#in short comps suck

[peacerisendove]

It's 5 am and I can't sleep

but i also can't be annoyed by this because I took a 4hr "nap" at 8pm. This is on me.

[ragnarokhound]

For the au ask game!

OKAY I wanted specifically to get to the pokemon au from the ask you sent, it's been cooking a bit so it's time to see what comes out of the oven, so... @azol-otl ty for the ask!

Crossover au's are all about the fused worldbuilding for me and speculating on how characters from universe A would fit into universe B heehee hoohoo - and for Batfam especially it's fun to think about the equivalent of their roles as vigilantes! What kind of people have the same level of celebrity, the same sideways seeking of justice?

Naturally this leads you to the gym leaders because a) it's the most fun and b) they are like. Quasi-law enforcement/educators/professional athletes depending on how you try to translate the innate child's perspective on the pokemon universe into something that makes sense as an adult lol ilu pokemon. [insert 'compels me though' gif here]

SO with this in mind, here's 5 fun facts (that are mostly backstory lmao) from a jaytim pokemon au I would write

I'm deeply ill about pokemon so this one goes under the cut lol:

Jason Todd used to be the Champion. He won the role after Dick Grayson quit a year or two before (Dick had been getting older and chafing under the League rules - meaning he'd been chafing under how Bruce ran the League) and was a fierce competitor who didn't believe in going easy on anyone. His Houndoom was a force to be reckoned with, and despite running a mostly Dark-type team, his Honchkrow cleaned up anyone thinking their Fighting-types could sweep. He looked after the League and Gotham with a cocky, self-assured attitude and the win record to back it up. .

Jason disappeared suddenly at the age of 15. Many assumed him dead, after a Rocket (Or whatever Gotham themed gang name we want to go with lol could be Team Joker) bombing in the area he'd last been seen, but he's officially declared missing. Bruce Wayne took back the duties of interim Champion as he once did for Dick Grayson, but he's not quite the mentor he once was. It's obvious he's grieving, and that he doesn't want to mentor any more twelve year olds. Dick signed up to be a Gym Leader shortly after this, returning from his trip about a year early to help out in the chaos following Jason's disappearance. .

Enter Tim Drake. Tim's gym challenge wasn't all that interesting in the circuit at first; he had a rocky start and had to retake a few gym challenges. He wasn't exactly sweeping on his first try every time like Jason had done. He didn't have the meteoric rise that caught the Champion's attention early, didn't get one-on-one mentorship or face-to-face meetings, cautionary advice and congratulations all rolled into one from Bruce Wayne himself - but Tim had patience and grit, and he paid attention. He was gunning for the Championship, and it wasn't just so he could prove himself. Team Rocket/Joker was still out there, and Bruce needed all the help he could get. He was always better for Gotham when he had a Robin. .

Dick had been nicknamed Robin for his all-Flying-type team and especially his Natu-then-Xatu; Jason followed up with his Murkrow-then-Honchkrow; Tim's Rookidee was one among many (Robin-esque pokemon were popularized by Dick and the trend remains through Tim's day) so he wasn't considered a possible Robin successor until it was a Corvisquire and he was about to face Dick Grayson himself, a badge away from Victory Road. By then, Tim and his team were a well-oiled machine (he runs mostly Steel-types lol but also Normal-types for the unexpected adaptability and the 'underestimate my rattata i dare you it's in the top peRCENTAGE--' of it all. FEAR.), and his loss-record had all but frozen while his win-record ticked higher and higher. .

Shit finally goes down about three years after Tim has become Champion and all but bullied Bruce into mentoring him (he basically said 'if you don't watch me, i'll go find Team Rocket/Joker on my own' and triggers all of Bruce's child endangerment traumas simultaneously) and the mysterious Rocket/Joker leader Red Hood shows up, bringing the gang out of the shadows in pursuit of a hidden agenda. Identity shenanigans and "wait is that a Houndoom? But he's only been using Ghost-types, it CAN'T be..." and heel-face turns abound. .

(BONUS FACT: Something something, Jason went into deep cover with Looker or whoever he is, that Interpol guy from X & Y (WAIT. LOOKER MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TALIA AL GHUL IN THIS AU HOHOHO), infiltrating the Rocket/Joker gang and going public as Red Hood is the first step in the last phase of the sting. Cue a million tense Jaytim interactions in which Tim is legitimately trying to take Red Hood down and Jason desperately tries to shake him so that he doesn't do anything that forces Jason to blow his cover. There is at least one 'tugged into a tight space to hide them both from the actual bad guys, "wait, did you just HELP me...?" "Think whatever you want, babybird"' interaction because I am a slut for the first sprinkles of a redemption arc that is rife with UST fufufu)

[medicinemane]

Oof, always feel so damn worn out after that 6+ hour trip, but can't sleep

So I can't do something fun and useful like minecraft, but... can't sleep and move on to tomorrow

[fawnnpaws]

art and patrick taking you to your first rave, handing u a little bright pink pill that you take unquestionably because you trust them blindly. getting lost in the music with them and suddenly their hands are on you, all over while you’re feeling euphoric omgggg i need to stop

no no no keep going 🗣️🗣️🗣️

you don’t question the pill even though you know you probably should, but art and patrick wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. they just want you to have a good time! and ooohhh the body high you start to get is definitely making that happen. it feels like all of your senses are dialed up to 11, the music is rushing through you in a way that makes you feel like you can see the sound waves. the colors of the festival are brighter, so vibrant you can almost taste them. and art and patrick are the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. they’re smiling at you, like they know a secret you don’t, but you don’t even feel the need to ask. your pupils are blown out wide as you look up at the two of them, haloed by the lights around the festival like two angels. then their hands are on you and it’s like your body physically melts into the touch.

patrick is behind you, his chest pressed against your back, and his hands are roaming everywhere. it’s like he has a million of them. you feel him all over somehow, especially when he starts to grind his hips slowly against yours. art is in front of you, facing you, with your hips practically pressed together. his hands roam just like patrick’s. maybe that’s why it feels like there are so many hands on you. you’re not sure where his hands are compared to patrick’s, all you know is that they feel so good. you’re dancing between the two of them, swaying and rolling your hips to the rhythm of the music surrounding you. every touch from the two of them sends shock waves through your body, little parks that feed into the ache you’re starting to feel between your legs. your head falls back on patrick’s shoulder and it’s like they can sense what you’re feeling without you saying anything. maybe you did say something - you’re honestly not sure what your mouth is doing, but it feels like you need to chew on something.

they take you back to your tent - adorably decorated by you earlier in the day because you insisted on making sure it looked nice. you go easily as they lay you down on the plush blankets laid over the air mattress art had the foresight to bring… almost like they’d planned this, what a coincidence. you’re starting to peak now, your body floating in space and so so sensitive. your mouth feels weird and you tell them so. art mentions casually that that’s normal, you just need to suck on something. it’s not entirely his fault that he’s standing right above you when he says it and it’s definitely not his fault that your first reaction is to flick your eyes down to the noticeable bulge in his pants before looking back up at him with those pretty eyes. what was he supposed to do?

as it turns out, art was right. sucking on something does help. the weight of his dick in your mouth, the salty taste of his skin, the delicious smell of him - they all make your head fuzzy and soft. you’re on your tummy between art’s legs and the ache between your own legs is still there, but again, it’s like they know what you need before you even ask. patrick slides up behind you and gently pulls your tiny little rave shorts down, delighted to find nothing under them. “she’s such a cute little slut,” he mutters softly to art.

it’s not long before patrick is sliding his dick inside you. you’re dripping around him and drooling around art, so leaky and wet for your two boys. never in your life did you think two people could make you feel this good, but it’s bliss. your bodies move and melt together, they anticipate your every need. the only thoughts occupying your mind are art, patrick, art, patrick, art, patrick. they adore you like this, so pliant and responsive. it takes every ounce of their willpower not to completely demolish you like they want to - a thought for next time, because the second they saw that dazed, doe-eyed look in you they decided there would be a next time. especially when they realize how easy it is to make you cum like this, how they barely have to move before you’re spasming and tightening your perfect little holes around them. they push and pull orgasm after orgasm out of you, only stopping when they can’t take it anymore and have to cum inside your thrumming body. even then, just the feeling of being filled with their hot sticky cum sends you over the edge one more time.

they hold you after, cooing at you and telling you how well you did for your first time. “our good girl, so fuckin proud of you. took it like a champ. so so good for us.” everything fades into white noise as you nuzzle between the two of them, getting as close as possible. you’re just barely starting to come down. they know you’ll be achy and sore tomorrow, but that won’t stop them from slipping you another pink little pill the next night.

[ohbabydollie]

MORE MUTUAL BREAKUP 🙏🤲🧎‍♀️

i need a break from trying to write smut 😔

moments of u two!!

a lil comp of silly scenarios, dialogue, etc. i think would apply to reader n schlatt

— — — —

a guy who asked to do a podcast interview with you obviously flirting while schlatt is sitting along side the camera man, sucking his teeth and biting his tongue, staying quiet

you ignore the flirting until you notice schlatt is getting jealous by the second and a few more flirty remarks away from punching the guy

so you do the only thing you can think of

“it’s a little cold in here” you say rubbing your arms

“really? i think it’s kinda hot” the guy says taking off his jacket about to hand it to you before schlatt sprints into action

he takes off his hoodie and hands it to you

“thank you honey” you say grabbing it and receiving a small peck from him and putting it on, completing the rest of your interview with the hoodie on, all warm and cozy in schlatt’s jacket

———

you held a volleyball tournament (very similar to the dodgeball tournament)

everyone showing up in shorts and shirts meanwhile you were in your highschool volleyball uniform, fitting you tighter in some places than it used to

everyone sees the way schlatt’s brows raise when you first arrive

everyone noticed schlatt not taking his eyes off your ass whenever you would bend over, go retrieve the ball, receiving and in general doing anything

during breaks he’ll take you into a corner when he thinks a camera can’t see and kiss you, parting with a smile and slapping your ass as you walk off with a dopey grin

———

“my favorite song right now? it’s probably that song from juno” you say smiling “here is the church and here is the steeple”

“we sure are cute for two ugly people” schlatt chimes in

“i don’t see what any one can see in anyone else but youu” you both sing smiling

“she plays it all the time, it’s so annoying” schlatt teases as you stick your tongue out at him

———

schlatt talks about you when asked or if you’re even referenced

“y/n, she is genuinely the best most incredible person i know, the way you see her on camera is the way she is in person, just that she’s softer and sweeter. I am her biggest fan, genuinely, she’s the most perfect person i know and i love being with her, not even just sex, i like being around her as a person, they make me a better person and it’s like every time i have to leave her, i feel empty. a piece of me is filled when im with her. She could ask me to get back with her in five minutes, tomorrow, fifty years in the future, i wouldn’t care, i’d get back with her in a heartbeat”

———

“my gum is out of flavor” you say looking around for a place to throw it out

“hand me it” schlatt says putting his hand out before you spit out the gum softly onto his palm, schlatt wastes no time putting it in his mouth almost immediately after causing you to look at him with wide eyes

“Schlatt! that’s disgusting”

“eh, i’ve had your tongue in my mouth before” he says blowing a bubble

———

“hello?” you ask putting your phone on speaker for the chat

“hey toots”

“oh hey schlatt”

“so, jambo has been cryin, sittin in the spot he always sat down next to you n he jus’ misses you” schlatt says sadly “i was wonderin’ if you could come over n comfort him since he jus wants his mommy” he asks softly

“yeah, i’ll be over in a few” you say before quickly ending your stream and going over to schlatt’s

“oh my poor baby jambo” you say picking up the mewing cat “you missed your mommy, didn’t you” you ask the cat softly, sitting down next to schlatt and giving jambo small kisses

eventually you fall asleep with jambo in your lap and schlatt carries you both to his bed, laying you down gently and he takes a photo

it’s his background for the next few months

———

“you got any sauce for this?” you ask schlatt as you bite into your fries before he goes into his pantry and fetches a new bottle of your favorite sauce

“schlattie” you chirp “you hate this sauce” you say opening up the bottle

“i know, i just had it left from when you lived with me” he lies

“i took the last bottle with me when i moved out” you say downwards smiling “you bought a new bottle for me”

“whatever” he huffs, knowing that you were right, he hated that stupid sauce but found your reaction to him having it adorable

———

“yeah, i’ve always wanted a surprise birthday party, but i’ve never gotten one” you say softly as schlatt makes note of it

a few months later on your birthday, you realize that very few people have said happy birthday, one of the few being schlatt

it’s a lonely day, you spend some of it alone before you get a text from schlatt at 2 pm

cat babydaddy: get ready, i’m picking you up at 5

you happily get ready, showering, shaving, everything

once he arrived he has a large bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and a box of chocolate covered strawberries, smiling at you lovingly

“you look great toots” he says handing you your bouquet and bringing your gifts inside, you thank him with a few kisses before he tells you to hurry so you won’t be late for the reservations he made

you giggle the whole way there, holding his hand as the both of you talk before you notice that he’s going past a bunch of restaurants before he makes you put on a eye mask which you do confused

he leads you out of the car and in through some doors, gently he takes the mask off of you to reveal a beautifully decorated venue

your friends and family jumping out to yell happy birthday at you as you feel yourself tearing up, turning to schlatt with tears of joy

“don’t cry, happy birthday toots” he says wrapping an arm around you and planting a kiss on your lips

lmk if u guys want some more, i gotta feed my mutual break up lovers

[megamindsecretlair]

Sit Back and Unwind

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI., multiple uses of derogatory names and slight daddy kink. You are in charge of your own reading experience! Intentional use of AAVE. Porn without plot. Cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male receiving) derogatory language, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Sorry if I miss any others!

Summary: As you grease Tyrone's scalp, he talks you into giving in to him and your insane chemistry.

Word Count: 1,688k

A/N: I'm going to shut my comp down for the weekend 'cause I am feral and I have nothing to say for myself. Just had an image of greasing that man's scalp and it ran away from me. Also gonna get zooted and watch the movie for the 3rd time so far. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers.

Tyrone sat with his broad shoulders in between your legs as you combed through his hair. The living room was hot and stuffy, even with your windows open and a box fan blowing. The TV played a basketball game because Tyrone didn’t want to watch one of your “wack-ass Lifetime movies”.

You moved his head as you combed through his thick, coarse hair. You parted a section and ran grease through it. Tyrone’s hands began to rub your exposed legs. “Boy stop,” you said and parted another section.

“When you gonna give me a chance?” He asked.

“Don’t bring that shit up right now,” you said and giggled.

“C’mon. I’ll make you feel good.” His hands continued to roam. His hands were rough and calloused like he been workin’ hard. You licked your lips and breathed deeply. Your attraction to this man was insane.

“You know why, Tyrone. You lucky I’m even doing your hair right now.” 

“C’moooon. I told you I ain’t even messing with nobody right now. I want you,” he said. He looked back at you so you could look into his molten brown eyes.

“Yeah? And how many bitches messin’ with you?” You turned his head and continued to grease his scalp. 

“You know I’ll have your legs shakin’ while I’m in them guts. That’s why you don’t want to give me a chance,” he said and sucked his teeth.

“I am not finna play with you!” You laughed. You laughed but you knew he was telling the truth. You heard the stories about Tyrone’s big dick. Hell, you didn’t even need the stories. Just from the way that muthafucka walk, you knew he’d have you speaking in tongues.

But you didn’t need some random little girl blowing up your phone at 3am once word got out that you fucked Tyrone. You were not prepared to throw hands every time you ran up to the hair shop.

“Why not? I’m trynna play with you.” 

You rolled your eyes and continued to part his hair. When you didn’t answer, he leaned forward and half turned on the floor. He looked you up and down, licking his juicy lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said. 

Your nipples pebbled and you knew he probably noticed through your flimsy tank. It was hot for entirely different reasons. He turned more until he was completely facing you. His hands rubbed your thick thighs as he kept eye contact. Your breathing turned shaky. 

“Just let me play with you. You want me to, don’t you?” 

You didn’t protest as his hands went further up. His thumbs pressed into your inner thighs and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. He found some kind of ache because he zeroed in on it, continuing to press it and massage out the knot.

He moved in between your legs, spreading them further. He unbuttoned your shorts and opened them and smirked at your panties. 

“Let me take care of that,” he said.

You leaned forward, intending to push him away. Instead, his lips descended on yours. His warm, wet tongue pressed against yours. As he kissed you, he worked your shorts off. You broke apart just long enough to lean up and get the shorts off your hips. 

He moved your panties to the side and dipped his thumb into your pussy. He hummed low in the back of his throat discovering how wet you were.

“You were just gonna sit here like this and not tell me?” He asked, his lips still pressed against yours. 

“We shouldn’t even be doing this,” you murmured. You were trying to be smart. To say all the right things. But then his thumb started to move, searching for and finding your swollen clit.

“Don’t lie to me. You want this dick. And I want to give it to you,” he said. 

“Tyrone…”

His thumb moved in tight, small circles and you started to moan. Shit. He played you like a fiddle, immediately finding what makes you weak. He moved his lips to your jaw and then to your neck, nibbling.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Stop fightin’ me, girl.” He licked your neck. While one hand rubbed your clit, his other hand grabbed the other side of your neck. “Let me feed you this dick.” 

You moaned and dropped your head back against the couch. Your body convulsed and moved. His body heat was oppressive. 

Your arousal tightened your belly and you cried as you got closer and closer. Your nails dug into his forearms. He stopped his hand.

“Yo, what the fuck?!” 

He tilted his head. “Beg me for that shit,” he said. 

You grunted. “Fuck you, Tyrone!” 

He squeezed your neck and pulled you closer. He stuck his thumb in your mouth and you tasted your juices on his big fingers. You moaned and sucked and he watched you, almost indifferently. His nostrils flared. 

“Look at you. Can’t help yourself. Beg me to cum,” he said.

You were still so close. You didn’t want to lose it. “Please,” you moaned around his finger.

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Please, Tyrone. Please, let me cum,” you said. You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. You didn’t care to hold on to some bullshit morals. You’d deal with the crackheads sprung on his dick. You just wanted to cum. 

He yanked his thumb out of your mouth and returned it to your clit. Your spit mixed with your desire and you returned to moaning. “That’s my girl,” he growled.

“Shit,” you cried and finally came. How did this fucker know? Your legs shook and squeezed his waist as you came. 

“Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty cumming for me,” he said as he watched you.

You panted as you calmed down. Your body was on fire. Sweat trickled down from your temple, under your boobs, and down your back. Somehow it wasn’t enough. You had an ache deep inside that wasn’t satisfied. 

Tyrone stood up and unbuttoned his dickies, pulling it down just far enough to release himself. He stroked his plump dick, squeezing the base and then down to the gleaming tip. 

“Get it wet for me,” he commanded.

You stared at it. Shit. The stories didn’t do him justice. You could see why he had girls cocksprung. 

“Now.” 

You huffed and scooted forward. You took the tip into your mouth. The smooth and salty taste of him had you clenching around nothing. You needed this inside of you. Your panties grew more damp by the second.

You took him as far as you could. His precum leaked out of him and you slurped it up. You brought your hands up to help you please him. You cupped his balls and rolled them. His answering growl made you shiver. You moaned around his dick as you bopped your head up and down.

He slipped his hands into your curly hair and palmed your scalp. He took control and fucked your mouth. Drool ran down your chin and you made all kinds of nasty sounds. “Nah, I’m cumming in that pretty little pussy,” he said. He slipped out of your mouth and gripped his dick.

He pushed you down onto the couch and moved your panties to the side again. He pushed in, stretching you.

“Goddamn,” he sighed as he worked his way in. He stroked in and out with shallow bursts to stretch you further. 

“Oh fuckfuckfuck,” you cried as he worked into you. There was a slight burn and you bit your lip. The pleasure was immense. 

He put all his weight on you and bit your neck. He finally bottomed out and groaned in your ear. You scratched at his back over his tank before pulling it up so that you could get to him. To his skin. He smelled like cocoa butter and sweat. Like a man.

One of his hands spread your legs more so that he could get in there deep. His other hand braced himself on the side of your head. His breath fanned your ear and neck. “Talkin’ all that shit. You ain’t got nothing to say?” 

You shook your head. Your throat was raw from moaning. 

“Yeah, this my pussy, ain’t it?” He hiked your leg higher on his hip and hit a spot deep inside that made you buck.

“There that shit is.” He grinned as he continued to aim for that spot. 

“Shit. I c-can-” You couldn’t speak as black spots winked in and out of your vision. 

“Look at me. Look at me hittin’ this shit,” he said. Your eyes rolled until they found his. Your belly flipped. You clenched around him.

“Do that shit again,” he grunted. His strokes slowed down but became more powerful. He rocked into you so that on every up slide you scooted up the couch. 

You clenched again and he smirked. “That’s right. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” Your voice was small and weak as he continued to hit that G spot. 

“Yeah? Well tell Daddy thank you,” he said.

You huffed. You would’ve told him off if he wasn’t hitting so good. He took this shit seriously. 

“Thank you,” you said and cried out as he hit it a little too hard.

“Uh uh. Tell Daddy thank you.” 

He moved his hand from your thigh down to your neck. “Be a good little ho and tell Daddy thank you,” he demanded. 

He twisted his hips and drove into you. “Thank you Daddy!” You cried as you came all over him.

“That’s it. Squeeze Daddy’s dick,” he said. 

He fucked you through it, the wet slap of his thighs hitting yours. He tightened his grip on your neck as he moaned and busted. Steaming hot ropes of cum shot inside of you. 

And still he fucked you. “This my fuckin’ pussy. Don’t play about that shit no ‘mo.” 

He fucked his cum deeper into you. His strokes slowed down as he kissed your neck, your chest, and bit your nipple through your tank. 

“Next time I wanna see these titties bounce for me.”

[ghostsbaby]

pairings: simon ghost riley x female reader

word count: update on comp

warnings: literally no plot, mostly just a little pussy eating tbh, cnc, somnophilia, female oral receiving

note: wrote this a bit ago with no plot really in mind but it turned into your favourite lieutenant sneaking into your bedroom and im sorry it’s short 🙈🖤

-

Settled at the foot of your bed lies a Ghost.

Fingers creeping up your sleeping body all snuggled under the soft blanket he was about to rip off.

Your bedroom window shouldn’t have been so inviting. The shadows sneaking within as his form crawled through while you slept soundly, not moving an ounce. Too easy.

You looked so beautiful in his view and he was about to ruin it. Not being able to help himself from peeling off your blanket to reveal that pretty pink nightgown that hugged your body.

Lifting lace, his face was met with an already aroused pussy from your exciting dream, lifting the bottom of his mask just above his mouth to get a sweet taste.

Ghost pressed soft hungry kisses to your mound, taking in your scent that filled his nose. God you smelled so divine and you must have been so caught in that dream.

A few soft licks made you whimper in your sleep, causing a growl to escape the lips of the uninvited beast in your bed.

His tongue lapped at your folds, mouth sucking against that beating bud that sent you deeper into the bed as you kept drifting on and off from your slumber. The Ghost at night waking your core as wetness coated the lips of something starving.

Tongue sliding inside your tight cunt like it was home, deeper until his nose was buried between, taking in your arousal drawn from him.

He loved how delicious you were, sweet pussy calling his name over and over like a lucid dream as you lay there so peacefully. The stalking of his eyes over your sleeping body, he knew what was going on in that pretty little head of yours the moment you twitched under his haunting gaze.

You pressed your thighs together like you were trying to hide it in your sleep, playing innocent to the monster inside him. Knew your cunt was speaking to him the way it was leaving a wet spot between those legs for him to take care of.

Ghost couldn’t get enough. Pulling his tongue to glide back up your folds, taking that sensitive bud and feathering his tongue lightly against it.

Your moaning soft and consistent, hands finally roaming to the feel of fabric at the top of his head.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

You gasped, feeling the warmth of his breath against your swollen folds as he spoke, wondering just how long he’s been between your legs. You couldn’t muster a voice to respond, barely even awake despite the movements of your hands and the sounds filling the room.

He knew you woke the moment those delicate hands rushed to his balaclava, waiting for you to tug on it.

“Needy cunt I couldn’t wait.” His lips pressing kisses to your glistening core and admired how pretty it looked under the moonlight that crept in from the open window of your bedroom.

Stars danced above your heads while he brought himself closer, blankets and sheets scattered on the bed as he opened you up to devour more. He came in for one thing only.

“How’d you get in.” Your words shaking.

You still felt in a dream, like this wasn’t really happening. Like your Lieutenant didn’t just break into your room in the middle of the night and start drinking life from your cunt.

“Don’t think I can-“ whimpering making his ears perk.

“What’s that little bird, you wanna sing for me?” devilish smirk rising as your chest falls, breaking into a pant.

“I wanna cum.” your breathing shaky, knot tightening in your stomach when meeting his eyes while his tongue latched down to your pulsing cunt again.

His fingers brushing softly against your clit before one slipped around your aching hole. Pushing the index inside he let out a growl, listening to you purr like a kitten as his one digit became two, pussy stretching with them.

Hands clawed at his shoulder and the sheets of your bed while he brought you to see the stars, slowly starting to fall deeper as his tongue and finger couldn’t part with you until he released that aching spot.

[horizoncollective]

Hey.

You guys find and break into secret stuff all the time, right? I might be in big trouble with my boss if I don't get this sorted out.

So, I might have lost this super-secret prototype stealth frame. Long story short: I put a cloak on the frame, turned it on, went to have lunch, and now I can't find my mech anymore. I really don't want to call back to base (I'd never live it down) and SSC's customer service for these kinds of things sucks. (it's one of their cloaks)

Would you happen to have any ideas to find this frame without running around swinging a stick around until I hit something? It's not like I'm on base right now; currently out doing all-terrain testing, in fact... but there's got to be a better way to find it than checking literally everywhere.

Thanks...

These mech systems are so advanced at hiding from decent electronic equipment (LIDAR and RADAR and all the other acronyms like that just miss 'em) that you need really top of the line searching gear to find them. It ends up that swinging the stick around is actually a really good way of finding shielded stuff, but a paintball gun will have the same effect at greater distance.

You can also wait for rain or snow.

When you find it, you might want to put a comp/con in there that will walk to locations you tell it to come to in case this happens again.

[wosowrites]

Not So Champs (Sam Kerr x Reader)

Warnings: None

A/N: from a request and it’s not my best work so i’m sorry 😭 it’s also a bit short. short but sweet.

Prompt: Reader plays for manchester united and goes to watch her girlfriend, Sam, play vs arsenal in the conti cup final. But when Chelsea loose, reader has to comfort Sam.

The final whistle blew, breaking your heart in half. You watched your girlfriend, Sam Kerr, crouch to the ground, her head hanging low. You pushed your way to the front row, earning looks from people around you. But luckily, they were nice enough not to ask you for anything. Arsenal was celebrating their conti cup win, jumping around, screaming, and the rest of the stadium was giddy, it having been a home game for the gunners. You were sitting with the Chelsea fans who were all looking sad, but we’re still singing and holding up signs, supporting their blues. Chelsea came around, clapping to their fans. All the players had tears in their eyes.

Sam spotted you relatively quickly, smiling at you and walking up to where you were standing. "I’m so proud of you baby." You told her, leaning over the railing and holding her face between your hands. Sam didn’t say anything, not knowing what to answer. She was too sad. Instead, she kisses you, her hand on your back. You were wearing a number 20 chelsea jersey, repping your amazing girlfriend. "I don’t know how we lost. We just eliminated them from the FA," she said sadly, pulling away. "There’s nothing you can do anymore. It’s okay. It happens. Second sucks, I know how it feels, but you could have lost 20-0 and I would have told you how amazing you were." You told her. She hugged you again, fans were now taking pictures and videos, but you couldn’t have cared less.

´

"Come down here. The team wants to see you." Sam whined. "That security guard looks mean, babe. If I go on the field he’ll body check me or something." You said, nodding towards a bearded security guard. Sam laughed, her first smile since the lost. "If he tries anything McCabe will handle it. You’ll want to congratule her." Sam said.

It was true, Katie and you played for ireland together, and you were quite close. But your girlfriend came first.

"Im here for you, Sam. Just for you." You told her, kissing her forehead. "But yes I will go on the field and I probably should congratulate McCard." You teased.

You started climbing over the railing, giggling as the security guard eyed you. "She’s with me." Sam told him who nodded sternly.

You made it onto the pitch, Sam guiding you down with her hands on your hips. She slung her arm over you and ran with you, joining the Chelsea girls. You hugged Magda, who you knew well and knew would feel like crap as the captain. You hugged and said a few things to Jessie Fleming, Niahm Charles, and Guro Reiten.

"Im gonna say GG to Katie," you told Sam, who’s look of defeat had taken over her face again. "I love you." You told her, you knew she would need comforting today, and tomorrow.

You jogged over to Katie who was sipping champagne. "Katie! Hey!" You said to her. "Y/n!" She yelled, smiling wildly. You were grateful to her for not jumping into your arms, or offering you champagne. Katie was a down to earth person, and she was smart. She knew you were rooting for Chelsea. "Good game, you make Ireland proud every day." You told her, giving her a small hug and a pat on the back. "Says you goalscorer! 12 goals in 16 games for Man United!" Katie said. "Not enough though. I’m not signing with them again." You told her sadly. You loved manchester, but you wanted more for yourself. "Good for you. You deserve to win big comps." Katie said.

You smiled at her, but quickly excused yourself to get back to the blues.

You watched from the sideline as Chelsea got their second place medal, and then hung around to see Arsenal lift the trophy. You stayed beside Sam the whole time, holding her when she needed it, kissing her wether she wanted it or not. When the Gunners cheers filled the stadium as Leah Williamson lifted the cup, and as champagne was sprayed on the field, you held Sams head in the crook of your neck, wanting to protect her from the world.

Something Sam did not know, was that Emma had offered you a contract, and she wanted you badly. She was up to anything to get you. So, she offered you a ride back to Cobham, where Sams car was. You had taken a taxi to get here and it had taken a while. And it was expensive, but anything for your girl.

You accepted Emma’s offer, taking advantage of it without telling her that you had already decided to accept the three year offer she was suggesting. You climbed into the bus and sat with Sam, who fell asleep on you immediately. The whole bus was silent, and you matched their energy. Knowing exactly how it felt to loose like this, and knowing it was not your spot to lift up the team right now.

Sam woke up when the bus arrived at Cobham, so did most of the players. You all poured out of the bus, and then into separate cars. You drove, knowing Sam needed a moment.

"Sammy," you said. Sam turned to look at you. "I have something to tell you. And I think it’ll make you happy." You told her, keeping your eyes on the road. "I love you baby, but i don’t think anything will make me happy right now." Sam said. "I’m moving to Chelsea. I’m not resigning with Manchester. Emma’s offered me a starting position, a higher pay check. It’s a three year contract and it’s a great offer." You told her.

Sam was silent for a moment before rolling down the window, and breaking out into a scream. "FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!" She yelled.

It took you by suprise, leaving you silent for a bit. But soon enough, you rolled down your window and copied Sam. "FUCK YEAH!!! IM MOVING TO CHELSEA!!!!" You screamed out the window. "WOOH!!!" "WOOOH!!!!!"

[munchboxart]

Yap session about Ultra Stamp better because 1. I'm sick of the people who throw their Stamp immediately because they don't know how to use it 2. A majority of Stamp users are fucking Wiper players who only play it for Wiper + Torp and never bother using Stamp.

My credibility? I may not be a comp player but I have like 2 million paint total (S2+S3) combined on Sploosh alone, gold Ultra Stamp badge (you need 1.4k wins IIRC), 5 star on Luna Neo and Sploosh and 1k+ wins on Sploosh (S2+S3). It probably isn't a lot but I have a job and a hobby so whatever, but I know damn well it's more experience than the average player with Stamp.

First and foremost, do not use the stampede mode. I know that the stampede mode is what Ultra Stamp is most known for, but do not use it unless your target is either a weapon weak against Stamp (weapons that need to charge, slow attack, slow movement like a heavy weapon in general) or your target is running away from you. Otherwise you have a high likelihood of dying because this special cannot fucking block ink for the life of me. I've died to Rollers who sloshed in front of me and I died from it! Chances of it happening are rare though.

Secondly, activate Stamp if you are close by a person. I know it's hard to get close to a person but luckily enough, a lot of Ultra Stamps weapons are short ranged, so (hopefully) you should be familiar with the idea of sticking to walls, small spaces, corners, etc. A really easy way to distract someone is by throwing a bomb (Curling, Fizzy, any projectile) from another direction and just running at them (doesn't always work but keeps their mind busy on trying to predict movements). How do you know if you're close enough? Basically within stamping distance. If it takes a stampede to reach them, don't do it because they'll hear the activation sound and run away.

Lastly, learn how and when to cancel stampede. This is probably the hardest thing to get into the habit of, especially when you head towards Booyah and Splashdown with it (hell I still struggle with it against those specials). But this is probably the thing that will unlock Stamps full potential. Most of the time when you'll need to do this is when your target has either gone out of your reach, has swam behind you OR climbed a ledge, and in which you need to either throw your Stamp at them, stop and swing around OR take the risk and run after.

Bonus: if you hold your Stamp to throw the same amount of time the delay takes when you throw your Stamp, it'll throw instantaneously. This isn't really that useful and honestly sucks (leaves you vulnerable), but one day I will juke someone with this, mark my words.

Bonus 2: Stop throwing your Stamp when you activate it, good god! It leaves you in a more vulnerable position and the damage isn't even that good (unless you direct, of course). You get a lot more mileage out of it when you actually use the Special (throwing it after Stamp's 8(?) second duration is the best). Also 9 times out of 10 you'll miss anyways, especially if you throw it AT the person instead. You have a better chance throwing it at their direction (like overshooting, if that makes sense), than AT them.

Here's an illustration of what I mean:

I'm writing this with a 2 a.m. brain so forgive me if this isn't coherent, I already know it sounds overly aggressive, sorry about that.

Ultra Stamp requires a lot of practice, skill and patience to learn but once you learn it, it's really rewarding. It's a risk vs reward special that heavily leans towards risk but you'll start seeing paths you can take once you learn it. Like Tanjiro with seeing the opportunity thread or whatever when he kills demons

[lesbiansanemi]

Ermmm, life updates while im here I guess? Going through psychiatry stuff again. New therapist, they switched my meds, am genuinely considering some sort of personality disorder now. Also have been battling my job with worker’s comp due to injuries and chronic pain it’s caused and have an appointment this week to go over work restrictions. Depending on what they are and if they’re “too difficult to work with” my job will end up putting me on short term disability and I’ll be going on a leave. My great grandma died and this weekend I had to go down for the funeral which sucked (we weren’t close, but I was the first time seeing a lot of family in 5-6 years also my first time sitting through a sermon in just as long which made me feel….. not great, won’t get into that here haha). But! My gf and another friend are visiting in less than two weeks. Have plans to make pot pie and ginger cake with another friend this Thursday. I’m enjoying my kill la kill rewatch. I think those are the main things lol

[fawnim]

literally got sent this the other day

yet here i am still drawing her probably way better than u, anon !! :D im thinking the reason why i got this message is bc i mainly draw fem-presenting azira which is so weird bc everyone and their mothers draw crowley as femme and no one bats an eye 🧍‍♀️ (not that its a comp !) me drawing azira as fem-presenting, in clothes and situations that i find tasteful, is no different. and if u find anything disturbing with my still growing collection of fem-presenting azira fanart, then maybe you're the weirdo.

i got discouraged from creating fanart for a short while, but aziraphale is just too pretty for me to not draw so u can suck on whatever i have down there and ill keep on drawing her the way i see her from my eyes: pretty, sassy, and way better than u. <3

[anti-workshop]

SHAKY HANDS STICKER CLUB

Hey friends! I alluded to a big thing coming and THIS IS IT!

Patreon sucks ass but it's sort of the name of the game for fundraising things, and we need to raise funds, so here we are!

Do you like stickers? Do you like buttons? Do you like queer leftist shit as well as unique pieces of art you can adhere to the world or wear on your person? Please join our sticker club! You get stickers every month and maybe button/s if you want!

Check it out here -> STICKER CLUB

Also! More short designs will be coming soon! So stay tuned!

Read more below if you wanna know why we're doing this. Warning, it's long and sort of sad.

We started screen printing from one of our basements in 2020. It was, needless to say, the worst possible time to try and start a business. We barely survived and were able to move into the basement of the Milwaukee IWW's new union hall so we could all split the rent and make it affordable.

That was back in 2021. We were still struggling, but through word of mouth we got jobs and kept the lights on. We weren't really able to pay ourselves, but we all had second or third jobs so it was (mostly) fine.

We printed from that basement for about a year (and I hit my head on the ceiling and doorways hundreds of times) when a fellow wobbly and co-op enthusiast invited us to join his co-op as a DBA (doing business as). He sold us on the idea by offering to subsidize our workers' comp, general liability and book keeping expenses so we could try and grow sustainably. After some meetings we agreed to join as a DBA and we put our faith in this fellow worker whose intentions seemed pure and generous. We'll call him G.

Throughout the co-op's history some of our worker-owners' personal lives have been pretty chaotic. Working multiple jobs is stressful enough as a lot of you know, and so is navigating the continued stress of covid, having kids who are dealing with being bullied for being trans, all of us having major depression, adhd, etc. etc. We relied on each other, kept the lights on and just forged ahead, but there were some jobs that we delivered late or very late because of the chaos. G was understandably frustrated by these setbacks, as was I.

Because of the chaos, for about 5 months I was literally the only person working at the shop, performing literally every task from emails to quotes and mockups to invoices to pre-press, press, post-press and fulfillment. The Goncahrov shirts y'all purchased literally paid our rent, and I cannot thank you enough for that.

Then a fellow worker we'll call Z joined the co-op and saved my life. Z is amazing and I love him and owe him so much. He and I just kept at it and did what we could to care for our fellow workers who were struggling while away from the shop.

For about a year we've been trying to get an equipment loan to improve our processes because our little 4-color press and our flash and conveyor dryers suck ass. They're functional, extremely difficult to use, and they make our final product inconsistent and screen printing is a nightmare on them. It was all we could afford so we made the best of it and pursued a loan from a really cool cooperative lender that lends to other co-ops.

After a year of paperwork, making reports of our revenue and costs, analyzing our processes to improve them and show we were a viable business, they finally granted us the loan! We got a new press, better dryer, more screens and an incredible water-based digital printer/plotter combo that allows us to do stickers and decals and banners and buttons and other cool shit like that.

While we were applying for the loan, we were also pursuing a Collective Bargaining Agreement with the PPPWU (formerly the GCC) because we would be the only worker-owned co-op in our region (and maybe the US) to have the allied label, the most coveted union bug for printing. The local president was amazing to work with and we finally got awarded our union label and started paying dues.

It was around the time we began seeking the loan that G was doing and saying things we were a little confused by. He unilaterally fired two worker-owners in his co-op after months of mediation on my part to try and address interpersonal conflict. It's my fault for not seeing the writing on the wall then, but because he had done so much to help us, we justified his actions to look past our concerns.

Then, when those workers were gone he started to get abusive in text threads towards me and the other print folks, and we still looked past it because he had a lot going on in his life and that kind of stress can bring out the worst in anyone.

Well, a few weeks ago it came to our attention that we don't own our print co-op anymore, and we functionally stopped owning it once we signed on as a DBA. We thought we were all worker owners, but it turns out only I am, because I paid in at the time when I had the money. The abuse has escalated to the point that Z has quit, leaving only me the original creator the our co-op who we'll call M.

We're sort of trapped now. We're on the hook for rent at the shop until 2025, as well as the payments for our $30k loan, in a business that's been swept out from under us by someone we trusted who has become toxic and plainly cruel in his treatment of us.

Despite the stress and never really paying ourselves, I've enjoyed learning water-based screen printing and making garments people actually wear! It's been amazing! As the anti-workshop, we've been able to fund programs for our local IWW, the local tenants union and the local pro-palestine, anti-war committee. That has felt so good.

We've made our space an extremely queer, worker-focused spot for folks to learn the ins and outs of design and printing, which I am so proud of.

We're still here. We're still printing. We need to raise the funds to buy our equipment back by paying off this loan, so we can stop being a DBA of G's co-op and be our own entity again.

Failing that, we'll see what happens.

[manonamora-if]

i dont know if u feel up for it to answer but like... how do u handle negative comments and ratings and just people being negative about ur stuff? bc i have someone just being rude in comments or like notes and game folders on itch and its making me want to just delete everything and never show anyone anything anymore. or even have an acocunt on itch either.

Hi Anon,

I'm sorry you've been dealing with this, and that it took me so long to answer. I've been thinking about this for a while honestly. I've been writing a bunch of drafts for this one, because my answer seems to change with the day or my mood. Some of my stuff have had some strange interactions lately that's made me question whether I should stay on itch myself. I mean, I don't think I'll ever leave... there are too many fun jams I want to participate and, you know, to force people to play my weird stuff. But I've been more anxious about new stuff or updates I share recently.

I don't blame you for wanting an out. Some users will poison one's experience of a platform, that even opening the site would give them anxiety. It doesn't take much to have events or projects soured. Often, just a few rude words is enough to make accounts disappear without a word. And many platform don't have good safety nets (blocking, moderation, reports) to temper or avoid these situations. Many will have half-ass solutions that, at the end of the day, still allows interactions from blocked users. It's easy to wonder if all of this is worth it...

Anyway, the very boring and short answer to your question: it depends.

The probably as boring and long one is a bit of a ramble:

It depends on the day, or the mood I have. It's easier to deal with comments when I'm confident and things are going find; but I'd feel more hurt or have a harder time dealing with them when I'm a bit more morose (I think most people feel this way). I'll disregard any (even barely) negative points some days, only to take it into consideration a few days later. <- this especially during jam/comps time, just need time to digest criticism of any kind.

It also depends on the content of the comment, their tone, and intent of the commenter. Not all negative comments are on the same level. I've had negative comments in the past where the commenter was genuine, and really gave my stuff a shot, bringing interesting points or important concerns. And though it hurt a bit, because being told you made a mistake sucks, those helped me grow. But those are the good kinds of comments...

On the other hand, I try to disregard the trolls, and the abusive comments (towards my work or me), the ones where the engagement was clearly not done in good faith... you know, the ones who will literally tell me I've made the world worse by uploading my games on itch. Doesn't mean that it doesn't affect me at all*. Some of them really hurt or made me angry and frustrated, some have lingered for hours or days in my mind, a few made me close to delete stuff as well. Words are not just empty things without meaning... *I've had to block a few people both here and other places recently because of it, they had become so insistent on wanting to engage with me while bashing most of my work, my values or the few aspects of my identity that I've shared online.

It would be easy to say I just don't give them the time of day or any of my energy, or that I pretend they don't exist, because, if I do, then the trolls win. But that would be lying. Obviously.

Screaming to the void/a pillow or ranting to friends have helped get rid of my anger and frustration. I've laughed with others about some comments I got (usually the bad faith ones, some of them are funny in how sad/bad they were). I think what worked best for me was just turn off the computer and go outside for a bit. Or turned off the internet and play silly games on my phone. Or picked up a book. Or watch a movie. Essentially, any activity that would distract me from it and force me to take a break. And when none of this worked, because some trolls are just that insistent, blocking/deleting stuff*. *unfortunately, it's not always possible, see second paragraph again.

It does suck that you're kinda forced to grow a thicker skin to enjoy or even exist in those spaces, and I wish those would be friendlier... but I don't think social platforms/the internet is going in that direction anytime soon.

Maybe not super helpful to your decision, but borogove.io hosts IF games (without ratings or comments, though people can download the files), so does the IFDB through the IFArchive (but there are ratings/reviews there, also can be downloadable). I've seen other peeps host their stuff on neocities (no ratings/comments). None of those platforms are like itch, in the positives or the negative. Or just be old school, and email stuff.

[just-call-mefr1es]

i finally got this pride special done akdmekdmsm>_<

u can enjoy this as it is, but just incase anyone’s up for a read, my journey with gender and how it ripped my soul out is under the cut 😋

so, at a kinda young age, i knew that i liked to be feminine, but i knew that i never really wanted to be a girl, if that made sense. id call myself a girl, and sometimes itd feel right, sometimes it wouldnt, but i never payed attention to why. i would wear dresses n be feminine and cutesy stuff but something felt weird whenever a relative said i was such a beautiful girl. i was eight.

then boom, pandemic happened. i personally think the pandemic was a gay awakening for a lot of people, since we all had to stay home and got access to the internet and shit. by then, i figured i was a lesbian, and went with that for a while. girls were pretty, and lil 2020 me wanted to kiss one (i did actually and didnt like it but thsts for another post). i vibed like that for a while; i had a couple of older friends (just by a year nothing much) who were also gay so i thank most of the first things i learned abt lgbt on them.

but, this aijt anout that, this is about gender. so, it was the summer of ‘21, and i was like- ‘hold on a stinkin minute.’ theh had my first ever real gender crisis💗 awh how time flies😽 anygays, i had a meltdown over that, and then came to the conclusion that i was non binary, sicne being a girl was so not me, and i shitting loved how it felt calling myself non binary! adn to add, part of me died a little whenever someone used she/her pronouns for me so i went with they/them; i was so scared of being misgendered back then:(

then, the internet started taking over and i got my grubby lil hands on gaytok (i just watched comps on yt bcus i didnt have tiktok) which was a blessing and a mistake at the same time. watching people like me just be themselves unapologetically was such a moment for me, and i was overjoyed. but unfortunately, some of the not so great caught up.

i saw a shiton of stereotypes abt what each person SHOULD feel, act, dress etc based on their sexuality and gender orientation. i, unfortunately got sucked into the ‘non-binary people have short fluffy hair and hoodies and frogs’ and me, being the dumbass i was, just tagged along with it. at first i thought it was cool, and i still do dont get me wrong! non binary with short fluffy hair who wears hoodies and frogs all day are swagger! my mistake was thinking that all non binary people were like that. and ‘all’ included me.

i thought that if i just had everything that nonbinary people were ‘supposed’ to have, then id finally be happy with my gender and could stop playing this stupid game, and it was like that for a while. 2022 me actually really vibed with that, though! i stocked up on all the oversized hoodies i could scour, stuffed all my hair in a beanie when i cojld and just tried to hide any feminine aspect as fucking much as i could. and it sorta kinda worked! this one time when i was in soccer, this kid asked me what gender i was cause he coukdnt tell and i just💥

that was kinda the end of that tho. 2023 was a school year with ups and downs lmao. i had to leave my kids behind; it was a whole thing. from what i can recall this was rhe year when i started to really get questioning. did i do anything tho? nah. i kept my title as non-binary and moved on, ignoring the confusion that welled up in my gut. by then, it was really hard for me to actually question my gender full-on because it made me super nervous.

some more time later, i finally start sucking it up and taking a good look at what the hell i was feeling. sometimes, i didnt feel like ripping my hair out and chokijg myself slowly whenever someone used she/her pronouns for me, but i still did feel like it sometimes- it confused the hell outta me. i kept thinking on, but made sure i didnt press on it too much because someone finally learned about taking their damn time !! good job me, one thing you can do right that isnt art /sarc

i kept my non binary title for a lil while more as i fugured things out befor my mind said ‘fuck it we ball’ and i just rid the thought entirely. i had a good time existing being unlabled with my gender, but it still felt weird inside. i tried out trans demiboy for a good second, before scrapping that idea as well. i looked into myself a lil more and realized that: hey, being feminine is fun!

all that time from 2020-23 i was deadset and focused on being as far away from being perceived as feminine for a while, from fear of bein misgendered. i had totally missed out how fun doing your hair is, and twirling sround in dresses and just being feminine was. so, i did that. im pretty sure i went back to my non binary title for a bit (this time being smart and taking into account that stereotypes were stupid as fuck) and continued on with being casual wit femininity.

then my head hit the wall- no.. gender? my head hit the gender and on one faithful day it hit me: genderfluid. i might be genderfluid. i thought about it for a while, trying to see how it would feel and oh my holy shit- it fit perfectly. i literally almost cried fr.

no, because i felt like ive been punched in the gut but in a good way- this is it! i finally figured it out!!! i always wanted to have one or the other, and no way i was ginna switch my identity every five seconds; genderfluid was a title that made me feel better. with how i present myself, with how i feel, with how i everything!

and- i shitting loved how free it felt, when i could proudly say im genderfluid. because its literalky me! im fluid with my gender! some days, i dont mind being called a girl- some days i even love it!! but other times its just not for me, and i when i realize that i can just feel like that without feeling like some sort of fraud, i just get all giddy its wonderful>_<

and thats it i guess. my story. huh. im not sure if there should be a moral, but i feel bad if i dont give something to the people, so,, never be afraid to figure out yourself. take your time, and who knows where you’ll end up? who knows, it might be somewhere you might have never thought about.

[whump-me]

Protector: Chapter 20

Chapter 20 of Protector, a novella-length whump story about a ruthless superpowered assassin trained from childhood to kill, and the brother determined to save him from himself.

Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the complete novel on Patreon

---

Every step felt to Zach like reaching the summit of a mountain only to look up and see an even higher peak ahead. Every knobbly root and slick patch of leaves was a deadly obstacle, capable of sending him tumbling to the ground with a single misstep. He focused all his energy on staying upright, always remaining within grabbing distance of a trunk or a low-hanging branch. If he fell, he knew he would never get up again.

His vision wobbled. He blinked until it cleared. A gasping breath gave him just enough oxygen for another step. He caught himself against a sapling that swayed precariously under his weight. He glanced toward his best approximation of where Loren was waiting, and shifted a little to the side to break the other man’s line of sight. The slight movement jolted his wounds, old and new. He let out a soft groan.

Then he took his next step, and began the whole process over again.

Bryce’s blood, soaking through his pants and splattered across his arms, was rapidly cooling in the chill breeze. Was this the last he would ever see of his brother—these speckles of red painting his own flesh? For all he knew, Bryce would die before Zach found his way back to him. For all he knew, Bryce had been dead the second he had fallen across Zach.

Zach wanted to believe he had heard a single gasp of breath from Bryce, that Bryce’s hand had twitched against his. He didn’t know if that was just wishful thinking.

But Teddy and Sonia had taken Bryce away. If there was a chance for him to be saved, they would save him. That was why, when they had turned back like they were thinking of coming back for Zach, he had urged them to go. Maybe that meant some part of him genuinely believed there was still hope for his brother.

Maybe it meant he didn’t think there was any such hope left for him.

He took another step. Wobbled. Caught himself against the rough bark of an oak. It scraped his left hand raw, leaving a line of pink across the meat of his thumb. He pressed his forehead into the mossy trunk and tried to breathe.

If he had still been twelve years old—if he had still been who Bryce thought he was—he would have collapsed here and now. But whether or not he could complete his mission, he was—for better or worse—what PERI had made him. And PERI had taught him how to push through anything short of death.

He let go of the tree and prepared to take his next step. He looked up—

And there was Loren, far in the distance. Zach couldn’t see much. Just the glint of the sun off a lock of dark hair. The elegant curve of his hand. The cold glint of his rifle.

But Zach would know his guardian angel anywhere.

He realized, a second later, that if he could see Loren, Loren could see him. And that he had frozen in place long enough for Loren to take his shot.

But the shot didn’t come.

Zach waited another moment, staring out at that distant tree, imagining Loren staring back. Then he sucked in a breath and took that next step.

And the next. And the next.

He didn’t try to stay out of Loren’s sightline anymore. And Loren didn’t shoot.

At last, Zach stood at the bottom of the tree. It was grizzled and ancient, its bark gray and lightning-scarred. Up in its branches were several wide notches where a person could sit in relative comfort. Maybe with a picnic lunch. Maybe with a rifle.

Loren sat in one of them. The rifle rested across his lap.

When their eyes met, electricity arced between them, strong enough that Zach was surprised it didn’t split the tree in two. Energy zinged through his nerves, erasing his exhaustion, even sending the pain briefly into the background. It felt a little like the day they had first kissed. It felt a little like mortal terror.

Loren spoke first. “You didn’t complete the mission.”

“I couldn’t,” Zach admitted. He didn’t look away. He had nothing to hide from Loren. Not anymore.

Loren shook his head like he was trying to dislodge Zach’s words from his ears. “Don’t say that,” he said. “Don’t go there. You can still do this.”

“It’s too late. Bryce is dead.” Zach tried to squash that small bit of hope that said maybe his brother still had a chance. It was better to accept that he was gone. After all, he had practice. He had already been forced to let his brother go once before.

Loren stared into his eyes for a long moment, as if he thought maybe Zach knew something he didn’t. As if he suspected Bryce wasn’t dead after all. But all he said was, “I did the hard part for you. The rest should be simple. You see? It’s not too late.”

“What you mean,” said Zach, “is that you killed my brother.”

He thought he should probably hate Loren for that. Hadn’t he hated PERI, all those years ago, for separating him from his family? He was sure Bryce had hated them for taking Zach away.

But when he looked into Loren’s eyes, he didn’t know how to feel anything but love. He was quite possibly the only one who knew what there was to love about Loren, who had seen the treasures hidden underneath his hard shell. There were times he thought he loved the armor almost as much as he loved the man underneath—when he felt Loren’s strong arms around him, when he watched Loren’s expert hands line up a perfect shot. There were times he thought there was no way to separate the two sides of him. They were both Loren. They were both who PERI had made him.

He knew Loren. He knew who he was.

Of course Loren had continued the mission. The man Zach knew would never have done anything else.

How could Zach hate him for being who he was? How could he hate him for being the man he had fallen in love with?

And besides that, he had done it for Zach. To spare Zach the pain of taking the shot, of spilling his brother’s blood with his own hands. He could have shot Zach instead—should have, according to his mission. He hadn’t. He had chosen to do what he thought would help Zach instead.

Whereas Zach had let Loren down. He had promised he could do this, and then he had failed. And now, despite all Loren had done to try to avoid it, Loren would have to kill him.

Maybe Zach shouldn’t have felt guilty about putting Loren in that position through his own failure. But the one cliche about love that had proven true was that nothing about it made sense.

“Are you going to complete your mission now?” He kept looking Loren in the eye as he said. He didn’t flinch away. His voice was steady.

It wasn’t that he felt no fear. He suspected he had no blood in his veins anymore, only pure distilled terror, cold as ice water. But he also felt at peace. The storm in his mind had gone quiet. He had made his choice, and now he would suffer the consequences.

Loren’s rifle didn’t move from his lap. “Why didn’t you do what you knew you had to do?”

“You mean, why didn’t I kill my brother?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Because I couldn’t,” Zach said again. “I told you that.”

“But why?” Loren pressed. His hands tightened around the rifle, like he was wringing its neck.

Zach took a labored breath as he thought. “Because when Bryce knew me, I was weak and pathetic,” he finally said. “Worthless. But when I disappeared, he kept looking for me anyway. And when he finally found me, I wasn’t the brother he had expected. I wasn’t the one he wanted. He was looking for the kid he had known, and he found a PERI operative instead. But even though I wasn’t the person he had been searching for all that time, he still didn’t give up on me.”

Privately, Zach hoped that last part was true. That what he had seen in Bryce was acceptance, and not denial. That Bryce really could accept that he wasn’t that kid anymore.

Then he remembered that there was no point in hoping, because Bryce was almost certainly dead.

Loren shifted. Zach tensed, expecting the rifle to come up. He forced a slow breath into his lungs, then out again. He tried to recapture his peace from a moment ago.

He had done what he had to do. Now Loren would do the same.

He closed his eyes.

A small, traitorous whimper escaped his lips.

He didn’t want to die.

And if he had to die, why did Loren have to be the one to kill him?

A soft thump made his eyes fly open. Loren stood in front of him, rifle on the ground between them. He had jumped down from the tree, elegantly enough to land on his feet.

He had dropped his weapon.

Loren never dropped his weapon.

“I wanted to ask you face to face.” Loren never let his armor drop, never let his mask slip, but Zach could have sworn he heard a tiny tremor in the man’s voice. “Please. Complete the mission. Come back to PERI. Come back to me.”

“I never left you,” said Zach. “I’m with you no matter what. I love you no matter what. That’s what Bryce said to me, and I think I understand now.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘no matter what.’” Loren looked down at his wrists, at the burn scar there that he had never explained to Zach—one of many scattered across his body. “I used to believe there would be someone there to love me whatever I did, and no matter how long I was gone. I learned.”

“What did you learn? That you were alone?” Zach held out a tentative hand to him. “You’re not alone.”

Loren looked at his hand, but didn’t take it. “I learned that it’s better to have value than to count on someone’s love to save you. It’s safer.”

“Will you love me,” Zach said, “if I don’t complete this mission? If I…” His voice failed him for a second, because saying these words felt like stepping off a cliff into a world he no longer knew. “If I can’t be a PERI operative anymore?”

Loren didn’t answer right away. Zach watched his gaze turn inward, watched him think about the question. It felt like a knife to the heart, that Loren had to think about it.

“I love you,” Loren said, his voice breaking in a way Zach had never heard from him before.

It wasn’t an answer.

That was how Zach knew Loren had made his decision.

Zach wanted, more than anything, to say the words back. He wanted to say he would love Loren whether or not either of them worked for PERI, whether or not either of them had value to anyone else, because he understood what Bryce had been trying to tell him the other day after all.

He wanted to. But there was no time.

Instead, he closed his eyes. He called on his years of training, and slipped into the skin of the cold-hearted assassin PERI had made him into. It was a blessing, he thought, that he no longer remembered how to be anything else.

He thought about Bryce, who might still be alive. He thought about protecting his brother the way his brother had always protected him. And protecting Bryce’s friends the way Bryce would have wanted, since Bryce was no longer in any shape to do it himself.

And he thought about protecting himself. Because he didn’t need Bryce for that anymore. PERI had taught him well.

He opened his eyes.

And as Loren reached for his hunting knife, Zach raised the pistol Loren had given him, and he shot Loren between the eyes.

---

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