#horizon's warehouse

[witchblade]

me and one (1) guy in singapore staring at each other

[headlinehorizon]

Captivating Tales from the Joy of Costco: A Treasure Hunt from A to Z

https://headlinehorizon.com/Business/Lifestyle/988

Discover fascinating insights into the inner workings of Costco and gain valuable tips for navigating their warehouses with ease. Get ready for the latest news on Costco's CEO transition!

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.

[idesofrevolution]

Horizons II: Numbers

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE

I looked at Omarion with my lupine grin, my sweet lookin' stolen face twisted and devilish. Couldn’t stop myself from snatching the blunt right out of his fingers mid puff and bringing it to my lips. Here’s the thing, bro; yeah, I was 6'3 and fit as fuck, not gonna lie. But Omarion was another beast entirely. The guy was almost 7'0 and lean like the good runner he was. You had to have someone get in and out of a place like a jackrabbit? Omarion's your boy. Those size 17 stompers he's got somehow are quick and quiet, especially when he kicks my ass on the basketball court. I let out a big fuckin' cloud in his face, winkin' as I hand the smokin' cigarello back to him.

"So, 'white boy'..." Omarion chuckled under his breath, still all kinds of fucked up about his Colombian parcero stretchin' out this gringo's bod. "You got a dude for me or what? Fuckin' hogs be runnin' me all over town." I looked down at my feet, racking this dude's memories for the name of that little sidepiece that he dumps his load into every Saturday night. I pushed down the growing rage I felt as Aidan's face continued to appear in my head- I didn't have a bit of guilt squeezin' into this fucker knowing what he did to that kid. I had even less guilt about what I was about to do to that tiny lil bitch as his name finally popped into my brain.

"Orlando. Orlando Avellaneda." Omarion raised his eyebrow at me as I looked at him with my big blue eyes. I kinda loved the way it fucked with him. "He's over off Frederick Street. He's this dude's little fuck toy. Bruh, it's wild. This guy is a full on fuckin' racist, but he's got a thing for the Cuban boys." Omarion took a big drag from the lit cigarello, puffin' out a couple of rings before smiling.

"Beggars can't be choosers, bro. But you ain't stickin' that monster inside me, even if I'm in 'your' side ho." I punched that tatted up tower in the arm, laughin' at his seriousness.

"You good, man. I promise I won't drill ya. Can't promise you won't wanna, though." I pawed at my bulge playfully as he grimaced in disgust.

"Boy if you don't stop playin'. Get in the fuckin' car." He stomped his giant AF1 on the blunt, struttin' over to the far corner of the warehouse. I followed behind, and behind the back pillar sat a fresh as fuck Jeep. Omarion hopped in the driver's seat, and the engine roared to life. Fuck I missed that sound. Nothin' like a roarin' engine, speedin' down the highway, dodgin' screamin' pigs and bitch ass Nissans to get away. I hopped in, wondering if I'd ever get to feel that rush again. I think back to Aidan, that innocent little face of his... was I really condemned to being some nine to fiver, rotting away in a cubicle. I couldn't ditch the dude, that would fuck him up beyond fixin'. But this beast can't be fuckin' caged man.

"Haul ass outta here, bro. Gotta get back before he gets suspicious." Omarion rolled his eyes, slammin' that cinder block foot onto the gas and plowing through the wood planks on the warehouse door, and out of the port. I looked down at Chase's phone, pullin' up his texts. I scrolled through bullshit after bullshit from his lame ass bank job- put a pin in that for later. Finally, I found the little shit. Orlando's name popped up midway down, the horny fuck puttin' a peach emoji right on his contact. I hit call and put my finger to my lips, Omarion snickering as I did.

"Uh... Chase? Did you forget your wallet again?" His voice was shrill and irritating, nothin' like Aidan. You could hear the brattiness with every word.

"I'm comin' over. Get that ass ready." He was quiet on the other side of the line, givin' me a mini heart attack thinkin' I'd fucked up and freaked him out. At least until I heard his breaths under the static.

"Mmmm playin' bad boy tonight are we? Your houseboy not giving you what you need?" I felt my teeth grind, who the fuck was this little cocksucker to talk about him that way... I took a deep breath, Omarion still raisin' his eyebrows at my huffin' and puffin'.

"Yeah, I'm feelin' nasty tonight. I'm gonna stretch that mouth as wide as it'll go." Little did he know.

"Door's unlocked, lemme give you what he can't. See you soon, baby." He hung up, and I tossed Chase's phone onto the center console of the car. Wouldn't be needing it for much longer, anyway. Omarion had his eyes plastered on the road, clearly biting his tongue. Honestly, I get it. I ate pussy like it was a fuckin' banquet, so did he. I didn't understand why I got so fuckin' enfadado at any slight against that blonde twink either. As much as I got under this gringo's skin, he'd gotten under mine too.

"So. You into this boy, ain't you?" I whipped my head to scowl at him.

"I'm not into him. I'm just playin' the game, bro." He chuckled under his breath, shakin' his head.

“Sure, bruh. Last I checked you were on track for a hundred bitches in one year. Eyes on the prize, brother!” He turned, laughin’ his stupid ass off, but not one laugh came outta me. That shit didn’t escape him, he noticed right away. That smile faded quick before we sat the rest of the ride in silence, he didn’t even put on Kendrick like he usually did. This shit was gettin' complicated. As we pulled up to his bougie ass townhouse, I heard the lil' ping comin' out of my phone, seeing a missed call and text from Aidan. Omarion opened the door, stepping out onto the street, turnin' to stare at me. "C'mon bro, we don't have time for this shit."

"Bruh, gimme a fuckin' second!" I swiped down, seeing the message from Aidan:

Aidan: Did you get stuck in traffic? I hope the ice cream doesn't melt...

I smiled, that boy ain't even mad. I don't get people worryin' about where I'm at, what I'm doin', who I'm with... I opened the camera, snapping a picture givin' him those 'Imma fuck the shit outta you' eyes.

Chase: yeah, babe- got stuck by the bridge. ice cream is fucked, gonna get you a nice n creamy one. i know u like that.

He replied with that naughty lil' devil emoji. Mmmm... I bet he'd be on his knees the minute I walked in that door. I felt my rod stirrin' in my jock, drippin' my juices out this gringo's swollen cock. This guy really got me goin'... but fuck. I wasn't a fuckin' cocksucker.

"Put that fuckin' phone down. We gotta fuckin' go, bro!" I nodded at Omarion, seein' just how pissed he was gettin' standing there. Tossin' that phone in the backseat, I got out the car and walked up to his door. Tappin' the doorbell, that thirsty lil fuck came runnin' down the stairs, whipping that door open quicker than I expected. The skinny lil twig stared up at me, clearly confused why Chase was as sexy as I made him overnight and why this 7'0 shirtless ebony giant is lookin' at him that way. The kid was a pipsqueak. Fresh outta college, ‘applying for dental school’ apparently. Typical dick cravin’ lil’ fa… gay boy.

"Whoa... Chase?" The lil bitch looked me up and down, I snickered as I saw his dicklet go full mast as I crossed my inked arms.

"The one and only, baby." I winked at him, watchin' his face flush red as an apple, before throwin' my arm around my bro. "This is Omarion. I think he's in need of a little.. stress relief." My man was gropin' at that jackhammer of his and that monster grew at just a single touch, snakin' down his sweatpants like the anaconda it is. I smirked, watchin' drool start to stream down Orlando's smooth chin.

"Yeeh... Yeah that sounds... good... But, when did you get tat..." I couldn't help but laugh as Omarion gripped him by the fuckin' cheeks, pushing him back into the living room. I shut the door behind us, smugly turning the deadbolt before slowly pullin' down my sweats. I turned around, grippin' my musky, sticky jock and my jaw nearly fuckin' dropped. Omarion had already dropped trou, his big ass Nikes and sweats chucked over the back end of the couch, and both Orlando and I completely fixated on that huge ass screwdriver stickin' straight outta his curly pubes. Fuck, maybe I hadn't really looked before when we double teamed the last few girls- too busy with my cock down her throat, but holy fuckin' shit bruh. Thick as a beercan, veins runnin' down that footlong like rivers, and his mushroom head pokin' the little twink right in the nose.

"Yo, you down for the spit?" Omarion snickered as he pried Orlando's thin lips open, hockin' a thick wad of spit into his mouth. Man, when I tell you I was in the fuckin' position in three seconds flat-the twink's feet over my shoulders, his grey shorts pulled to the side with that puckery hole just beggin' for my cock. Omarion threw up his fist, our tatted knucks colliding like the green light we both knew it was. "Alright lil' bitch, open wide." Orlando, the obedient little sub, could barely open that mouth any bigger than he already did before my bro had thrust that footer straight down his throat, blowin' out a hoot of pleasure as his head slowly fell back. My mind flashed back to Aidan back at the apartment, probably checkin' his phone to see if I was on my way back...

"Bro..." Man... I couldn't get him out of my head. I had a tight hole pressed against my steamy bulge and all I could think about was... "BRO!" I shook my head, lookin' up at my bro straight up face fuckin' Orando's gaggin' face. "Wake the fuck up, bruh. Hurry it up and stick it in already!" It's a means to an end, I tell myself. I pull down my jock, my cock already standin' alert, drippin' with my pre and some of last night's load still caught under the hood. I felt my old self for a sec- my brows gettin' low, my teeth barin', that animal snarl... Well, his hole will be a nice lil' cleaner for me. I smirked, pressin' that musky head against his beggin' pucker, and with a deep fuckin' groan, slowly let my slimy rod slip into his guts. "That's my fuckin' boy. Come on!" Omarion picked up his pace, leanin' over the fucker and holdin' onto the couch beneath him, grinnin' from ear to ear. Man, when I say I love tag teamin' with my boy, I FUCKIN' LOVE IT. The guy just turns up the heat, bruh, and that shit just gets me goin'.

I let my long ass tongue flop out my mouth, smilin' and pantin' as I start plowin' that twink ass. Orlando was moanin' and chirpin' like the thirsty lil slut he is, gettin' pegged from both sides by two professional fuckers. Sweat drippin' down my forehead, Omarion and I just look at eachother, smirkin' at the sounds of his sweaty balls slappin' against the twink's face, and my groin against his bony lil' ass.

"Fuckin' take this dick, lil' pussy. Yeah suck it." Omarion slapped Orlando's cheek, the little pervert whining as he's spitroasted. As the lil' fucker's eyes closed in lust, my boy looked me dead in the eye, and I knew exactly what it meant. Omarion slowly stepped back, his dick slowly pulling out of the twink's throat. I lean in over his panting face, my scowl growin' crazed as I rammed his ass.

"Woohoo, bro. You really shoulda got your own breeder, pendejo. This one's taken." His eyes squinted in confusion as I pulled out of his lil' pucker, and Omarion made his move, stickin' that massive mitt into his open mouth, pullin' his lips wider and wider- his head stretchin' and distorting as he tugged, before bringin' his size 17 dog up and shovin' it down Orlando's pre-stretched throat. That wet squelch rang out as his neck bulged around the shape of that smelly fuckin' boat slidin' down into his chest.

Lemme just break this down for you. Slippin' into someone, that's one thing. Feels fuckin' great, gets you off, the sounds and smells and the texture... yeah it's hot. But watchin' your bro squeezin' into some bitchass... that's a whole different fuckin' level, bruh. Seein' him plop his ass on the back of the couch, slippin' his other foot down the twink's gurglin' throat, lettin' himself just slide down into Orlando's bod lubed with his own sweat. I couldn't help myself, bro. I grabbed my musky cock, slowly pumpin' it as I watched his calves slurp down into the lil' fucker. This is karma, bitch. I bet he loved the feelin' of his thick ass thighs stretchin' his head like a rubber mask, or the smell of his round sweaty ass as he sits down right on top of his nose. Wanna know how I know? Those whimpers turned into moans real fuckin' quick. He turned and looked at me jackin' away, goonin' at the insane sight.

"Bruh, c'mon! I get your bod is gettin' you horny but help me in and we can get the fuck outta here!" Fuck, he was right. Bein' inside Chase had my brain doin' a buncha fuck shit, as much as I'd changed him- I think he was changin' me too... I blinked, runnin over to the squirming pipsqueak and holding him down, watchin' as Omarion kept sinkin' himself deeper and deeper inside of him. His toes bulged out beneath the pale skin, slidin' down his smooth legs, his skinny calves, and with a buncha grunts n' squeezin' from Omarion, his gigantic feet suctioned into Orlando's immediately bloating them into my boy's veiny, funky size 17s.

Omarion goes to a whole 'nother level when he's gettin' into you. Those eyes got wild, grinnin' like the Joker as he pinched the twink's waist, and stretched the legs tight over his own. Slowly, Orlando's legs swelled and suctioned over my boy's his tight calves and basketball-trained quads bulging out of this kid's skin. His curly brown hairs sprouting out of the pale legs, before quickly tanning with his mocha body inside.

"Lemme just... Unf!" He shoved his hands into the gapin' maw, slinkin' down to his semi hard dick, deflated after his fake lust had faded away. I watched as his snake slid into Orlando's, stretchin' it wide before those kiwi balls of his slurped into his new droopy sac. The man was gigglin' like a fuckin' lunatico, his ass now inflating the bony rear into two watermelons below his skinny waist. His arms found their way into the twink's shoulders; like slippin' on a pair of overalls, all he needed to do was shrug, and the rubbery skin slurped over his torso and chest. A couple of his tatts slowly rose to the surface: barbed wire from his time in the pen, and two snakes circlin' around eachother- a tribute to our partnership for the past decade. His arms slid down into their new gloved home, the skin creaking and groaning as the big ol' mitts swelled into their new fingers n' palms.

"Aight bro, thanks for the ride!" We bumped our knuckles, as he took Orlando's orgasmic face, pulling it over the back of his head and letting it snap right over his own. Squeaks, creaks, and squelches echoed in the room as he tugged on the mask atop his head: Orlando's lips growin' thick, his nose flattenin', the sharp stubble poppin' out his sharp jaw... Fuck... Why was I thinkin' that way...

My bro opened his new eyes, the twink's pretty boy face now twisted into a gruff ass snarl. Reachin' over to his sweatpants, he pulled out the blunt he'd rolled in the car, stickin' it between his lips and lighting it. Seein' a lil' cockslut turn into a fuckin' giant ass man, blowin' his thick clouds was such a fuckin' trip.

"Orlando, huh? Bruh, this guy was a fuckin' tightass motherfucker." Hearin' that high pitched voice gravelly n' low... that shit got my stomach in knots. "This shit never gets old, man. Trippy as fuck every time." He took another puff before handin' that good shit over to me, snickering at my hard on I'd tried to slip back into my jock. As I took a hit, that motherfucker started leanin' over and pokin' it! "Yeah, man. I see what you mean when ya slip into a cocksucker. Certain things just look... different through these eyes."

I couldn't say for sure man, but I think I felt my cheeks get red from his touch. Even through this twunk's face I could see Omarion's fuckin' smirk on his lips, feel that fucker's grip in his hands, smell that musk flowin' from out his skin. It was Omarion through and through, and fuck was it crazy to see those lil things comin' from Orlando's body. I smacked that chucklin' dick's hand off my rod, playin' it off as best I could.

"Yeah, you fuckin' wish this dick was up your thirsty ass." He huffed under his breath, jumpin' off the bed and over to the bag he'd dropped by the door to get into a more fittin' look.

"Shit, bruh. He's got some spunk in these balls. Just gimme some pussy and... UNH... UNH... UNH..." He hip thrust forward, grinnin' as he slipped on his tank. I couldn't watch him too long, 'cuz as much as I wanted to deny it, I wanted to see him fuckin' some tight hole in this bod. He looked good.

"Heh, you gonna find some good cumdump in that pretty boy." I walked over, handin' him the joint before slippin' on my sweatpants. I felt him lookin' at me, didn't have to even turn around.

"So... what's the plan, bro? Back to 'your' place, regroup, and get movin'?" I stopped for a second, realizing that while I shoulda been thinkin about the escape plan, I wasn't. Every moment that day my head shoulda been in the game, like it was every other time I hid in some perra. But it wasn't. The whole time, all I was thinkin' was how long it'd take to get back to Aidan.

"Uh, yeah. We should get goin'." I turned around, lookin' at him slippin those big funky dogs into his AF1's, tossin' the empty bag over his shoulder.

“Well, let’s dip.” Omarion strut out the door as if he owned the place. Well, I guess he did, heh. He’s always been a pro at this shit. Bro is a fuckin’ chameleon. When he’s in you, nobody would do so much as a double take. He’s got your memories on lock. He’s got your interests on lock. He’s got your voice, your walk, your smile… By the time he hops out, he’s got ‘em thinkin’ you just had a phase or some shit like that.

See, when we’re inside you, you’re seein’ everything we’re seein’, feelin’ how we feel, thinkin’ how we think… Sometimes when we ditch your skin, you wake up a bit different than you used to be. I mean, we’re doin’ you a favor. You get a fuckin’ sick ass sex god wearin’ and stretchin’ your body out, you’re gonna walk away with a bit of our swagger in you, bruh. Chase was a slow learner with that, bitchin’ and moanin’ 24/7, but nothin’ more than a whisper way back there pretendin’ like he hates my big ass schlong swingin’ between his legs. But Omarion, he has a fuckin’ queue of bros beggin’ him to squeeze back in ‘em. He does somethin’ different, bro. I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t then, on that drive that night after stoppin’ at some shitty cornerstore to swipe some ice cream for Aidan, I just sorta stared at him. Didn’t say much, just vibed to some Curren$y as he weaved through fuckin’ slow ass cars; but I had to ask.

“So how the fuck 're you so good at this shit, man?” He turned to me, raisin’ his eyebrow. “Like you get in him like it’s nothin’, and it’s like he’s always been this way. No one bats a fuckin’ eye.” Omarion rolled his eyes, turnin’ back to the road.

“You get way too into it, bruh.” His voice was low and cold.

“The fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. But in the back of my head, I needed to hear him say it.

“When I go into hidin’, I’m not out there keepin’ up their relationships. I’m not callin’ their moms. I don’t give a fuck about goin’ into work. I get in, get the fuck outta town, and get out. No strings, no bullshit.” His eyes were fixed on the road, I knew he’d been meanin’ to say this for a while. “But you, bro? You out there makin’ sure the rent is paid. You out there makin’ excuses for where they’re goin’. You tellin’ their professors you goin’ to a funeral so you gotta take some time off of class. You get involved, bruh. You always do.” He finally looked at me, not mad or anything, but he was serious. “This time I got a feelin’ you in too deep.”

“I’m am not.” I did my best to be all, ‘I don’t give a fuck’ about the clock. But Omarion knows me too damn well. He saw right through that shit.

“We stopped for ice cream for your butt buddy, bro.” We sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time. Felt like fuckin’ ages, but he finally summed it up. “You gotta ditch this dude. We stayin’ the night and you either ditch the boyfriend or ditch the bod. Get a new dude and leave this shit in the dust. We got a job to do. Don’t forget that.”

Took forty minutes to get back to the apartment. Bruh, I was sweatin' bullets. I didn't know how Omarion would vibe with Aidan, what kind of excuse I was gonna have to come up with. I looked down at the plastic bag and the half melted chocolate ice cream inside. No, the bodega didn't have fuckin' pistachio. Yes, I asked. Omarion stood next to me in the elevator, flexin' and snappin' pics to send the boss.

"Aight, we're friends. We saw eachother at the corner store. You're comin' back to smoke and chill. Got it?" Omarion huffed, slippin' his bod's phone back into his sweats.

"Yeah, we good. But tomorrow mornin', we dippin' right?" I couldn't even look at him. I just nodded. "Bruh, we're gettin' the fuck outta here, ditchin' these bitches and gettin' back to the boss. That's the fuckin' plan. Don't get all horny for this dude, you ain't stayin."

"I'm not fuckin' horny for him, bro!" The elevator doors opened, and we walked up to the door. Just as I was fuckin' with the keys, I heard the door unlock and watched as the door swung open. He stood on the other side, lookin' irritated as fuck. Aidan stood there with his arms crossed, flingin' knives out his eyes.

“Just headed to get ice cream, huh?” I stuttered, couldn’t get a single word out. He looked so disappointed, man. “Two nights, Chase? Two nights you come home hours late, doing who knows what kind of shit all night!” He was pissed, and let me tell you somethin’. No one fuckin’ talks to me like that. You raise your voice, I raise my fuckin’ fist. Talk to me like I’m some bitch and you’ll be hangin’ by your balls from the ceiling. So, why couldn’t I say anything? I stood there like a fuckin’ tool, stutterin’ and all ‘uhhh… ummm… you know…’ If he were any other bro comin’ at me like that I’d have laid his ass out on the tile floor. But not a fuckin’ word would leave my lips. I just couldn’t, man. Thank fuckin’ Christ for Omarion, savin’ the day with a quick one.

“Hey, I’m Orlando. I’m friends with Chase.” He stuck his hand out, smiling at Aidan with that charmer grin of his. “I saw this dumbass beggin’ the guy at the counter for some pistachio ice cream and was like 'yo, it’s my boy!” Aidan looked at him all skeptical, just starin’ at his hand. Turnin’ to me, all I did was nod like a fuckin’ dumbass, handing him the bag of ice cream. I was gettin’ nervous, but after a second or two he cracked a smile and shook his hand. I let out a sigh of relief. As Omarion did what he did best, playin’ it on the down low and makin’ him feel all comfortable.

“Nice to meet you, Orlando. Sorry about the blow up. But your ‘bro’ over there knows what I’m talkin’ about, right?” I could tell he was still annoyed, but Omarion’s magic tongue had taken his tone down. He waved us in, lettin’ Omarion through but holdin’ his arm in front of me before I could even walk through the door. He got in close, and I felt his arms slowly slide around my waist. I saw under that sweet lil’ smile a whole lotta sadness. I really fuckin’ hurt the guy. His lips quickly planted on mine, my eyes closed and all I wanted to do was to at least make the guy feel like this piece of shit I was piloting would do the right thing for once. When our lips parted, he leaned into my ear and whispered. “Please, Chase. Don’t do it again.”

He turned around, walkin’ to the kitchen to get some bowls. I shut the door behind us, and couldn’t avoid Omarion’s fuckin’ death stare. All of that just proved his point. I was in deep, too fuckin’ deep. But seein’ him again in that moment, the big blue eyes and that sweet smile… I was havin’ second thoughts about the plan.

---

Alright, folks! This is going to be the last entry of Horizons posted to Tumblr, the rest of this piece is gonna be exclusively on Blogspot and GSS. I know that may disappoint some of y'all, but here's why. Tumblr isn't the greatest place for longform multichapter stories, and Horizons is turning into something a lot bigger than just two or three posts on here. Each of these chapters are turning into 5k+ words and it's just not ideal for this platform. GSS allows for multiple chapters under a uniform series, which helps tremendously with continuity. I invite y'all to come check out Horizons on GSS, and I'll be sure to link it whenever a new chapter is added. As of right now, I have solid plot framework for 4 chapters of it, with it being very open to having several more afterward. I'll continue to have one-offs on Tumblr, so don't think I'm ditchin' y'all. I'm still here and I ain't going nowhere. :)

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens reacting to their partner being missing.

Some people kidnapped the wrong person at the wrong time, what would the Cullens do in that situation? How would they take care of her after finding her?

I love your work, I can read everything you've done over and over again, have a nice day!

The Cullens when you’ve been kidnapped

Thank you so much for the kind words! It always makes me so happy when you guys say that you like my works so much!

Also I know I just opened requests… but I am closing them again 🥲 sorry guys. I have over 20 requests in my inbox rn and I don’t want them to pile up too much! Please be patient with me

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

You told him that you were going to your friend’s house

Initially, he wanted to walk you there, but you refused

It was the middle of the day and you can take care of yourself

So off you went

You were supposed to text him when you got there, but a text never came

He was getting antsy

It was only a minute or two after you should have gotten there, but he was ready to bolt out the door

His concerns were solidified when Alice rushed into the room and he saw the vision of you getting tackled and pushed into a van in her head

He was on his way in a second

He followed your faint scent until it stopped in front of a warehouse

He didn’t bother to stop and listen through the doors, he just barged in

You were tied up on the floor, unconscious

Two men were nearby in the middle of an argument

You weren’t the person they were supposed to get, but rather someone who looked a lot like you

Either way, they were screwed

Edward wasted no time in killing both of them

He scooped you up and ran all the way to Carlisle’s clinic

He insisted that you stay the night to make sure you were okay

He is not leaving your side after that

You’re not even gonna be allowed to walk the five feet to the bathroom without him

Sorry not sorry

If he was alive, he would have almost had a heart attack, and he’s not about to have that happen again

Alice:

She was so preoccupied with visions at the moment

There was a tracker vampire who seemed to have it out for Jasper, so her mind was constantly tracking him

You felt bad even bothering her to tell her you were going to the mall

She just gave you an absent nod as you left

She was watching the vampire in her mind, watching as he made different choices, chose different paths

She was so distracted she completely disregarded the vision of you

She only noticed your absence when the sun began to sink behind the horizon and you were still nowhere to be found

It took her a lot of thinking to even remember where you had gone

Instantly, she took out her phone and tried to call you, nothing

A text, nothing

Your location had been turned off too

Then she caught another vision

This time of a group of men holding a gun to your head and pulling the trigger

Instantly, she was up

She replayed the scene over and over in her mind, trying to track down where exactly you were before it was too late

She flew into the basement of the house just in time, the men were loading the gun as she burst in

Swiftly, she knocked everyone out, and killed the man with the gun

You were in hysterics, so scared of what almost happened but also relieved to see your girlfriend

She just held you for the rest of the night, apologizing over and over about leaving you for so long, about not noticing that you’d been gone

From that point on, she made sure to ALWAYS tune in whenever a vision had you in it

Jasper:

You wanted to go out to the club

But Jasper’s not really into that scene

He’s gone with you a couple of times, but it’s never his first choice

So when you ask him if he wants to go, he declines

He accompanied you two days ago, that’s his club tolerance for the week

So you get all dressed up, give him a kiss goodbye, and you’re out the door

He isn’t too concerned, you’re going with your friends after all

He does start to worry, though, when 2 am rolls around and you’re still not home

Usually, you’re home around 1, but sometimes you spend the night at your friends house

He calls you, nothing. He texts you, nothing. So he calls one of your friends

She answers completely wasted and says she hasn’t seen you in a little bit

You went to the bathroom a couple of hours ago and she just assumed you went home or something

He always knew that friend was an idiot

He’s out the door in a flash, driving down to the club you were supposed to be at

He sees your car out in the front lot, and right next to it, a suspicious looking white van

Inside, he can hear your muffled screams

He rips open the door and sees a man holding a knife to your throat, asking you all manners of questions that you have no clue how to answer

Jasper’s always been very cautious about how he acts around you, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster

But in this instance, he gives in to the beast

He’s shaking by the time the man is dead, and he frees your from your restraints

He needs the rest of the night to wind down and just hold you

He apologizes over and over for scaring you, for leaving you alone, that that even happened in the first place

Does not leave your side ever again

Rosalie:

You and Rosalie were out on the town

You wanted to go see all of the new shops that had moved downtown, and she couldn’t say no even if she tried

So off you went, coffee in hand and Carlisle’s credit card in Rosalie’s pocket

You were in a boutique, looking through all of the pretty dresses, when you found a beautiful dark blue velvet dress that you thought Rosalie would look perfect in

So you found her size on the rack and shoved her into a fitting room

Only while she was in there, a group of three guys came up behind you and grabbed you, pulling you outside

They didn’t get very far though before Rosalie stopped them

She ran out of the dressing room, dress still on

She set off the sensors as she ran into the street

She roundhouse kicked one of the guys, knocking out three of his teeth in the progress

The other guys she simply punched and they were down, crying for their mommies

Luckily, they didn’t have the chance to hurt you

So even though you were shaken up, you were okay

As she’s standing there holding you, waiting for the police to arrive, you have the nerve to laugh

“What the hell are you laughing about? You almost died!”

“You look really pretty in that dress, Rose”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you

Emmett:

You were at one of your friend’s apartments in the city center

He was moving in and asked if you would come help

So obviously you said yes and obviously you brought your mountain-sized boyfriend who could lift the whole moving van

The three of you were working hard, grabbing stuff from the van and carrying it up the stairs

You had sat down on the ledge of the sidewalk for a second, catching your breath and drinking some water when a guy came up to you out of nowhere and tried to grab you

Emmett heard you and dropped everything instantly

But by the time he got down the stairs, you were gone

He could hear your muffled scream getting fainter as the man dragged you farther away

He bolted as fast as he could in the direction of your voice

When he caught up, he didn’t even bother asking questions

Punch first, questions later

Only he killed the guy

Not that he’s upset that he did, he’s just sort of frustrated that he’ll never get to know why that asshole thought it would be a good idea to try to take his partner

Either way he’s not letting you out of his sight

The only place he relaxes is when you’re at home and safe

Constantly on guard

Poor guy just needs to relax

Esme:

You had been begging her for a week straight to come with you to this concert

But it was a slipknot concert, and definitely not her speed

She entertained you for a little bit and listened to some of their music to see if she would want to go with you, but yeah that wasn’t happening

So eventually you gave up and decided to ask one of your friends to go

She promised she would make it up to you when you got home, only you never showed up

It was getting late, nearing 3 am, and you were still nowhere to be seen

She tried calling, texting, anything, but you weren’t there

She was getting really worried, when suddenly she got a call from your friend

Your friend was in hysterics, crying and screaming, it was hard to understand them

But from what she gathered, your friend’s ex boyfriend had showed up and drugged you, dragging you away from your car

And from what else she gathered, he wasn’t intending on taking you, but rather your friend

She immediately got in her car and sped down to the concert center

When she got there, there were at least 4 cop cars

Your friend was standing next to one, talking to an officer when Esme showed up

The officer pointed her in the direction of a different cruiser, and you were inside, blissfully asleep

She could have started crying she was so relieved

She got the story from one of the officers, apparently the ex realized he had the wrong person and turned around to try to get your friend, only to see that the police were already there

Stupid idiot

You didn’t remember a thing when you woke up, which was probably for the best

Oh well, at least now Esme will go with you to every concert

Carlisle:

He has a lot of enemies

Even though he has tried so hard over his expansive lifetime to be cordial to everyone, some people just can’t be reasoned with

He knows this, but he never thought anyone would go after you

He was at the clinic when he got a call from Alice, saying that she saw a man with red eyes taking you in your sleep and killing you

She didn’t recognize him, but after giving his description, Carlisle knew exactly who it was

He figured he had a couple of hours to get to you and prepare for the man’s arrival

But he didn’t

He took a lunch break at work and drove to your house, intending to warn you of what was to come later that night

Only you weren’t there

Your bedroom window was broken and your sheets were tossed all over the bed

Not to mention the stench of vampire that permeated the room

He completely forgot about your midday naps

He was instantly in searching mode

He got Alice and Edward to help track you down, both of their skills valuable for this

He found you in an old factory, a bite on your ankle that was slowly filling you with venom

While Edward and Alice killed the man, he sucked the venom from your wound, the whole time praying that you would be okay

You were knocked out cold for a week after that

He kept you at his home clinic, making sure to keep an eye on you at all hours of the day

He feels so guilty

But the moment you wake up and look so happy to see him, he feels better

Vampire! Bella:

She’s had her fair share of danger

I mean, when she was human she was a magnet for it

But in her time of knowing you, you’ve never posed much of a threat to yourself

So she’s never been too worried about you

You had asked her earlier if she wanted to go to the movies with you, and she had declined

She needed to go hunting, and it was going to be a perfect night for it

So you both went your separate ways

She left her phone at home, opting to keep it safe while she throws herself around the woods

When she gets home, it’s late, and you’re nowhere to be seen

She opens her phone to call you, only to find you already left her a voicemail

Not a good sign

She listens to it, and she can hear you whispering, your voice quivering with fear

You’re in the trunk of a car, and you have no idea where you’re going. You don’t know the guys who took you, and you’re scared

That’s all she needs to hear

It doesn’t take her long to track you down, your scent very prominent to her

On the other side of the door to the house you’re in, she can hear two guys arguing about what to do with you

Apparently you saw something you shouldn’t have seen

Oh well, now they’re going to see the last thing they’ll ever see

She feels a little guilty about killing the guys, but on the other hand she doesn’t

They had the gall to kidnap her partner, so they can deal with the consequences of that

You are now not allowed to leave the house without her

She follows you everywhere

And she’s always super close

Yes, she even follows you to the bathroom

No one will ever touch you again

[rcmclachlan]

civil twilight (buck/tommy)

For @dadvans, who is a dirty enabler whenever I start having ideas and thoughts. Del, here are your damn bucktommy wedding vows, are you happy now?? 🩷

+

With a smile, Bobby looks out at the congregation—one hundred and fifty people squeezed onto the Ceremony Deck of the 1909, including what appears to be every first responder Buck has ever met—and announces, “I’m happy to say we’ve come to the part of the ceremony that Buck and Tommy have been looking forward to the most. They’ve prepared a little something for each other to be shared for the very first time today. What they say now will sanctify this moment now and forever.”

Excitement and anticipation chase each other under Buck’s skin like dogs, and he can’t help but bounce a little on his toes, which are pinched like hell in the shoes Maddie made him buy. 

It took him almost a month to comb through the rolodex of his life—taking out cards from between color-coded dividers organized by year and studying each one to remind himself of exactly how he got to this point—to find the right words. He thought about them every second of every day. He filled his notes app to the point they made him pay for extra storage. He fought a five-alarm warehouse fire alongside almost twenty other companies and spent the entire time rearranging sentences in his head. 

There were nights he lay curled against Tommy’s back and practiced for hours against the heat of his skin—soundlessly, of course, although with the way Tommy snores after a double shift it’s not like he would’ve been heard—until he was satisfied. 

But the thought of Tommy doing the same makes Buck a little crazy. Did Tommy scribble half-baked thoughts on the back of a Pizzeria Sei receipt, or did he watch Love, Actually for the two hundredth time and take notes while Colin Firth gave a speech to a very confused town, or did he crowdsource ideas from the yahoos over at Harbor? Knowing Tommy, he just started spitballing at the horizon from a thousand feet above the city and got it on the first try.

Buck’s been vibrating in place for months thinking about this exact moment, and now that it’s finally here he’s going to explode all over all their guests before he even gets to say “I do.”

“Buck? Tommy?” Bobby’s voice is warm, like he knows exactly how much oxygen is feeding the fire in Evan’s belly. “Take each other’s hands and hold on tight.”

Before Bobby’s even finished talking, Tommy’s already stepping forward and reaching for Buck, which is good because Buck’s already reaching for him, too. Their hands come together with the ease of automatic doors in a department store, sliding to meet like they were made for nothing else. Their fingers tangle and lock, and Buck is thrilled to find neither of their palms are sweaty. Tommy’s smiling so hard his nose looks like it’s about to scrunch its way into his hairline, and Buck’s moved so close he’s practically stepping on Tommy’s feet. They meet in a very narrow middle. 

“Buck."

He closes his eyes and presses his lips together to keep the fireworks in his belly from erupting out of his mouth and incinerating the entire canopy. From where he's standing behind Buck, Eddie taps him twice on the shoulder with his fist as if to say, we were all forced to listen to you talk about this for half a year; you've got this, but also don't screw it up.

“You’re up first.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, Buck reaches deep down into the little gilded space where he’s been keeping the words safe all this time. He holds them for a moment, traces the familiar edges of them, and hopes every person on the deck right now is going to be able to hear him. He wants them to know.

Tommy squeezes his hand gently, and Buck looks at him, at the shape of his smile that Buck could draw with his eyes closed. It's suddenly so easy to open his mouth.

"My first real memory is of going with Maddie to the park down the street from our house so we could watch the sunset. I sat on a swing and stared at the sky until it got dark, and even then I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maddie said it looked like I was searching for something."

Like every other time Buck's brought up some random story from when he was a dumbass kid, Tommy's lips roll inward. The first time it happened, he thought Tommy was trying not to laugh at him and he wanted to crawl under a rock like a bug to escape the threat of being completely crushed. But then Tommy admitted to being so charmed by Buck's story that he had to hide the sheer goofiness of his smile so Buck didn't think he was a total psycho. It's true. When Tommy lets that particular brand of smile out, he looks like a serial killer, so whenever Buck sees the inward lip roll, he knows he's one spate of cute aggression away from being turned into a human coat rack. It's awesome.

"It wasn't until I started writing this and looked back on my life that I realized how often I did it. No matter where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing, I'd end the day with my eyes on the sky. It sort of felt like something was going to come swooping out of the clouds just for me and I didn't want to miss it when it did. I didn't really think about it until after the first time I met you, because I didn't have a chance to look at the sky that night—you took me straight there instead. I haven't come back down since."

The tail end of the sentence grows soft and tight, and his eyes grow wet and hot. Which isn't a surprise. He hasn't made it through a single practice run of this part without his taps going on. He clears his throat and squeezes Tommy's hands tightly, reassured by the strength of them, in the firmness of the grip. 

Mortified and elated, he blinks so the tears fall. Tommy sucks in a breath, then distangles his left hand from Evan's right so he can reach up to thumb them away.

"Turns out Maddie was right," he says, smiling wide and pressing into the touch. "I didn't know it, but all that time I was searching for you."

Tommy presses his lips together, but it isn't to hide a smile—it's to hide the way his mouth is trembling and he's doing a shit job of it. Buck chokes a little on a wet laugh. His chest feels sweetly sore, like a pressing on a bruise.

"That was beautiful," Bobby says. He's looking at Buck in the way that always makes him wonder at just how incredible his life would've been if he'd been Buck's dad from the get go. Which is probably a mean thing to do right now, considering his actual father is sitting in the second row, but if Bobby weren't officiating the ceremony he'd be sitting in the first, and that really says everything. 

Beaming, Bobby turns to Tommy and inclines his head. "Your turn, Tommy."

Anticipation sings in Buck's chest, and when Tommy meets his gaze, his eyes bright and clear like an autumn sky over the San Bernardino mountains, it lights the fuse on a whole new batch of fireworks under his skin. He inhales shakily and gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

Tommy's expression evens out, but sweetness still lurks at the corner of his mouth.

"Evan."

Buck's eyes flutter a little. It's amazing to think he used to hate the sound of that name. When Tommy says it, it feels like sunlight.

"I spent most of my life afraid," Tommy begins. His voice is steady. "I grew up thinking I was made wrong, and I cut off pieces of myself to try and fit in where I thought I was supposed to belong. I tried finding peace in the sky, but all that emptiness did was remind me of how alone I was."

Heart pounding, Buck squeezes Tommy's hands so tightly he thinks they might meld together. 

"You know, I owe the 118 a lot. They helped me become a better teammate, a better friend… a better person. But there's no way I can ever repay them for how they changed me by bringing you into my life."

After all the time he spent thinking about Tommy simply writing his vows, it somehow never registered that he would actually have to say them out loud. In front of all their family and friends. That he'd be cracking open his chest and showing what's inside to the whole world as proof of his devotion. That he'd willingly do it for Buck simply because he loves him and wants to love him for the rest of their lives.

"Evan, from the moment I met you, you've shown me what it is to be brave. You've taught me how there's courage in loving with your whole heart and living your entire truth."

There is no way in hell he's going to be able to stand here and listen to this without gnawing on the deck railing or launching himself at Tommy to put his mouth on his bare skin. How do people do this without being charged with a misdemeanor?

"You found the pieces of me I thought were gone forever and put them back together differently. Better. You helped me make someone who isn't afraid of anything. I know we tease you about going The Full Buck, but because of you, because I know you're next to me ready to face anything that comes—" His voice breaks. "—I'm brave enough to go The Full Tommy."

Buck can barely see him through the tears that won't stop welling and falling, and if they were anywhere else, he'd wrap himself around Tommy like a snake and squeeze him until the storm passed, but because he's bound by dumb things like decorum and obscenity laws, Buck can only keep hold of his hands and try to transfer every ounce of love and comfort in his body to Tommy's by way of their tangled fingers. 

Then, suddenly, a shit-eating grin splits the gentle and earnest expression on Tommy's face, and he feels a bit like a bird right before it's sucked into a jet engine. Warning bells go off in the back of Buck's mind. 

"Evan," Tommy says, with the gravity of someone about to drop an atomic bomb, "you are the best ally I could've ever asked for."

The ugly, snotty laugh that punches its way out of Buck would earn him the respect of even the grubbiest of Jee-Yun's daycare friends, and he finally throws decorum out the window so he can step forward and bury his face in Tommy's shoulder. Between his tears and the spit he's horking from laughter, the suit fabric is definitely ruined.

"I love you so much," he wheezes. "I'd maim a thousand best friends for you."

He can't see Eddie's face, but he knows exactly what it's doing and it only makes him laugh harder. Tommy presses one of his high, incredulous laughs into Buck's hair, followed by a firm kiss to the crown of his head. 

"What do you say?" Tommy pulls back a little, but he looks so proud of himself. He looks proud. "Should we finish getting married or what?"

Buck sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth teasingly. "Or what?" 

"Or I go home and order pizza," Chim pipes up from the front row to a smattering of laughter. On his left, Hen drops her face into her hands, but her shoulders are shaking. On his right, Maddie smacks him on the arm like she's mortified, but she's grinning too hard to really sell it. It looks like she's crying just as hard as Buck is. 

"All right, all right," Bobby says, ever the voice of calm and reason, but he's very clearly fighting laughter, too. "Why don't we finish this up?"

"You ever get tired of herding cats, Cap?" Eddie asks, a grin in his voice. 

"Never," Bobby says. He lifts his brows pointedly at Buck. "Are you ready?"

Buck turns back to Tommy, and in the curve of his smile he sees the same glowing possibility that he's seen in ten thousand different sunsets, and his entire body clenches with the exhilarating and terrifying feeling of something's coming for me and I can't miss it. 

Heart pounding, he grins and holds his hands out again. They're immediately enfolded into Tommy's, like there was never a question about where they should go. 

He glances up through the canopy to glimpse the pockmarks of blue between the trees, but there's nothing coming for him. When he looks back down and meets Tommy's gaze, that hungry anticipation settles into warm fullness. He can call off the search; it's finally here. 

Buck smiles wide enough to encompass the sky. "I've been ready, Cap. Let's do this."

Now on AO3

[my-writings-and-musings]

Clawing my way out of depression with some incredibly silly Bumblebee x Reader, in which our beloved Scout is shrunk down to the size of a kitten via science magic and reader must keep him warm in their coat. Reader is gender neutral beyond having titties for Bee to huddle against. Read and join me as I defeat SAD with the power of silliness.

Shrunken Earthspark Bumblebee x GN!Reader

Rated PG for silliness, fluff and booby mention

Hunkering down at the abandoned warehouse you'd been told to wait in, you kept your eyes and ears on the horizon, hoping that the hum of familiar engines would cut through the howling wind and whirling snow before long. Though the air was frigid enough to freeze your breath, the bitter cold accounted for only a small portion of your desire to swiftly reunite with the team, as you had much bigger problems that you needed help with. Well, perhaps "bigger" wasn't the right word for it...

Standing atop the opposite end of the windowsill for his own vigil, Bumblebee looked remarkably alert and well composed for someone a fraction of their natural height. You supposed that his brush with Mandroid could have gone much worse; at least the device the scientist had escaped with had only shrunk the Scout, and done no further harm. It was a double miracle that you'd managed to find his tiny form amidst the knee deep snow of the battlefield. Rubbing your gloved hands together and trying not to stare, you told yourself that Wheeljack would be able to fix everything in no time, and that a few broken laws of physics would return your beloved bot to his usual towering height. Seeing him this tiny was just too strange, and not to mention unspeakably adorable.

A kitten-sized sneeze drew your eyes away from the snowy landscape out the window, and you looked over to find the Scout hugging himself through a dramatic shiver. "Bee? You okay?" you asked quickly, unable to help feeling far more protective than usual.

"F-f-fine!" he replied just as quickly, spinning around to face you. Digits trembling, he forced a shaky smile as he attempted to pass off crossing his arms as a casual gesture, though the tiny crystals of ice you noticed spreading across his frame gave him up just as readily. The poor mech sounded like he was seconds away from turning into a tiny Autobot popsicle as he shivered through every syllable. "Just a little... ch-chilly... B-but I'm f-fine!"

A number of realizations pinged through your mind at once; Bee must have lost a considerable amount of heat while buried in the snow, he was now far too small to regain said warmth, and he had no real idea how to stop himself from freezing now that he didn't have mass to protect himself. His pride had undoubtedly kept him from voicing the problem as it worsened, leaving you with a very tiny and very frozen Scout to thaw. "You're obviously freezing! Why didn't you tell me?"

"N-never been a p-problem before..." he replied as he gave in and started to shiver. Your heart twisted in pity, and you looked about as your brain raced to think of a solution, the lack of supplies leaving you with very few options. There was no way to build a fire, nor was there any power supply to start up the building's climate control, which was probably busted anyway. If only you had a tiny jacket to share...

"I need to get you warm; fast. Let me think... oh!"

The solution that came to you was very silly, and in a less life-threatening situation you would have thought it was quite embarrassing, but the prospect of saving your beloved Scout left no room for such doubts. Unzipping the front of your coat, you offered a hand for him to climb onto.

"Come here. You'll be plenty warm under my coat." you explained, figuring he'd fit perfectly between your shirt and the ample padding. Despite the chill, Bee managed a pink blush across his frozen cheeks, optics going wide in bashful embarrassment as he put together what you meant. It seemed that his pride hadn't shrunk with him.

"Y-you don't have-"

"Shush. At this rate, you'll freeze before our ride gets here" you insisted, voice growing a tad more urgent at his worsening freeze. Just watching his wings shake in time with his shivers made you care little for any kind of pride, including your own, and you used your concern to remain steadfast. Bringing your hand close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from your glove made his resolve visibly waver. "So for now, my heat is your heat."

"Mmm..." he hummed in uncertainty, growing more tempted by the second. No bigger than a kitten and only slightly more intimidating, he cracked after only a few additional moments of hesitation, steadying himself against your thumb as he sat in your palm. He couldn't have weighed more than a pound, and you had to stifle a reflexive squee as he instinctively pressed himself into the warmth of your hand. A drooping of his optics made resisting that much harder. "Maybe just for a few minutes..."

"Of course." you said with a knowing smile. Gently sliding him into the opening of your coat, you just managed to avoid hissing as his frigid mesh settled against your shirt, though it was easy to ignore the discomfort when the tiny bot melted against you. With the outcrop of your breasts to support him, and the... "plush" of the area in question to keep him comfortable, Bee settled down as quickly as one would on a luxary mattress. Shivers dying down before your very eyes, the Scout rested his helm against you with the tiniest sigh. You had an undeniable urge to pet him as you whispered down into the little pocket of warmth. "There. Better?"

"Much... thank you." he murmured, looking up to meet your eyes with a smile as grateful as it was sleepy. Hoping he couldn't hear the resulting flutter of your heart, you pulled the zipper up a tad to keep the heat from escaping, grateful that your mammalian physiology could come in such handy. You'd have happily watched him rest his optics for hours, but a hum in the distance drew your gaze to the frosty window. Through the thick whirls of snow, your squinting eyes made out the faint outline of a familiar truck and aircraft, followed by a number of other vehicles you'd been hoping to see. The convoy had arrived.

"I think that's our evac, do you want-"

You went quiet at the sound of the tiniest snores you'd ever heard emanating from your coat, and as soon as your heart was done with its backflip, you found yourself wondering whether or not Bee would wish to be woken before his comrades saw him snoozing atop your breasts.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

The problem with summoning ghosts in Gotham will obviously not just concern the Ghost King.

~~~

Danny and Sam are in the cafe.

Sam: The fires on the horizon of Gotham are burning particularly bright today.

Danny: Yeah, it’s so romant-

Sam: Suspicious. Something happened. Come on, we need to hurry.

~~~

One of Gotham’s warehouses. An hour earlier.

Signal to Bats: Don’t worry, Danny’s older brother doesn’t fight cult members.

Dan’s dirty words in the background.

Signal: He immediately bites their heads off. Run!

Jazz: Sorry, he’s so nervous about college deadlines. It makes him aggressive.

A piece of the roof breaks and lands where Nightwing stood a second ago.

Jazz:..more than usual.

Fright Knight: Sir! Please calm down! His Majesty will be displeased..

Dan: I left an unfinished timed test because of them! I’m not gonna rest until the perpetrators are meted justic! so I will fry their asses to a crisp.

Jazz*is banging her head on a notebook*: One damn summoning and all therapy needs to start again.

~~~

Signal: Okay, look, deep..deep down, Dan’s not a bad guy, honestly.

Nightwing: So he’ll be sorry for losing control of his anger? Just as Little Wing?

Signal:..deeper

Hood: Brave of you to think I’m repenting. I’ll always be the crazy bad b*tch in this family.

Batman:..always..in this family..

Hood *facepalm*: That's the one thing you heard me say?!

[violettwrites]

hi!! will you please write another fic about daryl x reader

reader seeing/experiencing something traumatic and she’s shaking and tears rolling down her cheeks and daryl sits down in front of her trying to comfort her.

safe in your skin 🏹 daryl dixon

a/n: hi nonnie than you so much for this request !! ( and sorry it took so long 😭 ) i listened to the song linked while writing this and highly recommend you guys do too !! it’s beautiful and tigers jaw is one of my fave bands 🫶🏻 anyway i hope you enjoy this !! and as always, don’t forget to like/reblog if you enjoyed this and feel free to follow me to see more of my stuff !! x

i also just realised gregory is the fkn asshole from hilltop but this is NOT him i just couldn’t think of names apparently i am so sorry

as always, my ask box is open !

( intended lowercase )

summary: reader and daryl go on a supply run, but are separated from someone close to them— when they do eventually find them, they must learn to deal with the unforgiving curse that is life.

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 848

the woods were eerily quiet, the usual rustle of leaves and the distant calls of wildlife had been replaced by a thick and heavy silence. you and daryl had been split from gregory during a supply run, someone you had been through the fall with since the start. your best friend in this unforgiving world. but you had known he was smart enough to survive on his own until the two of you found him. or so you thought.

the sun was starting to breach the horizon, the soft glow casting an almost angelic light over the town daryl had led you to in search for your best friend. if it was anyone else, he probably would have told them it wasn’t worth risking their lives to look for him, but you were different.

making your way towards the warehouse you all were supposed to go to so you could find supplies, you stopped once you reached the parking lot, spotting a group of walkers, all crouched down as they feasted on something— someone.

gregory.

you knew that brown coat he had worn since the start, now covered in blood and guts— the remains of what was once your best friend. the sight was too much, causing you to drop to your knees, mouth open to speak but nothing came out.

the brutal reality hit you like a tidal wave— all at once. sure, you had lost people before. people that were close to you, but there was something so much different about losing your best friend. your confidant. the one you told everything to. just taken away from you like that. he was gone. his last moments presented to you in a gruesome way— a way he never wanted to go out.

your hand shakily came to your mouth, tears clouding your vision as they freely streamed down your cheeks, choked sobs coming from your lips as you tried to process what happened, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t get your head around the fact he was truly gone. it was a sight that was haunting, knowing it would be imprinted in your mind for the rest of your life.

daryl, ever the stoic figure he was, had been beside you, at a loss for words. he watched as you struggled to keep yourself together, but the sight of you silently breaking down next to him made his heart wrench. you didn’t deserve to see your best friend’s end like that. no one did.

he took a deep breath, crouching down slowly in front of you, fearing that any sudden moment or words might shatter you further.

“hey,” he spoke softly, his rough voice carrying a tenderness that was rarely heard. he reached out, placing his hands on your shoulder in attempt to ground you— to bring you back to this reality, as much as you didn’t want to be here.

you looked up at him, eyes red and glassy, struggling to form words. daryl didn’t push; he simply stayed there, his present a silent testament to his support. he wasn’t asking you to speak or pretend you were okay, he was just there, a steady presence in the midst of your storm.

as the minutes ticked by, daryl slowly pulled you into a gentle embrace, arms tightly wrapped around you. you rested your head against his chest, body still trembling as you tried to come to terms with the loss you had just suffered suddenly. you tried to focus on the beat of his heart, steady as you listened, a small yet significant reassurance. he stroked your hair with one hand, the other still holding you close.

“i know,” he murmured into your hair, his voice rough yet filled with emotion. “it ain’t fair, it ain’t right.” he paused for a moment, swallowing hard as he tried to find the right words. “but we gotta keep goin’. for him. for everyone we lost. we gotta keep movin’.”

you nodded against him, the closeness offering a fragile sense of comfort. you knew daryl was right, the world didn’t stop for anyone. and the dead wouldn’t stop for anything. not even your tears and cries. but the ache in your chest was still painful. yet his presence was a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, you weren’t alone.

eventually, you pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. there was a shared understanding in his eyes, an unspoken bond formed through loss and survival. everyone had experienced the same thing. but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

daryl offered a small, encouraging nod, and together, you stood up, ready to face the rest of your journey— knowing it would be filled with more moments like this. as much as you wish it wasn’t— that cruel things didn’t have to happen to such kind people.

the road ahead was uncertain and filled with the echoes of loss, but with daryl by your side, you took your first step forward, carrying the memory of gregory with you— not his gruesome death, but the light he brought to your life.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Reckoning Virus

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

War with the Interaxie was an inevitable outcome for humanity and the entire galaxy knew it.

Border disputes, clashing rights over trade, subtle threats between delegates and near constant animosity between the two powers all but assured that they would come to blows. Along the entire shared border between the two powers a sense of dread and waiting could be felt on every world as if they could sense the brewing storm just over the horizon.

Yet humanity could not afford to be the aggressors for a change.

Unlike their previous conflicts the Interaxie had a well-organized military and an industrial power base to support them for decades of sustained combat. They had dozens of worlds to draw upon near limitless manpower reserves meaning any conflict could be drawn out into a bloody stalemate. While the humans were not unfamiliar with this style of warfare it was an outcome they did not wish to see realized.

To prevent this outcome humanity put a plan into motion called “The Reckoning”, which when completed would hand them victory in the war within a few months at best.

While the Interaxie were gathering their strength and hiding their growing fleet strength behind ‘military exercises” a series of shipments were being delivered to the core worlds of the Interaxie. They arrived at trade ports and were moved to waiting warehouses as their paperwork was checked only for the shipments to mysteriously vanish. It wasn’t unheard of for a shipment or two to go missing at such facilities, and though on some of the world’s their disappearance was noticed and investigated for the majority of others they were written off as clerical mistakes. The trade network between worlds was after all vast and overwhelmed by bureaucratic red tape so it was not unheard of for a shipment to be mishandled.

Such trivialities were soon overshadowed as the eventual war broke out and trade quickly shut down between the two powers. What had been mild border conflicts broke out into ruthless fleet sized engagements that turned entire systems into orbital graveyards of ships overnight. Human Hammerhead dreadnoughts were taking on entire swarms of Interaxie drone swarms in space while the Terran Marine Corps were barely holding their own against Interaxie armored divisions on the planets of Theta, Primus, and Dollore.

The fighting was intense and just as predicted the Interaxie began to call upon their vast manpower reserves early in an attempt to simply overrun human opposition and claim a swift victory. Legions began mustering on their core worlds waiting for transport to the front when the war took a turn for the worse for the would-be alien conquerors.

Without warning several viral outbreaks began to be reported from the Interaxie core worlds. Infected individuals began showing heightened states of aggression and delirium with the worst cases quickly devolving to bouts of madness and rage. What made it worse was when local officials quarantined an area in hopes of isolating the infected a new series of outbreaks would happen somewhere else entirely leaving containment out of the question.

It did not take long for civil unrest to break out as the virus spread into major populated areas and shortly after states of emergency to be declared. Factories ground to a halt as the workers fled the infection to protect themselves and their loved ones, farms and fields left unattended as their caretakers no lay lost to the grips of the disease leaving shelves unfilled and empty. Fights broke out for what supplies remained and though provisions could have been supplied from off world spaceports were soon overrun by those wishing to flee. When the infected reached a critical state of the virus’s development they began lashing out at anyone and everyone within arms reach resulting in the near total collapse of order on worlds as waves of infected ran through the streets

The legions that had been mustering to be sent the front soon found themselves being redeployed for containment or worse, becoming largely infected themselves and losing all combat effectiveness. Interaxie warriors were forced to put down many of their comrades who had succumbed to the virus leaving them horrified by their actions. It was worse for those deployed as part of containment teams who gunned down thousands of infected civilians on the quarantined worlds, many of which were related to the warriors by blood.

Within a month a dozen worlds had been locked under quarantine with another handful now desperately holding on as infection rates continued to rise, all the while the war with the humans continued. The sudden loss of manpower and war material was certainly noticed on the front and the humans shifted tactics. Every engagement they forced the Interaxie into using whatever reserves they had left as much as possible. Soon it was not uncommon for three Interaxie soldiers to be rationing one power cell for their rifles while their fleets lay in high anchor above their worlds due to lack of fuel to move them out of system.

Unable to meet the current demands of the war and handle the outbreaks spreading through their core worlds, the Interaxie soon sued for peace. The humans were not sympathetic with the Interaxie plight and their demands were steep.

1.       Three border systems would be transferred over to human control.

2.       A DMZ would be established from the newly taken territory and the remaining Interaxie domain which no ship from either side would cross.

3.       The Interaxie would be forced to repay a war debt to humanity in the sum of three trillion credits over the course of the next twenty solar years.

4.       Human monitoring stations would be placed inside Interaxie space to prevent future acts of aggression.

Had it been at any other time the Interaxie would have rather fought on until the bitter end than accept such harsh terms, but with the virus continuing to cripple their military and economy they were left with no choice but to relent and agree to the terms.

With that the Interaxie/Human war came to an abrupt end and the Interaxie redeployed their entire military forces to combat the growing viral outbreaks, all the while Terran Special Services watched from afar and grinned.

Several months prior to the war they had been responsible for shipping a number of unremarkable containers through a series of dummy corporations and unaffiliated alien trade networks until they arrived on the Interaxie core worlds. They bore no human markings and their paperwork was all in order leaving nothing for suspicion. Once they had been moved to the warehouses for processing TSS operatives quietly removed the containers and began distributing the contents across the worlds.

Industrial factories, mining complexes, agricultural farms, super markets, water treatment facilities, power plants; any and all critical infrastructure locations were located and seeded with the contents of the containers before the operatives quickly fled off world.

When war finally broke out a signal was remotely sent and each of the packages cracked open releasing their deadly contents. Swarms of tiny mosquitos genetically bred to carry what was known as the Reckoning Virus were soon released and began spreading the virus with every victim they came into contact with.

It was an ecological disaster of unimaginable proportion. Not only did the insects infect the personnel of the facilities they were placed in, but they also began to spread outwards and begin breeding in new areas. Any source of water soon became a deadly petri dish for them as they reproduced at an alarming rate releasing further swarms of insects. On these alien worlds they had no natural predators and what wildlife did attempt to eat them soon became deadly sick with the virus as well leading to rampant overpopulation of the bugs.

The Interaxie were well aware of the seemingly good timing the outbreaks had been for the humans and long suspected their involvement but could not prove anything as the TSS had planned for such eventualities. None of the devices used were of human origin and even if they could track down how they had arrived on world the series of dummy companies and alien trade networks used to ship them there resulted in a labyrinth of legal networks and commissions needed for even the slightest scrap of information that would lead nowhere.

For almost ten years the virus remained effective before the Interaxie were finally able to find a way to not only cure the virus but also eliminate the invasive species of mosquitoes, but by then the damage was already done. Both their military and trade had been crippled by the viral outbreaks and with several of their primary manufacturing worlds now defunct the flow of goods to the remaining worlds was almost a trickle. Extreme measures of rationing were implemented which only led to further discontent and civil unrest which in turn was brutally put down by military forces. What had once been a galactic power now had been reduced to a third rate kingdom barely able to hold a trade agreement out of their domain let alone ever again extend their power through military force.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 18

Description: Miguel deals with Todd, and has a late night visitor—you.

Pt 19

The purr of car engines overhead, the slight rattling of the bridge, the coos of pigeons and the soft lapping of the waves fills Miguel's ears as he stares down at the waterlogged corpse at his feet.

“Lyla, how many people know about this?”

“About the mauled body of your new girlfriend's ex-boyfriend?” Lyla smirks, her heart shaped sunglasses low on her nose as she observes the scene.

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Lyla, please just answer my question.”

“Just a few displaced people along the river, the Swedish shipping vessel that reported the sighting, and the Coast Guard has the call record, but since you got lucky with the currents and since I made a few more urgent calls to the Coast Guard, they haven't set eyes on him yet.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Thank you.” He says as he zips up the body bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do with him?” She asks, flickering in and out of his masked vision.

“Acid.”

“Acid? Lame.” Lyla huffs.

He snorts. “It's quick, efficient, and less likely to leave a trace.”

“Yeah, but wasn't he like a total dick to y/n?”

He grunts in response as he swings through the city until he finds the disposal grounds of Janson Inc, the manufacturing company you mentioned Todd works for.

“I mean, I thought you'd go way more psycho than you did.” She says, laughter on the horizon of her tone.

“Lyla” He warns, as he heaves the body bag containing Todd into the acid, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the fabric, flesh, and bone dissolve.

“Ok, ok, I'm just saying, I think I know you pretty well and-”

“I want him forgotten, I want y/n to forget about him.”

Lyla says nothing for a moment, then sighs heavily. “Miguel…you know it doesn't work like that. You might have been able to easily replace this universe's version of you, but that doesn't mean you can just as easily replace Todd.”

Miguel turns from the acid, the surrounding area bathed in a sickly green glow. “I know.”

“And you know y/n's different from Ana, Xina, Dana, and even Tempest, she cares about you, about Gabi. She really cares about Gabi. She's not just going to jump you now that her ex-boyfriend is gone. She's going to weigh the consequences.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, and for a moment his mind supplies him with the memory of you begging for him, his name on your lips like a fervent plea as you fall apart on his thigh. Of the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you reached for him in the doorway of your apartment.

He grunts in response. He knows you, better than you know he does, better than Todd did, perhaps better than anyone else in the world. You'll weigh the consequences, but that doesn't mean he can't try to lighten the load.

“Okay, Mr. Stupid and Silent, don't believe me. It's your funeral.” Lyla huffs before her form flickers out, and he's left alone in the dark.

Miguel unlocks the door to his apartment and silently pads through the quiet space.

Gabi's asleep, he knows this. You're asleep, he knows this. He should also be asleep, but he's filled with a nameless emotion--an anxious energy raging against the edges of sleep that are threatening to creep in on him.

He sits at his desk, flipping through security feeds, ensuring there's no record of him. He's clean, there's no trace of him or Todd.

He was smart, made sure no one would see when he broke into Todd's apartment and knocked him out.

No one noticed as he carried Todd's unconscious body to an abandoned warehouse, and no one heard Todd's screams as he tore into him, leaving him a mangled mess that Miguel finally dangled him off the bridge.

He watched unflinching as Todd plummeted. The sound of Todd's body slamming into the water echoed off the banks, and Miguel waited until he sank to return to his apartment.

No one would ever know. He got away clean.

“Hey Boss? Y/N's here.” Lyla says, her words hitting him a millisecond before he hears your soft knocking on his door.

He bolts up, running a hand through his hair and checking his appearance in the hall mirror before he swings open the door to see you. Perfect, perfect you.

Your hair is loose, hanging free, and you're clad in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweatshirt.

Are you wearing pants under that? Shorts? Is this a seduction tactic? Because it's working.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I just...” You wave your hands helplessly, your nails are pink, a pretty pearlescent pink.

He reaches out to catch one of your hands in one of his, squeezing it slightly. “Don't apologize, I’m more than willing to help, whatever it is.”

You give him an embarrassed smile. “Okay, so, it's a new apartment and I swear I keep hearing all these noises, and I know it’s childish but...would you come and take a look? Make sure there's nothing there?”

He's in love with you, fully, completely, unreservedly.

“Of course, y/n, I felt the same way when I moved in. The building is a bit older, there are lots of creaks and groans.”

He follows you to your apartment as he says this, and you look back at him in surprise. “You were scared?”

He chuckles sheepishly. “Actually, Gabi was, I just wanted to make you feel better.”

You smile and duck your head. “I appreciate the effort."

You hold the door open for him, then stand in your lit kitchen, your arms wrapped around yourself. Your bare thighs are exposed by the rising fabric of your sweatshirt, and he averts his eyes. 

He strangles his desire to sink to his knees and grip the soft flesh of your thighs, to wrench them apart and bury his face between them. To watch you come apart on his tongue as the sounds of your pleas and moans fill the air.

“I feel like I heard something near the balcony. You say, tearing him from his thoughts.

“I’ll go check.” He tells you, making his way towards your balcony, his senses on high alert even though he knows there's nothing.

It's an older building, Gabi was scared when they first moved in, that much is true. But there's nothing to be scared of, he's ensured that. In fact, this building, this block might be the safest in all of Nueva York.

Miguel throws open your balcony door and makes a show of checking every inch. He's rewarded by your soft laugh.

“All clear?” You take a half step forward, a smile playing at your lips, the lingering traces of sleep still gracing your expression.

“All clear. Anywhere else you want me to check?”

You nod towards your bedroom. “I swear I heard shuffling in my bathroom.”

He waits at your door, looking back at you. “Through here?”

You breeze past him and sit cross-legged on the edge of your bed. “The door on the left.”

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light. He's seen this room already, through your necklace, but standing there, on your plush, pastel purple bath mat, looking into your mirror, the mirror he's admired your bare body in, sends him into a tailspin.

“You see anything?” You call softly.

He shakes his head. “Nothing, no monsters lurking in between your towels.

“I didn't think there were monsters." You mumble, padding over to him, your scent hitting him like a freight train.

Has it always been this strong, or was it because he's in your home and everything around him screams y/n?

He inhales deeply, his fingers curling around the edge of your sink, his eyes closed as he fights to calm himself.

“Miguel? Are you okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.

He pulls you forward, pressing your back against the sink, his arms on either side caging you in.

You look up at him with an adorable expression of surprise, as if you hadn't seen his agility when he was disguised as Spiderman. “Miguel?”

He steels himself, even as he feels the plaster of your sink give beneath his fingers. He'll fix that later.

“Pancakes or French Toast?”

“I'm sorry?” You ask stunned.

“For breakfast, cariño, which would you prefer?” He forces the words out, prays they're smooth and unassuming.

You smile up at him, and he feels his stomach flip. It's a childish thing, for a small smile to affect him this way.

“Oh, pancakes please, and I can help you cook if you need.”

You're so sweet.

“No, no, mi vida, I'm cooking. All you need to do is keep me company.”

Your eyes follow the movement of his lips, and his nostrils flare when he smells the arousal wafting off you.

“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” You insist, palms resting against his chest.

He leans down and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “I'm sure, now goodnight y/n.”

Then he leaves you there and heads back to his apartment, his head spinning, your scent still lingering around him.

Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (Part IX)

IX. The road ahead

MASTERLIST

Summary: You leave Atlanta in hopes of finding refuge, a place to be, to belong

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Bare it with me, my favorite trope is arranged marriage because I have no idea how to build it up, haha, and Daryl is so complex, but I’m giving it my best shot alright?

You ran out of Atlanta, abandoning like it was riddled with the plague, not that it wasn’t already, but you get the meaning.

You were not going to DC, you were not going to Lake Lanier. 

At least not yet, you were driving Noah to his house first which was on the way to Washington DC, Beth had insisted, You were a big group, you were slower because of it, but all of you were seasoned survivors by now, you were strong together.

You came to know that you had lost Bob, which didn’t personally upset you since you never even spoke to him, but Sasha was terribly sad, as he was her partner, and it was awful to lose someone, whoever that was.

You gathered Gabriel, Michonne, Carl and Judith, and you started your long journey

Usually, it would be like eight hours of driving to DC, but traveling had gotten extremely slow in the apocalypse, especially since most roads were cut. You had barely drove for a couple of hours until you had to stop in a small industrial neighborhood, both because rather the car had decided to stop working and also you needed to change cars and regroup

But the sun was falling over the horizon, so you offered yourself to clear out a bodega nearby, with a couple of floors of offices, more comfortable for sleeping.

“I’ll go with ya”, jumped Daryl, who had barely even looked at you since they rescued Beth. You wanted to say no, that you didn’t need a babysitter

“I’ll go too”, said Rosita, and you were relieved. Something had shifted in the dynamic of that group, Abraham barely spoke, usually he was so driven, but now, since it was revealed that the whole cure thing was a lie, Eugene had an ugly bruise on his face and Abraham sat in the back seat and just looked forwards, didn’t even offer himself to drive.

You and Rosita took the lead while Daryl, behind you, had his crossbow standing in attention. You opened the thick door to the outside to reveal an empty hallway, you took your ax with your left hand and your gun with your right, you had been gifted with being ambidextrous, and you had nurtured it during your time alone.

You knocked on every door, clearing it office by office. 

It wasn’t until you reached the warehouse at the very end of the hallway when the fun began, at least ten walkers came for you as soon as you opened the door.

“Let’s get the party started”, you muttered, Rosita only smirked.

Daryl stood behind you, you felt him shift uncomfortably, as you and Rosita, knife and ax in hand, threw yourself at the walkers

Piercing skulls was more difficult than it seemed, truly. Well, in your experience it really depended on the… state… of the walker you were about to hit.

You drew the first walker blood, as you took the first one out of his undead misery with a swing of your ax, the second one was coming near, so you kicked it, made it stumble back giving you a few moments to take foot and end him too.

At some point this became cathartic. like a relief, you were ending the enemy, fighting the fight, the living VS the dead

You and Rosita fought them all, Daryl ended a couple of them, saying nothing, but you appreciated that he gave you your space to do what you had to do, what you offered yourself to. 

Rosita was badass, she was, her movements were impeccable as she took those walkers out, you exchanged looks and she smiled at you

“Those were some sick moves”, she admitted, “not bad new girl”, you chuckled

“Not so bad yourself Espinosa”, you said back with a wink

Daryl just watched the scene, interested. 

“Should we clean more floors?”, you said

“Damn straight”, she said, “let’s see what else we can find”, she said, after taking a look around, there were only boxes filled with odd metallic pieces you couldn’t recognize. So you moved on from the warehouse, Daryl barely nodded, and followed you like he was your bodyguard

With everything that had happened lately, being saved by Daryl repeatedly and then judged harshly by Carol and him too, you wanted to show what you could do, looking to prove yourself again, but this time, for your own sake, rather than to prove anything to them, if anything, you were annoyed that Daryl was there looking over your shoulder.

You went room by room on the second floor, as usual, you didn’t find anything too exciting. a couple of walkers.

A thing that you never liked to do… was to play detective, to draw a story about who these people were, how did they die if they were alone, you tried not to… look… too much at the scenes. You had seen things, terrible things, that you did not wish to remember right now.

So you tried to separate… walker from person…. they were not people anymore, and that is what you were comfortable with

You took a swing so hard your ax got stuck in the wall, you had to use your leg as leverage to take it out. 

It was a good exercise, you were afraid you were getting out of practice 

You cleaned up every floor, without a single bullet being shot, you took them out one by one.

As you cleared the last office, finding a couple of nice bottles of scotch in what it looked to be the boss’ office 

With complacent smiles and a good bounty you returned to the group after having a couple of swings from the bottle, only Rosita and you, Daryl, denied to take a sip.

You returned and Rick seemed impressed, so they all entered the building you had secured. 

The rest of them were scouting the area, searching specially for gas for the cars. You still had the things you had from your safehouse, so you ate together in a cleared office. 

These moments where odd, dining all together, like a strange family, with lots of uncles, and nephews and nieces

It was odd, but it felt nice.

Then the scotch appeared and they all seemed content, taking drinks, for different reasons…

Many of them celebrated they found Beth and their group was put together again, the others, for sorrows, for the broken promise of a solution to all this madness. Some celebrated that we were fine, and on our path to something better, others tried to drown their fears of the uncertainty of the near future.

But there wasn’t enough buzz for anybody to get really drunk, so after dinner, everybody split up.

Everybody knew what to do for the night, the scavengers looked for useful things around in the small neighborhood, the others prepared for the journey the next day, others set up lookouts points to take guard, Beth and Rick stayed with the kids. 

You felt weary of Rick, and how he treated you so delicately, so, you did what you used to do best, you went to the roof. You were a bit tired after slaying a dozen walkers so, you guessed you could take the first watch from the high point of the area. 

You came out the door of the roof, and you weren’t surprised when you saw Daryl there, you had seen him sneak out of the room when the liquor started pouring 

You were starting to… getting to know him better, he was the guardian of the group, always making sure everyone was safe and fed. You couldn’t sneak up on him, he was already looking at you when you found him.

“You should sleep a bit”, you said softly, he only acknowledged you and nodded, growling a bit. He tended to do a lot of that, just a little rumble, a sound from way inside his throat, but you were learning to interpret them

“What ‘bout ya’?”, he asked

“I have been training myself to sleep at day”, you said, with a soft smile. 

You sat right by his side, completely violating his personal space, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was not that he was paying close attention to what was going on, it was just that he couldn’t sleep. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t speak, you just sat there, breathing softly, looking at the scenery with sharp eyes. He was seated against a big squared vent, close to the edge, so you could see a lot of the area front here, even if you were setting there

You didn’t say anything else.

. . . 

It’s been a while since Daryl felt this peaceful

He felt relaxed, even deep in slumber, when he started to come to his senses, he felt a soft sway, like the one of a boat in a tranquil lagoon with barely any ripples in water. Then, he heard, he felt, your soft breathing, on top of his head, on his forehead, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the top curve of your breasts, hiding comfortably in your brassier, under your soft looking shirt with a generous V-neck line. He saw your chest, your beautiful skin, how soft it seemed, he wished he could touch it… he tried to look up but the angle didn’t allow him to see your face, so he regained control of his body and he separated himself from you.

There you were, peacefully sleeping as he had been, the sun was already shining softly in the horizon.

When he realized how much he was leaning into you he separated himself from you, and that is what woke you, the lack of the presence of the archer stuck to your side as it was when you finally went to sleep

He couldn’t believe he had lowered his guard like this, and not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was supposed to be on guard, vigilant, taking care of his group

“It’s already morning”, you said groggily

He couldn't believe he had been looking at your cleavage, what was he thinkin?

He couldn't believe he had been looking at you like a deer in headlights since he met you, that he had never felt this comfortable in who knows how long, that he was almost impressed when he saw how you took down those walkers with only your ax, he couldn’t believe he was… feeling this… things… he… he stood up like the floor was lava, like you would burn him

“We gotta go”, he said quickly, you barely nodded, and he left you there, alone.

You didn’t even understand what was going on, but he almost sprinted full speed away from you. 

You stood up, the uncomfortable position you took all night taking a toll on your sore extremities, but to no matter, he was right.

You went down the stairs and found Rick, Carol, Glenn and Maggie, who looked at you and where you had come from. Rick looked at you kind of concerned, Maggie and Glenn with funny faces, entertained, and Carol seemed angry.

“Morning”, you greeted softly, “is everything alright?”

“Except by the fact that Daryl ran off, yes”, said Maggie with a silly smile, you felt your cheeks heated, looking everywhere but at their faces

“We were discussing how to proceed ahead”, said Rick, “with the big group we have”, you nodded and kept walking.

“No luck with more gas?”, you asked, and they shook their heads, “there are other towns nearby”, you said softly.

“Yes, let’s move to the next one”, said Rick, “let’s pack up and go”, he commanded

“I’ll make sure everybody has some place to take provisions, so we can divide the weight”, said Carol.

You walked back where everybody was refreshing themselves, you had found a working bathroom so everybody took turns to freshen up. You had checked the tank upstairs and still was halfway filled with water.

“Where have you been?”, asked Rosita with a smirk

“I slept on the roof, old habits die hard I guess”, you said with a shy smile

“Alooone?”, she tease, but you only shook your head with a smile, and kept moving

Last night meant nothing, you literally just offered your shoulder to sleep on and he accepted, nothing less or nothing more. 

Everybody packed up, and you started moving, leaving the huge fire truck behind.

You started walking North, you were a big group and you felt safe, for the first time in ages, there were no hordes or walkers near and you followed a road up north, a small road, to not draw too much attention to yourselves, from neither the living or dead.

You walked until you saw a sign, saying that you were already in South Carolina, you had left Georgia behind, and your plan to go to Lake Lanier. You don't resent Rick for leading you towards Washington, it was the sanest idea.

You didn’t even know what was there, an old margarita ville, cabins, yachts and a big hotel, it could be a huge bust, right?

So you just went along, is not like you could separate from them and go yourself, you didn’t want to split up, you felt safe with them, you felt like a force of nature, to be reckoned with 

At first, you were walking all together, on a line, as the day progressed you started to separate in groups, some started talking amongst themselves, you got a bit delayed and walked behind them, hand in your holster, ready for everything.

You were guarding them, taking care of them even from a bit afar, so that would give you a bit of perspective for possible dangers.

The sun was burning you from above, right a the center of the sky when you stop for something to eat

You still had bottled water to last you for today and maybe breakfast tomorrow, but no more than that, so you hoped you could find a town for tonight.

RIck looked for you with his eyes, and when he found you, he seemed concerned

“You alright?”, he asked, cradling Judith against his chest, you nodded

“Yeah sure”, you muttered

“I know you believed Lake Lanier was the way to go, but…”

“It's fine Rick”, you said simply, “I was just protecting our backs”, you said with a smile, he nodded placing a hand on your shoulder

“Thank you”, he said

You helped Tyresse, Beth, Carol and Noah to make food for everyone, Daryl set the fire of course and then escaped into the woods, out of sight. 

You baked some canned beans, in cans, and everyone seemed contented, you didn’t have anything better, and there were a lot of you, 

You wondered what happened to all the farm animals… in farms… the dead also ate animals, the fuckers, they were going to eat you too… farms you gathered, were screwed, specially those with small paddocks, nowhere for the animals to run from the dead.

You really wanted some eggs and rice right now, you never liked beans.

You chuckled just thinking about it, oh the things you had to eat now…

“What’s so funny?”, asked Rick, truly interested, you only shook your head

“I was just thinking how I wish I could eat eggs with rice right now, I never liked beans, and then I remembered we are in the middle of the apocalypse”, you laughed, and despite the surreal of the situation, everybody laughed

“I would give everything for some barbecue ribs”, muttered Abraham

“Tacos al pastor”

“A cheeseburger”

“Sushi form that japanese place near my apartment”

“Ceviche”

“Some pizza from Domino’s”

And everybody shared their desired foods, well, except Sasha, she looked utterly horrified by the topic, like she couldn’t believe what you were saying

You continued after that, taking out the fire.

You kept moving.

This time, you wanted to walk back, like you have done, but Daryl, surprisingly, had the same idea, he walked behind the group, and naturally, you started walking together.

“What was your favorite food?”, you asked him softly

“Wha’?”, he asked back

“Back there we all shared what we would like to eat, from before”, you said, “what would be your food?”, you asked softly, he looked back at you quizzically

“What kind of idiot question is tha’?”, you looked down, a bit embarrassed

“Well, just making conversation”, you whispered. an awkward silence stood between you now.

“Roast chicken”, he said then, you looked up at him

“Good choice”, you said, “A classic”, he looked at you, you looked back at him, and he actually smiled softly at you.

You kept walking, in a silence that wasn’t awkward anymore.

@crazyunsexycool

[1americanconservative]

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy,’ she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive

through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.’

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice.. ‘The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.

They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said.

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~ THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

At the bottom of this great story was a request to forward this - I deleted that request because if you have read to this point, you won't have to be asked to pass it along you just will...

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

[todayontumblr]

Tuesday, August 15.

Welcome to Planet of the Bass.

He is The Man of The Hour. All appeared lost as we entered the first days of August, 2023, with still no Song of the Summer to call our own. At this darkest moment, one man and one woman appeared on the horizon; like Gandalf and Éomer in the east, overlooking Helm's Deep. Only where Gandalf brought shadowfax, the morning light, and 2,000 riders, this summer, DJ Crazy Times and Ms. Biljana Electronica bring nothing but bass, bass, baggy crop tops, Y2K club outfits, more bass, and skiing goggles. And we simply cannot thank them enough. So if you have spent the last week pondering the big questions, like how life, it never die, or if women are your favorite guy, then know that today there is nothing to be sad: #planet of the bass is released, in full, today. Everybody, movement.

And did we mention a Tumblr-exclusive DJ Crazy Times Spotlight?

That's right. The man himself has sat down with us to answer the internet's burning questions in this latest Spotlight over at @music. His all-time gladdest rhythm? Other long-lost staples of the 90s he would love to bring back? What he would do during a cyber system overload? It's all here. We'll be seeing you in an undisclosed warehouse in an disclosed city in an undisclosed Eastern European nation.

And bring skiing goggles x

[peachdues]

DYLANNN. DYLAN NO. DYLANNNN.

“Who owns it?”

Kaigaku shrugs. “Some overseas corporation. They made their billions selling weapons to armed militias and underground groups in other countries that then took power.”

Uzui whistles through his teeth. “Ain’t that how it always goes?”  

The dark-haired boy nods. “Seems like they’ve got storage all over the place – mainly in countries they know won’t sanction ‘em even if the regimes they arm turn out to be shit.”

“Or pay to keep their own fat cats in power.” Sanemi quips darkly.

Kaigaku flashes him a sly grin. “We oughta help lighten their load a bit. Gotta be hard to keep track of all that steel.”

Sanemi doesn’t return the boy’s smile, too off-put by the way his teeth seem rounded and sharp in the dingy light of the basement. “Place like this has to be teeming with security. How’re we supposed to get in unseen? Or at least enough that we can neutralize any interference?”

Kaigaku leans forward and shuffles through the blueprints until he pulls out an old, water-stained sheet. “According to the old building plans, there’s a basement. That’s probably where they keep the bulk of the goods.”

He runs a finger along a sketched path. “This is a delivery channel – it’s like an underground tunnel that runs up. Connects to an emergency exit. A truck could back up to it, and someone can run crates. Load it right into the back.”

Sanemi studies the blueprint for a long while, his eyes looking for any obstacles, any potential flaw that could leave them open to attack. But, he finds that as loathe as he is to admit it, the boy’s plan is surprisingly sound.

If at least two or three of their ranks could work the basement, then they could conceivably fill up a truck with the loot and slip out without being caught. And even if they were, by Kaigaku’s own intel, the security wouldn’t be nearly as tight as it might be if the warehouse was fully operational.  

Really, the benefits outweighed whatever marginal risk there was. And, judging by the increase in violence from the Kizukis, the Corps would need all the extra metal they could get their hands on to prepare for the inevitable war that loomed on the blooded horizon.  

Sanemi turns his attention to his junior. “Tell Iguro we need a cab. Whatever they’ve got in storage, clean it out. If you think you can’t split away clean, take a handful of Kinoe and get them to put down as much C4 in the basement as we can take. Get out and send that shack sky-high.”

“Big boom like that will have the place swarming with cops in no time.” Uzui points out. “You’ll have to be quick – I give you ten minutes, tops. Probably less.”

“But an explosion will cover up any trace of us.” Sanemi counters. “Plus, a warehouse stuffed full of live ammo? Not beyond the realm of possibility that it’s holding explosives in there, too. Could look like an unavoidable accident.”

“What about cover?” A dark-haired Junior speaks up, voice shaking, but eyes determined.

Sanemi turns to Kaigaku. “Will we need a sniper?”

The boy chews on his bottom lip for a moment as his eyes scan the blueprints scattered across the table. “Nah,” he decides after a moment. “That warehouse has been gatherin’ dust for at least a year. Security guards likely will be armed, but they won’t have nothin’ more powerful than a handgun. Should be easy enough to take out, if it comes to it.”

Sanemi cuts his eyes back to the two Juniors. “One Pillar should go. This seems too big a job to leave to a bunch of rookies.”

Uzui raises an eyebrow. “You volunteering?”

“Your ass sure as shit won’t. Not on a Friday night.”  

The silver-haired Pillar taps a single finger to his nose and winks. “And it’ll be payday for the Business District. My joints are gonna be full of big spenders.”

“Then I guess I’m on.” Sanemi says smoothly, folding his arms across his chest. “We’ll meet here Friday evening. Ten o’clock.”

🤐🤐🤐

[kaiijo]

PROMISES — FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn! reader content: third-year! megumi + reader, canon-typical descriptions of injuries and blood

You can’t make promises as a jujutsu sorcerer. You’ve learned this the hard way. Telling people — vowing to them — that you’ll protect them, that you’ll keep them safe is a waste of time. Swearing that you’ll come back alive and in one piece is a waste of time. Making any promises in this world, filled with so much blood and death and sorrow, is a complete and utter waste of time. You’ve lost too many friends and allies and complete strangers to believe anything else.

There’s blood pouring out of your nose and you can taste the iron tang on your tongue. You are almost certain that at least four ribs are broken and you’re bruised and scraped in more places than you can count.

This was supposed to be an easy exorcism, a low-grade curse in an abandoned warehouse down by the port so there’s minimal risk of casualties. You were sent out by yourself because of this but it’s clear that the information was incomplete because the minute you finished off that Grade Three curse, a much, much worse one slithered out of the shadows and sent you flying.

You barely manage to exorcize it, almost all your cursed energy is spent and you drag yourself out of the warehouse where Ijichi is waiting for you. He rushes to you just in time as you collapse. “Sorry,” you slur as he helps you lay down in the backseat of the car, passing out as soon as the engine rumbles to life.

You wake up in Shoko’s office, sitting up on the operating table she has inside. When you do, three heads whip towards you: Gojo, Shoko, and Megumi’s. Your boyfriend is quick to get to your side, eyes flickering up and down you, clearly trying to see if there are any wounds that Shoko’s reverse curse technique didn’t heal. You poke his forehead and say, “I’m better now, dummy.”

He frowns at you and your heart sinks a little. You know that he’s not happy with you from the furrow of his brow and the set of his jaw and he opens his mouth to say something but Gojo comes up beside him. His mouth is pressed in a firm line and when he speaks, you hear the guilt in voice. “Ijichi texted me. Told me you were taking longer than expected,” Gojo says. “I was on a special assignment and by the time I finished, you were being driven back to campus.” You can hear the unspoken words: I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.

You crack a grin. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

It makes Gojo chuckle a little but Megumi’s expression is unreadable. It scares you a little. You know that, to most, that’s just Megumi’s normal look, but you know your boyfriend better than that. Learned his little habits and tells. His right eyebrow twitches when he’s angry. He runs his tongue over the edges of his teeth when he’s anxious. But right now, there’s nothing you can read.

Shoko releases you from the infirmary and you walk back to your room with Megumi. It’s evening, the sun is setting on the horizon and painting the sky in shades of yellow and orange that fade into pink and purples. Megumi drops you off at your dorm without another word and you’re not even sure what to say to him.

After a quick shower, you’re sitting in bed when there’s a knock at your door. You open it, surprised to see your boyfriend outside. You let him in, noticing the small rectangular box in his hand.

You sit back on the edge of your bed and stare at him. He stands in front of you, mouth opening and closing and he glances between you and the box in his hand. Finally, he breaks the silence, words slow and deliberate. “I was going to do this after we graduated but… ” He hangs his head. “But you almost died today. And I know it’s not the first time it’s happened to any of us but I just… need to do this now.”

He opens the box and nestled in satin cushioning are two identical silver rings, one a little bigger than the other. Your heart stops. “What are these, Megumi?”

He takes a deep breath. “Promise rings,” he replies. He takes both of them out and holds the smaller one out to you. Your fingers tremble as you close your hand around it, metal cool in your warm palm. “I know we’re not ready to get married now, and we don’t have to get married a month or a year or even ten years from now,” he continues. “But… all I know is that I want to eventually, with you.”

There’s a familiar pressure building behind your eyes, the beginning of tears stinging your waterline. “Megumi,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The air is heavy between the two of you. “You know— I can’t— I don’t—”

Your heart breaks at the hurt that crosses his face. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“No!” you blurt out, tacking on quickly, “I do, Megumi. It’s… you know what I think about things like this.”

“I know,” Megumi says. “But I think you’re wrong. Promises… promises are some of the only things we can hold onto in the darkest moments. What keeps us going when it seems impossible.”

You can’t look him in the eye and you lamely say, “You’re starting to sound like Itadori.”

Megumi huffs out a small laugh and you can’t help but smile a little. He stands in between your legs, cupping your face with his free hand. “I just don’t want anything to happen to either of us without letting you know that I want this forever.”

You lean into his touch and glance down at the ring in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the smooth edge of the silver band. You tilt your head up and look at Megumi. And you think about your first meeting, when Gojo steered you towards the second-years and Megumi — Maki and Panda sparring, Inumaki and Megumi tapping away on their phones — and introducing you; Megumi did a double-take when he saw you and fumbled trying not to drop his phone, something Gojo never lets him live down. You think about when Megumi asked you out, egged on by Itadori and Nobara. You think about your first dates, your first kiss, your first everything with Megumi.

You gently pry Megumi’s hand from your cheek and drop your ring in his palm. He looks devastated so you quickly ask: “Can you put it on my finger?”

Megumi’s ears go red but he sinks to sit on his knees, tenderly pressing a kiss to your left palm before flipping it over and, with so much attention and care, he slides the band around your ring finger. Wordlessly, he hands his to you and you do the same, choosing to brush your lips against the back of his hand. He grips your hand and pulls you, enveloping you in a tight hug, face digging into the crook of your neck and you think that Megumi’s right and that you’ve been wrong this whole time.