#feel free to shoot me a message if there was in fact a way better way to do it

[iiiumihottie]

[Image descriptions available in alt text and under the cut.]

a comic I drew for @late-to-the-magnus-archives' fic This Dark Thing That Sleeps In Me. this one was a doozy, haha! if this interests you, go check it out! this and MANY more wonderful scenes are part of it! :D

[A comic for The Magnus Archives.

Jonah: You like my people, do you not? Martin. Tim. Sasha.

ID: Next to each name is a drawing of the character.

Jon: Yes, very much.

Jonah: I'm glad. I've gone through quite some trouble to assure they were here for you.

Jon: For me?

ID: A drawing of a dark, gothic castle.

Jonah: It's very simple, Jon.

ID: A shot of Jonah and Jon's hands as they stand by railings. Jonah is approaching the railings, Jon's hands are on them.

Jonah: And really, I believe in laying out the stakes for a good game so all can enjoy properly.

ID: Jonah now leans on the railing.

Jon: Game?

ID: Jon looks nervously up towards Jonah.

ID: A drawing of their view of a red sunset over the sea.

Jonah: ...If I die, they die.]

[ellemj]

Insufferable: 12 Days of Smut #2

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: You and Bucky get separated from Sam and Sharon during a mission in Madripoor and are stranded in a motel room until you can get in touch with them again. How do two sworn enemies pass the time?

Warnings: profanity, teasing, fingering, possessive!Bucky, oral sex (male receiving), slight face fucking, female masturbation, unprotected sex, praise, some use of y/n, hate sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: I feel like this one is better than yesterday's but idk. @littlemiss-yeehaw helped me make some executive dialogue decisions and helped keep Bucky as the hot little shit that we all know him to be.

         Power Broker is watching. You’ve read the spray-painted words on the wall a million times now as you stand in the dark alleyway, telling yourself over and over again that picking a fight with Bucky isn’t going to make your current situation any better. Even if it is his fault that you’re miles from where you should be, being chased by god knows how many bounty hunters, and so far from Sharon and Sam that your comms aren’t even working at this point. Fuck it, you’ll pick a fight.

         “Is this how you wanted to spend Christmas Eve?” You spit out the question with as much malice as you can, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the brick wall of some shuttered, probably illegal business. Bucky’s face contorts in annoyance as he lifts his right hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s getting so tired of you tonight. First, you stupidly thought it would be fine for you and Sharon to partner up and head out into Madripoor on your own. Sam and Bucky were quick to snuff out that idea, even though Sharon was fully on board with you. Nobody gives a shit if Sharon used to be the power broker here or if you have more kills under your belt than most other trained assassins on record. Madripoor is lawless, crawling with criminals who will never pay for their sins, and it’s no place for two attractive women to be running around alone. Even if you can both take care of yourselves, why invite conflict by walking around town without either Sam or Bucky as a deterrent? The fact that you didn’t want to walk around with the damn Winter Soldier right behind you was almost insulting. Did you question Bucky’s reputation? Do you not understand how notorious he is in a place like this?

         “With you? No.” Bucky answers with just as much malice as you threw at him.

         “Then you should’ve listened to me and let me and Sharon take the lead.” You scoff. Bucky shoots you an indignant look, but you stare right back at him with your own expression of disdain.

         “I don’t take orders from you.”

         “That’s exactly why we’re in the situation we’re in now.” You mumble the words out just loud enough that he can hear them. He stands a few feet away from you and you watch him as his pulls his phone from a pocket of his tactical pants and begins typing away on it. You imagine he’s texting Sam a message that says something like if you don’t find us in the next two minutes I’m going to kill this girl. What he’s actually doing is searching up the nearest place that rents rooms to lowlifes without asking any questions. He wants the two of you off the street as fast as possible so he can try to get in contact with Torres and find out how to get your comms working again. Until comms are working, you’re basically doing everything blind, and that won’t work for Bucky. Not when he has to worry about three other lives besides his own.

         The cloud of anger swirling around you isn’t quite thick enough to stop you from appreciating the way Bucky looks tonight. He’s dressed in his usual full tactical gear that he wears for most missions, with one unusual change: his vibranium arm is on full display. He picked a top that is conveniently missing the entire left sleeve. You understand why he chose it, knowing how his name and even his arm precedes him. One look at him tonight, at the colorful lights of Madripoor nightlife reflecting off of his dark metal arm, keeps even the most aggressive men here at bay. No one would dare mess with the Winter Soldier, especially not when he’s radiating as much anger as he is right now. Well, no one besides you.

         “I’m not going to keep waiting around here for you to come up with a new plan.” You announce, pushing away from the brick wall and tossing your hair over your shoulder. Bucky looks up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at you. “We know where Sam and Sharon were headed, we can just meet them there.” You start heading for the street at the end of the alley, but just as you brush past Bucky, he grabs your arm roughly and stops you.

         “No, we’re going to get somewhere safe and wait for Torres to fix comms before we do anything.” Bucky’s holding your arm tightly, keeping you just a couple of inches away from him as he looks down at you with a harsh gaze. You shake his grip off but don’t move away from him.

         “What makes you think you get to decide on the new plan?” You ask, leaning in a little closer as the question leaves your lips. You almost let out a laugh when Bucky’s eyes flit down to your where your lips are mere inches from his own. You’ve done this dance with him before. You’ve been in plenty of these tense situations with him, moments in the field where you’re so against each other that you can’t decide if you want to fight him or fuck him. Of course, you’ve always simply fought him in the past. Fucking him was never actually an option, but hell, it sure is satisfying when he does something that lets you know he thinks about it as much as you do.

         “I’ve already decided on the new plan. You can either go along with it or go out and get yourself killed. I’m starting to not really give a shit about what you do.” Bucky retorts. He looks down at his phone again, breaking the intense eye contact that you were sort of enjoying. “There’s a motel two blocks over. I say we go there and wait for Torres to figure out what the hell is wrong with comms.”

         As much as you want to continue defying Bucky, you know it’d be a hell of a trek from here to wherever Sam and Sharon are right now. There’s also no guarantee that they made it to their destination, they could’ve run into any kind of trouble in a city like this. They might be acting out their own backup plan, just like you and Bucky. Bucky turns around and starts heading for the street, not even looking back to see if you’re following. When you let out a soft sigh and he hears your small footsteps echoing off of the brick walls, he knows he’s won this fight. He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look that’s spreading across his face. Winning an argument with you is something he can be proud of, because it doesn’t happen very often.

---

         Christmas Eve in Madripoor. Has anything ever sounded sadder than that? Christmas Eve, surrounded by a community of people who have done enough horrendous things to rival the entire population of Guantanamo Bay. Bucky sinks into the only chair in the dingy little motel room, checking his phone once again to see if Torres has called him back yet. Still nothing. Nothing from Sam or Sharon either, though he didn’t expect anything from them since the area they were headed into is known to utilize various types of phone and device jammers, transmitting radio waves that block phones from connecting to cell towers.

         You study Bucky from your place on the foot of the bed. He’s leaned back in the small armchair, clearly attempting to get comfortable but failing because he’s way too big for such a little seat. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest back, giving you a chance to really look at him. He’s let his stubble grow out a little more than usual this month, neglecting to really shave it with all of the back-to-back missions you’ve both been sent out on. It suits him. Someone as cold and calloused as Bucky shouldn’t have a smooth baby face. Your eyes coast further down, focusing on where you can just barely see his pulse on the side of his neck. You wonder how many times you’ve made his pulse quicken with anger in this last week alone. Probably enough to give the guy high blood pressure. Your gaze is just settling on his broad shoulders when his eyes blink open and he catches you staring.

         “Are you going to sit there and stare at me until we get out of here?”

         “Maybe. It’s what you do to everyone else, why can’t I try it out?” You ask. There’s a reason Sam likes to call him the bionic staring machine.

         “Try it out?” Bucky laughs, lifting his head from the back of the chair now. “You stare all the time.”

         “I do not.” You’re almost offended at his accusation. You? Staring all the time? At him? No fucking way. Maybe sometimes, but you thought you were covert enough about it that he never noticed. You just can’t help it sometimes. You’re intrigued by him every bit as much as you hate him. He’s over a hundred years old, yet he looks like he’s only a few years older than you. His taste in music is that of an elderly man, while his taste in clothes is perfectly in style with the current era. You hate the way he’s constantly berating you and attempting to order you around in the field, but you like the way he looks at you when you give in and take an order once in a blue moon. So, sometimes, you stare.

         “You’ve been staring at my arm for half of the night.”

         “Because it’s the only thing I like about you.”

         “Right, the only thing.” Bucky repeats your words slowly, as if he’s tasting them. You maintain eye contact with him as he licks his bottom lip. Against your better judgement, your gaze darts down to his mouth, to his mouth that always seems to say things that drive you mad and turn you on simultaneously.  “You know, I thought you might be nicer around Christmastime.” A genuine laugh breezes past your lips at the absolutely insane thought he’s just shared with you.

         “It’s a little hard to be nice when we’re stuck on skull island on Christmas Eve, Bucky.”

         “Be honest, you wouldn’t have been any nicer if we were back home.” He tilts his head to the side as he analyzes your body language. You’re sitting on the foot of the bed with your legs dangling over the edge. Your weight is resting back on the palms of your hands and you seem perfectly at ease. Bucky’s finding it a little surprising that you haven’t gotten up and made a dramatic exit yet. He’s surprised that you’re still going along with his plan at all honestly. He has to wonder why you’re so oddly content sitting here bantering back and forth with him while Torres takes his sweet time figuring things out.

         “Wouldn’t you have been off to Sarah’s for Christmas if we were back home?” Bucky raises an eyebrow at your question. He didn’t know that you knew he was close with Sam’s family. Though, he probably should’ve assumed since you knew Sam long before he did. You’ve probably even met Sarah before.

         “Maybe. Spending Christmas in the tower doesn’t sound very memorable.”

         “It’s not.” You say softly, thinking back to the last three years. It’s not that you didn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas. In the past, Sam has invited you to go see Sarah and the kids the week of Christmas, even Clint extends an open invitation for you to spend every Christmas with his family. But something about being around happy families on the biggest holiday of the year makes you feel the same way you do when you’re third-wheeling Wanda and Vision. You like to be around the Christmas cheer and festivities but you feel like you don’t fully belong. You’ve spent the last three Christmases in the tower on your own and it’s not that bad. A little lonely and not your favorite time of year like it used to be, but still, not that bad. Bucky picks up on your slightly sullen tone and the way you seem a little more distant suddenly.

         “You’re welcome then.” Bucky says, a smug smile taking over his features. You shoot him a slightly confused look.

         “For what?”

         “For giving you a memorable Christmas.” He says it like he’s just given you an actual Christmas gift. You laugh lightly just as his phone is lighting up with a message.

         “You say that like I’d actually thank you for sabotaging our mission tonight and getting us stranded in the shittiest place on Earth.” Bucky’s smug smile remains plastered across his face, even as he glances down and reads the text from Torres.

         “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while longer. Sam and Sharon got through to Torres and said they’re holed up somewhere across town, just like we are. Fury doesn’t want anyone making any more moves tonight without working comms and surveillance.” Bucky’s words bring your bad mood right back to the surface in an instant. You fall back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, covering your face with your hands.

         “How long is a while longer?” You’re dying to know.

         “Could be a few hours, could be all night.” Bucky says nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world that the two of you are stuck here together. It’s infuriating. You push yourself off of the bed and start for the door, but Bucky’s quick to rise from his chair and cross the small motel room in a mere four steps, reaching you just as your fingertips are brushing the door handle. He plants his flesh palm firmly against the wooden door, effectively stopping you from being able to open it. Fuck his super soldier strength.

         “I’m not staying here all night. There are things we could be doing besides sitting here waiting around.” You say impatiently, wrapping your hand around the door handle but not pulling yet. With the way the two of you are standing, Bucky’s chest is brushing against your back and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why the hell he’s so close.

         “What else could we be doing out there? You walk out that door and into the street and every bounty hunter in the city will be on you within five minutes. I’ve been hunted here before, Y/n, it’s not a game you want to play.” The energy between the two of you is so tense, so electrified, you wonder how your hand hasn’t sparked against the metal door handle.

         “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t give a shit about what I do.” You throw his words from earlier right back in his face. As Bucky’s hand against the door curls into a fist, you stand there waiting for him to back off. If he really doesn’t give a shit, he’ll let you walk out of here right now. But of course, Bucky gives a shit. Bucky gives so much of a shit that the mere thought of you waltzing out into the city at this hour, opening yourself up to unlimited danger, has him ready to burn the whole place down. You swallow as your grip on the door handle tightens, listening to Bucky’s even breathing right behind you.

         He doesn’t even know what’s come over him when he finds himself moving impossibly closer to you, letting his chest fully press against your back now. He leans down a couple of inches until his lips are grazing over the shell of your left ear, with his right hand still braced against the door over your right shoulder. He’s trapping you there with his body.

         “You are so fucking insufferable.” He whispers the insult against your ear, but it somehow it doesn’t even feel like an insult. It almost feels like he’s just whispered a little sweet nothing in your ear. Your grip on the door handle falters and Bucky notices, so he keeps going. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay here, to stop you from walking out into Madripoor and getting yourself killed tonight. If this is what it takes, so be it. “You wanted me to stop you, didn’t you? You wanted me to force you to stay.”

         “N-no.” You lie, hating the way you stutter through the simplest two-letter word known to man. It’s so hard to think with him this close to you.

         “Insufferable and a liar.” Bucky tsks, just as your hand is fully falling away from the door handle. He can’t help but smile at how easily this is working on you. If he’d known he only needed to be a little more authoritative and stand a little closer to you to make you listen to him, he would’ve tried it a long time ago. You watch, with goosebumps spreading across your skin beneath your tactical suit, as Bucky’s right hand skims down the flat surface of the door slowly. He continues on until his hand reaches the deadbolt just above the door handle. Click. The sound of the lock clicking sets off a chain reaction. A wave of confidence spreads through you like a wildfire and you turn around in the small space that Bucky has you trapped in. You thought he might step back once you were face to face, but no. He maintains his position, but now with his chest nearly touching yours and his breath fanning across your face. Though you feel confident and sure of yourself in this moment, when you look up at him like this you feel small. You feel like he could push you against the door and have his way with you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do a thing about it except enjoy it. The thought actually turns you on way more than it should, considering how independent and stubborn you are.

         “Insufferable and yet you’re trapping me in here. Who’s the liar?” You taunt, tilting your chin up and looking into his blue eyes. His normally cold, steely gaze has a different look now. There’s something bright behind his eyes, something exciting. Your eyes dart down to his mouth, lingering on his bottom lip a little longer than they should have, before you meet his gaze once more.

         “Don’t look at me like that unless you’re going to kiss me.” His tone is harsh but his eyes are daring. He wants you to kiss him. He’s daring you to do it. Unfortunately, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare. Even the stupidest of dares. So, you commit to it. You look at him the exact same way you just did, letting your eyes coast down his face and soak in the sight of his full lips. When you meet his gaze one last time, there’s only one little thought in his mind.

         That’s it, good girl.

         You have to raise up on your toes to reach his lips, because of course Bucky Barnes would stand there refusing to make it any easier for you. He wants to see you struggle to get what you want from him. After making his working life a living hell for months, he’s going to have you exactly how he wants you, or not at all. So, as you stand a little taller on your toes, Bucky acts like he couldn’t care less that you’re about to give him something he’s fucking dreamt about every night since he first started hating you. When your lips press against his, his bottom lip finds its place between the two of yours and he almost scoffs at how timid you’re being. It’s like you’re testing the waters, and he’s not having any of that. He’s quick to fist his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and walk you back one step so your ass hits the door. He breaks the kiss before it’s even been a second, giving you an annoyed look as he holds you in place between his body and the door.

         “Let’s try that again.” Bucky says the words right against your lips, as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and then slots his thigh between yours. As he bends his knee, his hands travel down your sides to grab onto your hips. He angles your hips down just slightly, as he brings his leg up an inch, and you look down right as your clothed cunt makes contact with his thigh. You inhale sharply at the unexpected move, but you don’t move at all. You stay right where he wants you, and he waits patiently for you to look up at him again. When you finally do, a switch inside of you flips and you know you’re about to sabotage tonight’s mission even more. You pull Bucky down to your mouth, kissing him with so much heat and intensity that his hands briefly loosen on your hips, like he wasn’t expecting this from you. After two seconds, his hands start sliding right back up your waist until you feel them both tangle in your hair, which he uses to pull you even harder against his mouth. You don’t think the kiss can get any more intense, until you feel his tongue dancing across your bottom lip. You part your lips without hesitation, letting him dominate the kiss in an instant.

         You taste so fucking good. So. Fucking. Good. So good that Bucky doesn’t notice the first time you grind your pussy against his thigh, he’s too focused on exploring every bit of your mouth with his tongue and savoring the taste of you. But the second time? Fuck. The second time you grind down on his thigh you moan into the kiss and Bucky has to stop. He pulls back while keeping one hand in the hair at the nape of your neck. The look on your face is pure lust. It’s longing. It’s making Bucky’s cock twitch in his pants and making it really hard to decide what to do with you first. God. That one kiss opened up the floodgates.

         “Let me hear that sound again.” Bucky encourages you while using his hold on your hips to guide you to grind down a third time. He watches between the two of you as you drag your cunt along his thigh. The moan that leaves your lips this time is too much. He’s had enough. He quickly pulls away from you, taking two steps back and running a hand through his hair. He eyes you as you stand with your back against the door, catching your breath and staring right back at him.

         “I want a memorable Christmas.” You speak so softly that Bucky has to rewind it in his head to really catch onto what you’ve just said. You want a memorable Christmas. You’re asking him to give you a memorable Christmas. He looks you over slowly, carefully, taking in every detail of the way you look right now. Your skin, though still covered by your tactical suit, heats up to an uncomfortable degree under his watchful gaze.

         “Say please.”

---

         He’s going to hate fuck you. There’s nothing else you could possibly call it, and honestly nothing else you’d want to call it. You’re standing in front of the bathroom sink, locking eyes with Bucky in the reflection of the mirror. You really thought he was going to take you to bed, but no. As soon as you gave in and said please like he wanted you to, he pulled you away from the motel room door and pushed you into the bathroom. He wants to take you from behind but he wants a clear view of how much you’re enjoying it the whole fucking time. If he’s about to fuck away the obscene amount of tension that’s been between the two of you for the last few months, he’s going to memorize every damn face you make, every sound that leaves your lips, and every inch of your body. He’s going to ruin you, so that every time you think about how much you hate him, you can’t help but think about how much you loved being fucked by him.

         You’re both quiet, except for heavy breaths and a few soft moans and groans, as Bucky starts taking off his clothes behind you. He juts his chin out slightly after dropping his shirt on the floor, gesturing for you to take your clothes off too. You follow his moves exactly, dropping your shirt on top of his. He takes a few seconds to admire the way your breasts sit so perfectly in your bra, but then he finds himself growing annoyed at even that little bit of fabric obstructing his view. He undoes it for you, with only one hand, while his free hand begins undoing his belt. Of course this fucking man can undo his belt with just one hand. After a few more agonizingly slow seconds of the two of you undressing, you’re both completely naked. Bucky takes a deep breath in, and when he breathes it back out it warms the back of your neck.

         Just like earlier, Bucky nudges your legs to spread a little wider, using his knee. Your body obeys his silent command like it’s routine for you. He loves the way you respond to him so willingly. He’s never had you like this, not even a little bit, and it’s giving him such a high. It’s the first time he’s ever had you listening to him without a single word of rebuttal, without any stubbornness or refusal. He should’ve fucked you so long ago.

         Bucky’s vibranium index finger traces over your spine, from the very top to the bottom, sending a chill all throughout your body. It only cools you off for a second, before he uses that same hand to push you forward until you’re slightly bent over the sink. His flesh hand dances across your ass, deftly dipping between your legs and making contact with your wet folds. He drags two fingertips back and forth there, collecting your wetness before focusing his touch on your clit. As soon as he applies pressure, your back arches and your ass presses back against him. That’s when you feel his hard cock, standing fully erect, nearly between your ass cheeks. He’s big. So big that for a second you fear there’s no way he’ll fit inside of you, but something tells you that you were made for his cock. It’ll fit. He’ll make it fit.

         “You can’t stand to be around me, but you’re nearly dripping for me.” Bucky says lowly, rubbing slow circles against your clit. A string of moans slips past your lips and he smiles as he watches your eyes close in the mirror. “That’s it, you like that, don’t you?”

         “You talk too much.” You snap, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze in the mirror. His smile darkens and he pulls his hand away from your clit. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Suddenly, his ring and middle fingers plunge so deep inside of you that you see stars. He curls them, dragging his fingertips against the walls of your pussy over and over. He didn’t start out slow by any stretch of the imagination, no. He begins fucking those two fingers in and out of you at such a perfect pace that your legs begin feeling weak far too soon. You grip the edge of the bathroom sink so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

         “You don’t even have to answer me, baby. I can tell you like it.” Bucky punctuates his words with another hard thrust of his fingers, and then curls them again, in a way that makes that familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten more and more with each passing second. You try to drown out his voice, focusing instead on how fucking skilled he is with his hand. Bucky’s mesmerized as he watches you draw closer and closer to your orgasm. He almost wants to let you have it. He considers finger fucking you straight through it, and then giving you another on his cock, but he isn’t going to be that nice to you. If he only gets one orgasm here tonight, then so do you.

         The whine that leaves your lips when Bucky pulls his fingers out of you should embarrass you. You should absolutely hate how needy you are for him, but you feel his cock twitch against your ass when he hears the sound and you love it.

         “You like that, don’t you?” You tease. You love using his words against him. You do it often in arguments and he hates it. His jaw clenches, but he says nothing in response. Instead, he wraps his flesh hand around his cock and gives it a few quick strokes before lining it up with your entrance. He looks down between the two of you, letting his eyes roam down your arched back, straight to where his cock is poised and ready to slide in. He knows he’s big. He knows his cock is above average, both in thickness and in length. He knows the nice thing to do would be to warm you up a little more, build up to using three fingers on you before finally fucking you slowly until you adjust to his size. But the two of you aren’t ever nice to each other.

         So, Bucky begins pushing the head of cock inside you, letting his head fall back and his fingertips leave bruises on your hips and waist as he holds you firmly in place. He’s only an inch in and you’re already feeling the sting. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. He hasn’t even let you get a look at his cock yet, but as he forces it into you, you’re thankful he didn’t let you see it first. You might’ve chickened out. Bucky isn’t even halfway in before you’re moaning and trying to pull off a little, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp.

         “Stop fucking moving.” He seethes, his head snapping forward so he can look at you in the mirror again. “You’re going to take all of it.”

         Everything was a blur when he finally bottomed out inside you. He didn’t even pause once he was fully inside you, he immediately began dragging his cock back out and then pushing it in again. After the third thrust, you started to feel pleasure.

Bucky alternates between watching the way you’re falling apart for him in the mirror and looking down to watch his cock repeatedly disappear into the most perfect cunt he’s ever fucked. He truly can’t decide which view he likes more. The first time you moan his name sends him into a tailspin. He has no control over the way he fists your hair in his right hand and yanks you back against his chest, keeping your back arched and your face perfectly visible in the mirror. He fucks his cock into you so relentlessly, repeatedly hitting just the right spot inside of you, that you’re sure your previous thought was right. You were made for his cock. There isn’t a doubt in your mind.

When you start pushing your ass back against him, meeting each of his thrusts, Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. When he started this, he had every intention of finishing inside of you. He wanted to do it without anything between the two of you, he wanted to cum inside of you so deeply that you’d feel his spend dripping out of you for the rest of the mission. But suddenly all he wants to do is cum in your mouth. He wants you to know what he tastes like. He wants to see what you look like on your knees for him. The harder he fucks you, the more he thinks about it, until he’s positive he won’t be able to finish this any other way.

So, not even a moment later, Bucky is pulling his cock out of you and pushing your shoulder downward. You instantly understand that he wants you on your knees, and you oblige him without giving it a second thought. When your mouth opens without even a second of a pause, Bucky slides his length past your lips. His head falls back and a sinful groan graces your ears as he revels in the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft.

“Good girl.” He groans. Good girl. Fuck. The praise has you snaking your own hand between your legs, chasing your own release as Bucky uses your mouth like he owns it. In his mind right now, he does own it. After a few seconds, he looks down at you once again and notices what you’re doing with your hand. You moan around his cock as you rub circles over your clit and the vibration from the sound sends Bucky right to the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You look up at him, your eyes giving him clear permission to let go. You want him to cum in your mouth. Another groan is ripped from his chest, and you hear your name fall from his lips just as you taste his cum. Your own orgasm comes crashing down right as he’s finishing in your mouth, and he watches you closely as you carry yourself through it.

Bucky wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pulls it out of your mouth slowly, the two of you maintaining eye contact like it would be a sin to look away. Seeing your mouth full of his cum gives him an unfamiliar feeling deep in his chest. He feels possessive. He wants you to know that you belong to him now.

As you swallow everything that he gave you, there’s only one way to describe how you’re feeling. While you still hate this man with every fiber of your being, you feel like you belong to him now. Your body isn’t your own anymore.

You belong to the man you hate most, and you kind of like it.

TAG LIST (if your user is crossed through, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):

@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @fandomsfeminismandme

[seuonji]

彡on a variety show w your svt bf!

๑ idol!svt x idol!yn secret relationship series! no storyline, just fun.

one ๑ two ๑ three ๑ four ๑ five ๑ six ๑ seven #mlist

notes ๑ variety show 'my alcohol diary' has mentions of drinking & getting drunk.

your group plays esports (valorant, leave of legends, apex, etc) against svt as a hybe special!

wonwoo gives you a look when you both sit at the end of your respective tables, you on the right, him on the left making you two sort of beside each other.

as you both play, the host points out that your skills are extremely good. your group member brings up the fact that recently you’ve been spending a lot more time gaming in your free time to which wonwoo rests his head on his hand to cover his smile knowing that he’s the reason you’ve been gaming more. the host adds on that your play style is a bit similar to wonwoo giving both groups chills. “perhaps it’s what’s adapted after a long time of playing,” you calmly respond.

on the other hand with soonyoung— he keeps messing up, at one point he shot one of his members, “the keyboard isn’t following what i want to do.” and you’d fr just face palm yourself. the host mentions, “even yn is getting tired of your antics.” “what antics!? im really trying.” you hope he can make it when technology evolves further. after filming you meet up with him. “wasn’t i cool earlier?” he asks. “i think my baby cousin can beat you.”

jeonghan would be such a menace in this scenario cause omg he would target you. like if he spots you he will not stop shooting and chasing until he gets you— your group member watching all of this go down would try to shoot jeonghan yet somehow he’s dodging and still hunting you down— “let me breathe!?” jeonghan shouts at your member. “you’re not letting ME breathe?” you shout back.

๑

random play dance! (random song is played and you have to dance the correct choreography)

beforehand you'd ask seungkwan to help you with the dances but he was not about to help you out while you were in a different group! until in one of the rounds where you looked lost, seungkwan comes to the front and dances clearly as a way to help you. "you're helping the other groups! get to the back," competitive seungcheol would shout. "sorry i got excited," seungkwan laughs it off. being fr tho how does that man know that many choreographies.

i imagine seokmin/mingyu would whisper to you, "i got you, just follow me," and then he would be one of the first to be eliminated.

vernon keeps on looking at you and copying your dance— you can’t help but laugh at his facial expressions when he doesn’t know the dance but also somehow he’s surviving.

wherever you are in the arena, chan always ends up beside you.

๑

youngji's program 'my alcohol diary'

you’d go alone to promote your groups album. your episode was relatively short— they covered it up with 'yn got drunk super fast' but actually, whether you have a high tolerance or not, in the end when you got drunk, you just kept on gushing about your boyfriend. (bf can be any member)

when youngji asked you to teach her the dance of your song you went through it step by step until a certain part, “oh soonyoung choreographed this part and i gave it as a suggestion and it made the cut to the official choreo,” you said with a big smile. // “my boyfriend likes this part,” you danced the bit then nonchalantly continued to teach youngji but she’s standing, there still in shock of everything she’s heard.

after filming, your boyfriend would pick you up and take care of you till you sober up.

the next day youngji would message and reveal something to you.

yn: im so sorry for the short episode run-

youngji: if it makes you feel better, seungcheol/soonyoung/mingyu/minghao talked about you way more than you did about them.

๑

chinese whisper game as a mini game (there’s a given word/phrase and the word is passed on through all players, last players needs to shout it out word for word)

you’re standing in front of jeonghan/minghao and he keeps on blowing into your ear before he starts actually saying the given phrase—

but if it was the noise cancellation version (have to read lips or body actions to get the word/phrase)

seungcheol pouted at you when you couldn’t understand what he was saying which a lot of viewers found weird since he would usually only do that with his members.

you almost hug jeonghan/joshua/wonwoo when he got the word correct—

jun/wonwoo/jihoon keeps on giving you high-fives every round.

you consider choking soonyoung when he can’t get the word correct for shit.

you and minghao/chan kept on bickering over the way he would execute the word. the staff and your members would be more interested on how you guys fight rather than the word being finally passed over to the last person.

[pelorsdyke]

ronancetober - day nine: free day [west wing au]

“What the hell was that?”

When she enters Nancy’s office, the woman in question is scribbling furiously on a yellow legal pad, books and highlighters surrounding her on the desk.

“Good morning, Nancy, it’s nice to see you, Nancy, oh, thank you so much, Robin, it’s nice to see you too.” Nancy replies, not looking up from her task. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Good morning, Nancy. What the hell was that?”

Nancy’s pen runs out of ink and she switches for a replacement, tossing the old one into the wastebasket at her feet. Still, she doesn’t lift her gaze, though whether it’s purposeful or just a symptom of Nancy being deep in her work, Robin doesn’t know.

“I did my job,” Nancy replies, and her voice is sincere, if a little ticked, “you know, the thing where they pay me human money to make sure the President doesn’t get torpedoed by a bunch of idiots?”

“Yeah, well, you also directly undermined me to the press corps,” Robin reminds her, still thinking about the way Vickie Stewart pulled her aside after the briefing not ten minutes ago. “You know,” she mocks, “the thing where they pay me human money to make sure the White House has consistent and accurate messaging?”

At this, Nancy looks up.

“I didn’t undermine you,” she says, instant, and her gaze remains locked on Robin’s. Robin scoffs and Nancy shakes her head, repeats herself. “I didn’t undermine you, Robin.”

“Then what the hell is the Post doing asking me about the Speaker of the House?” Robin replies, and Nancy frowns, considering for a moment. It’s one of the woman’s best qualities, especially given her job description, but sometimes it really pisses Robin off. Sometimes, like right now.

“Speaker’s not elected yet, Nance,” Robin reminds her, and Nancy shoots her a look, I know that, idiot clear across her face.

“What’s Stewart claiming to know?” Nancy asks, and if Robin didn’t know better, she’d think the tone in Nancy’s voice on Vickie’s name is jealousy.

“You don’t know it’s Stewart,” Robin says, just to be difficult.

“Nobody else at the Post would tell you,” Nancy fires back, “they’d just print the story and make it your problem at the next briefing.”

Robin bristles. She feels, honestly, a little protective over the journalists in the press room. She knows there’s staff that think she’s too friendly with them, but it’s important to her job to not be antagonistic as much as it’s important to her personally. There’s a non-zero number of people in the White House who consider the press and politicians to be permanently at each other’s throats, and Robin believes that’s a terrible way to run a country. Journalists are, as much as they’re occasionally pains in her ass, an extension of the American people.

“What’s she saying?” Nancy repeats, and Robin shoves her hands in her pockets, desperate for something to fiddle with.

“That Byers is trying to prop up a Democratic candidate to lessen the pressure during the impending investigation,” Robin says, quoting Vickie directly. “Special prosecutor not withstanding.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “The President is supporting a candidate from her own party for a position in government. The horror.”

“That’s not the problem and you know it,” Robin replies. “We’re staring down the barrel of an investigation that could make or break the presidency— based on accusations of something she did in fact do, in case you’ve forgotten— and people are starting to suggest it could shift toward impeachment.”

“It’s not gonna shift toward impeachment.”

“It will if you’re an idiot about this!”

Nancy’s eyes narrow. “Choose your next words very carefully.” It’s times like this that Robin remembers she’s the least powerful senior staff member, that Nancy is leagues beyond her.

“There’s discussion of attempts on behalf of the presidency to defraud the American people,” Robin holds up a hand when Nancy begins to cut in, “whether you agree with the assessment is not the point, the point is that it’s the conversation being had. Now this kind of thing, maybe she gets a censure, has a black mark on her presidency. Fine. Not great, but not the end of the world. But there’s been talk for a while now about conspiracy.”

“Conspiracy toward what end?” Nancy sputters.

“Conspiracy to win a presidential election,” Robin replies. It’s another thing she’s quoting verbatim, though this time not from Vickie. “Lying to the American people, it’s tantamount to manipulation in some people’s eyes.”

Nancy sighs, drops her head into her hands.

“So tell me, Nance,” Robin says, gentling her voice, “what the hell you were thinking supporting Byers’ move here.”

“The same thing she was thinking,” Nancy replies, lifting her head to meet Robin’s gaze again, “that the investigation is primarily politically-motivated bullshit from a Republican Party that hates her guts. That they’re trying to tank her chances of re-election. That the special prosecutor is a good guy, but we’d rather have someone on our side in his ear.”

Robin considers her answer for a moment. It’s times like these when she really wants to smack everyone in the cabinet over the head with something heavy. Their instinct to not include her in these discussions is typically built on a not so terrible foundation, she supposes, with the idea that if she doesn’t know something, she can’t tell the press, but it’s also unbearably stupid. She’s the president’s first line of defense, the person who’ll get the questions about it, and it’s not a good way to build trust with the public to have your press secretary be an idiot who doesn’t have a clue what the administration is planning to do. Case in point, Vickie Stewart from the Washington Post suggesting that at the next briefing, she intended to ask Robin a question about the president’s push to elect a Democratic congressperson to be Speaker of the House. Robin had laughed, actually, at first, when the reporter had said it.

It also removes her ability to tell them the actually useful thing to do, media-wise, in times like this.

“Okay,” Robin says, sliding into the seat on the other side of Nancy’s desk, “imagine this. There’s three ways this goes, one of which is a Democratic-led investigation against a Democratic President, which ultimately leads— regardless of if they find her guilty or not— to questions of if we put our finger on the scale.”

Nancy wilts, a little. “You can’t be telling me you want to put Republicans in charge of an investigation into the sanctity of Byers’ election process.”

“I’m not telling you what I want, I’m telling you what we have to do. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell Hopper, I’ll tell Byers, I don’t give a damn. It’s not about what I think, it’s about what the American people think.” Robin pushes on. This is one of the reasons she’s gotten to where she has in her career: not only is she smart, people listen to her when she talks. And she talks a lot.

Nancy quirks an eyebrow, permission to continue.

“Number two,” Robin ticks off on her fingers, “is that the special prosecutor, who, by the way, is well-respected across party lines, runs this case independently. Here, you’re just tossing the coin up in the air. You know that, it’s why none of you were backing off on Speaker candidates. I’m not saying it’s pretty, but it’s politics. You know as well as I do that if he runs a clean investigation with nobody’s help, Byers is looking at a loss.”

Nancy sighs. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell anybody.”

“She told Hopper,” Robin says, though she knows it’s futile, and Nancy scoffs.

“And he did bullshit with it, so that’s not exactly helpful here.” Nancy replies, and Robin has to concede that point. “So then, the third way is…”

“Republicans, yeah.” Robin cuts in. “Don’t look so thrilled.”

“Just seems like we’re asking to get our ass handed to us,” Nancy says, and Robin can’t help chuckling a little.

“We are,” she replies, smirking when Nancy’s brow furrows with confusion. “We’re absolutely asking for them to fuck us over, Wheeler. Keep up. I’m a member of the American public, watching the proceedings, thinking about who I’m gonna vote for, and I see a bunch of Republicans taking a break between their trips to Fox to sit on a panel for forty-five minutes and talk shit about Byers to run a politically-motivated trashing against her from Congress, during an election year?”

Nancy’s jaw drops open a little in surprise, but she quickly swallows down the emotion, the corners of her lips twisting up into a smile instead. “Christ, Buckley,” she says, after a second, “you’re fucking terrifying.”

“Oh, stop,” Robin replies, pleased as punch, “you’re gonna make me blush.”

[writtenmemxries]

silence the voices that haunt you inside

rated t | 5.7k words

"How are you doing, Diaz?"

Eddie turns his head towards the captain and takes in his sincerely concerned expression. He realises he hasn't seen him since the shooting.

He puts his hands in his pockets, breathing calmly. "I'm doing good," he replies, and takes a moment to appreciate the fact that it's the truth. "Really, I'm doing much better than I was just a year ago."

Mehta nods. "I'm glad, Diaz. Really."

Eddie smiles politely, ready to drop the subject. Then, "Good thing Buckley was there," Mehta adds, and it's so casual, like a thought pronounced aloud, that Eddie's brain takes a minute to process the words.

———

A story of poker nights, feelings realisations, breakdowns and PTSD.

6x13 speculation fic

“Are you sure it’s no bother?” Bobby asks again. 

He’s still wearing his uniform despite the shift having already ended and him and Eddie being the only ones of their team left. He has a pen sitting behind his ear, making him look more like an architect than a firefighter. The door to his office is ajar, and Eddie can only imagine how stressful it must be to fight fires and do paperwork in the meantime. (He’s kind of grateful Bobby has never considered him to become interim captain whenever the opportunity arose, if he’s being honest.)

Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes at his captain – something about respecting your elders and all the kind of stuff you get taught in the army – and smiles instead, shaking his head in a fondly exasperated manner.

“Bobby, it’s fine,” he says.

“And Christopher—”

“—is at Pepa’s,” Eddie interrupts him. “I told you, it’s fine. You go have fun with Athena, I got it covered.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anyone else to pin this onto,” Bobby says, and by the way Eddie does roll his eyes this time, it’s probably the fourth time or something very close to that.

“Bobby,” Eddie groans. “We have Saturday night free and I’m the only one who’s unattached. Everyone else made plans, I get it.”

Bobby nods. Something in the way he slightly narrows his eyes tells Eddie that he’s not completely convinced, though, but he lets it slide.

“You could ask Buck to come with you. You know, keep you company. He’s… unattached, too,” he says, and if this wasn’t Bobby, a 50-something year-old man, Eddie would be sure that his tone was suggesting something that Eddie is not quite willing to discuss with his captain.

He laughs it off, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, sure,” he says, and he hopes Bobby doesn’t realise how dry his mouth suddenly is. “I’m sure we can find ourselves a couple of fancy suits.”

Bobby nods. He clasps a hand on his shoulder, thanking him, and walks back to his office.

Eddie grips his duffel bag tighter. He looks at Buck’s locker – the one that hasn’t been used in a while, the one they used to share – and finds himself pulling out his phone and sending him a message before he has the time to even think about it.

just got off shift. call me when you wake up, yeah?

[continue on ao3]

[legolasghosty]

I love all the celebrity fake dating prompts! So hard to choose just one but how about for willex, the prompt: wearing each others clothes publicly to 'keep up the image'

And reason: To tick off a certain group that has been being jerks lately. (My brain instinctively thought to piss off the homophobes and stick it to the “fans” who refuse to believe that he is gay, but that is optional!)

- @beencryingfor25years

Hehehehe hello @beencryingfor25years, thanks for the prompt!!! The holidays have been a little nuts, so sorry for the delay, but here it is!!!

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alex asks, bracing the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so his hands are free.

"Duh," Willie answers on the other end of the call. "This is like dating 101. Honestly, it would be more suspicious if we didn't."

"But this looks ridiculous on me," Alex insists, tugging at the fabric that keeps brushing against his abdomen.

Willie laughs and Alex is glad it's not a video call. At least this way Willie can't see how Alex's cheeks are warming at the sound. Why did he decide to do this again?

"You're just not used to it," Willie responds. "Shoot me a picture, I'm sure it looks fine. Or just ask Julie, she'll smack some sense into you."

Alex sighs. "Fine, one second," he says. He removes the phone from his ear and flips over to the camera. It only takes a moment to snap a photo of his reflection, but that's a moment longer than Alex wants to be looking at himself. "There, happy?" he asks after he sends it.

There isn't a response at first. Oh no, Alex thinks. It must be just as bad as he thinks and Willie is trying to figure out how to tell him without being rude, because that's the kind of sweet person they are. But honestly, the tan and blue shirt that looks so nice on them just doesn't suit Alex as well. It's so awkward, even with the high waisted jeans Julie told him to wear with it.

"Alex, you look amazing," Willie says finally. Something in his tone sounds odd though, but not like he's lying. Alex can't put his finger on it. But it's definitely something.

"You sure?" he questions instead of pointing it out. "You can tell me if it looks bad, I won't be offended or anything."

"No seriously, dude, you look great!" Willie exclaims. Alex can almost picture their wide grin and the sparkle in their eyes when they're hyping him up for stuff. "Honestly, you look better in it than I do."

"That's a stretch," Alex responds, chuckling. "But fine. And fair's fair, now you gotta show me yours."

Willie giggles and Alex feels his heart speeding up again. Honestly, he should have asked someone less... incredible than Willie to be his fake boyfriend. Because this has only brought them closer together, and curse Alex and his everlasting curse of falling for guys that are totally out of his league.

But honestly, how could anyone not fall for Willie, at least a bit. He's funny and sweet and has a mischievous streak that terrifies and excites Alex in equal parts. Plus the fact that they're basically the prettiest person Alex has ever met. And the two of them have a lot in common, despite the fact that Alex is a pop-rock drummer and Willie is a gaming streamer. Even though they've been sort of friends for almost a year after a rather awkward run in at a convention, and pretend dating for just over two months, they still haven't run out of things to talk about.

So yeah, Alex has maybe developed a crush on his fake boyfriend. Which is a problem.

His phone buzzes in his hand, pulling him out of his head.

"There ya go, hotdog," Willie says.

Alex opens the message and... okay he is not having feelings about Willie in his favorite pink hoodie. He isn't. But Willie took more than a second on his picture. The selfie shows Willie in their gaming chair, dark hair loose around their shoulders, his legs pulled up and crossed even though the arms of the chair get in the way. And the light pink fabric of the hoodie in question is covering his torso in a way that is entirely too attractive for something that Alex has worn to bed a million times. Alex is 99% sure that if he actually walked in on Willie wearing that in person, he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to kiss them.

"Well?" Willie asks. "How do I look?"

Alex clears his throat, suddenly realizing how long he's been staring at the photo. "Um, it looks great, very, uh, boyfriend-y."

"Well this hoodie does seem to be made of boyfriend material," Willie teases after a second. "Gonna piss off some homophobes for sure."

"Perfect," Alex responds, laughing. "I mean, what's the point in this if we don't?" Which is something he has to remember himself...

"Alex, we gotta get going!" Reggie calls from outside of Alex's bedroom. "Quit flirting with your faux-boo and let's go!"

"One sec," Alex yells back. "Sorry, I've got to go," he says into the phone. "Content Day calls."

"Yeah I gotta prep for stream in a few anyways," Willie sighs. "But good luck!"

"You too, I'll hop on to watch for a bit if I have a break," Alex promises.

"You spoil me, baby," Willie responds. "Talk to you later!"

"Bye, Willie," Alex answers, ignoring the flush in his cheeks at the pet name as he disconnects the call.

Reggie gives him a smirk when he joins the rest of the band in the living room of their apartment, but Alex just shakes his head. Now is not the time to talk about his crush. They pile into Alex's van and head for their favorite cafe.

----------

A few hours later, Alex has almost managed to put the image of Willie in his hoodie out of his mind. But he has a minute to himself while Luke and Reggie are filming a little studio tour, so he pulls up Willie's stream on his phone. And... well. Yeah.

Alex.exe has stopped working.

Willie is playing some new farming sim at the moment and getting hopelessly lost on the map. He's laughing at the conflicting directions he's getting from the chat and Alex wants to be there beside him, enjoying that rush of joy in person.

Willie must recognize his username on the chat log, because he breaks off midsentence. "Hey, Lexi, you're here! Everyone, my boyfriend has decided to grace us with his presence for a few minutes, be nice."

The chat immediately goes wild and Alex can't help but laugh at some of the comments. He types out a quick hello message, then adds that he probably can't stay long.

"No worries, babe, I know you have your big fancy music job to do," Willie responds. "But I'm glad you're here. Anyways, does anyone know where I can find the blacksmith?!"

"You should talk to him."

Alex nearly falls off his chair onto the floor at the voice just behind him. He turns to see Julie looking down at him with a bit of a smirk, two bottles of water in her hands.

"What?" he says, trying to remember if he's forgetting some content thing.

"Willie," she clarifies. "It's pretty obvious you like him for real, and it sure looks to me like he likes you too."

"What, no, they're like..." Alex stammers. "I mean, Willie is way out of my league. He doesn't like me like that. It would just make things weird."

"Please, you're like a solid 10," Julie responds, smacking him on the shoulder with one of the bottles. "And they have a massive crush on you, it's so obvious."

"Their a good actor," Alex points out with a shrug. "It's a fake relationship, we're supposed to look like we're in love."

"Okay but you also stay up way too late texting," Julie counters. "And he knows your allergies even better than Luke, who has known you since before you knew about all of said allergies. You two have memorized each others' coffee orders, sensory icks, and medication schedules. I'm pretty sure he likes you back."

Alex sighs. When she puts it like that, it seems so simple. But...

"Don't give me that look," Julie adds. "Just talk to them."

"Fine," Alex groans. "I'll try."

"Andddd, here, in his natural habitat, we have the elusive drummer boy," Luke cuts in, bursting through the green room door with Reggie on his heels with the camera.

Alex heaves a more dramatic sigh. "Sue me for wanting a break from you weirdos," he teases, taking the water Julie offers him. "Are you almost done?"

"Just about!" Reggie answers.

"Then I'm going to go check my sticks," Alex tells them, disconnecting from the stream on his phone and heading for the studio.

He has to admit he's a bit distracted for the rest of the day though. Does Willie actually like him back? Is that even possible?

Only one way to find out, he decides during dinner.

[genderqueerdykes]

I felt so many emotions when I found your blog, seriously, I'm literally in a do-I-cry-or-not moment right here.

I have a select group of people I know and trust that have some idea about my "transness", but I never felt super comfortable about talking to them or in the same social media we normally use for our interactions about how I feel regarding this, for some reason I don't know... then I saw a post of yours with the line "(...) but he finally only felt safe when he found another trans man to talk to." and not everything, but a lot of things made sense.

Then I saw that you accept asks about questions we may have when it comes to our experiences, or even just asks relating the experiences, I read more of the blog... seriously, I just want to cry and I am crying. It's exactly the space that I needed in my life and didn't know I needed.

I have some (a lot of?) questions as someone young who realized only recently he may be a trans man and is having some hardships accepting that himself, and things I'd like to say and feel like I don't have enough space and/or comfort to do so in other places, but for now I just wanted to leave here a big thank you. Thank you so much, thank you so much for this. Sending you a big, tight hug.

dude... you made me tear up

FOR REAL THOUGH.... i find that's just the experience with trans men, we're so, so alienated by other people at times, cishet folks don't get us at all and they force us to be uncomfortable in the most painful ways and even if you find other people who are gnc it doesn't compare to the relief that comes from finally meeting another trans man.

it's so, so hard to be a trans man among cis men, too- i tried it for soooo many years and i just kept getting condescended to. sure, there are in fact better cis men out there, and i could keep trying to find them... or i could. focus on my own community. i could find other men like ME who need help feeling acknowledged. i could find other men like ME who need someone to just see them for who they are and not run them through a filter. i don't want to hang out with men like THEM. i want to hang out with men like ME. we aren't "different" from cis men- we're all men- but trans men have a highly unique experience that literally no one else gets, much like trans women have a highly unique experience that literally no one else understands.

now more than ever trans men need each other, we need trans brotherhood, we need to be here for one another, to grab each other by the shoulders and scream and cry and say you're a man, i see you, it's okay, you're not alone, i promise there are other guys just like you. we need our community. we need to feel safe. we need men who get us. we need men like US.

i hope i can continue to provide that sense of community here for you, if you ever need help with anything feel free to shoot a message and i'll answer as soon as i can! you're loved, you're valued, and you're being seen for who you actually are. keep it up, man, you're awesome

[tapejob]

help im from twitter and idk what im doing. how does hockey tumblr work

so you just fled hockeytwt - what now?

hey anon, welcome to hockeyblr! we're imo one of the best communities on tumblr and we're so glad to have you. hopefully you'll enjoy your stay :)

some general tumblr things to note:

as you probably know, tumblr doesn't run on an algorithm

any content depends primarily on what blogs you follow + occasionally what tags you follow (less reliable. your main source will be by blogs)

tags serve mainly as an organizational/content marker, as well as for filtering purposes. tagging #fyp to get your content out there does nothing

to send an ask, click on the button beside the follow/following button on the user's blog - some people rename the 'ask' to some other things, which may make it hard to find

we are the faceless app. pls customize your blog a little so it doesn't look like you're a bot but do not feel pressured to reveal names/face/age/pronouns whatever

once again, the only way content is found is through reblogs. reblog things that u think are neat, no additions required :)

re filtering: you can block terms/tags/content you don't want to see on your dash (e.g. 'tw sexual assault'). here's a better post to explain trigger warning/tagging etiquette

ok onto general hockeyblr:

to follow tags, go into the search bar and type out #[tag] and click the blue follow button on the right. your basic starter pack of tags to follow in hockeyblr: #hockey, #nhl, etc.

but that's lame. and you're probably not gonna get any of the juicy stuff

following your team/the teams you are tangentially interested in and their popular player tags are often a good way to start breaking into the community (e.g. #pittsburgh penguins, #sidney crosby)

follow cool hockeyblr ppl! u can find ppl in your team spheres through the tags i mentioned above. there was also a hockeyblr directory made a while back (og masterlist is down but shoot me a message and i can get you some specific team lists. don't be afraid to ask ppl for recs too)

reblog, like, etc. esp with content creators/gifsets/etc. engagement does the heart good

wtf is liveblogging:

lots of users liveblog and post commentary during games!

you can find these posts in the lb tags, which vary by team and are sort of collectively known (e.g. #pens lb for pittsburgh)

some tags are a little less intuitive: #nyr lb or #rangers lb are both used for the rangers iirc, #bolts lb or #tbl lb have both been used for tampa - feel free to shoot me an ask/msg if you have trouble lol

big events, such as the playoffs, worlds, the all star game, etc may have their own special tags (e.g. #scp lb, #worlds lb, #asg lb, #team germany lb, etc). you'll figure it out as you go! and don't be afraid to ask for clarification

tagging your liveblogs are pretty important since:

it's fun to liveblog with a bunch of people on your silly little gang of guys! helps u find friends to follow, and

people who follow the opposing team might want to filter out your commentary (more info below)

ouch, yikes. i don't want to see that (aka, filtering/blocking)

coming back to filtering, the nice thing abt tumblr is that u can filter out whatever tags/blogs/keywords you don't want to see on your dash

go to your blog settings to live peacefully and with prosperity

you can filter out team tags/liveblogs/players, anything you want. in fact, u are encouraged bc not feeling extreme rage over some picture on the dash of the team that knocked your team out of the scp does the body good

filtered posts don't disappear entirely from the dash (in case u have fomo), but when a blog u follow posts about something in that tag, you will see a blurred post with the tags you filtered, as well as an option to view the post

(looks like this)

some users also have specific tags that they may have created for organizational purposes and to help you block specific content (e.g. #nhl trade rumors are my personal tag for, you guessed it, trade rumors. some ppl don't wanna hear that, so easy tagging for filter)

on that note: filter and move on. don't go into opposing team tags/liveblogs and talk shit or stir up shit. you will be blocked by. a significant amount of people. play nice y'all, it's hockey

rpf/fic

not really my area of expertise on tumblr, but there's a pretty big rpf/fic community on hockeyblr. follow or block as you need!

player relationship tags are a good place to look for content (e.g. #sidgeno, #8771)

use the :readmore: function on tumblr liberally if you're posting fics - full player fics in the player tags can suck to scroll through for an outside user

once again, don't be afraid to reach out and ask for help. best of luck navigating hockeyblr, you're sure to have a blast!

[jtl-fics]

So I was just thinking and this might be kinda embarrassing to admit hence the anon lol but I do this thing where if there are blogs I think are cool that I would like to be better friends with I turn on their notifs and then if I’m scrolling through my dash and a notification that they’ve posted something I want to interact with I’ll scroll back to the top of my dash and refresh it and then like or reblog their post and then a few things after from farther down my dash because that way I get to interact with their post without looking like I’m stalking their blog like oh I came across this post on my dash and thought it was cool and interacted with it and not I think your super cool but I’m to anxious to talk to you so I’m trying to silently convey that I think you’re cool so that maybe you’ll message me first lol and I feel like that’s maybe a kinda FF thing to do lol or maybe it’s just super creepy and I’m weird lol

Well I'll go ahead and say not creepy at all, really cute actually. i love chatting with people so feel free to shoot me a message to chat anon.

Take comfort that like half of FF's insane anxieties are just me reliving my youth.

(tho my grandma was not a good baker / cook and may have in fact given me food poisoned me a couple times. Looking at you egg salad where she didn't consider peeling the eggs before mashing the eggs)

[arctrooper69]

Enemies to Lovers: Tech

A/N: Sorry it took so long! If you want to be tagged in this or any of my other stuff, feel free to shoot me a message!

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Warning: Brief mentions of broken bones and injury. Typical canon violence.

Chapter 5: Meet the Family

_________________________________________

Tech’s pov

Tech carefully watched the woman on the ground beside him as she slept. Y/N looked peaceful despite the fact that just minutes ago she’d gone white as a sheet when Tech examined her broken leg and then promptly passed out when he’d set it. She hadn’t made much of a fuss though, and for that Tech was very glad. He was certain he could physically keep Y/N still if he had to but he would rather not deal with all the drama. Dealing with emotions was something Hunter was naturally good at. He knew the right things to say while Tech always seemed to say the wrong thing. It was annoying. After all, wasn’t it only simple psychology? Tech frowned as his thoughts drifted to his brothers. He hadn’t heard from them since the explosion cut off their exit. He tried his comlink again and was met with a cold silence.

Jammed. Or the signal was lost when the ceiling caved in.

Y/N mumbled something in her sleep and he glanced over at her. With the anger and fear gone from her eyes, she looked younger.

Peaceful

It was such a stark contrast to her earlier attitude. Tech brushed a stray hair from her face. Y/n smiled and moved to nestle her face into his hand. He froze and almost wished she’d wake up and be repulsed by him - or even angry with him. Anything to get rid of this feeling that invaded his senses. It made him feel weak and Tech could not afford to be weak.

Not here.

Not with the empire breathing down our neck.

No, it was simply a reflex. She was cold and his hand was warm. It was only natural that the human body reacted in such a way to seek warmth.

Self preservation.

He nodded to himself, convinced now that there were no unexplained feelings. Just chemical reactions. He had let his imagination get the better of him, something he’d not done for a very long time. He must have hit his head in the explosion. Yet another reason to do a scan once they returned to the Marauder. Tech frowned in concentration as he turned back to the broken comlink. If only he could get somewhere higher to boost the signal.

The console.

That could work.

Carefully taking the wires from the bottom, he hooked one to the left of the com and the other on the right. With a few more tweaks, the comlink crackled to life.

Not perfect, but workable.

“Tech…respond...out…ship…signal” Hunter’s came through the static in pieces. Hopefully the connection would be better on their side. “Tech here,” he began. Best to keep communications short and simple. “Trapped in the console room. Heavy fire has blocked the exit.” His message was met with more screaming static. He was beginning to think the signal had dropped again when Hunter’s voice cut through again. It was much clearer this time.

Thank the Maker.

“…loud and clear, vod.” He could hear Wrecker whoop in the background.

“Good. However, the information has been compromised.” He replied steadily.

“That’s less than ideal but we’re gonna get you out of there. Hang on tight and get away from the door.”

“Understood.” Tech quickly backed away from the entrance just as a loud bang resounded, shaking the walls. The rubble blocking them in burst apart. Tech ducked to avoid being hit by the debris. Light from a headlamp streamed through enough to see Wrecker’s frame burst through the opening.

“See,” he shouted behind him, “I told you it wouldn’t collapse on ‘im!”

“I’d just like to get out before the whole kriffing thing explodes,” grunted Crosshair, annoyed that Wrecker was right. But at the same time, he was glad that his brother was safe.

“Crosshair was worried about ya, Tech.” teased Wrecker.

“Was not. I knew you were smart enough to not get yourself killed even with Mr Blow-It-All-To-Hell over here” Crosshair snarked back.

“Of course I’m smart enough to keep myself alive,” Tech rolled his eyes.

“Guys, enough,” said Hunter coming from behind his two brothers. He glanced at Tech, “Glad you’re ok, but Crosshair is right. We need to get out of here before the whole thing blows.” As if on cue another tremor shook the room. He looked past Tech to the unconscious figure behind him and frowned. “Who’s that?”

Tech glanced at y/n, “She was decoding the information when I arrived. She’s injured.”

“I say leave her,” Crosshair glanced over and then back into the hallway, narrowing his eyes.

“We’re not leaving her.” Tech said harshly. Hunter sighed and nodded at Wrecker who lifted the woman in his arms and began carrying her out the door.

“She could have useful information.” He motioned to Crosshair who slung his rifle over his shoulder and took the rear. Another explosion rocked the ship as the console burst into flames. “We need to leave. Now”

**********************************************

“…Y/n…”

“….empire….could be a threat…”

“…have some questions…”

Voices faded in and out. Tech was there…with some others.

His brothers.

He’d mentioned something about his brothers before. The room was cold. I shivered and opened my eyes.

Too bright.

I groaned and shut them again.

“She’s awake,” a low voice stated. I opened my eyes again, squinting at the brightness until my eyes slowly adjusted. A tall, gray-haired man with a toothpick in his mouth leaned against the door frame across the room, arms crossed. He had a tattoo of a blaster scope’s crosshairs on his scowling face.

Interesting choice.

He was wearing armor similar to Tech’s.

He doesn’t look too happy.

Nervously, I went to reach for my blaster but was stopped short by the binders securing my wrists to each side of the bed.

Shit. Not good. Very not good.

I gulped, my throat was dry and I felt suffocated.

Pull yourself together!

Breathe.

Don’t panic.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled at the restraints, testing them, trying to free myself.

“Hey, calm down.” Another voice drifted through the room. A man made his way over to me. He had longer hair and the side of his face was heavily tattooed. He didn’t sound threatening, but he didn’t sound calming either. It was more like a command. “We’re not going to hurt you, y/n” he said.

“Yet,” growled the taller man by the doorway.

“Crosshair,” the long haired man warned, giving him a sharp look. Crosshair shrugged and spat out his toothpick before walking out of the room. The long haired man looked back to me and crossed his arms.

“How…” I began. My voice was hoarse and dry. I coughed, swallowing thickly. “How do you know my name?”

“Tech told me,”

“Tech’s here?”

“Yes.”

I looked down at my leg. It didn’t hurt much anymore. Someone had affixed a bone mender to it. He followed my gaze. “Your leg should be healed in a few hours.”

“Thanks?” I spoke cautiously. “Am...am I free to leave?” I pulled at the binders again. He shook his head,

“You’re not going anywhere right now. Not until you answer some questions.” Tendrils of panic gripped again at my lungs, threatening to cut off my air supply. I took a deep breath, trying to will away the suffocating fear.

“And if I don’t?” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping I didn’t sound as strangled as I felt. My heart pounded.

Torture

Pain

Death

Mutilation

I was sure nothing good was awaiting me with his answer, but he only shrugged,

“Then I guess you’re stuck here.” I huffed in annoyance.

“Hunter?” Tech rounded the corner looking intently at a datapad. “I think we…” he stopped and lowered the datapad. “Oh, you’re awake.”

[maria-rayro]

Charlie receives a message from Hector. An interesting message.

Charlie sits on the set and controls the whole process, focusing on his director's work. He corrects Kate, who has strayed again from the script and stubbornly asserts that her version of the line sounds much better than the one he wrote, and Lonnit is about to confront her when he suddenly receives a message. He opens it without hesitation, seeing that it is from Hector, and at the very same moment he almost drops the phone on the floor, catching it at the last moment.

It's... nothing special, just a picture. He's not even completely naked. He just unbuttoned his shirt. The tie is still on, relaxed around his strong neck. And his hand, it's... God, it's right on his groin. Charles swallows, not immediately even moving his gaze to the lines of text that followed the photo.

"Miss you. How soon you'll be home?"

"Charlie, is everything okay?" asks Mark curiously and innocently, and Jamie looks at the director and immediately smirks.

"Damn, Charlie, you're red," she says, guessing what might have made the director so embarrassed.

Lonnit awkwardly reflexively tilts the phone screen so no one can see anything, and with his free hand adjusts his glasses. "It's stuffy in here," he excuses pathetically, then pulls himself together. "Okay, I'm going to go have a smoke and calm down now so I can stop yelling at you. And while I'm doing that, Kate, for God's sake, repeat your fucking text!" he says sternly, along with putting on his jacket, which had cigarettes and a lighter in its pocket, and hurrying outside to get some privacy to answer Hector's message without feeling Jamie's mocking stare on him.

"First of all, HECTOR PLEASE NEVER DO THIS IM TRYING TO WORK-"

"Second, you're very handsome and I can't stop thinking about how lucky I am to be with you."

"Third, I'll be home in two hours, I hope. I have to finish shooting one scene and then shoot another one."

He bites his lip, pondering before deciding to write another message.

"Will you wait for me?"

As Hector types his reply, Lonnit returns a slightly embarrassed look to the photo. He bites his lip, feeling terribly embarrassed, more like a teenager rather than a grown man. He's often felt that way around Hector.

"Sure. And when you come, be sure I'll do anything to make you beg."

Charlie bites his lip, putting the phone away, and pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, and then finally smoking. He feels like a young boy, capable of getting turned on by the smallest trifle. One picture and one text message. God. His ears burn with shame, and various thoughts keep popping into his head. What Hector might do to him, how exactly he might make him beg... Because Hector, he, oh, he knew how to do it. He could do absolutely crazy things to him, in fact. Bring him to tears of pleasure consistently once a week. Make him whimper and beg for an orgasm or even for just a simple touch.

Charles shakes his head to force himself to get rid of these distracting thoughts. He pulls back his phone.

"I'll try to finish quickly."

The answer comes right away.

"Oh, trust me, I won't let you."

"Or did you mean your work?"

Charles rolls his eyes, feeling the blush on his cheeks and smiling.

"Silly."

He thinks for a while, staring dreamily at the screen, then still opens his camera and takes a simple picture of himself with a cigarette and sends it to Hector.

"Made me blush. Satisfied?"

The answer comes some time later, and Charles realizes that Munday was staring at his picture and couldn't look away.

"Satisfied."

"Waiting at home."

Charlie smiles softly, turning off his phone and tossing out his cigarette. He feels intoxicated with love and exhilarated by the sweet anticipation of a date night.

He quickly gets back to work, completely ignoring Jamie's looks and jokes, just hoping to get the job done as soon as possible. In the end, he even agrees to Kate's edits to his script - just so he'll be able as soon as he can finish the scene, get free and go home, where Hector is waiting for him.

Hector. His man. His love.

The only person that can make him feel this way.

And nothing else really matters.

[ataraxiaspainting]

F A Q.

masterlist: it's in the works but not at the moment!

posting days: i'm trying to work on a more stable posting schedule for stories but i will most likely be answering inbox messages on fridays, saturdays, and sundays! mostly saturdays though.

tagging: feel free to tag me in anything! as long as the post in question does not do harm to me or others, of course.

writing history: ever since i was little, i've pretty much always had a love for making up stories and saving them on my laptop. i got into x reader works when i was in middle school i think... still am just as much into them now as i was back then.

art history: i've always loved to draw/sculpt too! i may not be the best at making art myself, but i have always loved looking at other people's works, especially paintings. my current pfp is actually a painting of ophelia from shakespeare's hamlet, done by alexandre cabanel.

music taste: i really only listen to classical and k-pop/j-pop, along with game osts. though my queen mitski breaks her way into my on repeat playlist multiple times a day. my favorite songs from her are buffalo replaced, i bet on losing dogs, i will, francis forever, my love mine all mine, i want you, stay soft, class of 2013, townie and last words of a shooting star. non-mitski songs are often either by red velvet, twice, king gnu, or kenshi yonezu.

book recommendations: i read a lot on days i'm not so busy, mostly reading thriller/horror stories. my main recommendations are notes from the underground by fyodor dostoevsky, i have no mouth, and i must scream by harlan elison, the cask of amontillado by edgar allan poe, the stranger by albert camus, the metamorphosis by franz kafka, uzumaki by junji ito, the talented mr. ripley by patricia highsmith, the collector by john fowles, misery by stephen king, coraline by neil gaiman.

favorite tropes: lovers to enemies, enemies to lovers, the reluctant hero, paying the price for victory, the mysterious neighbor next door, a deal with the devil, the unhappy ending, cults and religious extremists, mysterious things are happening, seducing an archenemy for an opportunity.

other fun facts:

-> i'm a criminology major.

-> i played a lot of instruments and sang a lot when i was younger. i'm trying to get back into it now. my favorite instrument to play was the electric violin and my favorite type of music to sing was choir-like osts like mourning from nier automata, lacrimosa from the one and only mozart, and song of the ancients from nier replicant.

-> i'm a huge animal lover. i often watch streams of horror movies, listen to video essays, or write while snuggling up with one of my dogs. i also often volunteer in community service, with most of it being either being at a shelter/adoption event or some sort of event involving a fundraiser in schools. i once happened to do an adoption event that happened to be fundraising more resources for schoolchildren, and it was one of the best moments of my life. got to pet a lot of animals too, and that made the time like ten times better.

CURRENT ANONS -> childe anon

this post will be edited/added to as life goes on.

[hyunsoolgc]

(    >    Hello, it’s Sera ( @lgcseojin ) and I would like to introduce you to aspiring actor, Lee Hyunsoo! With him, I would love to fill in the gaps with people I have not yet gotten the chance to thread/plot with; especially if you think that he could have an interaction with your muse! He’s a bit of an interesting character with quite a few eccentricities, so please feel free to check out the TLDR about him below! I don’t have a twt but you can reach me on discord if you ask for it. If you're interested in plotting, shoot me a message or like ♡ this post and I will get back to you if I can think of something!  )

>    𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆  /  𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒓  /  𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔

BACKGROUND !!

Came into this cursed world February 2nd, 2002 (020202).

Born in Seongnam. But they lived in Honolulu for about 5 years until he was 9 or 10 years old before moving back. Mother had a bit of a breakdown and decided their old house was cursed after Hyunsoo fell and broke his arm. She had a mansion commissioned that took years to build.

His mother, Hwang Jiyoon, is a traditional Korean (Pansori) singer, and his father, Lee Minjae, is a renowned piano prodigy and the only member of his family who he feels has been kind to him.

Has an older brother that’s a professional composer and violinist who he's been at odds with since childhood ( mother's doing ) and a younger sister that’s interested in studying fashion.

He often feels like the forgotten middle child.

His parents ( okay, well mostly mom ) pushed him to sing & play piano from a young age and he just ran with it after a while to passively please them.

In middle school he "rebelled" by joining a youth baseball team, despite having no previous interest in sports. Ended up quitting when high school came around but continued to idly go to batting ranges or played soccer with his few friends.

Went to Hanlim out of obligation to his parents but ended up not minding it ( especially since he ended up meeting some friends there! ), and it was a lot better than just being forced to do piano recitals.

However, he was bullied pretty badly by this one group of guys ( specifically one of them ) and kind of hasn't recovered from how traumatic all of it was. It changed him a fair amount and someone who was more meek and generous became closed off and aloof.

To top it off, his mother is a... pretty horrible person. Kids with narcissistic mothers, please stand up.

OTHER STUFF & PERSONALITY !!

Thinks he doesn’t deserve to be an actor because he’s convinced his parents used their money to help him get into the company. ( Despite it not being true. )

As of January 2024 he has repaired his relationship with his brother and gone no contact with his mother after an especially bad fight during chuseok.

Major imposter syndrome alert.

Often buys things for his friends without much question; however, he keeps a very detailed list of those who owe him and how much. ( Does he expect them to pay him back? Nah, but it's funny to pull up randomly. )

Although he puts on more of an act "on stage", he finds value in being sincere in who he is and not changing his personality, even if he comes across as a bit cold and awkward at first.

Has a difficult time making friends and being social but he is trying his best.

Aquarius sun, Libra moon, Pisces rising

Looks like a cinnamon roll, is probably one. He seems warm and approachable because of his appearance but is actually quite composed and polite.

Tends to be more stoic (in a soft way) but the more you get to know him, the more talkative he becomes.

That being said, he has the tendency to "fact attack". He is very honest with his opinions though not necessarily about his feelings or other things.

Pretty noncommittal as in, fickle and not interested in relationships over his career. Has had a few somes than an actual relationship.

When he’s not doing schedules, he’s playing video games, especially on the computer he built and customized himself. Obsessed ( and I mean obsessed ) with video games in general. Good luck trying to get him away from Elden Ring, he's still on that train.

If he wasn’t aiming to be an actor, he would be in a field that deals with computer science and technology.

A notable and open fan of multiple girl groups; especially Twice and Oh My Girl. Crystallis and Fabula, too, obviously. He didn't forget about the boy groups either. He is something of an idol connoisseur.

He did not know how to dance when he was accepted into the company.

Claims he intends to friend-zone his fans. ( And everyone else, probably. )

Still not comfortable with some of the stuff celebs have to do. He doesn’t seem to like acting so close to actual strangers, and the crowding some fans do make him pretty anxious. However, he's good at acting cute.

Believes aliens and ghosts are real.

His favorite fanservice is making finger hearts in creative and strange ways.

His acting idols are Kang Haneul, Do Kyungsoo and Seo Inguk.

Has a panic disorder and will often self-isolate when things are not going well.

Wears glasses and can’t see that well without them. He can technically afford Lasik but he thinks the glasses give him a certain charm.

Afraid of heights; will basically physically shut down and cry if he has to go up somewhere too high.

Certified lover of cats. He wants to adopt a kitten when he gets his own place. UPDATE: He has adopted a 14 year old cat named Cocoa Bean.

[always-on-tatooine]

MaulxReader part 12: The Badlands

I am so sorry to those who have not been reading this on AO3. I have been horribly ignoring my Tumblur.  I went ahead and used the same tags list from before, but I can update that list for the next chapters coming out. Please let me know if you want off the list. No hard feelings :)

Recap from the last chapter: After fighting off pirates over ship parts, (y/n) convinced Maul to join her at a nearby bar. While there, they find themselves in a bar fight that becomes large enough to attract the attention of nearby patrolling storm troopers. They nearly escaped, and celebrate their success back at the hut over drinks. Drunk, the two became very affectionate, which leads to emotional tension in the days to come.

Warning: Mentions of killing and some angst between (y/n) and Maul.  I also want to let people know that this story will start to look into the childhood trauma of both Maul and (Y/n) in the next few chapters. I will of course leave trigger warnings as needed but feel free to message me if you have any questions about the warnings.

5k word count

Masterlist link:https://always-on-tatooine.tumblr.com/post/640968824459526144/shooting-stars-maulxreader-masterlist

@justalittlecloud @a-dorin @hornystarwarsbisexual @spookiifi @lovelyzabrak-meadow @pinkiemme @maulieber @joslynuniverse @dollar-tree-witchcraft @lalalandbutbetter @zabrak-show @jedi-bitch @enchantress666 @plant-loving-stranger @ilovemaul @thebadlybrokenproblematic @darthmaulslut   @groguisacutii @spung-bung @maulpunk @crimsonbun @tacticalsparkles

As the sun began to creep over the grassy blue planes, (y/n) was still in her bed; tossing about from what was yet another restless night filled with nightmares. The bedsheets twisted as her body began to flail around until the dream was too potent, forcing her to awake. Like a spring, her body jolted into an upright position as her eyes briskly welcomed the waking world. However, just as soon as she awakened, so too did the nightmare disappear. Though sweat ran down her body and her breathing, heavy to match her rapid beating heart, she could not remember what had taken place in her dream to deserve such reaction. The only thing that remained from what had played through her mind was the feeling of dread, and the lingering smell of something burning.

At least she thought the smell of smoke had followed her from her dream. With each passing breath, the distinct smell of flames morphed into something more pleasant and savory. It did not take (y/n) long to realize that her companion was already awake and had started making breakfast without her. With one last deep breath, the young farmer lifted the sweat-drenched sheets from her being and made her way towards the kitchen.

Just as she had expected, the familiar crimson Zabrak had started preparing a meal. Stirring something over the oven, he addressed his apprentice, his attention still focused on the food at hand, “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

Her master’s tone was suspicious, indicating that he already knew the answer to his inquiry. Despite the obvious, (y/n) did not choose her responses carefully. “Yep, never slept better.”

Maul took a moment from his kitchen tasks to look over his student, “Are you sure about that? You do not look well-rested…”

The young apprentice began to set the table for the meal that was being prepared, “So what, are you now using the force to measure how well I’m sleeping?”

“It doesn’t take a force user to hear you tossing about at night.” Maul’s voice was a mixture of both concern and disappointment from his apprentice’s dishonesty, “After all, your sleeping quarters are not exactly far from the couch I sleep on.”

(Y/n) face began to turn red. She was not sure which was more embarrassing; the fact that she was caught in her lie, or the idea of Maul sleeping so close to her room. If he was able to hear her toss about in her sleep, then he must be aware that most nights were like this for her.

Maul moved his attention to the cutting board, chopping up more roots to be added to the meal. Over the rhythmic chopping sounds, he continued his investigation, “How long have you been having trouble sleeping?”

With the table set, (y/n) walked over to a nearby counter, leaning her body weight against it, “These nightmares… they started just sometime before you arrived. They happen less frequently now, but…”

The beat of the knife against the cutting board stopped as Maul looked in his apprentice’s direction. She was no longer looking towards her teacher, but rather at the floor.

Zuzu must have also sensed the tension from her person. Rising from a nearby shelf that she had been sleeping on, she gave a quick stretch before making her way down to rub up against (y/n)’s leg. Picking up the fluffy Lothcat, the farmer began to pet her fur as she continued the conversation.

“Each night that I have these nightmares… I can never remember them when I wake up.” (Y/n)’s voice began to change as strong emotions began to wrap around themselves at the base of her throat, “All that remains from them… is this feeling of pain and suffering…”

Several things could cause a force user to have nightmares like this, Maul thought to himself. He wanted to continue his inquiry, yet before he could ask more questions, Maul’s thoughts were interrupted by his apprentice, “It looks like breakfast is almost done. Anything else I can do to help?”

It was clear to Maul that (y/n) did not want to continue this conversation. Her (y/ec) eyes gleamed with the tears that she fought back while she held Zuzu tightly in her arms. It seemed that it may be best to drop the subject in the meantime. Pouring what was left on the cutting board into the pan, he gave the food a quick stir before he turned off the heat of the stove. “Yes, you’re correct, breakfast is almost ready. Can you pass me the salt please?”

“Yes, of course,” Giving Zuzu a quick kiss on top of her head, (y/n) let the purring lothcat back onto the floor. Wiping her wet tired eyes, the apprentice shook off the remaining feelings from the previous conversation and began her quest to help finish breakfast.

Living out on the farm alone most of her life (y/n) never really needed to give things a permanent home in her house. Small items, such as food spices, though they never left the kitchen, would move around from time to time. Opening various cupboard doors, she hastily looked around until she found what she was looking for. There, on the top shelf of the highest cupboard was the canister she was looking for, and just out of arms reach.

Looking back at her master, she could see that he was still focused on finishing up the meal he had prepared. With stubborn determination, she was certain she could get the salt down herself. First, she tried to move it with the force. Taking a deep breath, she reached her hand out and tried to focus the jar towards herself. The salt began to shake inside its container but was halted in its tracks.

“Did you find the salt yet?” Maul called over his shoulder.

“Almost, still looking for it,” (y/n) lied, embarrassed that after weeks of training she still could not lift the simplest of household items through the force. With the jar still out of reach, she figured she would do what she had always done before she started her force training and climb up to grab it herself. Hoisting her knee on the counter, she lifted herself up, bringing herself to eye-level of the targeted prize.

(Y/n) could not see from this position, but from the sound of Maul’s voice it was clear that he had finally turned around towards her direction, “(Y/n)… what are you doing?” With the jar just at her fingertips, she was too determined to stop her hasty task, “Just… almost got it…”

“Ah, here it is!” (Y/n)’s fingers grasped the jar in succession. However, she had been so focused on grabbing the salt that she had not calculated the position of her body as she stood on the kitchen counter. It only took the smallest shift to cause the apprentice to lose balance.

Within seconds, (y/n) found that her foot was no longer balanced on the counter as her body began to plummet to the kitchen floor. She only had a short amount of time to accept such fates and attempt to position herself for the best landing she could afford herself. When her body made impact, however, it was not the painful feeling she had expected. Instead of looking up from the ground, she instead saw the close image of her teacher’s face, his brilliant yellow eyes looking down at her.

Maul had anticipated such disasters once he saw how his apprentice was attempting to get the spice jar down. This made it easy for him to catch her smaller form once she lost her balance. (Y/n) on the other hand, was not prepared for this; particularly not being in such close proximity to him.

It had been three weeks since they had fought the Weequay pirates over the abandoned shipwreck. It was also the same night that Maul and (Y/n) had narrowly escaped the Empire troopers that had responded to the barfight that started on their behalf. Though her memory was fuzzy, she also remembered that was the night she had attempted to kiss Maul as well. Though the ending of such an eventful evening only came to her mind in broken fragments, the image of kissing Maul in a drunken throw of passion would often spring into her mind the days that followed. She did her best to push the thoughts deep down in her mind. ‘It must have been a dream,’ she would try to convince herself. Yet, each time she thought of the night, the soft feeling of Maul’s lips would linger on hers, a phantom feeling that stayed as if they had just kissed in that very moment.

Yet, no matter how intense that short moment had felt between the two of them, Maul never once brought it up. (Y/n) had feared that this lack of communication involving that night would make things awkward between herself and her teacher, yet his demeanor towards her never changed. In the weeks that had passed, Maul would behave as if nothing had happened at all. Could Maul have gotten so drunk that night that he had not remembered?

Whether Maul was aware of that night’s events or not, his apprentice certainly was. With such knowledge, it made things more difficult for (y/n) as her master looked down at her in his arms. Though she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, Maul’s facial expressions, in contrast, were of that of concern, “(Y/n), are you ok?”

Before she had a chance to say anything, the moment was interrupted by a loud siren sound that filled the whole hut. Quickly, (y/n) got up and ran into the living room. Maul followed her as she ran to a datapad that hung on the side of the wall. Blinking red, the screen showed a saucer-shaped ship as it flew only a few meters over the grass planes.

“Karabast, we're under attack!” (Y/n) cried as she reached for a rifle that leaned on a nearby wall.

Maul took a closer look at the screen. What he could see on such a small screen, it did in fact look as though the ship was heading their way, “Shouldn’t the ship be setting off the mines so close to the ground?” he inquired as he grabbed his lightsaber from his belt.

“They must have done something to their engine mechanics. A ship that size should be setting off the bombs with their anti-gravity converter.” (Y/n) grabbed onto a rope that hung from the ceiling. With a sharp tug, a hatch from above swung down, bringing a rope latter with it that lead towards the roof. “However, it is possible, with the right kind of work, someone could keep their ships from setting off the mines.”

Without another word, (y/n) harnessed the rifle over her shoulders and began to climb up the later. With Maul right behind her, the farmer reached the roof, landing her eyes on the invading ship that enclosed its space between them by the second.

Holding a scope in her hand, she peered through to confirm her suspicions. The ship did in fact pass over the midfield barrier and was making its way to her home at full speed.

Attaching a scope to her rifle, she got herself into position and took aim. No matter how skilled the ship’s mechanic had been, an altered anti-gravity converter was not going to keep (y/n) from shooting this ship down. As she got ready to pull the trigger, she saw something she did not expect. The loading pad of the ship began to open, and hanging from the opened ship, was a makeshift white flag that flew through the air in a testimony of surrender. What made thing’s worst, was that (y/n) recognized the individual that was hanging out the ship waving said flag.

With an anguished sigh, (y/n) lowered her rifle and threw it back over her shoulder. “Come on, we better go greet them.”

Maul, who had already climbed up the later behind (y/n), raised a tattooed brow, “Friends of yours?”

“Hardly,” (y/n) positioned herself onto the latter and began to descend. “All the more reason to find out why he’s here.”

Planting her boots down on the floor of her hut, she could see the interior of her home began to shake as the spacecraft got closer. Zuzu scurried around the house in a hast panic as the ship was visible just outside the windows, positioning itself to land near the hut. (Y/n) pushed the front door open as she bore witness to the hanger opening the rest of the way while the craft made its landing.

Just as (y/n) had figured, only one person would be crazy enough to disarm their ship so that they could fly to her doorstep; and that particular person was now walking out of his ship and headed right towards her.

Maul lingered near the door, hiding in the shadow of the archway so that he would not be seen. With one hand on his holstered lightsaber, he was ready to attack the moment the invading crew showed to be hostile. To Maul’s surprise, he too recognized the leader of the ship as we walked down the landing pad.

Though their encounter was brief, he still remembered the name of the pirate who had made his alliance with Kenobi. Hondo Ohnaka was not someone he thought he would ever see again. Yet, a planet as crime-driven as this one was, Maul figured he should not be so surprised that the likes of him would find his way to Okaron.

“Ah, Lady (Y/n),” Hondo greeted the young farmer, as he walked off the loading ramp. Stopping a few feet in front of the farmer, the pirate leader twirled his hand in the air as he bowed in her direction, “it is an honor to make your acquaintance again.”

Crossing her arms, (y/n) knew that Hondo would not have risked his life just to be generous. Looking past the captain, she gestured towards the ship that had just landed as a couple of pirates slowly made their way off the ship. “Pretty ballsy of you to fly all the way out here. I can see that you altered your engines so that my mines did not go off from the pressure of your anti-gravity converter. Smart move, except that your ship can’t use its laser canons any more.”

“Ah yes, I remember you keep your farm rather secure here in the middle of nowhere.” Hondo lifted his hands in the air to the immediate surroundings around the farm. “I remember it like yesterday, my crew had gotten word of a young farmer, just barely older than a youngling, had established themselves out here. My men and I thought it would be a simple job; stealing candy from a child as they say. Oh, but did you show us wrong. I think I lost some good men that day…”

(Y/n) was not entertained by Hondo’s attempt to recollect the time she first encountered the pirate, “Get to the point Hando, why would you risk coming out there?”

“Ah, yes, I’m so happy you asked. You see, I have a proposition for you.”

“We're not interested!” Maul stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself to the pirate crew.

Each of the crewmembers, including Hondo, jumped in disbelief. “Y-you! What are you doing here?!”

(Y/n) turned an eyebrow towards Maul, “You two know each other?”

“Know each other?!” Hondo interrupted before Maul could respond, “This guy nearly destroyed my whole crew! He and his brother came into our safehold, waving their red lightsabers about and bribing my men with money!”

“Brother?” Before (Y/n) could question more, Maul continued to intervene. “We don’t have time for the likes of you. Whatever you have to offer, we are not interested.”

Tugging on Maul’s black sleeves, (y/n) tilted her head into the direction she wanted her teacher to follow for a more private conversation. Once they were a few feet away from the pirates, she explained, “Look, I don’t like this scumbag as much as the next person, but he’s one of the few people on Okaron who has access to getting off this planet. If he wants something from us, then we might just be able to negotiate supplies from him.”

‘Few who have access off this planet?’ Maul was very aware that ships rarely came to this planet. It was one of the reasons that it had been so hard for him to get access to the ship parts that he needed. As for Hondo Ohnaka, it was not until after Maul had become the leader of the crime syndicate did he learn of his reputation of being such an effective smuggler. However, his reputation also came with that of an untrustworthy nature. “Are you sure we can trust him?”

“Oh ho, I think I see what’s going on here,” Still standing where the two had left him, Hondo interrupted their conversation with laughter. The commotion was enough to regain both of their attention back towards him. “Now that the war is over, you thought you would retire on a nice farm with a pretty lady then.”

Maul positioned himself into a fighting stance, red hand hovering over his weapon, “I’ve fought you and your men before pirate. What’s to stop me from doing it again…”

“Ha! You don’t scare me! Last I saw of you, me and my crew were shooting you and your brother out of the sky.”

“Get to the point Hondo!” (y/n) interrupted the bickering between the two. She was eager to move the conversation along. After all, the faster she could get the pirates to leave her home, the better. “What’s your proposition?”

“Ah yes, I have a mission for you.” Hando began to run his thumb over his chin, “I’m sure you recall a shipwreck that you ransacked a few weeks back.”

“What of it?” (y/n) stood there guarded, waiting to see where the conversations were headed.

“You did quite a number on my men that day. Took out an entire fleet!”

“Oh, those were your men, I didn’t notice…” (Y/n) responded with a sarcastic tone.

“Don’t be coy with me young miss! You did a lot of damage to my crew.” In excitement and rage, Hando held his hand out in Maul’s direction, “Now that I see that you’re running around with this angry pointed-headed psycho here, I can see why!”

Maul let out a slow growl as he began to reach for his lightsaber. Before his fingers could grasp the hilt, (y/n) calmly laid her arms out in front of her teacher in protest of his actions. “You’ve been on this planet enough times to know rules out here Hondo. Finders keepers, and whoever does the better job at keeping something, wins.”

“Yes, yes, I’m very aware of that.” Turning his back on the two, Hondo causally waved his hands as he walked towards one of his crew members. “I’m not mad that you killed my crew members, or even that you looted the wreckage. What upsets me, is what you stopped my crew from doing, and forced me to come here to do myself.”

“And what exactly did you have to come all this way to come do?”

Retrieving something from one of his crewmembers, Hondo returned his attention back to the farmer, with a glimmer in his eye, “To find secrets…”

In the palm of his hand, Hondo held a holograph device. With the push of a button, a map with a set of coordinates came into view. “You see, the ship you looted was an older republic ship. Inside its memory drive was a secret location on this planet.”

“Why would the Republic of had any interest in this planet?” Maul chimed in.

“My job is not to ask questions my tattooed friend,” Hondo shook his head. “My job is to know just how much the information of this secret location is worth to the new empire.” “What makes you think the Empire is interested in this information?” (y/n) inquired.

“Again, with the questions!” Hondo rolled his eyes, “I did not come to this planet, rummage through the bodies of my dead crew members, then disarm my ship, just for you two to ask me so many questions!” Hondo had become rather heated as he ranted about his recent transactions. However, he took a deep breath before he attempted to negotiate again. “No my dear, I’m here to present you with an offer. Take these quadrates and follow them. It might be a little dangerous, but… what part of this planet isn’t” Hando chuckled. Once you're there, look for any information that may be valuable, gather the data, then meet me at a rendezvou point for the tradeoff.”

Arms still crossed over her arms, (y/n) glaired in Hondo’s direction. Even with the mentions of danger, she could tell that the captain was not being fully honest. “Why come all this way to ask me to do it? Surely you could have hired any other mercenary to do this job.”

Hondo paused for a moment before answering the question at hand, “That’s because my dear, the secret location is located in the Badlands.”

Behind Hondo, members of his crew could be seen giving each other worrisome glances. Such responses caused Maul to raise his eyebrow.

“So, basically what your saying is that everyone else is too scared to go?” (y/n) proclaimed.

“Exactly! But you, young lady, you have spirit! In all these years I’ve done business on this planet, never have I met someone as determined as you. Whether I was trying to commandeer your farm, or higher you for your skills, never have you let anything get in your way!”

(Y/n) stayed guarded. She knew better than to let a pirate sweet talk himself out of a deal, “Your words are sweet Hondo, but they’re not enough to pay me for what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, of course, I would be willing to negotiate business with you.”

Stepping forward, Maul inserted himself into the conversation, “We want a ride off this planet!”

“Nu-uh! No way!” Hondo swung his arms down in protest, “I’m not letting a crazy like you onto my ship!”

(Y/n) sent a quick glare in her teacher’s direction, expressing her aggravation in Maul’s interference with her negotiations. “Fine then, if you won’t provide transportation, then at least provide us with the parts we need to repair our own ship.”

“Hmmm…” Hondo’s chin found itself between his thumb and forefinger, “Ship parts are getting harder to come by these days. This new Empire has put a gridlock on all condemned warships”

“Welp, that’s my price,” (y/n) held her hands in the air to signal an end to their bargaining. Turning her back on the pirate, she began to walk away, “It seems to me that this information isn’t that valuable to you after all. Good luck finding someone else to do it.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hondo called out, stopping the farmer in her tracks. “I like you kid. As I said, you have spirit and that’s hard to come by these days.” With a deep sigh, Hondo could see there was no way to make (y/n) budge from her offer. “Fine, make a list of the parts you need, and my men will give you the coordinates and the rendezvou point…”

A few hours later, the deal was finalized between the two parties. Goodbyes were exchanged and the pirate vessel left the same way that it arrived; causing the ground to quake before making its distance. Together, (y/n) and Maul watched the pirates make their departure, and with Hondo and his crew gone, all that was left was an indent the blue grass where the ship had made its landing.

With the crew gone, (Y/n) felt that she could finally address her teacher, “What was that back there?”

“What do you mean?” Maul questioned bewildered expression on his tattooed face.

“I could have handled those negotiations myself,” frustrated, the young farmer stomped away as she continued her lecture. “I know you want off this planet so badly. You’ve expressed your disgust in this place enough times. But your interference could have ruined the whole deal with Hondo.”

“I was trying to get US off this planet!” Maul followed his student as he began to plead his case. “You saw the empire troopers the other night. It will not be long until they commandeer the whole planet. With every second that passes, it becomes more dangerous for a force user such as yourself to be on this planet.”

(Y/n) paused before turning around to face her teacher again, “Us? You mean you want me to come with you when you leave?”

Maul looked towards (Y/n) with confusion, “Did you honestly think I would leave you behind here?”

(Y/n) looked across her farm. I had taken so long to establish herself on such a small corner of this outer rem planet. She had never once thought about the idea of leaving her home planet. With such little transportation off the grass-covered rock, most who were born on Okaron, were barred there too. Of course, she always wanted to see other planets. To travel the stars and see what else was out there past her atmosphere. Yet, when one lives a life full of farming, and fighting to survive, so little time could be spent dreaming of other worlds.

(Y/n) wanted to say something but failed to formulate her thoughts into words. Before she had a chance to speak, Maul continued, “You are my apprentice now. It is my job to train you in the ways of the Sith. To teach you to hone your skills and obtain true power. The resources on this planet are limited, and the presence of the force is weak here. There are other planets that are more suited to your training… other planets where you will be safe.”

‘HIS apprentice. Of course, that’s why he wants me to come with him.’ Maul’s words made (y/n) stomach sink. The thought that he would only want her to leave her home behind so that he could continue her training made her furious. ‘All he sees me as is his student… nothing else,’ the words rolled through her head as her hands balled into fist by her side. She was not quite sure exactly why the concept upset her so, but just the same her face burned with fury until she could no longer face the Zabrak that stood before her. With an aggravated grunt, (y/n) turned her back on her master and stormed off, leaving Maul behind and confused.

*********************************************************************

Hours after their argument, (y/n) was finishing facining down that last bit of supplied they would need for the long journey to the speeder. With the time she had spent by herself preparing for the journey, she had time to reflect on her feelings; particularly the wave of anger she had so recently experienced with Maul. Though this allowed her to so calm down, she was still bewildered as to why his words had upset her so. What was she expecting when he said he wanted her to leave the planet with him? Clearly, their relationship was built around him teaching her the ways of the force. So then why did the words he say make her so mad?

Lost in thought, she did not sense her master watching her from the archway. He stood there for a bit, studying her behaviors and the subtle changes in her facial expressions as she thought to herself; ensuring that she was calm enough to address. Quietly, he thought to himself what would be the best way to start a conversation with his student. Still unaware of what had upset her so much from the beginning, he thought he would pick his words carefully. Once he found the right words to say did he let his presence be known, “Why do they call it the Badlands?”

Ripped from her thoughts, (y/n)’s body jumped a little at the sudden noise. Yet, once she turned and realized it was Maul who has asked the question, she let out an aggravated sigh. Even after so much time away from her teacher, seeing his face still made her blood boil. “It’s called the Badlands because it’s a part of the planet where nothing grows. It’s a place of nothing but dirt and rubble.”

Maul’s golden eye’s darted to the side. Clearly, she was still upset about what she had said earlier. ‘What on this planet did I say to make her so mad?’ Still, Maul thought it was best to just stay on this subject for now. At least she was talking to him again. “Then why do people fear to go there?”

With their supplies now strapped to the sides of the speeder, (y/n) began to harness her weapons to her being, “Rumor says the place is haunted. That bad things happen, children going missing… there all ghost stories really. The kind that parents tell their children to keep them from wandering into the area.”

Leaning against a nearby wall, Maul began to relax a little as his apprentice began to open up more, “Is that something people use to tell you when you were growing up?” (Y/n) paused for a long moment. Standing in silence, she carefully shifted through her mind before responding, “I don’t know…I can’t remember.”

Her words were eery to Maul’s ears. What did she mean she could not remember? Did she just not want to share memories of her past, or did she actually struggle to recall such details from her childhood? Or, perhaps she was still mad from their conversation from earlier. Whatever her reasoning was, Maul felt it might be best to apologize, even if he did not understand what he had done wrong. “(Y/n), I…”

“Let’s talk about it later,” (y/n) interrupted her master. From the tone in Maul’s voice, she could tell where the conversation was headed, and a lengthy apology was not something she was in the mood for. “We have a long ride ahead of us, and the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can rid ourselves of any dealings with Hondo.”

[prismaticpichu]

Soooo I’ve never made a proper introduction post. Hmm. Welp I’ve got 10 minutes to kill so let’s do this! Plz accept the following miscellaneous facts to get acquainted better!

Lil’ About Me:

I got my hands on a console when I was about 3yos, which subsequently sparked my love for video games and the like! Some of my favorites have to be Kirby’s Return to Dreamland, Pokemon SoulSilver, Splatoon, FF7, and Smash Bros Brawl-Ultimate!

I ’m somewhere between the 9th grade and my freshman year of college!

My favorite food is chocolate lava cake! I become an absolute monster whenever it’s served and wolf it down before anyone else can get a bite. Sorry, but survival of the fittest!

I love to write and draw in my unhealthily abundant spare time!! Speaking of which-

I love writing fanfics (though I’ll only work with platonic ones)! I’m the kinda person who gets so so SO attached to a character/the world they’re from, and being able to give them a happy ending is my way of coping! Currently I’m shoulders-deep in my Crisis Core obsession, where most of anything I do revolves around keeping Sephiroth from going down in flames! (If you’re a person who’s turned off by/uninterested in fanfiction, then that’s totally fine! No hard feelings. I know both perspectives, and it’s definitely not for everyone.)

You’ll find me forgetting that Sephiroth is a villain 3/4 of the time! Like a really really evil villain. Nope! To me he’s just a squishy burnt marshmallow who’s Zack’s best buddy and big brother!

I also freaking love Leatherhead from TMNT like god darn is this thing a precious bean!! <3

I hope to be a psychologist one day! I’ve always been fascinated by the human mind and why we make the decisions we do!

My sense of humor is loud, obnoxious, and verrry unapologetic! You can try to shut me up but there’s a 99.9% chance I’m gonna prattle on anyway. It’s just in my blood to embarrass myself left and right!

I’m here for the same reasons you prolly are: to find people who share my obsessions and dance in them together! There’ll never be a time where my asks/DMs won’t be open! Feel free to shoot me a message whenever you’d like, no matter the reason or time!!

It’s a pleasure to meet you!! I hope we can get along! <3

[rubykgrant]

This had been Donut’s idea, so he shouldn’t feel nervous or awkward about it… he’s also been through a LOT recently, this was no big deal. Sure. Right. Just FINALLY listening to what was evidently a personalized good-bye message from somebody who had given up their existence to save him, all his friends, and a whole planet. Easy-peasy.

He supposes this only feels odd because it had taken so long. If Donut had just played it way back when… never mind, he couldn’t change that or un-do it. The thing to do was make better choices NOW. It was important for him to watch this, even if it turned out the message itself wasn’t something important; he had to know what it was, and if it didn’t matter, he could just move on without worrying over it anymore. If it DID matter, then he would be able to do something about it, good or bad. Somehow, even though it was hard to picture Church getting all warm-n-fuzzy with everybody, the fact that they all had messages made Donut feel a little hopeful.

Donut closes the door to his room, and lets out a little sigh as he removes his helmet. Before setting it up to play the message, he stares fondly at it, turning it over in his hands… pink. His helmet was pink, his armor was pink, HE was pink. Pink was good. Actually, pink was WONDERFUL. Pink was a pretty color, bright and happy, soft and warm, sweet and charming. He was never going to stop being pink, no matter what. He was never going to act like he didn’t like pink, or that pink was a bad color, ever again. Pink was a strong color, too (at least it was on Donut).

His hair tumbles down around his face now that it is free. It is longer on one side… it has been like this for a while, and maybe it always would be (he had a scar on that side of his face, and part of his scalp had been burned as well… the hair on that spot had taken a long time to grow back, and it didn’t seem to be in any hurry to catch up with the rest of his hair). He had light yellow hair as a child, then it pulled that little trick that happens to a lot of blondes; it went a mousy brown as he got older. Maybe it was time he started having fun with his hair… style it a bit so the half-long/half-clipped look seemed intentional, dye some of it lighter again (he missed being blonde). Yeah, it would be nice to enjoy everything about himself. Just like how it was nice to embrace being PINK.

Alright, time for this to happen… Donut puts his helmet on the corner edge of his bed, and hits play. As the hologram flickers on, he sees Church. The recording of him is standing there for a moment with his arms folded over his chest, like he’s upset… but as he starts speaking, Church lets out a little chuckle that sounds very far away from any negative emotion.

“Donut, you are like, my favorite guy over there on the Reds. And no joke, you were Alpha's favorite too. I bet you didn’t think he liked you at all, considering the whole… grenade incident with his girlfriend, but hey- everybody was extra stupid back then, huh? Nobody knew what was going on, Alpha didn't even know he and Tex were AIs, and that whole canyon sure wasn't making very good decisions. If Tex had gotten to know you, outside of all the BS we kept getting sucked into, I think she also would’ve thought you were OK. That's how it worked for me!

It… it really would have been great if things could have happened that way, if everybody could have gotten to take a break from all the life-and-death situations, and had a chance to just hang out and chill. Damn, that’s a fucked-up origin story, isn’t it? But that's us, a group of buddies who used to shoot at each other. We all could use a vacation, but you definitely deserve one. It must've been hard in the beginning, being the new guy… especially over THERE, with the three stooges and your irritated robot. Haha, I say that like all the Blues weren’t just as bad. Both bases were a mess! I guess that’s still true, even now… every single one of us is a disaster, but that’s why we kinda work. This group is such a train-wreck, we cancel out all the problems that happen to us. Maybe we even sort of fill-in the void for each other, too.

I've heard people say that war is hell, and I've also heard the saying that hell is other people, but you made things just a little less hellish. You’ve got a big heart Donut, and even on the worst days, you were somehow still up-beat, trying to stay positive… I guess you get over-looked a lot, but if you weren’t around, things wouldn’t be the same. Nobody else is quite like you. Don’t stop looking on the bright side. Because you… you kinda ARE the bright side, Donut. Don't forget how to bite-back sometimes, too!”

He wants to reach out and actually HUG Church right now… but he can’t, this is just a hologram of a hologram; even if Church was actually here, Church still wouldn’t be PHYSICALLY here. It was almost like Church has been with them this whole time, though… was there something about an AI deconstructing itself that makes it clairvoyant? Did Church KNOW what was going to happen to them? No, that wasn’t right… if Church could see the future, he would have probably made the same mistake as them (that is, trying to “fix” things that happened in the past or control what the future turned into, only to make all of reality crack. OOPS). Part of this was probably just Church knowing them so well, and part of it was probably him being able to calculate potential outcomes based on what he knew. Now THAT sounded like actual AI stuff.

Now that he thought about it, though... this was Epsilon, NOT Alpha. Sure, Epsilon contained Alpha's memories, and knew the other AI's thoughts to a certain degree, but Epsilon had his own life outside of Alpha's experiences. Somehow, this message almost felt like a conversation had taken place between the two AI that both went by the name "Church", as if Epsilon had somehow told Alpha what's been happening, and Alpha maybe explaining what it all meant for him to know that his friends were OK. It almost felt like Epsilon had seen what they've all gone through since he was deconstructed... but that was impossible. Both of the AI were gone; Alpha destroyed in the Emp, Epsilon erased when he divided up his energy to save them in that last battle. This message was made BEFORE Epsilon stopped existing, so he never spoke to Alpha, and neither AI were aware of anything anymore.

However, if Donut wanted to think about this with a little whimsy… maybe, somehow, the fact that Caboose had talked to Church (which was, in fact, the Alpha back in Blood Gulch) through that “time door” really did connect him to what they did later (in a more spiritual sense). Certain things were SUPPOSED to happen, it wasn’t just the past that influenced the future… time wound back around itself, just like a figure 8 tilted to the side; infinity. Epsilon knew things that Alpha knew, with various blanks being filled-in thanks to Caboose and finding various computer files. If it was possible for a friend to reach back through time, speak to somebody that had been gone for a while, it was also possible for somebody to reach FORWARD in time, to another part of themselves, and share something important. It was possible Church knew without LITERALLY knowing, leaning more toward “intuition” than specific awareness. He hadn’t had a premonition… Church simply had faith. That was some real “friendship destiny” stuff right there… and the thought of it makes Donut cry. He smiles, cheeks shining with tears, until the light from his helmet flickers out as the video ends, the room going dark.