasing. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each movement and your mouth hangs open, the pleasure building in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck baby, so wet for me. Could feel you when you were sitting on me” he groans, pressing his lips back onto yours as your arch into him.

“James” You moan loudly as he inserts another finger, his lips moving to continue their assault on your neck. “Fuck—yes, just like that, baby.” You whimper as his pace increases, spurred on by your reactions.

“Bucky I’m—“

“Oh pardon me, I didn’t mean to interrupt your moment” a voice says from behind Bucky. Snapping your eyes open and pulling Bucky’s hand out of your panties, your eyes widen at the sight in front you you.

Vision stands in the doorway, the door rotated so that it was parallel to the floor, allowing almost full visibility into the small secret room from the rec room. The rest of the team stood outside, mostly with shocked expressions on their faces with exclusion to Sam and Nat who sported amused looks.

It’s completely silent as Bucky leads you out of the room.

“DO NOT EVEN START!” He snaps when Sam opens his mouth to speak, suddenly picking you up and swinging you across his shoulder. “Me and my girlfriend are leaving now to have sex. Fuck. Screw. Do the do. Whatever you want to call it. IN PEACE AND PRIVATE. If anyone, and I mean ANYONE, interrupts us for ANY fucking reason, I will personally make sure that they never see the light of day again. And NO ONE will ever find the body. GOOD BYE.” Bucky yells, his chest heaving slightly as he storms out of the room with you still over his shoulder.

When you lift your head up, you can’t help but laugh the varying faces of your quickly receding teammates. Their expressions ranged from absolutely mortified, to shocked, to confused, with Sam and Nat doubled over laughing. You quickly give them the finger, making them laugh harder as you roll your eyes.

Bucky carries you all the way to your shared room, barely waiting for the elevator doors to open before squeezing through them and kicking the door closed once you guys were inside.

“Now, where were we?” He asks, depositing you on the bed, immediately going to kiss your neck as you arch into him. His large hand roams beneath your dress, cupping your breast as a whimper escapes you.

A wolfish grin appears on Bucky’s face as he pulls back slightly to look down at you as a breathless giggle slips past your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair. A slight smirk plays on your lips as you pull him down to you, a playful glint in your eyes as your lips hover over his.

“We are so going to fuck on Sam and Nat’s beds as payback.”

A/N: Ok since there were no “s e x smut” things in this fic, I’m gonna link Cherry Stem Kisses here if you’re craving some sexsex smut, ya know? 😂 Tbh this fic got me going though.

Tags: @sgtjbuccky-main @silver-starburst @chrevastan @boopboopbarnes @goldenkillmonger @just-add-butter @1xxmrsalphaxx1 @sadbhabie2020 @coal000 @jaamesbbarnes @dewy-biitch @capbuckybuchanan @jamesbbbarnes

Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #Sebastian stan #the winter soldier #James bucky barnes #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x fem reader #avengers #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fanfiction #James buchanan barnes #marvel imagines

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funkywerks · 5 years

Text

Things I Know About Airplanes Part 1:

First things first !

There are just some things you cannot control. So let go of that perfect travel itinerary. Air travel is made possible by so many factors its impossible that on everyday in every way everything goes perfect !

Is air travel safe ? Absolutely. Is airtravel convenient? HELL YAH. Is airtravel fun, cheap or relaxing? Go fish . So remember unless you want to swim , walk , or drive to your destination This airplane business is overall pretty cool.

I would have titled this post “ tips to make you a better traveler” , but that would mean that I deem myself queen supreme of all sky travel ever.

( and there is nothing that grinds my gears like a couple people calling themselves world travelers after their cruise to Cabo on spring break ). So this is just based on what I know as a flight attendant .

the plane will ( and I cannot stress this enough ) NOT , wait for you.

- SORRY !!!!! If you’re late the plane will not wait for you. If you miss your connection the plane will not wait for you. Let go. Stop stressing. I know this is a hard pill to swallow. You got this. Stop yelling at airport or airline staff because no matter what we do ( NO MATTER WHAT WE DO aka WE CANT DO ANYTHING) if we are delayed aka late or if you are late, Your plane is gone. THE PLANE WILL LEAVE AT THE TIME IT SAID IT WOULD. Much like you committed to being there at that time. I don’t make the rules. The rules pay me to be at work on time & here I am.

Why can’t the plane wait for you?

The world doesn’t revolve around you. How many more delays would you have caused if every time you were late for a connection or a flight , if it waited only for you. Just you. Did you ever think about the other 200 people trying to get to their connections. & maybe you haven’t thought of anyone else. BUT TODAY IS THE DAY YOU START. If you really wanna brain storm you can also think about the flight that needs your aircraft after you THOSE PEOPLE TOO . So just think about others. Bad weather ? Can’t go . Broken airplane ? Good thing we have awesome pilots and mechanics that can detect such dangers. No airplane ? Come on! you’re smarter than this. Stop being upset about it. Nothing you can do. Rebook your flight. Sleep in the airport if you have too or buy a hotel if you REALLY have to. Swallow your pride. You can travel across the country in less than 5 hours in a supersonic tin that sometimes has WiFi and movies ( more about that later ). Life is good.

Tip from a flight attendant, my personal fav , I swear by it:

Book the earliest flight you can. Like 5 am early!!!!! You are less likely to be delayed in the morning. There is less air traffic and the airplanes come from the hangers after being serviced overnight. If anything goes wrong you have time for a back up plan. Not being a “morning person “ is a lame excuse for an adult human these days . ok .

I’m honestly not sure if I’m giving airplane advice or just life advice at this point tbh. Moving on !!!!

2. Headphones and other things you forgot to pack.

Ok so. I’m for sure not about to tell you how to pack the perfect carry on because there is no such thing ( don’t let any YouTuber tell you so ) But I can tell you about the common items that people forget to bring with them on airplanes

( based on multiple true stories )

- headphoneS / MULTIPLE PAIRS / meaning the ones for your phone ( Bluetooth or lighting port AND the old regular ones ) if the airplane gods smile upon you the day of your flight , you might have inflight entertainment WOW free movies in your seat back! that’s insane right . ( especially since you’re paying for transportation and not to be entertained ) but if you forget the regular headphones, you can’t watch them ! I always also download other movies to my phone or tablet as well just Incase.

- A blanket or jacket. It’s true ! Breaking news ! not all airplanes supply blankets. Flight attendants get asked all day long multiple times if we have “ any extra blankets , it’s so cold in here “ so. Wear a jacket & closed toed shoes ?. Flight attendants have minimal control over the temperatures. Why did you wear shorts and sandals? YOU KNOW AIRPLANES GET COLD. Just like movie theaters are cold. You never ask someone at the concession stand to warm up your theater. This isn’t a house it’s an airplane. My airplane outfit is always nice jeans, plain tee, socks , vans and a jacket. Always. I will swear by it, I’m always the right temperature.

- Portable charger bank. This ones lame and I hate it. Not all airplanes have charging outlets. And it sucks I know. I work there. Can you imagine walking into work and there being no outlets. Well I feel your pain on this one. All of the airplanes are random. Some airbus models have screens and WiFi and chargers. And some have none. Luck of the draw. If you cannot find the charger in your immediate area. A flight attendant cannot make one for you. Be smart ! bring a portable charger bank. If the airplane is and old Boeing 767 ( super random plane we use for some Europe routes and select domestic ) it has cigarette lighter chargers ( like in old cars ) in some rows **** . Just bring a portable charger and avoid landing in a foreign country without access to information. Save yourself.

- SNACKS why do so many people overlook the importance of the airplane snack. Unless your flight is over 3 hours food will not even be available for purchase. And over 3 hours the food is expensive and mediocre. Complimentary meals are only served on long haul international or routes Jfk - SFO JFK - LAx and JFK - San ( direct ) . So airplane snacks are important. I usually get 2 choices . Something to munch on while watching my movie and one snack that actually is a meal. For example : I bring sunflower seeds and a Pb and j. Or if I’m feeling extra !!! : a quick bacon egg and cheese from the airport Starbucks, large venti ice coffee and Chex mix. You get the idea. It’s an airplane not a kitchen. It’s like a sky bodega. Don’t be unhappy. bring your own stuff. Especially if you’re vegan, or allergic to everything. PLEASE I BEG YOU! DONT BE THE FITNESS GURU WHO NEEDS MORE GRASS FED PROTEIN AT 38000 FEET. ( actually happened to me ) oh also people say that airplane coffee isn’t safe? Because of the water tanks. The Jury is still out on that: I will be your personal lab rat , I drink multiple cups of airplane coffee in one sitting. Make your assumptions and opinions. I will stay warm and caffeinated.

3. Hacks and tricks . Ok so we’re getting to the good stuff. I’m about to tell you the easiest way to be offered a free drink , snack , or in general special treatment on the airplane. Are you ready !? BE SUPER NICE AND PERSONABLE. Ok not exactly rocket science but seriously the SECOND you mumble under your breath, say something rude, get an attitude, look unsettled, or be annoying in the galley. You might as well kiss your chances of getting any special treatment goodbye. ( one person does something , the entire crew knows about it. rude passengers will not be rewarded . Being rude to airline staff never works . I’ve never seen it work) airline staff will most of the time reward good behavior. Wow are we back in pre-k? Or what. Ok now something more tangible . -BRING THE FLIGHT STAFF SMALL GIFTS. Most airplanes have 4 flight attendants on board. International has 12. If you walk on board and say “ hi I’m ______ seated in 23a ( whatever your seat may be ) I brought these for the flight attendants” almost 10/10 times we love it and tell the whole crew to take care of that person specifically. This is important : *You will probably have a flight attendant ask you “ thank you for the gift. do you need anything ? “* and that is your go to time !!!! That’s your time to shine !!!!!! If you want a free drink or snack !!!! Ask now!!!!!!!!!!! This is a real thing and it really works. Small gifts include : individually rapped candies, hand sanitizer, a pack of pens, any kind of snacks at all , a 4 pack of Red Bull/espresso 4 little bags of mnms,donuts or munchkins from Dunkin’ Donuts. Honestly it doesn’t have to be big or expensive! If you show up to your flight on time AND you’re nice to the flight attendants. Just wow . Doing better than 99% of anyone else on airplanes. Go you . If you are a high maintenance flyer this is your go to move to get on the good side of everyone on the crew. Or buy a first class seat ok ? A smile and some donuts go a long way. DO YOU WANT FREE WIFI ? Me too but unfortunately most of the time the WiFi is expensive and not at all free . BUT after take off if you connect to WiFi and the WiFi connection is sourced by the company “gogoinflight” ( you’ll know cause that’s what it’s called in your settings when you connect to WiFi ) I do have a trick. Gogoinflight is a company that sources WiFi for major airlines, if you have T-Mobile ( or if you know someone with a T-Mobile phone number *****) you can enter your phone number and boom free WiFi for an hour. FREE BEER AND WINE - actually free - on international routes ( not Caribbean) don’t be a jerk ! It’s an airplane not a bar. You’re an adult you know you can’t act drunk on airplanes. It’s actually VERY frowned upon and personal CAN call security on you. If you can’t drink 2 glasses of wine on the ground without dancing on the table , you can’t on the airplane. Oh and TRUST me I’ve seen the light while yaking in the airplane bathroom and THAT MY FRIEND!!!! will not be my final destination!!!

#Travel #Flight #flight attendant #Tips #Airplanes #Things I know about airplanes #aviation

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daisymondays · 6 years

Note

Hey gracie, I'm the anon who u recently dragged into the stucky fandom with your fic, chapter 8 was so great, I don't want it to be over but at the same time I neeed it to be resolved and them in love 😁😁😁 could u maybe recommend me some of your favourite stucky fics plsssss I am now desperate ❤️

Hi babe! Could you recommend some good stucky fics??? I’ve read yours and absolutely love them!!!! Karma’s a fake orgasm was EVERYTHING I never knew I needed!!!

Hi Nonnies, I am extremely sorry about how long I’ve taken to actually answer this but hopefully the rec list will be worth it!! a friend of mine actually recently asked for fic recs so i was kind of kicked into creating this list – this also means it comes with recommendations from a couple of mates who also like stucky, one of which actually recced me some of these fics when i got into the pairing so without further ado !!!

Set in the Canon Verse Fics

Not Easily Conquered Series

In 1945, Steve Rogers jumps from a nosediving plane and swims through miles of Arctic Ocean to a frozen shore.

In 1947, Steve Rogers marries Peggy Carter.

In 1966, the New York Times finds the lost letters of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

side-note: okay this one isn’t technically canon seeing as it’s Steve didn’t die at the end of Cap1 series, but its pretty close to canon so i’m keeping it in this category

Accidentally On Purpose

‘Bucky turns toward him, sliding his hand onto Steve’s hip as he mutters a lazy “G’night” and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. It takes him by surprise, and he barely has time to register Bucky’s half-closed eyes and the warmth of whiskey-ripe breath on his lips, before it’s over.’

After Bucky drunkenly kisses Steve by accident, it just seems to keep on happening, until it’s not so much by accident anymore.

Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen

Bucky Barnes and the Great Sexuality Crisis of 1938.

Body Studies

Bucky wants Steve to draw him. Bucky’s bored enough to model, and that’s – that’s –

“That’s – a fun idea,” Steve supplies, fingers tight around his pencil. “I mean, we could try that if you wanted to.” Is his palm sweating on the pencil? “It’d be pretty boring for you, though, I guess.”

no heart to recall

He’s been in Steve Rogers’s company for less than twenty-four hours and he’s already losing sight of his mission.

This, You Protect Series

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

One Day We Won’t Have to Be Scared

Steve and Bucky are at a gay bar in the 30s, and some guy offers them money to take pictures of them as they fuck. They need the money, they say yes, and pretty much forget about it afterwards. The pictures come out years later.

Painted In Indigo

‘“You should be careful of that one,” Mr. Hendrickson says, with a nod to Bucky outside the window. “It ain’t right. Looking at you all the time as he does. The way he should be looking at girls.”

Steve laughs, because damn, but what a ridiculous idea.’

Or, five times Steve caught Bucky looking at him, and the one time he looked first.

Shrunky/Shrinky-Clinks Fics

This means either Cap!Steve with Modern Bucky, or Beefy Bucky with Pre-Serum Steve (i’m a bit fuzzy on the exact Shrinky-Clinks definition)

We Could be Heroes (Me and You)

When the Asset drags himself out of the Potomac River after the battle of the Triskelion, something has changed.There is a presence inside his head that wasn’t there before; one that speaks directly to his most primal instincts, and it speaks only of one thing:To run. Run now, run fast, and to never, ever stop.And so, the Asset does.A story of recovery, of facing one’s inner demons, and learning to accept the harsh truths of life. Of love, and the many different shapes it can take. The value of choice and free will, and how someone who doesn’t believe themselves worthy of being saved can end up being someone else’s hero.

The Voyager

On the day aliens fall to earth through a hole ripped in the sky, Bucky Barnes is pulled from the rubble of the Battle of New York by a mysterious man wearing a costume and a cowl.

The next day, he wakes up in the hospital and makes a new friend named Steve Rogers - a certified weirdo with a deck of cards and plenty of time on his hands.

A postcard, a text, and a thousand miles of asphalt later, Bucky’s still trying to understand the man who came from the stars.

Steve, meanwhile, is finally putting the journey ahead of the destination.

Sorry, Not Sorry

All Steve Rogers ever wanted was to do what’s right. So when he drops in to volunteer at the Brooklyn VA Outpatient Center, he’s surprised to learn some veterans actually resent Captain America and everything he represents. One veteran in particular is determined to make sure Steve understands just how much he dislikes him.

Stop interrupting my grinding series

“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

AU Fics

War, Children

After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.

These streets Series

The life and times of Police Officer Steve Rogers and his dealings with the not so classy residents of his local precinct, including Bucky Barnes, the rough muscle with the dreamy blue eyes.

Proprietary Information Series

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy’s gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he’s so far out of Bucky’s league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

To Be Vulnerable Is Needed Most Of All

Steve is a shy comic book artist and meets his new neighbour, Bucky Barnes.

In which there are awkward longings, meddling best friends, comic conventions, heartache, lemons, video games, dorkiness, dancing and two cute boys.

The Daily Rogers

College AU. May contain exchange students, a Starbucks addiction, daddy issues, anger issues, closets and how to get out of them, the ever-ominous influence of social networks, various levels of betrayal, awfully poor life choices, but also, ultimately, real chunks of love.

we are the things we do for fun series

Going to a professional Dom may be one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever done. Especially since this skinny Steve Rogers guy doesn’t really look the part.

But hey, they might just find a way to make this work.

Additional Steve/Peggy/Bucky fic because it’s mildly life changing

Better Than To Bend

In which Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is tired, hungry and completely failing at not sticking it in the crazy. Also there’s a war going on or something.

aka world war threesome. Fear these queers.

Side-note: there is steve/bucky sequel that is amazing too and can (probably) be read as a stand alone

So, here you go Nonnies, sorry for the delay but i hope this makes up for it!! overall, really these are my bookmarked fics so check out my bookmarks for a couple more you might enjoy, otherwise i’ve found so many quality stucky fics by just going on the AO3 Bucky/Steve tag and then sorting by kudos, there’s such a range of humour, feels, angst and fluff !!! also most of these authors i’d also just rec every fic they write, so check them out!!

hope you enjoy and if you have any more questions i promise to try answer in a more timely fashion xoxo

#stucky #stucky recs #stucky fic #gracie speaks

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transdonaldduck · 6 years

Note

idk if you already answered this, but what was mason and donalds first meeting like?

Mom was confident, a pillar of strength Mason desperately wanted to emulate- she was certain and steady all the time. At most she was reserved, modest, gentle… but never has her hand hovered over a doorbell for so long, waiting to gather the courage to ring the bell. A heart beat passes and Jessica pushes the buzzer to McDuck Manor.

There’s a pause, then- “McDuck Residence, state your business.” It’s a curt tone, feminine, and her sharpness makes Mason frown.

“Yes, hi! Hello.” Jessica’s nerves finally smoothed out on the last word, jitters vanishing as her professional persona kicked in, “I’m looking for Donald Duck.”

She doesn’t get a reply for a long moment, and just when she thinks she’s been denied, there‘s the voice again, “May I ask what this is about?”

“Of course, um, My name is Jessica Quackmire. We met about fifteen years ago, and I have… something that uh…” Her face twists as she fishes for the right words, “…Belongs to him?”

Mason turns her head slowly, unamused. Jessica shrugs helplessly, mouths I didn’t know what to say!

There’s a loud sound, the grinding of metal against metal and Mason jumps, watching the gates peel backwards to allow them entrance, “Please proceed forward.” The woman says over the intercom before the line drops dead. Mom puts the car in drive.

“Something that belongs to him?” Mason asks wryly.

“I’m an adult, I can admit it: I panicked.” Jessica says reasonably, grimacing at her own word choice, “This is a delicate situation, I didn’t want to just tell him about a surprise family over a gate intercom.”

“Fair enough.” Mason concedes, drumming out a tune on the dashboard, trying to expel some built up energy.

“…Are you nervous about meeting him?” Jessica asks gently.

Mason balls her hands up to stop the incessant habit, dropping them to her lap, “What’s there to be nervous about?” She tries for nonchalant, “It’s not like I don’t know all about him… he’s got his own wikipedia page.”

“It’s different reading about someone versus actually meeting them.” Mom points out as she finally makes it to the manor, pulling into the roundabout in front of the main entrance, “Do you want to stay in the car until I talk to him?”

“No way, I want to be there the whole time.” She says, unclicking her seatbelt, “I can handle it.”

Once mom had decided to start med school, she’d sat Mason down and had a long talk about her father. It’s not as if Mason wasn’t aware of him before, and while she’d always kind of wondered about what he was like in person, she also was pretty happy with her life and never really felt the need to reach out badly enough to actually do it. Mom wanted them to build a relationship, though, since she wouldn’t be around a lot once she went back to school. Mason had a sneaking suspicion there was another reason there somewhere, but she didn’t pry. The thought of meeting her dad was good in theory, but he was a difficult man to track down. Turns out he hopped from job to job, didn’t have a landline listed in the phone book, and his previously listed house(boat) had apparently blown up and then sunk spectacularly during the return of magica De Spell- so, he was hard to get a hold of… which meant they were stuck here, jumping right into the fire instead of asking him to meet them out for lunch or something. No warning ahead of time. Oof.

Mason pops open her door and jumps out of the car, following her mom up to the door. The closer she got to actually meeting Donald Duck, the more anxious she was getting. What if he didn’t like her..? What if he didn’t want her.

Mom knocks on the door politely and firmly without delay, this time, shoulders squared. Mason mimics her, straightening her spine, schooling her expression. The woman who opens the door was an imposing figure. She was dressed very sweetly in a matronly apron and a skirt, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, and Mason understood almost immediately she was the no-nonsense type and strains to stand stiffer under her eyes.

“Jessica Quackmire,” Mom smiles, solding out her hand.

“I am the housekeeper, Miss Beakley.” She smiles back, shaking her mom’s hand twice, “Please follow me, Donald is out back.”

Miss Beakley hardly gives them time to register her words before she’s off, and Mason and her mom are pressed to chase after her. The Manor is huge, bigger than Mason’s elementary school and highschool combined, there’s tasteful crown moulding and paintings and marbles flooring with plush red carpets on top, they pass a fireplace as tall as her stacked with wood for its next use- its fancy and clean and well put together. Her Dad lived here?

As she looks around, craning her neck to take it all in, she gets the distinct feeling of being watched. She glances behind her suspiciously, frowning at the empty hallway and then scrambling to keep up when she realizes she’s being left in the dust. Finally they come upon a kitchen area and, past that, a set of sliding glass doors that lead out to a pool area, and in the pool… is a giant boat.

Are rich people really like this?

There’s two people on deck of the boat and, now that Mason is looking closer, the ship is in rough shape- it’s banged up and scraped, huge sections of paint missing, the bow is cracked and splintered in places, the smoke stack up top dented and banged up. There’s signs of work all around the pool, stacks of wood, buckets of paint, other things Mason doesn’t know enough about to identify… but the thing that really catches her attention is that the two men on the boat are arguing loudly.

“Donald!” Miss Beakley calls, “Your guests are here!”

The man in the sailor suit pauses the argument, grabbing the edge of the railing to peer over and look at them. He’s handsome, a few stress wrinkles here and there, but his feathers are still bright. He’s wearing a sailors outfit, and even leaning over the railing he stands like the boys in JROTC stood- military. He’s got his feathers cut short, a tuft or two poking out from his hairline, and before she can quite take it all in he leans too far over the edge and pitches forward into the water with a loud quack of surprise.

Mason barks out a startled laugh, clapping a hand to her beak to smother it as mom hurried forward to try and help. This was Donald Duck? Scrooge McDuck’s nephew and one of the worlds most skilled adventures in the world? Mason felt a bit better, knowing now he wasn’t exactly the intimidating figure she’d built him up to be. Jessica leans out and offers him her hand as he pops out of the water, blinking chlorine out of his eyes, but before he can take it Scrooge leans down from the entrance plank and uses his cane to hook the back of his shirt, pulling him over to the edge of the pool so he could haul himself out.

He sits in the edge of the pool and coughs a few times, smacking his chest, and gathers his bearings.

“Hello Mrs. Quackmire,” Scrooge says, coming down the rest of the way to greet them, “Scrooge McDuck.”

Jessica reaches out to shake his hand, “No introduction necessary, Mr. McDuck, I think the whole world knows who you are.”

Donald gets to his feet, water rolling off his feathers, ringing out his shirt, “Don’t say that, it’ll just go to his head.”

And Masons heart skips a beat.

“Your voice…” She says without thinking at all.

He blinks, winces, and she can see his face flush under his feathers, “I have a speech impediment.” And it almost sounds like an apology.

She wants to say don’t worry, I had the same one but her throat is suspiciously tight and she can’t quite get the words out, dropping her eyes to the ground so she doesn’t make him feel worse. Mom has put her through several speech therapy classes when she was young and, while she never fully lost the scratchy undertone, she wasn’t even a fraction as garbled as he was. If there was any more proof she’d needed…

“Hey, Donald. It’s been a while,” Jessica steps forward, crossing her arms across her stomach, drawing his attention, “Would you mind if we talked in private?”

He blinks and his eyebrows furrow, and Mason can tell he’s trying to place where he knows her from. He nods, “sure, would you like to come inside my houseboat? It was recently sunk so sorry about the work in progress.”

“You could always stay inside the manor like I was offering.” Scrooge mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’ll be inside if you need me. It was nice meeting you, Miss Quackmire.”

“Likewise!” She responds, following Donald inside the boat with Mason in tow.

And Donald hadn’t been lying, like the outside of the boat, the inside was a mess. The railing on the stairs was broken along the base, missing several slats, and the kitchen had been gutted, empty holes where a stove or a dishwasher should have been. The place was sparsely decorated, the kitchen table piled with picture frames and photo albums, the living room with only a worn looking couch and matching chair, an ancient tv set.

“She was damaged during the return of Magica De Spell,” he tells them, “I’m trying to fix her up. Make yourself at home, I’m gonna go get out of these wet clothes.”

Jessica smiles at Mason encouragingly, “Well, this is kind of nice, isn’t it?” She says, looking around, “It needs a few repairs, but it’s so… sweet. Quaint.”

“Not something I expected from the nephew of a trillionaire.” Mason admits, walking over to the kitchen table, peeking at the photos, “This must be Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” She says, looking at the picture. It’s Donald with the boys, they’re all smiling, at a park, and the boys look no older than six or seven. The picture is warped around the edges from water damage and she can see the care Donald took to try and salvage it.

Donald comes back into the room wearing a loose black t-shirt and Jessica smiles at him, stepping away from the kitchen table, “Please, have a seat.” He says warmly, motioning to the couch. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, “Would you like some tea?”

“No, that’s alright.” Jessica shakes her head, taking her satchel off and setting it aside.

“Okay, let’s get down to business. You said you had something of mine?” Donald says, sitting across from them in the chair, “I hope it’s not her!” he says jokingly, motioning to Mason.

Mason and Jessica’s eyes get as big as dinner plates.

There’s a long pause, and Donalds own eyes widen comically as the puzzle pieces slide into place. “Oh- Oh-” He stutters, hands reaching out to clutch the arms of the chair, “ Is she- she’s mine?” Donald asks, eyebrows shooting to his hairline, disbelief in his gaze.

Jessica takes a deep breathe, “Fifteen years ago you and your band the Three Caballeros were playing at a bar in Las Vegas. I invited you back to my place- I don’t know if you remember that, or me, but I have a picture of us when we met. I was into photography back then.” She grabs her satchel, pulling out an old looking photo, handing it to him, “After that night, you went back to duckburg…” She closes her eyes for a brief moment, “And I laid an egg.”

He studies the photo.

“I chose to raise her on my own,” She continues, balling her hands into fists in her lap, “I thought it was the best choice and I never told you, but I shouldn’t have made that decision for you. We came here today to… to give you the option to have a relationship, with her.”

He looks up, face still slack jawed, “I have a daughter?” he asks, in the softest voice Masons ever heard, looking back and forth between them.

Jessica nods, “Yeah.” She says, just as soft.

He looks at her and he absolutely glows. She feels her breath catch again, and she almost feels lightheaded, “What’s your name?” He asks her, smiling wide, eyes sparkling.

“Mason.” She says automatically, blinking away the burn in her eyes, “Mason Victoria Quackmire.”

“Mason!” he repeats in awe, jumping up and coming to sit beside her on the couch, “I was just joking before,” He says earnestly, “I’m really happy it’s you. I’m really happy to meet you.”

Before she can burst into tears she throws her arms around him, burying her face into his chest, and a warm feeling cascades over her heart when he envelopes her in a bear hug, pulling her close, tucking his beak over her head. He’s solid, steady, and warm.

“On the event that this was a happy reunion,” Jessica ventures, giddy, digging through her bag, “I brought you some things I think you’d like to see.” She pulls out a photo album, ones that has a dated floral pattern, worn along the edges.

Mason groans playfully, too busy wiping away happy tears to really put any ire into her teasing.

Donald gasps, reaching out to take the book, keeping her held close with one arm. He sets it on his lap, flipping through the pages with one hand. The first is a picture of her the day she hatched and he gets so excited he almost jumps off the couch, cooing at the picture, “You’re so adorable!” He fawns, positively glowing as he flips through each page.

“There she is on her first birthday, we had a special cake for her to eat with her hands,” Jessica squishes close on Masons other side, pointing to different photos and offering context, “There she is on her first day of kindergarten- oh there’s the Halloween where she dressed up as Darkwing Duck! From that old-school tv show!”

“I know the one,” Donald smiles fondly, trailing a finger lightly over the edge of the photo, and Mason slyly tries to wipe away her tears. Jessica and Donald both press reassuringly closer and Mason gets the idea that she wasn’t subtle enough.

They spend who knows how long going through photo albums and school yearbooks, her parents gushing over elementary school graduation and awkward middle school dances, the ones where Mason has braces and ugly glittery dresses she had thought looked amazing when she’d picked them out. Jessica had even brought home videos she’d taken of Mason when she was a kid, Donald hunting down his salvaged VCR to play them, Masons speech impediment mirroring her fathers, and the first time he heard her childhood voice he started quacking excitedly, grinning ear to ear.

“Uncle Donald!” A voice calls down the stairs, a kid bouncing down the steps, “Dinner’s-” he stumbles to a stop, blanching at the other people in the house, “Uh, Dinner’s done?”

“Ah,” Donald says eloquently, glancing at his cell phone, “I didn’t realize how much time had passed.” He admits, “Would you two like to stay for dinner?” He asks, turning to them.

“Ah, no thank you, we wouldn’t want to impose.” Jessica refuses politely, both she and Mason had agreed beforehand that they wouldn’t stay for dinner, putting a time limit on their stay in case it wasn’t a very good reunion.

“But we’re staying in town for the next few days, so we’ll be able to come back and see you again when you’re free?” Mason ventured hopefully.

“I’m free- I’m always free, no problem, anytime.” Donald nods, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime.” He stresses.

The boy’s eyebrows keep climbing, confusion written on his face as he slowly inches up the stairs, adjusting his hat awkwardly. He disappears the last of the way when Jessica stands, taking his queue to leave finally. He’s one of Donald’s nephews, Mason’s pretty sure that was Huey, the one who dresses in all red. Mason follows after her mom, standing and getting ready. Donald is slower to follow, sad to see them go.

“Before you Leave- please, let me introduce you to my family.” He implores, “Officially.”

Jessica looks at Mason, asking her silently if that’s what she wanted, “Yeah, Okay.” Mason nods nervously, “I think I’d like that.”

The manor is just as nice and high class as before, but after spending all day in the houseboat it feels emptier, a bit too cold compared to the lived in and well loved old ship… the dining room is full, several people gathered around to eat, Donald’s nephews and a little girl- maybe a friend of theirs?- are gathered to one side, whispering and conspiring over their silverware. Scrooge Mcduck is at the head, glancing over a map- which is spirited away suddenly by the housekeeper from before, tutting at him when he tries to snatch it back. Also there’s a ghost. What the fuck. He’s serving mashed potatoes.

“Oh, Mrs. Quackmire, I didn’t realize you were staying for dinner.” Mrs. Beakley notes apologetically, “I’ll set out two extra place settings for you.”

“No, no, that’s alright.” Jessica holds out her hands, “We’re actually on our way out!”

“But before they leave, I’d like you all to be acquainted.” Donald steps forward, “Boys, Uncle Scrooge,” He says, turning to them, placing a warm hand on her shoulder to steady them both, “This is Mason. She’s my daughter.”

“…What?” Scrooge asks blankly, processing his words slowly, eyebrows shooting to his hairline, “Did you just- Daughter?” He wheezes out, shocked.

Donald squeezes Masons shoulder, “Yes, I didn’t know about her until today. Jessica and I met at one of my shows with the Three Caballeros. Mason, this is your great uncle Scrooge and your cousins Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby.” He says, pointing them each out in turn.

She does a little wave, smiling awkwardly, “Hi, it’s… really nice to meet you.” She says earnestly. They seem too shocked to say anything, except for Webby, who looks like she’s about to jump out of her seat in excitement. She whips a camera out of nowhere and snaps a picture of Mason, much to her confusion.

“Oh this one is SO going on my corkboard!” She crows, holding it out so Mason can see her own surprised face.

“Wait wait, Uncle Donald has a kid?” Louie finally snaps out of his surprise, peering at her over his dinner plate, “When did that happen?”

“About fifteen years ago.” Jessica jokes, nudging Donald with her elbow playfully.

Mason doesn’t quite catch Scrooge frowning but she can sort of tell he’s not happy, “It’s nice to meet you, lass.” his smile is tense.

At that, Jessica claps her hands together, “Well, it seems like you all might need some time to process! We’ll go ahead and get out of your hair.”

“Let me walk you out!” Donald insists, walking along with them as they leave his flabbergasted family behind. Once they reach the car, there’s a moment where they all just stand around, obviously not sure how to end this interaction. “It’s been wonderful, Mason.” Donald says sincerely, “Would you mind if I gave you a hug?”

On other adults, Mason would have felt obligated, but with Donald it really did feel like she could have said no if she wanted to. “I’d like that.” She says honestly, jumping forward to lean into his embrace. He rubs her back and sighs happily, releasing her after a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks.

He nods, “Tomorrow.”

“Mason, could you start the car? I’d like to talk to Donald for a moment alone.”

Grabbing her keys, Mason nods, getting into the passengers side and cranking the engine. She turns the radio off, leaning over to press her head to the window so she can hear what they’re saying. She jumps when Mom taps loudly on the window, rolling it down sheepishly.

“No eavesdropping! Turn the radio back on.” Mason groans but compiles, spacing out and staring up at the stars as pop music muffles whatever her parent were talking about. Jessica finally leans over to give Donald a quick hug, pulling away and resting her hands on his shoulders as she says her final piece. She squeezes his shoulder and smiles, finally pulling away. He retreats up the stairs, standing there as Mom gets into the car. He doesn’t go inside until they pull away.

“What’d you two talk about?” Mason prods.

“Nosey!” Jessica teases, staring at the road, “It was nothing, just boring mandatory adult small talk.”

Mason hums in response, resting her head against the passenger side window as they pull out of McDuck’s driveway. “…He’s really okay with us coming back tomorrow?” she asks softly.

“Yeah, Honey Bee,” Jessica matches her tone, “He’s so excited to know you.”

Mason smiles, “I’m excited to know him too.”

#sugarfr0g #mason duck #jessica quackmire #ducktales oc #my writing

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ghostmartyr · 5 years

Text

Pokémon FireRed Nuzlocke [Part 12]

Can we beat the game using Nuzlocke rules and only battling against trainers?

The current answer is leaning towards no. Still, we shan’t give up or in.

Four badges in. Next stop?

Uh. Haven’t decided yet.

So things did not go what I would call according to plan with the Grimer. Ideally, it would have been a higher level than 30. It wouldn’t need me to hold its hand through a bunch of leveling. It would immediately be an asset. Life would be beautiful. Nothing would hurt.

Only it’s level 30.

I have a Ground, Water, Electric, and Normal Type in rotation. Grass has historically been a problem, but it is much less of a problem with a Snorlax. Oak isn’t always the most useful, but he’ll be receiving a huge power boost come Surf collection.

Bark and Trunk are going to be wanting all the Attack EVs I can feed them. Sap is going to want Attack as well. And HP.

Its move pool is a huge plus, and I would be happy to have it available, but to make it available, a lot of switch training would have to happen. When Sprinkle went through that, experience gain dropped to a slow crawl. Sprinkle was only level 25, and at an even later stage in the game, but the approach taken with this round was intended to be geared towards a minimum of pokemon.

Other things to consider would be that in the first run, I lost two pokemon, and a lot of work went into making up for that. The two runs can’t be compared fairly with what levels to expect further down the road. ...I. think.

By the first Elite Four fight, Po was level 46. My highest level pokemon was 49.

It did not go well.

I need this one to go better.

Does it go better with Sap, or does it go better with maxing the heck out of the other four.

I really, really want to use Sap.

Having a status-reliant choice instead of a pure powerhouse makes me more comfortable with everything else. Minimize is good. Screech is welcome. Sludge Bomb is welcome. Acid Armor is welcome. Muk is a kickass thing to have available.

But I’m not sure splitting the exp is going to do me any favors this late in the game. Silph offers a lot of lenience, I guess, but. Cycling Road is going to go to Trunk. So is a lot else, and what doesn’t should help out Bark.

Five pokemon starts to be a lot.

Fuck.

I’m trying it out.

Sap, welcome to the team. Don’t die.

In happier news...

Good job making it this far, buddy.

Route 16, what are we catching here today?

Doduo!

Sap, prove your worth by failing to kill it.

Damn it, Sap. +123 to you and Bark. -_-

Siiiiiigh. I need 30 pokemon for the Itemfinder.

Now Trunk is just going to claim. As much of Cycling Road as possible. Bark will help when possible. ...Or do I want to go deal with Silph? Hey, past me, wtf is the best way of doing this nonsense?

..hm.

I’m going to do Silph for the sheer heck of it, I think. I don’t want to get as far as my Rival yet, but. I don’t know. I’m just not feeling Cycling Road right now. Video games are supposed to be fun, right? Let’s chase some damn fun.

And I don’t think I ever got my Route 7 thing. Let’s do that, too. Hi Growlithe.

SAP WHAT THE HECK. WE WANTED THAT.

Did I misremember how much damage Sludge does???

...

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

I very much did.

...+130 to Sap and Acorn. -headdesk-

With that in mind, actually, Sap, you and Bark want to try your hands on the dojo next door to Sabrina? Trunk can’t touch any of those guys thanks to the Super Effective problem.

..And Bark can barely touch any of them thanks to her low Defense.

Yeeeeeah, after that short experiment, we’re just gonna go straight to Silph. Where the Rockets are not a thing to be too afraid of.

Beautiful building.

Hellscape place.

...

I don’t wanna do this, either. Uh. South of Lavender, maybe?

Out of order ALL the things.

Route 13, let’s catch a thing.

The thing is a Venonat! We now wait and watch to see if it will end up dead like other recent catches for totally unpreventable reasons.

Caught!

Its name is Oak.

Route 14, in the middle of all these trainers we’re beating down largely out of order.

...Gloom’s technically not viable because Oddish and species clause, but screw it, it’s not going to be used, I’m too lazy to look up what else is here, and I just want this part done and over with. I know that’s really bad form. but. I am not a rules lawyer. once, maybe. not anymore.

Caught. Its name is Oak.

So far with trainers, the way I’m keeping my sanity with exp division is that the Bikers go to Trunk, and Bark and Sap get the Bird Keepers.

It is slow and tiresome. I do not care for thinking when I am playing my video games.

We’re in Route 18 now, and doing the same nonsense to a Raticate. This is it. This is the point. This is where I stop caring about any of the rules except the no grinding thing. Everything else is irrelevant.

Bark ffs. Stop. Sigh.

+414 exp. Route 18 officially dead.

(Also, this looks like I should have known that she would kill it, but Bark still knows Mud Slap. It does as much nothing as anything on my team can. Still not enough nothing when critical hits are involved.)

Good Rod get so that Fuchsia might have a happier ending.

Back in the realm of completely legal catches, we have a Poliwag!

Throwing a Great Ball proves the best strategy. In that it works. Poliwag get! Its name is Oak.

In other, trainer-related news, Sap hits 34 and learns Acid Armor.

We have also cleared out the section of trainers that is not Saffron and not Cycling Road that comes pre-Koga. Naisu.

-time passes-

So, post-Cycling Road, Trunk is level 41, Bark is level 42, Sap is 35, Oak is 37, and Acorn is 40. I think what makes the most sense in terms of safety is to go clear out the Silph building, then deal with the dojo and assorted Gyms.

Unfortunately.

I hate Silph Co.

So, so deeply.

Deep breath time.

Oh, wait, I want Oak to have Surf first. Never mind, we can still delay this party!

Let’s do it.

Hey, and while we’re at it, we have a chance at a Parasect!

-gasp-

We caught it!

Its name is Oak.

I don’t remember if it was me or someone I knew, but as a child, I have distinct memories of the timer flat-lining just a handful of squares away from talking to this guy. It filled me with enough sadness that I think maybe I was the one having the issues.

The Safari Zone is a lot harder when you have no idea what you’re supposed to do or where you’re meant to go.

Oak learns Surf!

We also give the Warden his teeth back, so Strength get.

I’m gonna see about catching a Route 19 thing. Due to it being something I can do that doesn’t involve the Silph building.

Yes, a Krabby. As we learned from Heero’s run, they make for excellent HM slaves.

Caught!

Its name is Oak. Sadly, I think it will be replacing Oak in the party.

Sigh.

I think we’re. back to the sad part.

(Route 17 option: Doduo. Status: caught. Name: Oak.)

UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

Granted, it’s much easier without having to record every single fight, but the memories of the most recent time I did this are harsh and painful and I don’t like them.

Several floors later, yeah okay, this isn’t so bad.

I still hate it.

However, I can safely say I know who the best character in the Pokemon multiverse is.

Best. Girl.

She’s on floor 9, future self. Sorry about your life.

Because there are so many vitamins hidden around the building, I’m starting to really panic about how my team is going to handle the final parts of the game. I of course love all my children equally, but losing the first team was rough, and I can’t imagine that I’ll continue to engage with my pokemon on any level if things consistently fall to pieces in the very last sequences.

In a funny way, I think the EV training I’m softly tripping through might be hampering things a little. The balance is more sideways than my usual in-game teams have, because I’m focusing a lot on who’s fighting what. There are no random bursts of Defense being distributed, for instance. Oak is the closest to balance, and that’s because Oak had to do most everything before we had a real team (no offense buddy, you rock).

I don’t know. I’m paranoid. Things did not go well with Heero and friends. I think I want to invest in some of the X [stat] items, you know, like the way of the speedrunner, but the way I usually play these games involves brute force.

Full stop.

I can’t repeat enough how little I enjoy thinking in my video games.

But what that means is that I’m not used to using X items. And spending a turn on something I haven’t spent years of background noise thinking about could have disastrous consequences.

The disaster is something I fear. Clearly.

Sigh. There’s not helping it right now, so. Silph.

LOOK MAN, CONSIDERING THE NUMBER OF TRAINERS I HAD TO BEAT TO GET UP HERE

I kind of love that your Rival doesn’t appear to do anything at all about Team Rocket. He just shows up because hey, Red will be doing the hero stuff over there! Time to throw down!

Then he loses and just goes back to worrying about his League quest.

He’s almost like a real ten-year-old.

Acorn thank you for existing.

Wait. Crap, what deals with the Venusaur? Did I decide to just throw Trunk at that? Because that’s what I’m doing?

Yeah, fine, that works.

I got a Lapras.

Its name is Oak.

Sprinkle, I miss you.

Oh whoops. Acorn’s still in front. I don’t think I want that.

Kangaskhan without a Fighting Type is weird. Not a problem weird, because yay, Trunk exists. But weird. I keep expecting to have something super effective against it.

One Master Ball for me. Yay.

Now off to the dojo.

Where I’m going to try not to get Sap killed by letting him have this fight for great exp. I trust Sap’s moves. I trust the concept of their usefulness. Then I see critical hits and tragedy everywhere.

Sap.

Do not die.

Does my hat look black to you.

Level 37 Hitmonlee.

You know. I have the post that says this involves a level 37 Hitmonlee open in another tab. And yet. This still comes as a horrible shock and my brain is already playing taps for Sap.

The pain of one Hi Jump Kick. Not bad. I think we might make it, little guy.

We won!

And no one died!

Yay!

I guess that means it’s time for Koga.

Boo. But we’ll let Trunk punch through. Maybe with Bark, too.

Or Oak can eat a Kadabra. That works.

Trunk makes it through all the pre-Koga peeps with little trouble, and we move on to the man himself.

-gasp-

Awesome. More awesome is how everyone’s still alive. Oh happy day before we go forth and fight Sabrina.

Toxic get.

Trunk is level 46, as seen above. Bark is 44. Acorn is 42. Oak is 41. Sap is 37.

Oak’s job is to eat Sabrina. With any luck, Oak will continue to be a help with Blaine, though Bark and Sap will want some of that sweet exp too.

...Basically, what this all means is that I’ve stopped worrying about most of what’s going on with my team. I’m now just watching the levels and letting my dread run the show.

Dread and Oak. The dream team. Oak’s hit 44. I have faith.

.....Ooookay things are going awry because a Calm Minded Alakazam packs a wallop with Psychic, so I’m switching in Acorn under the assumption that he can survive one Psychic and will outspeed the thing.

Pictures taken just before disaster, fyi.

Houston, we have a problem.

Trunk wraps things up.

But. Uh.

Gyarados damage control is gone.

Acorn is gone.

What even is life without Acorn.

That critical hit would have been the end of Oak. Your oldest friend. I know we both wanted things to go differently, but I’m sure you understand why this is the end result.

I will miss you.

So much.

The lack of your warm presence will be a loss for us all.

I also no longer have something on my team with Thunderbolt, so. The script is no longer clear. I guess I can be less worried about levels, but. This right here might be the end of this round.

With a heavy heart, we head to the oceans where Acorn should have reigned supreme.

And stop Sap from evolving so he can learn Sludge Bomb at 43. Hopefully doing that won’t lead to another unfortunate accident, but if it does happen, I’m sadly resigned to it.

I don’t know how many times Sap has hurt himself in confusion in this fight, but it’s too many.

Then the Tentacruel comes in when this is finally over, and Sap hurts himself in confusion.

Yeah.

Sap’s just eating every single confusion problem of the entire run. He’s taking it all for himself.

But. we. get. through. it. As a family.

Hit Route 20, and now I have a level 8 Tentacool. Its name is Oak.

Supersonic is hitting everything and it is absolutely miserable.

Seafoam Island gives us.... Golbat! Apparently we already had a Zubat, so whoops, but in any case, its name is Oak. And needs to be moved from the D E A D box because whoops.

Does Oak want to learn Fly and help greatly with things not being awful?

Boy howdy do I.

And I am at 30 pokemon in my Pokedex, so it’s time for me to go grab my Itemfinder and Leftovers.

...Oh. Golbat doesn’t learn Fly. Well fine then. Another Oak will help me.

After all.

He is

Oak’s Aide.

Got one Leftovers. Two Leftovers. Awesome.

-many minutes later-

Sap gets Sludge Bomb! Do you know what that means?

Sap! We’ve done it! We’ve kept you alive! You’ve made it through your trying times as a Grimer!

Now let’s go into that non-haunted mansion that makes up most of Blaine’s island’s real estate.

I’m just going to shove Bark in front and. idk. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m just waiting for Victory Road, the day of reckoning, and. Maybe better than last time.

Growlithe caught in the mansion. Its name is Oak.

Secret Key get.

Blaine, why must you be so sketchy.

Okay, so for this Gym, I think I’ll be using Sap more than expected. Bark and Oak will deal with a lot of Giovanni, because they don’t have to worry about Ground really causing an extra problem. That makes this a better place for Trunk and Sap to level up. Agreed?

Yeah sure, whatever.

I guess the other thing to consider is if Bark will really be a help in this endeavor.

She’s very, very fast, and will learn Earthquake naturally. But she can’t take a hit, and with the loss of Acorn, I’m thinking what I have to do is just have Trunk, Oak, and Sap tank everything; lots of X items, lots of Full Restores.

Most of the time, Bark can’t afford to take a second hit of anything.

If I really want to optimize, Cutting down to three out of my four might be the better call.

Ugh, that’s such a dangerous number, though.

Sap has an amazing move set. I really could just...

Lorelei, Bruno, Agatha, Lance, Rival.

Trunk could probably handle Lorelei. Sap could do the Fighting half of Bruno, and the other half isn’t really a problem. The plan with Agatha was always to teach Po Shadow Ball, but then Zaft needed Thunderbolt, so I couldn’t afford it. Lance is hell, but not one a Dugtrio is likely to improve by much.

I have no idea what to do for Oak.

But if I can set Sap up, a lot of problems become manageable. I can’t brute force this. I keep saying that, and I keep ignoring it because that’s not how I play these games. I need better strategies. Bark’s Attack stat isn’t up to being a glass cannon. She’s a glass rifle, maybe. Fantastic, but eating up resources without serving an extra purpose. She’ll be just as dead in two hits if I keep on giving her exp. Leveling could remove that weakness, but I don’t have anything to work with there.

I have to focus on three.

Damn it.

For now, let’s finish Blaine, shall we.

Got the badge.

Bill Gaiden?

So he says.

So ends the post, because I just can’t.

#Pokemon #Nuzlocke #Nuzlocke Challenge #playthrough

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years

Text

Still plotting away SCSI

Eren didn't remember anything about what Isabel and Levi talked about, only that Isabel was gone now... when he really needed a friend. Olou had succumbed to his wounds. Despite Hanji's best efforts, he still passed away... and all the kind words towards him now sat heavily in his gut. He'd been so sure that Olou would survive. He'd fought hard, hanging on for over a week but infection had set in, his condition spiralling after that. Tonight everyone was drinking in "celebration" of the memory of those that had been lost. Not up for the company, Eren had swiped a couple bottles of the stuff the officers had been drinking, and holed up in his room. But the more he drank, the worst he felt. It was like some massive abyss had opened inside of him, sucking all the happiness from the world with it. He was on his second bottle before his friends found him, having swiped their own bottles of booze. Though his room was far too small, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Mikasa, Armin and Krista were all there with him now. A few other recruits had somehow managed to end up there too. While the company was kind of nice, no one actually understood. He'd respected Olou. He was a crucial part of the team, and now he was gone forever. It wasn't fair. Olou deserved to live. Not like him... As the night slipped away his friends gradually left, due to the fact Levi's room was so close to his. More than a little drunk, he didn't even know what he was doing or saying, only that he didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. He wanted someone to want him and to care about him... if it was just for the night. Laying back on his bed, he felt the weight shift as some climbed in next to him. With his eyes still closed, lips ghosted against his as if he'd voiced his need for contact outloud. Not caring who it was, he kept his eyes closed and gave up, the kissing slowly growing more heated until the pair of them were grinding up against each other, Eren panting for more as they fumbled each other's pants open, at least it was a guy... that was something... palming at his partner's erection, he mewed as his own fisted roughly. He needed more. He wanted this empty feeling filled, bucking their hips up against each other, he was so close when they were interrupted "What the fuck do you two think you're doing?!" The kiss was broken, the warm body pulled away from him by Levi of all people "Are you shitty brats seriously drunk?! You. Get out!" There was a mumbled "Yes, sir", before the thud of stumbling steps left the roof "Are you serious?" Panting, Eren couldn't care less if Levi could see his tenting erection. If Levi liked to interrupt his "fun", then he could see what he was missing "What does it even matter?" "What do you mean, "What does it matter?". Your body isn't normal. You can't just let someone between your legs because you're sad" "Whatever" "Eren..." "What the fuck do you expect me to do?! If... if I'd done better or been better, Olou might have survived! Now he's dead! I hate this! I hate being this monster! I hate it!" Breaking down into sobs his whole body shook, finally he curled into himself as he screamed into his pillows "I hate this! I hate it!" "Eren..." "Don't say my name! Don't say it like you care! No one fucking cares!" There was a snarl, then Eren was being lifted from his bed "Olou died. He died and it's fucking shitty, but we all tried our hardest to save him. Hanji gave her everything. Petra stayed by his non-stop. We're all fucking hurting" "I'm so tired of hurting" "We all are" Levi carried him from his room, the walk was short before he was lowered back down again "Stay still, you can't sleep like that" For a second Eren's heart leapt, before he realised what Levi meant. Stripping off his pants and boots, Levi then covered him with his blankets "S-sir?" "I'm not going to leave you alone tonight" Passing out in his captains bed, Eren had no idea things were going to be worse once morning came. * Flustered, Levi watched Eren sleeping in his bed. He'd walked in some heavy petting, after catching Eren's scent in the hallway, and damn near imploded on the spot. With his legs spread, Eren and the male Corps member were in their own world, clumsily and sloppily palming at each without caring about the fact the door was wide open. He felt... enraged. Enraged that someone else was touching Eren. And betrayed by his emotions because he knew how badly he wanted to kill the kid touching Eren. They hadn't talked much since Isabel had possessed Eren, but the kid had done all his duties faultlessly. He'd thought he was ok, but Olou's death was hitting all of them hard. Saying goodbye was never nice. But perhaps because he'd spoken to Isabel, the pain wasn't exactly what he'd thought it would be. Olou had died with Petra by his side. Knowing he was loved and respected, and that his body would find its way back to his family. Levi had hoped to talk to Eren, but the brat had passed out on him before he could. Waking Eren, the boy looked like shit. Yawning softly as he crawled from Levi's bed with a small whine "What happened?" "You had a bit too much to drink last night, but I don't have time to fill you in on the particulars" "I... don't think I like alcohol" "You should definitely stay away from it. We need to get you showered and down to Hanji" "What? Why don't to Hanji?" "During yesterday's wake, we have two government officials arrive. They want to run tests again" Eren's already pale face lost its remaining colour. The teen clamped a hand to his mouth as he rushed to the bathroom, his sound of wretching summing up Levi's feelings on the matter entirely. The two officials had already made themselves at home in Hanji's office, Hanji having been evicted to the hallway where she playing with pony tail nervously. Clearing his throat to give her the heads up that they were approaching, the woman pushed herself away from the wall with her foot "Eren! I'm so sorry. I didn't know they were coming" "Not so loud Hanji. He discovered the delights of alcohol last night" "Ooooh! Is he having his first hangover? I hope you've made him drink plenty of water" "No. I thought I'd just shove him into your office without anything to eat or drink" "Levi!" "He's joking Hanji..." Truthfully, he'd tried to make Eren eat and drink something, but the boy had nibbled on some bread before deciding he couldn't eat "Do you know what they have planned for him?" "No. I'm not allowed to see any of their test results or even be present. Also, Erwin was looking for you" "For me, or for Eren" "For you" Shuffling past him, Eren let Hanji pull him into a hug "You should go see Erwin, I'll be ok" "Eren, you don't have to put up with this. You can demand they stop at anytime. Or call for me, or Erwin. You don't deserve to go through everything alone" "It'll be fine... I'll be fine. Where am I going?" "They're waiting in my office" "Ok... I guess I'll see you both later" The kid looked like a kicked puppy as he let go of Hanji, the look making Levi wish he could steal him away from the pain to come, but apparently Shitty Eyebrows wanted him. Staying long enough for Eren to disappear from his sight, Levi then turned to leave "Let me know the moment they release him" "Will do. I'm worried though. His next heat..." "You're worried they'll send him into heat early?" "Yes. There's a house Erwin wants Eren to use for his heats, but if he goes into heat here... There's nothing prepared" "Make a list of what you think he'll need. I'll take care of it once I've talked to Erwin" "I don't think he'll give you permission to act alone" "I don't care what he wants. We both know Eren's going to be tortured again, and we both know he won't be fit to return to active duty immediately" "Oh! So you're going to take him down to the house?" "Sometimes I wonder how someone so smart, can take so long to catch on" "Did you just admit I was smart?! Aww, Levi! Come here" Flipping Hanji off, Levi stormed away before she hug him. He didn't understand why she always had to be like this. Couldn't she just not make a big fuss about these things? Levi's lack of sleep had his legs aching as he marched along the hall to Erwin's office. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, most over the guilt he felt over leaving Eren in the Governments hands. Reaching Erwin's door, he knocked light and let himself in "Levi. Come in" Raising his arm, Levi shook his head "I'm not hungry. Hanji said you wanted to see me?" "I have a mission for you" "For me? Or for Eren and I?" "Eren will not be available until after his heat" "What? Why?" "The Government has been working on a potential suppressant. If all goes well, his heat won't happen at all" "They found a way to stop them?" "Potentially. As I said, I have a mission for you and for the rest of the squad" "We just Olou" "I know, and as unfortunate as it is, we can't delay" "What about Eren? What if he shifts?" "I've been assured he will be sedated, not killed" Because that was going to work... not... "Levi, we can't afford for you to sit this one out. There was recently reports of intelligent werewolves, other than Eren. Naturally, as this information has come second hand from individuals in the Underground, we don't expect it to be accurate, yet we're on official warning over Eren's actions" "They're using the fact he shifted and saved lives to make you chase after your own tail again" "We aren't in a position to say no" "That's why Eren's off being tortured again, and we're rubbing our noses in the lap of the Government like a bitch in heat" "Levi. None of us want this for Eren. If though Hanji removed his womb, he still goes into heat and I know I don't have to remind you how problematic that is" "And what if does go into heat? What if I'm sent into whatever that was again" "Hanji is calling it a blood rut. You were consumed with both the need for blood and to breed" "It sounds fucking disgusting" "Take it up with her. I've prepared extra vials for your trip" "If I'm going that far, I'm going to need money" "What for?" "Information isn't free. I'm not going to get anything out of anyone without a generous amount of money. Besides, Hanji needs supplies" "I'll need a full report for reimbursement. Receipts too" "I know how to do this, but you're not going to be getting receipts from the underground" Slowly opening his bottom drawer, Erwin pulled out a coin pouch, throwing it on the table with a sigh "Take whoever you need. Petra might wish to visit her family" "Will we be escorting Olou's body?" "No. He will escorted separately" "She should be with him. She knows the family. I'll take both Eld and Gunther. The three of us will we enough" "You have my permission to embark once prepared" Erwin offered his arm again, Levi walking across the room to take it in his hands, his teeth sliding into Erwin's arm "Drink what you need" If he did that, Erwin would be drained. Maybe he should just drain his commander anyway? They'd hardly been acting like the friends they were supposed to be... he wasn't entirely innocent, but even this mission felt like something thrown together to seperate him from Eren. Though that may have been his own paranoia. * The Underground never changed, it was still the shitty cesspool he remembered it to be. The streets were clogged with rubbish, the drains all blocked and the aqueduct running through the middle of the place was choked with rubbish and river weeds, while its water was an unhealthy green. Nothing ever changed here, and nothing ever would. No one had the strength of will to rise above and any who were idiotic enough to think they could change things, were the first to find a knife in the back. Their bodies would be picked clean, clothes and all, before being left to rot like a pile of trash, that even their family disowned. With all things laid so open, there was little wonder why Eld and Gunther were both armed to the teeth. They'd arrived in the Underground four days prior, and despite having spent a generous amount of Erwin's money, all they'd learnt was their were still people stupid enough to try their luck outside the walls. Honestly, Levi wanted to wash his hands on all of this and return the castle, as all he could think was that Eren was being tortured while he was in a hell of his own, but Eld and Gunther were persistent and insistent. They'd covered over half the usual dives, and Levi was absolutely sure they weren't about to hear anything magically useful. Still, here they were at another one. Levi somehow locked in a glaring contest with the bar keeper, who had nothing to say to a dog of the military. Even if pulling a knife had brought him up short, the man was staying tight lipped "Do you, or do you not know anything about recent werewolf attacks" Spitting in his face, the man laughed openly. With a fluid move, Levi pinned the man's left hand to bar, cutting off his little finger with a satisfying ting when the blade hit the metal of the bar "Remember anything yet" "I ain't got nothing to tell you!" Screaming it now, Levi rolled his eyes as he hefted a sigh "Then who does" "Ke-nny. He's the one shooting his mouth" "Kenny?" "The reaper" "He's dead" "No he ain't!" "I killed Kenny with my own hands. Whoever that is, it's not Kenny" "He calls himself Kenny!" Whimper pathetically, Levi released his hand. The man pulling it up to his chest "I suggest you give me some real information if you want to keep all the rest of your fingers" "I don't got anything else to say! You know what it's like here! Without rumours, this place would be too boring to stomach" "So you're saying everything werewolf related is a joke?" "Them up there were talking about it" "And Kenny?" "He's the one who goes out the walls!" Whatever this man had been drinking, it was clearly killing off whatever was left in the braincell department. He probably couldn't wipe his own arse. So much for the bravado he'd tried to portray. With his ruined reputation, this place would probably be looted and burnt to the ground by the end of the night "You're lucky I don't take another finger for wasting my time" "Sir?" "We're leaving. There's nothing here" "What about Kenny?" "He's long gone. You're free to stay if you really want" Returning to sunshine, it felt like his skin was trying to shed it outer layer. The filth attached its self within seconds of stepping foot down there, and it felt like no matter how many times he scrubbed, he'd never be clean. As Eld and Gunther split off from him, Levi returned to the room he was using at the Military base, impressed to find the supplies he'd requested had already been delivered. Most of them were for Eren, and to stock the house he'd used for his future heats. The blankets, pillow and soap he already purchased sat almost forgotten in the corner of his room. He'd taken his time on the first day at the Capital to make sure he'd have the money to buy Eren nice things... nicer things. Things the kid would like and would help to assure him that he was indeed human. He wasn't going to stay with the kid for his heat, but he could make sure Eren was doing better mentally before he entered it. An hour later the clothes he'd been wearing were in the trash, a fresh uniform felt almost like heaven in comparison to those disease riddled things. Sitting on his bed, he was checking his correspondence. There was nothing of real interest. Erwin had sent a letter saying Eren was still being held, but he hadn't shifted. Olou's body had been returned to his family and Petra was taking a weeks leave. The woman would be rendezvousing with them at the end of the week... meaning he was now stuck for another 2 days. Fucking Shitty Eyebrows and fucking Petra. And fuck the bartender for bringing up Kenny. If he could forget the man, he would in a heartbeat... He could just picture Kenny's smug face when he came face to face with whoever had taken up his name. That creepy smile. The laugh. The double tap to heart for insulting him. Everything about the man had revolted him and maybe that was why he was half tempted to track down whoever was using his name. Just to see the difference with his own eyes. Sighing to himself, he forced himself off the bed and over to the desk, he needed to pen a reply back to Erwin. With next to nothing to do, the next two days passed exceedingly slowly. His presence had brought out the weirdos of the Military base, many of them wanting to ask his advice. Eld and Gunther had both found it funny until he'd starting sending them pair of them to answer any all questions, filling their schedules to the point where his own was empty. The only thing of any importance that he'd accomplished in those two days was picking up a few nice tins of black tea, and new fine china cup. * Petra talked almost nonstop during the ride back to the castle. The woman in much higher spirits than expected, leaving him wanted to yell at her to shut up. Erwin hadn't replied to his last message, and fucked up dream about Kenny had left him feeling on edge. Next time, Erwin could send someone else to the Underground, because it had been a colossal waste of his time. He could have literally been watching paint dry and it would have been more enjoyable, not to mention he wouldn't have had to destroy a set of clothes of it. Nudging his heels, his horse broke into gallop, the wind feeling refreshing as it chased the last lingering scents of septic from his nose. Fuck the Underground. Having dropped back to trot, Petra moved to his side again. The woman frowning at him as if he'd done something wrong "Sir?" "What is it?" "Eld and Gunther mentioned Eren was being experimented on again. Do you think he'll be ok?" "No" "No, you don't?" "No. I'm expecting it to be a shit storm when we get home" "Do you know what they're doing to him?" "They have some procedure that is supposed to stop his heat" "Is that safe?" "How am I supposed to know?" "It's just... Eren is such a kind kid" "He's certainly worked his way into your heart" "He gave everything he could to try and help Olou. I wish I knew how to thank him" "Like that" "Like what?" "Eren's pretty thick. If you want to thank him, than you actually have to use the words" "He seemed annoyed the last time I thanked him" "The fact you did so 8 times had nothing to do with it" "Maybe. I still wish I could give him something" "If you really want to give him something, just say thanks and leave it at that. And whatever you do, don't got giving him anything alcoholic" Petra giggled, covering her mouth with her hand "You could have been handled that situation better" "He told you?" "No, you scared the hell out of the soldier he was with. The poor guy was running down the hall with his pants around his ankles" Levi wished he'd seen that, instead he been too focused on the fact that someone other than him had been touching Eren, then forcing the kid to spend the night sleeping in his bed, attempting to erase the shitty smell of the unknown man's arousal "He had it coming" "Eren's body might be different, but you could have left them alone" "And what if he bit his lip and shifted, or what if he'd had a panic attack and shifted?" "I'm pretty sure if being interrupted by you didn't upset him, nothing would" "The kid was wasted. He pretty much passed out as soon as his pants and boots were off" He sounded way too bitter for it to be passed off as simple annoyance "Do you think they'll become something more?" "It was just a drunk hook up" "With his friend" "Wait? He knew the guy?" That... that... Levi didn't have a word for exactly how he was feeling over this. Drunk and random hookups were pretty common, but hooking up with someone you knew and someone you were friends with. It was more than petty jealousy that was causing his heart to race, his chest to tighten and his reins to snap in his hands. It was something vile and evil. "I don't know the boy's name, I've seen him with Armin and Mikasa before, so perhaps they'd know. Do you think they're together? Maybe he'd like to spend Eren's heat with him?" "It was just a fucking hook up. There's nothing there and no one will be spending Eren's heat with him. If you have that much free time on your hands to dribble this shit, fall back and check on Eld and Gunther" Fuck. Fucking Eren. This was what the shitty brat did to him. He ruined his carefully constructed facade and reputation in a manner of minutes. Stroking the base embers of his desires into an inferno... without even being into the same space as him. Rather than looking hurt, Petra just shook her head with another giggle, shooting him a knowing look before dropping back to the supply cart. Fuck. By now, the only person Levi was kidding... was himself. * Leaving the purchases that were to be taken to the house in the cart, Levi forced himself to help put everything away, as an excuse to settle his nerves before seeing Eren. Given the castle was still standing, and no one looked particularly worried, Eren couldn't have shifted into his Lycan form. At least something had gone right. Skipping his debriefing with Erwin, Levi headed down to Hanji's office. The walls were all still standing, which he again took as positive sign. With a light knock on her door, he let himself into her office, finding it devoid of Government Scientists and Hanji in the middle of scribbling something down as if her life depended on it "Really Shitty Glasses. I come back and you can't even manage a hello?" Looking up, Hanji blinked at him as if only just coming back to reality "Levi!" Pushing herself back from her desk, Hanji rushed around it before throwing her arms around him "Uh... Hanji?" "I didn't think you were coming back until Sunday" "It is Sunday" "Oh... Oh Shit!" Flying back from the hold, Hanji grabbed her notebook. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, Levi found himself being dragged from the room "I've got to check on Eren" "I thought he'd be here" "He's back down in the dungeon" "What? Why?" "It's a long story. Basically he reacted badly to whatever they gave him and he bit one the scientists. They wanted to chain him up, but I managed to get them to agree to confine him in the dungeon again" "He bit one of them?" "He was only in his wolf form, so it wasn't even that bad" "I'm pretty sure being bitten by a wolf isn't something that can be written off as "not bad"" "It was a tiny little bite on the man's wrist. His teeth didn't even break the skin" "And they wanted him chained up for that?" "Yeah. I shouldn't be surprised, he's been sick since the first day they got him" "What did they do?" "Injected him with something that's supposed to stop his heat. When it didn't give the results they wanted, they pumped up the dose. His body couldn't keep up with it, and he started bleeding internally. Whatever they gave him messed with his healing" "Is that even possible?" "Yep. The worst bit is, his body burnt through whatever it was too fast for me to get a sample of it. His blood work came back completely clean" "If he's clean, why isn't he healing?" "I don't know" "What does Erwin have to say about it all?" "Just to keep him notified. You haven't seen him yet?" "No. Not yet" "Aww you came to see Eren first..." Smacking Hanji, the woman pouted "That's not nice" "You brought it on yourself" "Nope. Totally didn't. I think Erwin's been down to see him, but he's pretty groggy" Just what the fuck had they done to him this time?! And what kind of business could Erwin possibly have with Eren. Even before Hanji opened the door down to the dungeons, Levi could smell Eren's blood. It's coppery tang was muddied with something less than desirable, yet he couldn't name the offending scent. With a look of disgust on his face, he followed Hanji down "You can smell it too, can't you? His scent's all wrong. He usually smells more dog like, but now it's..." "Disgusting" "That's a little harsh. I was thinking medical?" "Chemical" "Chemical. He smells chemical to you?" "I can still smell blood, but there's something in it..." "I need to write this down, oh. His senses are also a little off, so you'll have to speak softly" "You make it sound like all I do is yell at him" "Our normal tones sound like we are yelling at him, so you would be" Levi sighed. Couldn't they just have one good week? Falling silent for the rest of the walk, Hanji moved ahead of him to open Eren's cell "Eren, its Hanji and Levi. I've come to check on you" "I'm ok" "We both know that's not going to work. How's the bleeding?" Eren was curled on his side with his face hanging off the side of the bed, above bucket. At first the thought the kid had been vomiting, until Hanji moved the lantern closer and he saw the kid's gums were bleeding "I think it's getting better" "Good, that's good. I'm just going to have a little look" While Eren was busy with Hanji, Levi sank down onto the end of the kids bed. Despite his lanky form, Eren had somehow curled up so he was barely taking up a third of the bed "Have you eaten anything?" "Teeth hurt" "Ok. What about drinking water?" "I tried" "Now Levi's back, I'm going to see about getting you a bed in the infirmary, where I can actually monitor your condition" "I'm ok... they said it might be like this" Hanji hadn't told him that? Did Eren tell her? "I know, but you're not in a good way" "You sound like Armin" "Did they come to see you?" "Yeah... Mikasa wanted to yell at Erwin" "Oooh. I wish I'd known that" "Armin talked her out of it. I'm sorry" "It's ok. Maybe next time?" "Don't go encouraging her. Um... if Levi's back, can I shower now? I feel so gross" "That's up to Levi" Hanji silently pleaded with him to agree. Eren had probably tried to hide whatever else was done to him from her, so as not to worry the woman. The kid needed a chaperone, and she was asking him to be it "A bath might be better" "I don't want to make a mess" "You won't make a mess. Do you think Levi would let you?" "No..." "See. Levi's going to help you up, is that ok?" "I'm too dirty" "That's the point of taking a bath, right Levi?" "Yeah. This room is fucking filthy" Eren started to laugh, before dissolving into a fit of coughing "Let's get you up. A hot bath will also help ease some of that congestion" "Hanji, dad was a doctor. I know that" "Oooh. Someone's getting snappy. You're lucky you're so cute" "You're literally the only one who thinks I'm cute" "Levi thinks you're cute" "Don't bring me into this" Eren's coughing slowly subsided enough for Levi to get close enough to lift the kid into his arms. The brat looked like shit, yet somehow managed to shoot him a smile "Sorry, sir. Hanji won't let me walk" "Can you?" "I don't know" "Maybe save the walking until after you've stopped coughing up blood" "Fight me" "I could take you with my eyes closed" "You're not supposed to threaten a sick person" "It wasn't a threat, it was a promise" Eren was doing so much better than Levi had expected. He was able to hold and follow the banter, that Hanji took over as Levi carried him up to his private bathroom. Sitting the brat in the bath, he tugged Eren's blankets away, throwing them at Hanji with a very pointed glare "Right. Eren, I'll just be outside if you need me. Levi's going to help you bath" "You're lucky I'm too sick of feeling gross to say now" "How long's it been since he bathed?" "A week" "Ok. We at burning those blankets and his clothes" "Levi" "That's fucking disgusting!" Eren whimper at his shout, his hands clutching his head "Don't go scaring him" "Then take better care of him" "Hey, they only left on Friday" "That's two days" "Either you both shut up, or you both get out" Hanji failed at turning her laughter into a cough "Didn't you hear him, get out" "Alright, but try to behave yourselves" Helping Eren out his ruined clothes, the teen didn't even seem to care when he was finally naked. Blood and slick covered the kids thin pubes and thighs, more over his arse and more still dribbling from his mouth. There weren't any signs of external wounds, though around his tone nails were black, but that might have just been filth "Hanji's so fucking weird" "What makes you say that?" "She's seen me naked, but she makes you take care of me" "If you shift, it's my job to bring you down" "Oh... I don't think I can shift. I'm so tired" Closing his eyes, Eren rested his head on the side of the bath. Still sporting some puppy fat in his face from youth, Eren's stomach was surprisingly toned, yet his skin was so soft and warm beneath Levi's fingers. He'd by lying if he didn't feel something... an insistent throbbing in his groin was definitely something, but even he wasn't going to act when the kids defences were non-existent. Leaving Eren's crotch for the boy to clean himself, Levi scrubbed the rest of him down, making sure not to press too firmly as it seemed to pain the brat "Eren, can you sit up? I need to clean your hair" With a sleepy hum, Eren slumped towards the wall. Not exactly helping him "Brat" "Sorry, sir" "Just try not to pass out and drown in this shitty water" "Feels good being clean" "You're not clean yet" "Cleaner" "Stop moving" "I'm not" "Yes you are" "I don't feel like I am..." Levi was tempted to call Hanji in, as Eren couldn't stop swaying, but when he poured the jug of warm water over Eren's head, the kid shot up, sitting ramrod straight as he spluttered "What the hell?" "Your hair's filthy" "You tried to drown me" "If I was trying, I would have succeeded" "Mmm. Yeah. You're probably right" Washing Eren's hair it, his hair was just as soft as his wolf's fur. The brat having the nerve to let out rumbling huffs that slowly turned to snores "Hanji, get in here" "You won't want to keep him to yourself" "Don't say it like that. I'm not touching him down there, and he fell asleep before he could clean himself" "Awww are you scared?" "I'm going to get his room ready" "No need! Your bed is right there" "He's sleeping in his own room" "But Levi" "Don't "but" me. You can watch over him there" "I think he'd rather have you" "I don't want his filthy blood all over my bed" "What's going on here?" Whipping from looking at Eren to look to Erwin, both of them hushed him at the same time. Erwin's lips twitched as the man rose an eyebrow "Eren hasn't had a bath in a week, so I had Levi help me out" "And you couldn't have done this somewhere else?" "It's the closest bathroom to his room" "He's supposed to be in the dungeon" "Erwin, he's bleeding nonstop. He's only going to get sick down there. "I'm your commanding officer. You need to clear these things with me. And you Levi, you didn't even report back to me" "I went to inform Hanji that we were back with her supplies" The lie smoothly slid from his tongue as he held his anger back "Then I asked him to help me with Eren. Once he was settled, we were going to let you know" Thanks to Isabel's words, all he could think was that Erwin was being petty and jealous. He knew he wasn't completely unfortunate in the looks department, and that a normal person wouldn't insist on feeding him without getting something out of it, but now... If Erwin was letting his jealousy cause Eren pain, that wasn't something he was ok with "Hanji, can you finish up with Eren on your own? I need to talk to Erwin" "Alright, but I'll need your help to get him out" "Just make sure he's clean" Nudging Erwin out the bathroom, Levi pulled the door closed behind him "What's going on with you?" "With me?" "Cut the shit Erwin. If you've got something to say, say it without you usual games" "Fine. I think you're letting Eren cloud your judgment. You've stopped seeing him a threat" "You're the one letting Eren cloud your judgement. The kid was left in his own filth for the last week. You saw how badly they fucked him up before, but you were happy to lock him up again" "I locked him up for his own safety" Levi scoffed, his glare fierce "Like you sent me away on a completely bogus mission" "You're too close to him" "How? You assigned me to be his partner" "I didn't assign him to you so you could play happy families with him" "Are you serious? Wow. I thought she was full of shit, but wow. You really do have feelings for me, don't you" "And you don't?" "Not the way you want me to" "Bullshit Levi. I..." "You what? You allowed me to feed and I'm grateful for that. But love and feeding, they're too completely different things" "How can you say that? We all know what you're like, but you feed predominantly from me. Of course I'm going to think..." "Do you think I like feeding? Do you think I like never being sated?" "You..." "I never take more than the bare minimum. If I drank like I wanted, you'd be dead. I know you don't want to hear it, but for me, it was never more than a way for you to remind me how indebted I am to you. I considered you my friend. I was grateful you kept my secret, but the way you're treating Eren, it's not ok" "He's a kid!" "Don't you think I know that? There's something in Eren, but he's not the monster you think he is. If he was, he never would have saved everyone" "He's a danger" "He's not a danger" "If he wasn't, I wouldn't have to lock him up!" Levi ground his teeth together, biting down the urge to snap "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means people heard Eren bit a scientist. Whatever goodwill he'd managed to earn, is gone" "He didn't even break the skin" "How do you know?" "Hanji" "Of course" The bitterness in Erwin's tone hurt to hear "Look. I was going to ask permission to take Eren and Hanji down to the house you want to use for his heat. I think we could both use some time apart" Hanji was going to give him hell, but Erwin might have just lost his head again if Levi hadn't thrown her name in "Fine. Leave whenever you're ready" "Once Eren stops bleeding. Hanji says his in a kind of sensory overload" "Make sure she submits a full report on him" "I will. You'll have my report on your desk by tomorrow morning" "Ok..." "Erwin. I am sorry" "Don't. I want to hear it, right now"

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kidneysquid · 7 years

Text

Freak (preview of part 3)

Hello my lovelies!

So sorry for the delay. I am currently in the Quebec providence of Canada on vacation with my family.

I still have my lap top with me but there are a few challenges.

One: I am with my family, and it’s awkward writing into the smutty details with them around (quite the mood killer).

Two: I am skiing and hiking on a daily basis so I don’t have as much time as I’d like to write even though it’s my drug at this point.

Three: Part 1 and 2 were already written when I first posted them, hence why they were so long. While I have over 30 pages worth of drafts and notes on the story, I spend extensive amounts of time editing and rewriting (I have a strange writing process).

I am SO SORRY for how short this is. But I’m honestly debating on just doing posts that are 1,000 to 2,000 words a post to give you guys satisfaction and to give me more time to perfect my chapters.

I know my character (played by Harry) in this is kinda OOC but NOT TO WORRY. He is still his dark demon self. This story will always be dark despite it’s moments of seeming light.

I AM ALWAYS EDITING AND ADDING TO MY CHAPTERS and while have the dates of additions on each post, so I suggest re-reading them if you want :)

Warning: Language and explicit content and triggers

Enjoy!

“Mm…” Soft sheets tickle my cheek.

I know where I am.

I’m home. In my apartment. Jax is purring in his corner of the bed. The white, ‘half dick’ mark splattered on his cute little otherwise black face. Leaning against his white sock paw.

The redolence of honeysuckle incense fills my nostrils.

I forgot that cozy feeling I always get in my bedroom. Filled with all the tapestries and black and white photographs I took in college. My deep purple drapes and light purple sheets.

I open my eyes, and for the first time I’m not upset to see how messy it is. Clothes scattering the floor. The oriental rug tilted to the side. Not an empty space of surface on my desks and drawers.

I always told myself each time I’d manage to get my room clean that I would keep it that way.

It never happens.

I lean up on my right elbow lifting to get up, but something long and heavy keeps me pinned to the bed.

Wait, where did that come from?

I shuffled lightly against comforting sheets. The honeysuckle scent was gone to my chagrin. Just clean, must. Masculine. Light spice.

I twisted my neck hearing it crack. It was laying on something hard. I was on my right side, as always. Thanks to the car accident I was in that destroyed my left shoulder when I was eighteen.

My lids were too heavy when I tried opening them.

The steady hum of Baby Cat’s purrs was replaced by the unmistakable tapping of rain. On the roof and windows.

Rain

My favorite sound in the world.

Car rain in particular.

Even after arriving at my destination, I’d sit in the driver’s seat with my engine turned off and remain engulfed in the comforting pitter-pattering beats bouncing on the roof in steady rhythms.

There was a stale decaying taste in my mouth. When I parted my lips I realized it was the distinct flavor of morning breath.

Really bad morning breath.

I swallowed hearing the familiar pop in my eardrums, unmistakably from clenching my jaw throughout the night.

Ever since I was a little girl I’d always had problems with grinding my teeth in my sleep. The dentists told me if I didn’t wear a mouth guard at night I would ware them down to my gums.

Mom always told me it was from the night terror’s I’d experienced at a young age.

She never believed me when I told her dad was the one who started them. Not intentionally.

They say night terrors mostly occur in those who’ve experienced sexual trauma at a young age.

Dad never meant it though. He didn’t realize that his mistake would fuck me up for life.

But I don’t want to think about that now though.

I groaned wincing at the usual ache of a filled bladder upon waking.

Human bodily functions can be such a bitch sometimes.

Something warm and heavy was circled around my waist. Whatever it was, the fabric of my shirt was damp with a starting layer of sweat under its weight.

Dear Hyperhidrosis: Fuck you.

I finally opened my eyes and my heart stopped. There was a chest with facing swallows beneath the collar bones.

I trailed my eyes. There was something that looked like a cursive lowercase “g” on the front of his shoulder. Then the date “1957” above the end of his right collar bone.

My pulse throbbed in my veins. Frozen sweat trickled my forehead and the back of my neck. I was the fawn that unknowingly fell asleep in the bear’s den. And any movement to sneak out of the cave would surely wake him up.

But in this case, I was in his claws.

I finally lifted my gaze to his face.

He was truly pleasing to look at.

When he wasn’t t talking that is.

When he wasn’t doing anything for that matter.

But when the devil sleeps, he’s peaceful. Unaware of the world of pain and destruction he created.

How can something so horrible be beautiful at the same time? We are taught as children that beauty represents good. But as we grow older we realize it’s often used to mask the evil.

My left arm was folded and squished between our chests. I tried to move away but to my horror realized I was attached to him. My right arm was losing circulation with his weight on top of it. To make it worse, our legs were tangled beneath the sheets.

I always preferred sleeping with a pillow between my legs. It felt great for my lower back. Also a light pool of sweat would tend to form between my thighs when I sleep with my legs together.

No not like that.

Another fuck you to hyperhidrosis.

I tried to move but my arm, numb at this point, wouldn’t budge beneath him.

Fuck.

This is why I’ve never been a good sleeping partner. (Sleep in the literal sense that is.) I always got complaints about how much I move around in my sleep. I was a restless sleeper. My family would even wake up from the resounding hits on the walls.Thanks to my vivid dreams and I would always always always wake up in a position where any non-subtle movement would wake the poor victim sharing the bed with me. Leaving me lying in discomfort. Against heat.

I laid there. Frozen. Watching the steady in and out movements of his chest. His breaths were smooth and tickling my face.

The tensing in my shoulders ached.

I trailed my eyes down the arm snaked around me, biceps lightly budging. Maybe if I could somehow ease it off me then I’d be able to scoot away.

But that would be ignoring the fact my other arm’s still anchored to the bed.

I let out a breath and rested my head back down. Fading scratches trailed down his chest, his shoulders and his upper arm

Good.

He’s not the only one who gets to leave marks.

That’s when I caught the design beneath his sternum on his upper belly. I’d only had a quick glimpse of it, when he took off his shirt before pouncing on me.

I shivered at the memory.

I studied it and to my surprise realized it was an anatomical design of a butterfly.

I’d already known his tattoos were lame, but this one definitely took the cake.

I’ve never seen a dude with a butterfly tattoo before. Not until now. Why the hell would a guy get one?

Breaking gender conventions is always good though.

I always supported it.

It truly wasn’t a bad design though. Finely detailed, actually.I studied the shadings and the intricate lines as it lightly flapped its wings with the inhales and exhales of his breaths.

“Enjoying the view?”

The blood in my veins froze and I looked up. His eyes were open. And they were focused on me to my horror. Observing me drinking him in. The corner of his lip tugged up in a smirk.

Ignoring the pain of my swollen fingers, I pushed my free arm against his chest, moving to get away from him. He tightened his grip and pinned me to him. Easily caging me in his arms.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” he whispered, nuzzling his face in my hair.

At this point I didn’t give a shit if he could smell my putrid breath.

He was the definition of a space invader.

A minute passed.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Mmm..” Something rubbed against my hair. “You can hold it.”

“I’m serious. I really have to go.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

My cheeks began to burn. “I can’t feel my arm.” I tried moving it out from under him.

A light chuckle rumbled against me. “I guess you shouldn’t have wrapped it around me then.”

Oh you fucker-

I wanted to dig my nails and slash into the swallow. But my fucking fingers. Instead, I kept trying to straighten my arm and wiggle my body against him trying to untangle out leg.

His teeth sunk into his lip and he closed his eyes. “Mm… Keep that up baby.” His hand on my waist lowered and tightly gripped my ass before lifting my leg higher on his hip as he grinded himself against my thigh resting between his legs.

Fucking pervert!

“No!” I somehow yanked my arm out from under him and shoved him back with all my might digging the fingers of my right hand in that fucking swallow, kicking my legs out of his and rolling away.

There was a crash and a wail of pain.

Laughter filled the room. “Well good morning to you too, beautiful.”

I stood up from the floor, he was curled up on his side shaking with laughter. Hair extremely disheveled, his fist in front of his face, eyes squeezed shut with wrinkles in their corners and white teeth laughing.

It was reminiscent of a little boy being caught after his prank.

Not knowing what else to do, I gripped a pillow and slammed it on him as screeched:

“Oh FUCK!” Hit! “YOU!” Hit!

He kept laughing harder, nearly cackling as he caught it on the last hit. His body shaking uncontrollably.

Rage burned my eyes and the blood scorching beneath my skin making my face red. How the fact can he be like this?! So nonchalant and carefree after what he did to me?!

Ignoring him, I stomped to the bathroom in the corner slamming the door. I could still hear his laughter in the other room.

I took down my pants, sat on the toilet and had one of the most relieving pisses in my life.

Thank. God.

I reached between my legs and observed my parts. I was significantly less swollen down there, and the ache was beginning to slowly dull.

Good. He hasn’t raped me in my sleep. Not yet at least.

After flushing the toilet, I went to the sink and washed my hands before I brushed my teeth.

How long have I been out for?

I ran my face through cold water. Washing the grogginess out of my eyes before sipping on some water. God I was thirsty.

I looked up in the mirror. The healing of the marks on my face had progressed nicely. Including the bruises on my neck.

But something was missing.

I could see my nipples poking through the grey fabric.

No.

I gripped the hem of my shirt, yanked it up and shrieked.

To my horror, I was not wearing my sports bra. And I distinctly remembered putting it on before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Holding the shirt to my neck, I inspected the condition of my breasts. They were still tender and sore, of course. And were pocketed with yellow fading marks. I wasn’t sure if any of them were new.

Swallowing, I unlocked the door and turned the knob.

He was lying on the bed, torso still bare and tattoos proudly on display. His hands behind his head with his legs crossed (wearing pants thank god) and an infuriating grin on his face.

I looked at the lamp next to the bed, clenching my good fist. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A couple of days now. I kept checking to make sure you were breathing. You were right to only take half of the oxy, otherwise you would probably be dead.”

Shit.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. I looked up and straightened my shoulders. “Why is my bra off?”

“I removed it.”

My eyes lit up and my nostrils flared. “You what?!”

“You were wheezing a little and coughing in your sleep. I figured it was suffocating you.” His gaze lowered. “Besides I can see how it would be... confining for you.”

Oh. No. He. Did. Not.

“You saw my tits while I was unconscious!?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen them before-”

“That’s no excuse to be a pervert!”

“It was to make you more comfortable. I was thinking of your wellbeing. You began breathing fine right after. It was constraining your chest.”

I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my pursed lips. This was very true. Having a DD cup doesn’t exactly go well with sleeping with bras on. Especially sports bras. I’d already read about how bad it is for you to do that on the internet. So in a sense, he did do me a favor.

“I swear to god,” I snarled, curling my upper lip. “If you molested me in anyway-”

“Believe me, darling, you would have woken up.”

I clenched my jaw along with my good fist.

“Don’t worry, it’s right there.” His dimple popped as he pointed to the chair. Sure enough the fabric was neatly folded on it.

My face grew red. I stomped over, snatched it and disappeared in the bathroom slamming the door harder than before.

I reappeared when I was all adjusted.

“I’m hungry.”

#writing #freak #my writing #my work #creative writing #dark content #harry styles fanfction #harry styles smut #though sadly there is no smut in this chapter #but rest assured there will be #skatin #short af

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