#it still wasn’t totally ready when it was released… in october!

[lulu2992]

Thank you for humoring all my asks about Collapse and Faith! When I said it was sad, I was more thinking of how it's sad they were having to resort to the bare minimum (likely under heavy crunch) to write scripts for 3 DLCs at once and the possibilities of what they could have done with more time and resources. Now back to Faith, I can understand the 'feminine presence' argument, though I still feel he ultimately viewed Rachel at least as more of a daughter for a variety of reasons. 1/?

My issue, I guess, lies more with the idea that Joseph was trying to outright replicate his late wife using the Faith role (and all the creepiness that would come with that). Not simply trying to bring a positive feminine presence to the family, but specifically viewing Faith as a way of 'getting his wife back', so to speak. Like I tried to take a neutral view to at least entertain the idea, but it just ultimately doesn't match up with my views of what we saw in FC5. 2/2

Oh yes, I agree and think it was sad for the reasons you mention too! Aside from the problems with the story of its Season Pass, Far Cry 6 also happens to be the glitchiest Far Cry I’ve ever played. Unfortunately, we know the dev team had to work under unusual and quite difficult conditions (from home during a pandemic) so, yes, it’s sad and I feel sorry for them. I really wonder what would have been different if they had been given all the time and resources they needed.

And I agree with you about Faith too. What they did in Collapse matched neither the opinion I had after playing Far Cry 5 and reading interviews nor the information I gathered when I listened to the sound files and asked questions to the narrative director…

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 1st

Pegging, Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.2k.

Warnings: Pegging; established relationship; praise kink; anal fingering (m receiving); anal sex (m receiving); fellatio; use of sex toys; sub!Copia; soft dom!Reader (but you’re still a little mean to him); gender neutral!reader (but reader does have a vulva); mild humiliation kink; hella fluffy because Copia deserves the world; premature ejaculation; overstimulation; tears; happy ending.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It didn’t take much to get him all worked up. Depending on the kind of day he’d had, it could just even be a look that got Copia ready and waiting for you to do whatever you wanted. He was an easy mother fucker, especially for the right mother - or rather - person.

Which is how he ended up spread-eagle on his bed, one of his pillows in his mouth as your fingers went deep inside his tight hole. His cock was rock hard and bounced a little every time you touched a sensitive spot and made his hips buck. Although his eyes remained tightly closed and that was something you couldn’t abide by. Not only was he keeping his desperate whimpers to a minimum, he refused to let you see the needy look on his face. You tutted and removed your fingers from him.

Immediately, his lids opened in terror and his gaze snapped to you. “No! Per favore! Don’t stop, ti scongiuro!” In his need, he sat up and began peppering kisses all over your face. “Amore mio, per favore non fermarti. I need more, please.”

“But your eyes were closed, baby.” You responded, your tone somewhat condescending especially for a man twice your age. “You were quiet. I didn’t think you were enjoying it.”

His kisses became more ferocious but his hands were clinging onto your neck. “Non è vero! It’s not true. I love it. Ti amo. Please, dolcezza. Please give me more.” This was so far from the Papa you’d grown to know - this was exactly how the Cardinal acted. Touch starved and desperate. Yet here was the head of the Satanic Church fumbling his words and begging for release.

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. While he was still sat up a little, you moved your hand sneakily towards his hole and began rubbing over it once more. This earned you a loud yet surprised moan. With a little extra lube, you slid a third finger in and felt one of his hands clasp your forearm. He wasn’t whimpering as much, but he was breathing heavily, as though he were trying to stave off an impending orgasm.

Taunting your Papa was the most fun thing to do, especially when he was all spread out in front of you at your complete and total mercy. He didn’t expect anything from you, especially when you were knuckle deep inside of him. So when you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cock from base to tip, he screamed and bucked again. “Merda.” He whined. “What are you try-trying to do to your Papa? Do you want to kill me, dolcezza?”

You chuckled a small, evil laugh before responding. “Of course not, Papa. But when you look so deliciously tempting, I can’t help myself.” Finding that spot inside of him now that you had three fingers working at him was easy. Combine that with what your mouth was doing and he was convinced he was going to have a heart attack. Your mouth, now quiet had taken the entire head of his cock into your mouth, and was gently sucking on it.

“Amore mio, if you keep doing this Papa will not last.”

You removed your lips from him and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You don’t want to cum?”

“I do!”

“In my mouth?”

He shook his head so you stopped moving your fingers. “NO!” He replied when he realised what you were doing. You continued your ministrations, rewarding him for his words.

“On my fingers?”

“No, dolcezza, please.”

“Well, where would you like to cum, Papa?” Calling him Papa while he was submitting to you felt criminal. Papa was for the strongest of leaders, Papa was for the leaders who bent others into submission. Papa wasn’t for the shy, clumsy and awkward men who willingly spread themselves for their partners. But here yours was - ready, willing, waiting, and humiliated beyond satisfaction.

“Non farmi dire questo.” His hands now were covering his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t make you feel good if you don’t tell me where you want to cum.”

He muffled something only his hands caught. So you gently prized them apart gently with your free hand to see his bright red face, and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. “Tell me, my love. Where do you want to cum?”

He took in a deep breath. “On your cock!” He exclaimed quickly.

“Good boy.” Your praise affected him more than he would like to say, but his hole clenched around your fingers as it registered in his brain. “Do you think you’re ready for it?”

“Sì.”

You kissed his lips softly before pulling your fingers out of him. He whined into your mouth at the lost of you, and as you tried to break the kiss he kept following you. He was clingier than usual. “I won’t go far, precious. I promise.” You said when your lips were finally free.

He chased you to the edge of the bed and watched you strap yourself into the harness. His hands were aching to get hold of you again, but knew he needed to be patient for you. You went to the bedside drawer and pulled out one of the dildos you’d both selected online months prior, and his eyes were completely fixated on it as you attached it to the harness. It wasn’t overwhelmingly big, but big enough that it would stretch him out more than your fingers would.

Knowing how clingy he was feeling, you went straight back to him and immediately wrapped him in your arms, his head falling on your chest. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he took in your scent. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Do you think you can lube it up for me?” He nodded and leaned across to the bedside table to grab the lube and poured some onto the toy. “Make sure you get it nice and wet for me, yeah?”

He nodded again. Both of you were transfixed by his hand touching the dildo, wrapping around it and spreading the lube up and down as though he were stroking a real cock. You were both silent as you listened to the squelching of the liquid in between his hands as he rubbed, losing his mind to the thought of it finally entering him. As soon as he thought it was ready, he nodded and lay back eagerly. His legs spread once again, and you watched him deposit the leftover lubricant into his waiting and stretched hole. You waited until his hand was removed before you climbed over him.

You kissed his sensitive neck, and travelled all the way up to his mouth, where you gave him a deep and gentle kiss - another touch that made him whimper. He bucked up one final time, and groaned at the feeling of his cock rubbing against yours.

“I’m ready, amore mio. Per favore. I need it.”

You lined yourself up with his waiting hole. “Tell me when you need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

As you breached his walls, his mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. You were slow with your movements, almost maddeningly so, and his hands flew to your biceps and gripped tightly. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, a lot more loudly than he intended.

You stopped. “Are you okay?”

He could barely breathe. “It feels incredible.” He propped himself up enough to reach your cheeks and began kissing you again. “More. More, please.”

You obliged and continued to push into him until the dildo was all the way inside him. He kept kissing you as you paused, waiting for him to get accustomed to the feeling. He, on the other hand, had different ideas. As he was kissing you, he also began to slowly rock up and down, feeling your cock move inside of him. “I take it you want me to move, hm?”

“Please!” He begged.

And so, you did. Gently at first so you didn’t hurt him, but as his moans became louder, you understood he was ready for a bit more handling. So, your thrusts got faster and faster.

Until you watched him spasm beneath you, his breath knocked out of him and his mouth wide open. You looked between you to where you were connected, and watched as the remains of his seed spilled out of him. Much faster than both of you had hoped, but he was so worked up you were surprised he lasted that long.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated that over and over again, tears forming in his eyes from his overwhelming emotions.

You were still inside him. “Can you give me one more, Copia?”

He seemed shocked at the sudden use of his name. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, amore mio. I can give you one more.”

“Good boy.”

He keened at your praise but hissed when you pulled out. You were gentle, tentative, but you wanted to wreck him a little more. So, when you were sure he could take it, you didn’t hold back.

His grip on your arm returned but this time much harder, fingernails digging in and holding on for dear life. Your thrusts were almost brutal, but you knew he was living for it. Each one punctuated with his sounds - whether they were outright overstimulated screams, chokes, or even the sound of his hole sucking the toy back in. He was practically singing. Your moans would occasionally join the cacophony of sounds, not because you were feeling particularly good, but because you knew he appreciated them.

You stopped once more to pull out and hear his groans of disappointment. “I want you to ride me,” you told him, “let me see you take my cock.”

Copia gulped but nodded. He had never allowed himself to be so exposed before, and he certainly had never been the top in this position. He felt himself getting shy again, and if it wasn’t you he wouldn’t even attempt it. With a hiss, he climbed onto you and lowered himself down. His cock was red and angry, and dried cum stained his stomach from his first orgasm and had been forgotten about until just then. He looked positively sinful, sweaty and blushing red.

In order to help him find a rhythm, you held onto his hands and pinned your elbows to the bed, giving him the leverage he needed to work his hips over the dildo, expletives in Italian being mumbled in between his whimpers. Once he found a rhythm and forgot how exposed he was, he let your hands go and began bouncing on his own, using you to get himself off. Your hands were now free, and one clutched onto his bouncing cock and begin to stroke it.

“Tell me how you feel, Papa.”

“Si se-sente bene.”

“Bene?” Your voice was back to condescending. “Only bene? Poor Papa, struggling to pull a decent sentence together.”

“I-”

“You’re so tight and desperate for cock, aren’t you, Papa?” He nodded emphatically. “Do you feel good riding me like this? Taking me for your own pleasure?”

“Dolcezza, per favore!”

“What, Papa? What do you want?”

“I need more.”

“More what?”

“Y-your hand… please.” You stopped stroking his cock. “No! You can’t do this - your - Your hand, stroke my cock, please!” Your hand gripped him again. “Tighter, please.” You obliged now that he was using his words. “Merda! F-feels good. So good. I can’t stop.” He was riding you harder now, his own words egging him on and sending him closer and closer to the edge.

“Do you want to cum, Papa?”

“Sì.”

“Cum for me, Papa. Cum all over me.”

Sure enough, his second orgasm spilled from him. His hips twitched erratically as he covered you in his seed, gasping for air as though he was suffocating. He couldn’t make any noise even if he wanted to - he couldn’t even hear you talking him through it. All he could feel was your tight hand wrapped around his sensitivity and still pumping him until he was completely spent. Not to mention the dildo still in his hole, keeping still while he wiggled and providing him with aftershocks that could bring his sanity crumbling down. He collapsed onto you, completely unable to move himself, and it fell upon you to make him come back to reality.

You stroked his hair and kept talking him through it, waiting until his ears stopped ringing enough to listen to your instructions. Eventually, he came to, and lay on his side after he’d painfully dragged himself off of you and waited for you to remove the harness and come back.

His eyes were closed from exhaustion and he jumped in surprise when he felt your hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, I have to clean you up.”

“Va bene. Grazie, amore mio.” His voice was weak, but there was a lazy smile on his face.

As soon as you were finished, you came back to bed and wrapped him in your arms. “You were so good for me, Copia.”

He moved his head level to you. “You’re always good to me.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[hummingbird-games]

Dev Blog #27

Well guys. 

We’ve reached the “little over a month until game release” threshold. 

The calm with which I write this devlog is a straight up façade. 

I’ve actually been putting up writing and posting one because as I’ve mentioned before, these things serve as part updates for y’all and part journal entries for me to read later. But lately I didn’t have anything noteworthy (brain fog, work woes, health tingz, you know the drill) or anything that wasn’t a serious spoiler. And then we got new followers (HI NEW PEEPS!!) and the blog was livelier and it was just easier putting my energy towards that lol.

But now I do have some updates, so here we go! 

Core Reviews played and reviewed us! Please check it out, show it some love and share the post! (And I’ll add it to the pinned messages sometime soon).

Beta testing is done. Officially. That’s right, I didn’t combust or die 😤✌🏽 (I did however learn a LOT and I’m grateful to every single person who took time to help me continue polishing up the game in time for October.) There are still plenty of things for me to do between now and release *cue tantrum* but if I continue to tell myself that it’s for the best, maybe I’ll start to believe it...

I made a TikTok. It’s really just another personal platform masquerading as a public space soooo I’m curious as to what kind of content I’ll post (this kills two birds with one stone: learning how to use TikTok and marketing the game ahaha)

Those epilogues I mentioned way back when?? They finished, baby. Now I can share what I’m thinking! Originally I drafted up this extra content as epilogues for the main game, just something short and sweet and super fun. But then months went by, and April and Lydia specifically were giving me the most issues with their routes, so I went back and forth with whether to release epilogues. And then I managed to buckle down and fight and win! So I’m editing them now. 

What does this mean for y’all? I still think I’ll be pushing it to have these edited, coded, tested and ready by game release. (It’s only 10k additional words total sooooo it’s doable but I worry these days about pushing myself.) Plan B???

Remember when I said I was gonna enter Yuri Jam? Well. I am considering releasing April, Florence, and Lydia’s epilogues as ‘bonus content’ aka a mini game for the Jam, and then releasing the boys’ + Billie’s bonus content after the jam ends. Technically I’m entered in the jam, but I never decided on what to work on, and hey, this is totally something that could work for a jam space??? I’d check a personal goal off the list and you guys would have something extra to look forward to as the year winds down. 

I’ve other got things to tie us over between now and October 18, but in in the meantime, check out the pinned post! There’s art and MC x LI drabbles, character boards (that are 90% accurate to the current status of the game LOL) a quiz, and a survey for the demo (which many of you have completed, thank you!)

Okie doke, bye y’all! 

- Gemini 

[paradox-gaming-network]

Twelve years ago I was in a totally different life. I had just finished all of my training and was just settling into my new career and I had a long way to go before I could spend hours on a video game. I knew I had a child on the way and I wasn’t going to be putting any money into a Kickstarter (and this was long before we’d have a series of failures in crowdfunded massive games). That doesn’t mean I wasn’t excited for Star Citizen. As an Eve Online player, when Star Citizen was presented to me by fellow Eve Players as the “next Eve Online” I was excited. Looking at the Star Citizen kickstarter it was a game that could take everything we loved about Eve and make it better.

Now, 12 years later, we look back at Star Citizen and we wonder how were we ever taken in so completely. RSI and CIG have made a literal fortune on crowdfunding a game that always seems to be almost ready, but can never quite reach the finish line. At over $671,000,000 raised from over 5.1M backers, there doesn’t seem to be any financial rush to button up either Squadron 42 or Star Citizen and bring it to launch.

Now yes, last October CIG announced that Squadron 42 was “feature complete” and entering the “polish phase” however that didn’t bring with it anything that looked like a release date. Squadron 42 was supposed to launch in 2015, and in 2016 a production schedule was made public, and now 7 years later the game is almost ready. Meanwhile the main game Star Citizen continues to suffer from sprawl (aka scope creep) and the focus now is to bring it to a 1.0 Release Product including difficult decisions on the part of new Senior Game Director Rich Tyrer deciding “all the features and content we need, and just as crucially, the ones that will come post release.” From that, it sounds like the 1.0 feature complete product will be a core viable product, but will not have all the bells and whistles that have been delaying the game for 9 years past its originally intended delivery date.

The question would be why should CIG and RSI worry about shipping a product when they have raised $671,000,000 and they often raise on average more than one million dollars a day. While not trying to be an alarmist some of the things that are said from RSI are worrisome. They lost a key staff member Todd Papy the former live game director, because he did not want to relocate from California to Texas or England. Papy was not the only individual to leave, they also lost a Lead Producer, An Assistant Design Director, A Lead Designer, a QA lead, a Senior AQ analysis, and another producer.

Also worrisome is the fact RSI/CIG seems to believe they are on the cutting edge of technology with their celebrating bringing 350 players into one shard, and having a seamless universe, when CCP and Eve Online have been able to handle 1k plus players in a system for 22 years. Yes, I know that the more people in a system in Eve, when you start to exceed the 2k threshold Time Dilation (Ti-Di) kicks in but still, it seems Star Citizen is celebrating 350 in one shard and they find this noteworthy enough to mention, but Lower Decks in Limsa Lominsa FFXIV will have more than 350 people on a busy weekend.

So the question is with the viewer, do you believe RSI/CIG will be able to bring Star Citizen to a 1.0 release build? Or do you believe they will just keep crowdfunding as long as money rolls in. Let me know.

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Can we get one where reader is in a band (we play the guitar and sing occasionally) and they play in Florida at one point and Rhea says she can’t be there but reader spots her in the crowd and (coincidentally) reader was singing a song about her n they meet backstage :) fluff plsss

Hidden In The Crowd

Rhea Ripley x Reader

I had no idea what song to pick so pretend u wrote a song by girl in red 😭

You strummed your guitar stings once again, feeling the vibration of not only the music, but he crowd too. Everyone was either singing along or screaming cheers at you, having the time of their life.

You had fun too, of course. Your band, the people around you, the music and lights. It was so perfect. Perfect apart from one thing.

Rhea wasn’t there.

You wished she was, but with her work times clashing into yours, it was difficult for you to go watch her matches and for her to watch your shows. You both understood and accepted that, only having your feelings hurts as a consequence.

The song quickly finished and the lead singer stepped away from the microphone. You had a 15 minute break before you had to back out again, sing another three songs, one of which was a song you’d written for your girlfriend. She wasn’t going to be here anyway, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, right?

How wrong you were.

You came back out after your break, fully expecting the crowd to remain the same. It did of course. No one had left yet, too hyped about seeing your band preform. But once you looked back out, a familiar face was looking righty back at you.

You scoffed slightly, disbelief that she had actually managed to come for your show. She was just smiling, watching you with crossed arms from not far away.

It was your turn to speak on the microphone, announcing the new song you were about to sing and what it was about. You weren’t expecting Rhea there, so your whole speech about the new song release had gone down the drain.

“Erm.” You spoke to the microphone, laughing a little as people started cheering. “So the next song hasn’t been released yet and um…It was written by me, about my girlfriend, which is in the crowd by the way.”

People cheered louder as they saw your flustered face. Your friends from your band watched with smirks on their faces from behind you, knowing exactly why you were so nervous all of a sudden.

You clutched onto your guitar, looking back at your friends who got right into position. The lead singer was next to you, as she’d assist you with the singing part, while the others got to their respective instruments.

Rhea still watched from the crowd, this time, with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk. You smiled back, only to look back down at your guitar when music started playing.

‘We fell in love in October.’

‘That’s why, I love fall.’

You followed to the tune of the song, occasionally looking up at Rhea who had a massive grin on her face. Her eyes never lift yours, yet you could feel your cheeks heating up every time you looked up.

‘Looking at the stars.’

‘Admiring from afar.’

Just like that the song was over, leaving you a blushing mess and the crowd a cheering noise. You stepped back with a small smile, getting ready for the next song to play.

I’m all honesty, you couldn’t wait to get backstage and hug Rhea. You’d not seen her in ages due to her tours, occasionally getting to see her over FaceTime and constantly texting. Tiring it was, but it was totally worth it for her.

You played the next two songs before getting to go off stage. Everyone wanted to congratulate your group for the performance and you simply feel too bad to go away, so you patiently waited and listened until you saw her in the corner of your eye.

The guitar you had strapped to you was now on the floor, your legs carrying you as you ran towards a very smug looking Wrestler. She caught you as you jumped at her, wrapping your legs around her waist and arms around her shoulders.

“Hey.” She laughed, holding onto the bottom on your thighs to keep you lifted up.

“God, I missed you.” You said, pulling away slightly, just enough to see her face and place a kiss to her lips. She smiled when you pulled away again to sink your face into the crook of her neck, smiling when her scent filled your senses.

“I missed you too.” She whispered, kissing your temple before looking over at your band. The lead singer, Ava, held up her thumbs towards Rhea, who knew she was only there thanks to their arrangements.

“And the song?” She asked, watching as you pulled away with a small smile. “About me?”

“Yeah.” You whispered, feeling your cheek warm up slightly. “I wrote it when you left for Tour.”

She smiled, letting go of your thighs to wrap her arms around your waist.

“I loved it.”

You only blushed more when she kissed your cheek, telling you how much she loved the song you had written.

Let’s just say, you didn’t let go of Rhea for the rest of the night.

THE END

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Whumptober Day 1: Bound

It's October so of course I'm writing again! We'll see how far I get through Whumptober this year lol.

Day 1: “You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

Characters: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne

Summary: When Damian becomes the latest victim in a string of kidnappings across Gotham, it's down to Dick to save him and the rest of the missing kids. He just has to get there in time.

AO3 Link

~

The sound of Dick’s boots echoed in the empty hall even as his heart pounded in his chest and his comm buzzed white noise into his ear. Dim lights flickered around him, only just illuminating his path through the old abandoned hotel. But he had to keep moving, had to find the missing kids. Had to find Damian .

He pushed himself a little faster through the hall, pausing only whenever he came to a door to throw it open, then on finding it empty, start his mad dash again. They had to be here, everything pointed to this location.

Batman and Robin had been investigating a series of kidnappings over the past month. Dick had done his best to keep Damian away from the information but the kid was about as stubborn as Bruce had been when he decided on something, so Dick had let him in with the promise they did everything together.

And he’d kept that promise. He’d done so well, and then it had been Dick who’d lost him.

“Stupid.” Dick grumbled, peering into yet another empty room. Every room was empty on this floor, but there were still the ballrooms at the top to check.

He’d been so stupid, taking Damian out to do some shopping then turning away for a moment. A second had been all the kidnapper needed to grab another kid. Another victim. And it was Dick’s fault. For looking away when there was a person out there grabbing kids Damian’s age.

Alfred’s consoling voice from earlier flooded through his thoughts as he took the stairs down two at a time, ‘It is not your fault, you were simply trying to have a good day amidst all this terribleness.’ And what good had it done either of them? Panic in Dick’s chest, and a missing brother.

The only thing that kept him moving was that none of the kids had been found yet. No ransoms had been sent out either, but no bodies meant they had to be somewhere. And Dick was going to find them.

He’d tracked the kidnapper here via an unusual series of shipments of food and chemicals sent to a Dr. Keith Raimy. An ex-professor from Gotham U who’d been kicked out for multiple breaches of student privacy and theft of university property. He'd recently had a paper rejected. It's title? Fear and Trauma: Can We Make Our Kids Strong Enough for the Future, Through Fear Today? Dick had skimmed the paper, and what had been proposed inside had made him sick to his stomach.

The door to the first ball room he tried on the top floor was locked. Muffled, and just through the door, Dick could hear screams. In a fit of rage, and fueled by the panic Dick was only just keeping in check, he kicked it down. The old rotting hinges gave way and the thing toppled backward with a heavy thump.

Silence filled the room for a moment, giving Dick a breath to take it in. Mostly empty, it had rotting carpet and peeling wallpaper. A tattered chandelier hung from the ceiling, pieces held on by a few dangling wires, but mostly disassembled either from time or theft.

Huddled in a group in one corner of an old ballroom, were children. The children Dick had been searching for. From what he could see, they were bound with some sort of rope, and looked rough, but alive and breathing.

At the far back of the room there was a stage, or what had once been used as a stage. Now it was mostly just a raised platform with tall floodlights dragged up to it, a rumbling generator the source of their power. It was cluttered with other equipment too, tables filled with jars and beakers, boxes opened with bits poking out of the top, and a laptop hooked up to a microscope. Standing among the clutter was Dr. Raimy in a stained lab coat just blocking a table.

He had turned to stare at Dick when the door came crashing down. Now, he moved to raise his arm, mouth opening, and in the next breath the moment of silence was broken as the screaming started again. The doctor tensed, shifting a bit to cover the table, but it wouldn’t help.

Clear now, the voice was unmistakably Damian’s, high and terrified in a way Dick had never heard it before and it was coming from behind the doctor.

Dick bolted forward, slipping batagrangs out of his belt. Damian was his only thought. His boy was up there, terrified and suffering all because of the man in front of him.

Dr. Raimy jumped to the side, attempting to make a run for it, and stumbled into another table. It gave Dick long enough to cover most of the distance between them and fling a few batarangs in the man’s direction. One caught his jacket, and the other stabbed into junk on the table making him yelp.  He jerked back, and then turned towards the table he’d been guarding, making a second dart for it, and the figure writhing atop it. Red clouded Dick’s vision as he got his first clear view of his little brother, strapped down to the table with a long strand of barbed wire, and straining against it as he yelled.

Dick roared, and leapt up to the platform, grabbing the doctor as he did so. The man released an aborted shout as Dick flung him back and away from the table into a pile of boxes. He turned for a moment to Damian, catching sight of his brother’s pupils blown wide. He hadn’t even registered the action beside him, trapped in whatever horrorscape he’d been dropped into.

The sound of rustling indicated that Raimy was already pushing himself up, babbling something about science and progress and Batman not understanding.

He stalked forward, raising himself up to as imposing a height as possible and kicked at the doctor, knocking him back into the boxes to stun him. Then, he reached down and dragged the man upwards.

“What did you give him?” he demanded.

“It was--a mixture of my own making.”

Dick shook him so hard that he heard something pop, “Did you make an antidote?”

Behind him, Damian’s screaming changed pitch to something even more desperate.

“ Tell me .” he growled.

“T-there, it’s--it’s in the line of blue vials. Please don’t kill me, I was only trying-”

Dick didn’t give the man the time to finish his sentence, he punched him square in the face, and dropped him unconscious back into the boxes. Then he was over at the vials, thankfully a syringe had already been filled or he’d have to waste time figuring out how much to give Damian. He pocketed it, swapping it out in his hand for a pair of wire clippers and rushed back to the table.

“Damian, I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s alright.” Dick said, voice gentle, “I’m getting you out of here.”

Something must have gotten through to him, because Damian stilled at his words, staring with wide, terrified eyes up at Dick. Dick tried not to look at the red lines of blood on Damian’s arms and chest he worked on clipping the barbed wire, instead murmuring quietly to Damian to keep him calm.

Thankfully, the man hadn’t totally wrapped Damian in the stuff. The single band was thick and strong enough to keep a drugged kid down, but hopefully hadn’t done too much damage. Still, it made Dick’s stomach churn as he lifted it as gently as he could off his brother, Damian making only the tiniest of sobs as each barb still embedded in his skin pulled out.

“Just one more second, sweetheart.” Dick whispered, hoping his voice wasn’t carrying over to the other kids. There was murmuring coming from them by now, as they realized rescue was at hand, but Dick’s focus was on the kid currently in need of the most help. At last, Dick dropped the discarded wire onto the table and leaned back to find the vial of the antidote.

Something about the sound of the wire, or a movement Dick made, or just whatever concoction the doctor had given him triggered something in Damian the moment Dick leaned away. He shot up from where he’d been lying, and grabbed the wire with both hands, heedless of any damage it was causing.

Dick reached for him, ready to pull the barbed wire away from him but Damian scooted back, precariously close to the edge of the table and yelled, “No! Don’t!”

“Hey, it’s alright, why don’t you give me that?” Dick asked, trying to calm him back down.

“Stop!” Damian yelled again, gripping the wire tighter and pressing it to his chest, “Don’t take him!”

“Damian please, you have to let go. It’s hurting you.” Dick tried again, wincing as red started to drip down the wire.

“No! I won’t let you!”

“Okay, okay.” Dick held up both hands, whatever Damian was seeing must have been convincing and he didn’t want to hurt the kid by forcing the barbed wire out of his hands, he’d only tear them up more that way.

“Would you let me give you something?” Dick asked, gently lowering his arms to retrieve the syringe, “It’ll make you feel better.”

Damian eyed him, the look almost like what he’d normally make when suspicious, but just off enough from the drugs, “Yes?” he said.

“Great. I just need your arm, you don’t have to let go of anything or anyone okay?” Dick said, slowly reaching for Damian’s arm with his free hand. When the boy let him place his hands by his elbow, Dick angled it up, then after a moment, praying he hadn’t been lied to, injected his brother with the liquid in one motion.

Damian jerked back, squeezing the wire closer to him and went tumbling from the table. Dick lunged over it, and just managed to hook an arm around the kid, tugging him up. He heard the clatter of glass falling and hitting the ground as the syringe that had still been stuck in Damian’s arm slipped out and shattered.

“No! No! Stop!” Damian wailed, kicking and jerking in Dick’s hold.

Mindful that if he tugged Damian into his chest the barbed wire would do more harm, Dick decided he'd restrain him by pulling his back towards him. That was easier said than done with a flailing kid. At last, Dick had an arm hooked under Damian’s arms and had him held tight against him, seated again on the table. His brother continued to scream and kick and tug at him for another minute, then two, until gradually Damian’s own chest slowed it’s rapid rise and fall and his cries quieted down to nothing.

“Batman?” His voice was tiny, shattered from screaming, but almost lucid.

Dick dropped his face into Damian’s hair and sighed, “Yeah, I’ve got you.”

He let go of Damian and stepped around to face his front. There, he pointed at the tangled barbed wire still in Damian’s hands, “Will you hand me that?”

Damian looked down surprised to see it, “Oh.”

Wincing he released it, and before anything else could happen, Dick balled it up and tossed it away from them. When he turned back to Damian, the kid was staring down at his palms that were red and torn. He hadn’t said anything else, but Dick could hear the tight way he was breathing, the sound almost like whistles, like he was holding back the pain.

He dug out some gauze, wraps, and something to numb the pain, “Here, let me.”

With gentle motions Dick bandaged Damian’s hands. When he was done, he dropped a kiss onto the knuckles of each one, “Wait for me right here? I have to help the others.”

Damian’s eyes went wide, “The kids--”

“Are mostly fine.” Dick said, sparing them another glance, they’d been remarkably patient, but their chatter had gone up from quiet murmurs to full conversations, “But eager to be untied I’m sure.”

His brother nodded. Even though it tore at Dick’s heart to step away, he did. And he took as much time with each of them as they needed. Batman couldn’t focus only on one child after all, especially when others showed signs of having gone through something similar to Damian.  Gradually though, Dick got them all settled down, untied, and called Oracle to let her know to send police and paramedics. Then he swung by Damian to scoop him up into his arms --the kid for once not arguing being carried-- and corralled everyone downstairs.

Dick could see the lights of the emergency vehicles through the windows, and sent the children out before him, lingering back in the building with Damian. The last thing he wanted to do was let go of his brother, even if it was to hand him off to medical professionals. He’d just gotten him back, and the mere thought of having him out of his sight for a second felt impossible to manage. All he could think of were the number of --mostly implausible-- ways Damian could end up hurt or in danger again.

He was starting to see why Bruce had been so protective of his Robins.

"Batman?" Damian's voice was very quiet in the dim lighting.

"Yes?"

Damian shifted so his face was pressed a little closer to Dick's neck, "I'm sorry. I got caught."

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry I let you get taken."

"I-" Damian sighed, "Thank you for coming."

Dick tugged him a little closer, mindful that he still had injuries that needed to be cared for, "Always. Now, what do you say we sneak out and let Alfred finish patching you up? The police are used to Batman disappearing, and I found you before I ever reported you missing."

Damian, hummed, “I would like that, I want to go home.”

Dick pressed a kiss into Damian’s hair, “Then straight home we go.”

[into-crazy]

horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

[popcorn-kitten]

new hiveswap info and development timelines just dropped on the Kickstarter ✌️

Over the years, a lot of misinformation, as well as deliberate disinformation, has spread around about the history of Hiveswap. The purpose of this post is to clarify these matters for backers who've been wondering what the truth is.

The Kickstarter was planned by the What Pumpkin business development team in mid-2012. One member of the team was a crowdfunding specialist who led the planning process and managed the contracts with the developer. Prior to the Kickstarter opening for pledges, What Pumpkin worked out a plan for a flexible game concept that could be refined according to how much the campaign ultimately brought in. As Hussie was still working on Homestuck full time at this point, the plan was to hand over his game concept and story outline to a development company that could deliver the project.

The crowdfunding campaign finished out at a gross total of $2,485,506, as well as a gross total of $207,930 from PayPal pledges. But because of platform fees, as well as the costs of producing and shipping merchandise to backers of the campaign, the effective budget was significantly lower than the gross pledged total:

The above deductions from the gross total do not include taxes.

After determining the final budget for the game, What Pumpkin signed an agreement with the contracted game company (hereafter “GC”) to develop Hussie’s game concept. WP and GC entered into a development contract on November 30, 2012, shortly after the conclusion of the Homestuck Kickstarter. WP paid $788,000 to GC in late 2012 for development.

Because there was an understanding that delivering the complete game development documents would take some time, during which it would be difficult for GC to make meaningful progress on the Hiveswap game build, GC inquired about getting involved with other Homestuck-adjacent projects to do immediate work. WP let GC know about the Act 7 animation plans. With an assurance that this work could be done in parallel with a flexible timeline and would not impact the development cycle of Hiveswap itself, Hussie and What Pumpkin saw this as a good opportunity to establish a working relationship with this organization prior to the start of development and agreed to contract GC to do animation work for the Act 7 project. WP and GC agreed that this project would have a separate budget from the Hiveswap Kickstarter money, paid for from WP’s regular operating funds. As the existence of this animation itself would not be revealed until its release in 2016, this was not publicly announced at the time. GC and the lead animator on the project specifically requested not to be credited upon release of the animation.

Hussie initiated the “Megapause” on April 14, 2013 in order to devote his full attention to finalizing the Hiveswap development documents. What Pumpkin soon provided its story documents so that GC could formally begin core systems development. In July of 2013 WP and GC mutually agreed to push back GC’s deliverable dates without penalty. Hussie would share an update in 2013 detailing the state of predevelopment:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/708686

In 2013 following receipt of WP’s deliverables, GC enthusiastically assured WP that it was positioned to begin development. GC would deliver its first prototype in early 2014.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qSXwWKD5Km1yL-3Cj_W5IevW-IA978zJ/view?usp=sharing

This prototype, linked above, was sent to WP on 2/18/14. At this point, it was becoming a significant concern among backers that WP had yet to show proof that the game was being made, so WP was looking for any sort of tangible progress update from GC that was suitable to share with the public. But Hussie and WP found the quality of the prototype somewhat alarming, and decided that sharing any shots from the game would only cause embarrassment for GC. Nevertheless, WP was still willing to assume that this was a very early draft of something that would develop into a more promising product soon, and gave GC some more time to improve on it.

But the improvements didn’t come. No other advancements on the prototype were ever made. After waiting weeks with no update other than assurances that progress was carrying on smoothly, Hussie initiated the “Gigapause” both to take care of personal matters and later to get directly involved in the development of the game himself. He decided to move to southern California from the east coast in hopes that working directly with the GC could help them overcome whatever obstacles they were facing with Hiveswap’s development. GC responded positively to the prospect of Hussie’s involvement, but when he made the move and tried to coordinate a time to visit the GC offices and meet, GC insisted it was a bad time due to office renovations and a busy schedule. Here is a timeline with quotes from emails exchanged between Hussie and GC:

May 12, 2014 - from Hussie to GC

“Just letting you know I actually moved to the west coast recently. I'm only an hour or so away from LA now.

I could drive down and check out the office, see how things are going with the game and animation in person some time soon. Is there a time that would work for you guys? In a week or two maybe?”

May 15, 2014 - from GC to Hussie

“That's awesome about being on the west coast. It'd be great to have you come to the studio.

Dev has slowed a bit on our end, as we wanted to take a step back and really evaluate what was needed and the best way to achieve the features that have been coming online in the docs. We're continuing to break that all down so we can build and plan most effectively moving forward. We also wanted to find some simple formats for input from your writing team for dialogue content and are getting that squared away.

The best time to come by would actually be right after E3. Things are a bit nuts until then.”

May 18, 2014 - from Hussie to GC

“[Name redacted], sounds good. I'll set aside some time after E3 to make the drive down. As we approach the date, just let me know what works for you.”

E3 was June 10-12, 2014. GC did not invite Hussie to visit at this time.

Hussie and WP representatives were in LA over July 4th weekend, 2014. When they inquired about visiting the offices again they were still not welcome. A GC representative insisted that they meet at a restaurant instead. Yet GC continued to telegraph that they were receptive to the idea of inviting Hussie to the office well into the summer:

Aug 18, 2014 - from GC to Hussie

“We'd love to set up a new time for Andrew to come to the studio as well as a skype chat to meet the other team members.”

Despite apparent enthusiasm about meeting with Andrew in their email correspondence, GC continued the pattern of refusing to meet at the office or supply any signs of progress on the prototype.

Over that summer, GC delivered several pieces of concept art that WP had been requesting since January. Hussie did his best to present this publicly as a positive development as WP felt it would be counterproductive to the project and harmful to GC to publicly detail the development troubles at the time.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/883860

There was no indication from GC that the Act 7 animation project was in any way in conflict with Hiveswap development. GC was enthusiastic about taking on this project, and bidded against other animators for the contract. They saw it as a useful tie-in to concept art work on Hiveswap, as GC leadership conveyed in an email to WP in early 2013:

WP also does not have any reason to believe that the Act 7 project in practice created a conflict that was not disclosed by GC to WP. Act 7 was a 2D animation project, and Hiveswap at the time was a 3D game, so it did not pull GC’s programmers or 3D artists away from work on Hiveswap. GC never mentioned the development needs of a separate project at all to WP, or cited any such reason as distracting from work on Hiveswap; GC instead repeatedly provided WP with various assurances that everything was still fine with Hiveswap.

Had GC communicated that they had scheduling conflicts or some other impediment preventing them from developing Hiveswap, WP would have terminated the contract even sooner.

WP moved to terminate the agreement with GC late summer of 2014, and Hussie pivoted towards establishing a new independent game studio while consulting with a designer who had stepped up into a leadership position during the GC development period. That individual lived in NYC, which is why that location was chosen to establish the new studio rapidly. They helped build the studio through a local network of professional contacts. While this “What Pumpkin NYC” studio shared a name with What Pumpkin, it’s important to note that all of WP NYC’s studio staff save for the aforementioned individual were hired without any prior affiliation with WP and thus had no association with the GC contract. WP documented this development on Kickstarter on October 30th, 2014. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/14293468/homestuck-adventure-game/posts/1035099

At this point, negotiations were very amicable; both parties agreed the project simply wasn’t turning out to be a good fit for GC, and were both ready to move on. There were no signs given at all that WP was about to have trouble recovering the remaining funds.

WP is legally permitted to discuss details of the resolution of the dispute only under very specific circumstances. WP may make additional disclosures outside of this post to individual backers in accordance with legal obligations.

Following resolution of the GC contract, in Spring 2015 the WP NYC studio was running at full capacity on Hiveswap. The main problem was the fact that WP management was blindsided by the revelation that much less money would be coming back than expected. The WP NYC project manager had designed the schedule based on the good faith presumption that most of the development funds would be recouped. When it was finally revealed the return was far short of what was expected, and the repayment plan could in no way keep up with the schedule as currently drafted, it threw the project into a period of chaos as plans were quickly redrawn. The length of Act 1 was slashed, and other modifications were made to try to fit the rest of Act 1 into the newly shortened runway. But in the end, the revisions still weren't enough to save the game as it existed, and the studio needed to be closed in order to reserve what funds remained to finish the project in some form.

This may have come across as a sudden or spontaneous decision. Part of this is because the WP NYC senior staff and WP ownership were doing everything in their power to save the project, including injecting WP regular operating funds into the project, until it was determined that going any further would be disastrous for the future of Hiveswap. Another is that WP was legally unable to give any detailed disclosures about the financial troubles, even to many of the WP NYC staff.

It should also be noted that originally the NYC studio was not going to be permanently closed, but only frozen for a reassessment of the project. But during this freeze period, there were some dramatic events. One staff member behaved in a destructive and threatening manner. For the protection of those involved, details shouldn't be disclosed. But these events made navigating the post-freeze issues impossible. Communication between ownership, management and staff broke down because of these events, and the freeze turned into full closure. This version of the project was then abandoned for many reasons, including these events.

Some misinformation claims that at the time the WP NYC studio was shuttered, its iterations of Act 1 and 2 were complete. This is wrong. Act 1 was very far from a shippable state and absolutely no work on Act 2 had been completed besides some concept and 3D art. Here you can see a video documenting one of many major bugs with critical path progression in the final build produced by WP NYC, where it becomes impossible to re-focus on the Simon Says toy if Joey fails and then exits out of the puzzle:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1M2mmkMx8Wkwp1VU_5IpMKDvngmUFS0IG/view?usp=sharing

At the point the WP NYC studio was frozen it was still difficult to finish a full run of the critical path without the debug tool, and the UI was far from complete. With that build, Act 1 ended the moment Joey passed through the portal on Earth. The current version of Act 1, where Joey makes it to Alternia and meets Xefros, is more indicative of the original length of the NYC version of Act 1. Not only did it need to be slashed from what the original script proposed, the NYC version of Act 1 still wasn't that close to resembling a shippable product after those changes were made.

Because of the amount of time and resources already devoted to this project, WP was initially very reluctant to lay anyone off or scrap the work being done. It was for this reason that the studio stayed open for months after the contract with GC was resolved; WP made every effort to deliver a game with that team, but at the time WP NYC was shuttered, the funds just weren't there to keep the studio running at its current burn rate and schedule slips. The game was never going to reach delivery with the funds available. The studio urgently needed to be frozen for a full reassessment, and then it was closed after the freeze due to the reasons stated above. This was the only course of action that could have saved the project.

To WP's knowledge every artist whose work was used in the final release of Act 1 was included in the credits. The final version of Act 1 was in large part built off concept art and storyboards drawn during the WP NYC era, and many of the artists who made them continued to work on the team that produced the final version of Act 1; the roadmap for the completion of Act 1 was specifically planned because WP had determined that the existing 2D concepts could easily be refined into a final product that would both be visually appealing and more economic to produce. Unfortunately due to the transition to 2D WP no longer had a place for the 3D artists or the original 3D engine, and all of those assets were dropped. They were not used as a basis for the finished assets in Act 1, and visual similarities to WP NYC 3D assets are due to the fact that final Act 1 assets are in large part refinements of the original concept art. Any artist whose work was used incidentally was included in Additional Contributions.

Both the GC and NYC phases of Hiveswap were setbacks to the overall fulfillment of the project, but not insurmountable. WP reorganized the budget to establish a new version of the studio, and Act 1 was released two years after the closure of NYC.

As an addendum, WP has identified the primary source of a disclosure to a well-circulated document of the Hiveswap development process. WP has been aware of a pattern of false claims this former employee has made since the end of their employment at the beginning of 2014. As this individual was not present during the end of the development contract with GC, nor the WP NYC development period, all of the information they have shared is based on speculation and conjecture.

At this time, WP does not wish to invite more controversy into the lives of anyone previously involved with this project, and considers these matters to have been resolved long ago. The goal for years has been to turn the page on flawed attempts by earlier studios, and simply move forward and bring Hiveswap to completion without sparking the chaos, disruption, and threats to personal safety that would have resulted from disclosing many of the details stated above. Doing so would only make it more difficult for the staff to rebuild the project during these periods immediately following the termination of the GC agreement and closure of the NYC studio. Since preservation of the project was the primary responsibility to the backers, making destructive disclosures that put the project at risk along the way would have been at odds with that responsibility. This policy also served to protect individuals from personal or professional harm, including those who were responsible for serious setbacks with the project. Please respect the privacy of any persons affiliated with GC and WP NYC.

[trxsh3banditt]

THEORY TIIIIIIIMMMEEEEE

Alrighty! So we know that Henrik was mysteriously missing for some time! But according to my research, I believe he was missing for EXACTLY 2 years and 3 months. ALLOW ME TO DO A TIMELINE

June 24, 2017. His third appearance in “TRUST ME I’M A DOCTOR” Bio Inc redemption #4 of Jacks. He refuses to mention where he’s from, making it increasingly obvious that something’s up. Although being a doctor, he chooses to play “Kill” instead of “Save”. In the end of the video after killing two patients, he says and I quote! “Now I am a true doctor. Forever and always” Note: Henrik was never a truly good doctor and with some other theories, Anti tricked him into making it seem like he’d be a good doctor someday with his help.

August 3, 2017. His fourth appearance in “KILL JACKSEPTICEYE” Bio Inc Redemption. This is when we see more noticeable changes in him. The glitching, random laughter, and the attempt to choke himself with Jack’s headphone cords! Anti makes his grand appearance in the end saying things like “You thought you had him back” and some other lines. Along with Henrik saying “SAVE HIM. SAVE JACKSEPTICEYE” meaning there’s something wrong and Henrik can’t do much to stop it.

May 3-4, 2018. May third, Jack released a photo said to be the “Nine month anniversary of Henrik’s DISSAPEARANCE” Meaning Henrik’s not there anymore. May forth, Jack uploaded a Surgery Squad video, in which the last moments of the video Henrik comes barging through the door saying “ZHAT IS MY CHAIR” and such. But, according to my Dr.Jack/Dr.Schneeplestein theory, what if, this was happening in his nightmarish state with Anti.

October 19, 2019. The last few minutes of “You’re not ready for these scary games” Henrik seems to be going through his computer and ripping out pages of his notes. He seems to be very frustrated as he looks closely at his computer, as the video ends.

Alright, now before I continue. This makes one year and four months right now of Henrik’s disappearance. BUT. The last part is purely off of information from Jack’s video of Marvin. “Don’t Make Eye Contact” as Henrik appears in the video

October 31, 2020. The video originally named Argentum Inanis, now “Don’t Make Eye Contact” Showcasing a series like flashback when Marvin puts his hand on the black orb. Anti, Chase, Henrik. Shown in the very order, implying that Anti is still using Chase and Henrik. If it wasn’t the case, JJ would have also been in those flashbacks as JJ was one of the first taken of the three. That would add eleven months onto the one year and four months Henrik was missing. That would be 27 months = 1 year 15 months = 2 years and 3 months. The total time span he’d been gone and may still be missing

[imaginingsoftly]

Wedding Date Pt. 1 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, asshole exes

A/N: I’ve been working on this for about 2 months now, and finally have enough finished to be able to share with you guys. A HUGE thank you to @tysojost for reading the first few parts and giving me incredible feedback when I got stuck! 

This is going to be somewhere around 7 parts, and I’ll release a new part once a week. Probably Thursdays.

Melissa groaned as she came to. It had been a long night, one that hadn’t ended until almost 3am, and now the sun was shining in her eyes after what had felt like an hour or two. The alcohol from last night sloshed slightly in her stomach as she reached over to grab her phone, and Melissa stilled. She would not puke. Not right now. Thankfully, her stomach settled after a few seconds of blind panic, and she finished reaching out for her phone. The screen was blindingly bright, and Melissa squinted as she stared down at the time in disbelief. Scratch that, it had only been two hours. Damn Ontario and their early sunrises. 

She was never drinking with John and his former teammates again. Sure, it had been fun to show off a bit and drink most of them under the table, but damn her stomach hurt. A cup of strong black coffee and maybe a Gatorade were a must before she did anything. There was a small shop in the lobby of the resort that would have Gatorade, she had seen it during check-in the afternoon before. The coffee, thankfully, was in the apartment. As a self-aware coffee snob she’d brought her own grounds and french press, and there was a kettle for boiling water on the stove. Good coffee would go a long way to settle her stomach, Melissa knew that from experience. 

The sky was calling Melissa’s name as she peered out the window in her room. It was cloudy, a storm likely coming on the horizon. Her ideal weather. The face looking back at her in the mirror looked a mess, leftover mascara smeared under her eyes and hair a greasy tangled nest. She would need a shower after her walk. Brushing her teeth made her feel like a new person, and Melissa slipped into a pair of shorts and a ratty sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was actually John’s, the groom for the weekend, something she’d borrowed one night after her and Kirsten got a little too drunk in the couple’s living room. Her best friend’s fiance, being the angel that he was, slept in the guest room that night when Kirsten and Melissa passed out in the master bedroom. 

Melissa sighed as she stepped into the cool morning air, relishing in how clean it smelled. She loved living in the city, loved the easy access to everything and the ability to walk everywhere, but the air quality was severely lacking. Plus, if there was one thing that Ontario did better than Virginia, it was the weather. Huntsville was cool, cool enough to wear a sweatshirt. It wouldn’t be cool enough to wear a sweatshirt in Arlington again until at least the beginning of October. 

The walk to the check in office took almost an hour there and back, but she returned with a large Gatorade and a granola bar. She downed them both on the walk back to her room. The walk had been energizing, and the sights were beautiful. Deerhurst Resort, the wedding venue, was situated on a lake and surrounded by green. It was exactly the kind of weekend escape Kirsten had been convincing her she needed for probably the last two years. 

The entire building was still silent as Melissa made her way back into the hotel room, and she began to pull things out of her suitcase for a shower. Kirsten and John hadn’t given her the chance to unpack anything the night before, instead pulling her out of the hotel room and into the party as soon as she’d set her bags down. The bathroom was fancy, way more fancy than the one she had at home, and Melissa let the water begin to heat up while she turned on some music. 

Kip Moore began shooting out of her speakers, one of his songs about drinking, and Melissa skipped that one quickly. It was too early to go down that road again. The next song was one of his softer, gentler ones about love, and she let that one play as she stepped under the water. The weekend stay was a bit more than she would spend on just herself for the weekend, even if it was for her best friend’s wedding, and she once again thanked the gods that John’s family had decided to foot the bill for everyone’s stay. She’d needed the break. 

A shower was exactly what Melissa needed, and she smiled at herself in the mirror as she smoothed acne treatment and moisturizer onto her skin. The gatorade and KIND bar had done wonders to soothe the sloshing in her stomach, and now her skin felt clean again. She was ready for the real stuff to start now, beginning with the wedding party brunch later on. 

The brunch wasn’t for a few hours, when most of the world would be up, so Melissa threw on an oversized long-sleeved t-shirt and some boyshorts rather than her dress for later. There was no need to get all dressy to go through her morning coffee ritual. 

Melissa turned up the music as she stepped out of the room and into the kitchen, singing along softly. The coffee grounds, ground before she’d left for Huntsville the day before, smelled heavenly as she held the container up to her nose. There was nothing in the world like the smell of freshly-ground coffee, especially on a morning like this.  

“You’ll have to excuse Lissa,” Melissa heard behind her suddenly, “when it comes to her morning coffee she has blinders on.” She heard Kirsten laugh as she swung around, one hand on her chest. Kirsten smirked from her spot in the living room. Her friend looked far too put together for this early in the morning, in her summer dress and sandals, the engagement ring on her finger sparkling in the sunlight. 

A tall, dark, and very handsome man stood to her left, an amused smile lighting up his face as well. Tyler Seguin. His arms were crossed, ink peeking out from underneath his long sleeve shirt in what Melissa already knew were two full sleeves. Damn her, Kirsten knew she was a sucker for tattoos. Her friend had threatened to play matchmaker this weekend, and it appeared this statue of a man would be the first attempt. 

Tyler met her eyes like he knew what she was thinking, and Melissa turned back to her coffee quickly. Better to pretend she wasn’t interested than embarrass herself. “Lissy,” Kirsten said, “this is my cousin Tyler. He wasn’t sure if he could make it this weekend, so he doesn’t have a room reserved. I put him in the extra room in here.” Of course she did. Melissa knew she was up to something when she’d been put in a two bedroom suite all alone. 

She finished putting coffee grounds in the french press before she responded. “I figured there was going to be a latecomer for that room.” It took all of her effort, but Melissa turned around with a pleasant smile on her face. “Welcome, Tyler. Glad you could make it.” His face said that he knew she was lying, but Kirsten didn’t pick up on their silent conversation. She was exclaiming about all the fun they would have together, especially as two single people at a wedding full of couples. Melissa audibly groaned, and Tyler’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. 

Kirsten was still talking as she took off into the bathroom, something about drinking way too much coffee with John. “I’m surprised he’s awake,” Melissa yelled through the bathroom door, “him and his teammates did their best to drink me under the table last night.” Tyler looked confused, and she shook her head. ‘Just wait,’ she mouthed. 

He smiled for real at her mouthed words, and leaned back against the countertop casually. The movement showed off his arms even more, and Melissa bit back a groan. Kirsten hurried out of the bathroom, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, tried to outdrink you? That’s why he looked hungover as shit?” 

Melissa shrugged. “One of the guys assumed I would be a lightweight. I set out to prove otherwise. I outdrank everybody except Cameron.” 

“That’s because he’s got a foot and 100 pounds on you!” He really had been substantially bigger. Even at her 170-ish pounds he’d been almost twice her size, and he drank like it too. Although her alcohol tolerance kept up just fine, thank you very much. 

The smell of her nearly-completed coffee interrupted Melissa’s train of thought, and she turned back to the french press rather than respond. “I can’t believe you tried to outdrink a bunch of hockey players.” Tyler almost sounded impressed. “What are you, 5’0?” 5’2, actually, but who was counting, right? Melissa crunched the coffee grounds down, pouring herself a cup of perfectly-brewed coffee. 

Both Tyler and Kirsten were staring her down when she turned back around with the mug in her hand, the latter looking stunned and the former looking very interested. “It wasn’t that hard. We were drinking IPAs. I basically lived on the shit when I was dating that hipster brewery guy, remember?” 

“I try not to.” Kirsten rolled her eyes and turned to her cousin. “She dated this guy, Todd, for like a year. He was a total stereotypical hipster, stupid beard and all. He also fancied himself a brewer, even though his homemade brews sucked ass, and he drank IPA like it was water.” Tyler looked mildly disgusted, and Melissa was inclined to agree with him. “Lissa over here put up with it for way too long because she was too nice to tell him to fuck off. Right Lissy?” 

Kill her now. She turned bright red as Tyler’s amused gaze looked her way. She couldn’t even shake her head. “God, I was so happy when you broke up with him.” Kirsten, in the way she always seemed to, managed to make even the strangest of situations even stranger. Don’t just put the random cousin in the suite with the best friend, no. Tell him all about the shitty ex too.

Kirsten dismissed herself with a thinly-veiled excuse and a “see you at brunch”, and Melissa found herself alone with Tyler. They stared at each other for a moment, both taking in the awkwardness of the situation. “So, uh,” Melissa wracked her brain for something, anything really, to say to relax the situation. “Coffee?” She held up her mug, gesturing at the french press. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to make another cup. I promise I brew good coffee.” 

She began emptying out the french press without waiting for a response, so Tyler’s answer made her jump. “As long as it’s better than Todd’s homemade IPAs.” Of course he went there. It was pretty apparent him and Kirsten definitely shared the same genes. She would have made the same joke, though maybe a little meaner. After all, Kirsten had known Todd. They’d butted heads more than a few times, actually. 

Warmth spread across Melissa’s back suddenly, and she realized Tyler was right behind her. Actually he was basically on top of her, she realized as she turned around. “So I think my cousin plans on hooking us up while we’re here.” Tyler’s eyes were alight with mischief as he spoke, and Melissa didn’t get a chance to respond. “She mentioned how single you were several times, and that I needed a girlfriend. She wasn’t exactly subtle.” No, Kirsten never was. Subtlety wasn’t even a word in her vocabulary. “So I’m thinking,” Tyler said as he brushed a stray piece of hair back from her face, “we could pretend to be getting together as a way to appease her. That way she doesn’t try to set us up at the wedding. We go in together, we leave together, no more single people get shoved in our direction.” 

It was a good plan, really, and almost guaranteed to work. Kirsten would be too busy with John to realize that they weren’t all over each other physically, and the coming and leaving together would appease her. “Okay.” Melissa spoke before she really thought it through, and then it was too late. Tyler’s eyes warmed when he smiled, and Melissa tried not to acknowledge how much she liked it when that happened. 

“Okay.” His words were soft, softer than she had imagined his voice getting. “I’ll pick you up at 10:30 for brunch?” 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Romeo. I’ll meet you in the common area at 10:30.” She began to head back into her room, done with this conversation and needing to get space before she combusted, when Tyler spoke again.

“I’ll knock on your door. If I’m your date this weekend, I’m doing it right.” His eyes were intense when she turned around, and Melissa couldn’t do anything but nod. 

_____________________________________________________________

The dress was too much for a brunch. Sure, it was pretty and they were at a fancy resort, but still. It looked more like a date dress than a brunch dress. The white linen sat loose from her shoulders, slightly tight around her chest because there was nothing she could do about that. Her chest got in the way of every loose garment. It came to slightly above mid-thigh, a little higher than she normally preferred, but Kirsten had picked out the dress. Even on that day, before the wedding brunch was planned, Kirsten had commented how perfect it was for a brunch date. A brunch for your best friend’s wedding wasn’t quite a brunch date, but close enough. 

Tyler knocked on the door as Melissa was finishing her hair, and she yelled out an answer from her seat on the floor in front of the mirror. He poked his head in and stopped short at the sight of her. “You look,” he trailed off as their eyes met in the mirror. “You look pretty damn good for a girl who drank a ton of former hockey players under the table last night.” She laughed at Tyler’s statement, and his mouth stretched into a smile. “We have like 20 minutes until we have to be there, so how about we get to know each other a little bit?” 

He moved to sit on the bed when Melissa nodded, and she tried not to notice how good he looked. He was dressed to match her, completely coincidentally, in cuffed jeans and a white linen shirt. The top couple of buttons were undone, and she could see the tattoo on his pec poking out from the gap. It was a lot to deal with. 

“I’m the oldest of four,” Melissa began to distract herself, “and one of three girls. My brother is the next oldest, and he’s my best friend. We do almost everything together. I’m an English professor at George Washington University, and I focus in Linguistics. Specifically language and gender.” Tyler looked impressed as she spoke, and Melissa tried not to preen too much. It wasn’t often that someone appeared interested in her field of study. 

While they sat in awkward silence for a moment Melissa tried to focus on her hair, but the braid she was trying to put in her hair wasn’t cooperating. “What about you?” Tyler didn’t seem to hear the question, focused in on her hands as they twisted through her hair in another attempt to form the braid. “Tyler?”

He jerked back to the present when she spoke again, and Melissa actually saw him shake his head a little bit. “Right. Started my career in Boston, plan on finishing it in Dallas. Born and raised outside of Toronto, and I have two younger siblings. Both girls.” Their eyes met in the mirror, and Melissa was struck by how nice the color of his eyes were. “Wanna trade? I’ll give you one of my sisters for your poor brother?” 

They laughed together, and she felt herself relax a ton. He wasn’t what she expected, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected. “He’d take that in a heartbeat. Although he’s a diehard Caps fan, so good luck there.” Tyler grabbed his heart sarcastically as if he was in pain, and Melissa giggled into her hand. Finally her hair cooperated, and Melissa stood with a sigh. “Okay, Seguin. Let’s go brunch.” 

They walked down to the patio reserved for the wedding party and family arm in arm. She fit into his side comfortably, and Tyler held her closer than really necessary. With their white linen and white sneakers, they looked like a couple. Kirsten’s eyes were full of mischief when the pair appeared on the patio, and Melissa rolled her eyes. 

The patio itself looked like something out of a fairytale. Edison bulbs sat overhead on strings slashing across the open space, off since it was the middle of the day. She could imagine the warm glow they would paint the space with were it night, and Melissa almost wished she could come back just for the sole purpose of seeing this place lit up in the darkness. There was a vine and flower-covered brick wall on the far side of the patio, and she saw little twinkle lights sitting in the vines ready to be turned on once it got dark enough. The scent of trees and sweet flowers sat in the air, and a cool breeze came in off of the lake. Tables had been pushed together to make one long table for everyone to sit at, and just about every seat was full.

It looked like Kirsten had gotten others involved in her scheming as well, because the only spots available for them to sit at were side-by-side. Melissa swore her friend up and down when she noticed, and Tyler laughed under his breath. “She really does want to set us up, huh?” This was more than embarrassing. He didn’t ask to be set up with her, and Melissa sure as hell didn’t want Kirsten to think she needed to be set up by family just to find a date. She muttered an apology under her breath, and Tyler reached over to squeeze the hand wrapped around his arm. “It’s fine. At least if people think we’re together they’ll leave me alone.” 

The brunch was painfully long, only made easier by the short sarcastic remarks Tyler made under his breath throughout the meal. Melissa loved Kirsten, she really did, but this level of extravagant was really out of her depths. Everything on the menu was some kind of fancy shit she couldn’t pronounce, and all she wanted to do was knock back another coffee and maybe a bagel. 

“Ten bucks says Kelly leaves with Cameron tomorrow night.” Melissa snorted at Tyler’s words,  even as she fought off a shiver over his lips hovering so close to her ear. “I mean seriously,” he continued, oblivious to her body’s reaction, “she might as well just crawl into his lap at this point.” They really were sitting very closely, and Melissa was convinced she’d seen Cameron’s hand slip up Kelly’s skirt at one point. 

Tyler leaned back into his own seat again, though he kept his arm thrown across the back of Melissa’s chair. He’d gradually moved closer over the course of the meal, and now most of his words were directed at her rather than attempting to make conversation with the couple on the opposite side of the table. She’d allowed him to occupy some of her personal space, mostly because whoever set up the tables didn’t account for the size of most of the guests. Tyler was by no means the largest man in attendance, and even he was uncomfortable. This was a wedding full of former semi-professional hockey players, and they were squished into settings made for an average-sized person. 

Kirsten shot Melissa another knowing look, along with a not-so-subtle wink, and she’d had enough. It was a little bit too much, and she needed to get away from the intensity of Tyler’s proximity and Kirsten’s attention. Tyler looked up at her confused when she shot to her feet, beginning to stand himself, but Melissa shook her head. “The lack of sleep from last night is getting to me. I’m just going to head back and take a nap, catch up with you for the rehearsal tonight?”

It was a flimsy excuse, and she knew it, but Melissa needed to get away from Tyler for a minute. She needed to breathe and let herself catch up with the wild sequence of events that had been the morning. Tyler didn’t look satisfied with her explanation, but he stayed in place when she sent him a pleading look. It was alarming how well he could read her after a few hours. 

Melissa was still thinking about the concern in Tyler’s eyes as she cleared the makeup off her face, and they were the last picture her brain conjured up as she fell into a fitful sleep.

[atc74]

Collaboration Challenge Contest

Yes, you read that right. 

C O N T E S T !

I don’t think we really need a reason to celebrate each other or ourselves, but I have plenty of reasons: good friends and a team of supportive and kickass writers, a creative mind (sometimes), the 4 year anniversary of my first fic on September 8, and approximately 4500 followers, which will never cease to amaze me. 

I have wanted to do another collaboration for a really long time, but could never find the right premise. But I DID! And I am not keeping it to myself - NO - I am sharing it with all of you! So let’s get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?

Win a chance to collab with seasoned writers, including myself, @amanda-teaches, @iwantthedean, @alleiradayne, @crashdevlin, and @supernatural-jackles​.

Each writer will have their own chapter in this new, still developing series!

The true collaboration would be us, as seasoned writers, helping you, the winner, as a beta, and basically anything you need for one fic (not series) of your own. So rules, right?

Pick a prompt/song:

20 prompts - submit a drabble of 750 words or less - OR - 

10 song prompts - submit a one shot of 3K words or less

Limited to 30 participants

Post your fic with the tag #angelina’s collab challenge contest, then also SUBMIT the fic to me to ensure I get it. Deadline is October 8 - yes I know this is a tight turn around, but for the series that is being planned, there is no better date; the beginning of The End.

PLEASE DO NOT TAG ANY OF THE JUDGES (@amanda-teaches, @iwantthedean, @alleiradayne, @crashdevlin, and @supernatural-jackles​) IN YOUR POSTS to make this impartial!! Don’t forget to tag me!

You must send me an ASK to participate with your prompt and pairing

Pairings will be limited for the purposes of this challenge contest: Dean x Reader/OFC, Sam x Reader/OFC

NO ships will be allowed for this challenge contest 

This should be a one shot/drabble only and NOT part of a series. 

Judging Criteria (I am looking for specific aspects for the writers that will be choosen)

Punctuation, spelling, grammar, plot, and flow matter

Demonstrate the strength/dynamic of a relationship (between the brothers, brother x reader/OFC, all three/four)

Organization and execution of the plot

Character development/motivation

Substance 

(Drabbles) Your prompt must be used in the drabble 

(Song) The song must be featured somehow in the fic itself, not just posted lyrics, or playing in the background; work the lyrics into the dialogue if they fit, let the song set the tone of the fic

Prizes:

3-5 writers will be chosen by an impartial panel of judges (they will not know who has submitted the drabble and I am not a judge) to participate in the collaboration series. The number of winners depends on the number of entries, and total number of chapters for the planned series. 

5 additional writers will get a beta for a one-shot

Drabble Prompts (750 limit): 

I wouldn't want anyone else beside me. Even when things get hard, especially when things get hard, you're the one I want in my corner. @justagirlinafandomworld​ 

You make me feel like I'm good enough @fangirlxwritesx67​ Sam x Reader

You need to wake up because I can't do this without you. @deanwanddamons​ Dean x Reader

I need you to fight for me. @smol-and-grumpy​ 

You won't drive me away. I'm not going to leave you or abandon you. @wi-deangirl77​ Dean x Reader

I can't really understand what you are feeling, but I can offer my compassion.

You deserve someone who puts in the effort to make you feel happy and confident.

You're part of the family now, don't ever think you're not. @cajunquandry​ Dean x Reader

The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop. @our-jensen-ackles-love​ dean x reader

I can't give up on you, so please don't give up on yourself. 

Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that. @deans-baby-momma​ Dean x Reader

“Fuck, I wish I could give you one more kiss, to feel your warmth, to see you smile… I miss you so much.” @waywardbaby Dean x Reader

Hey, I know you're hurting...but you're not alone, okay?

I will protect you with my life

I don't have a choice...I never did @idreamofplaid​ Sam x Reader

Maybe I'm meant to be alone @cleighwrites​ Sam x Reader

You're just not the same anymore...

I wasn't ready to say goodbye

When are you going to realize I don't care?  @ezilyamuzed Dean x Reader

Stop telling me you're okay @msmarvelouswinchester Dean x Readestagirl

Song Prompts (3k limit):

Head Above Water - Avril Lavigne 

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi @a-winchester-fairytale​ Dean x Reader

Knockin' On Heavens Door - Kim Rhodes (& Jason Manns version)

We've Got Tonight - Bob Segar @waywardbeanie​ Dean x Reader

Colder Weather - Zac Brown Band - @janicho88​ Dean x Reader

Some of It  - Eric Church

I Shall Be Released - Jason Manns & Rob Benedict

All Our Own - Radio Company @waywardnerd67​ Dean x Reader

Drift Away - Uncle Kracker

The Rose - Bette Midler @jensengirl83​ Dean x Reader

**** UPDATE ****

Ultimately, we came to the conclusion that all submissions should be ‘raw’ and not scrubbed by a beta. Our reasoning for this is that we want to see you showcase your talent as a writer. As a writer that uses at least one beta on a regular basis (as most writers do), I certainly support the use of a beta for everything. Except this.

Your comment about ... “concept, character development, emotional depth, etc...” that is where YOUR talent comes in. If you do not feel your writing is strong enough on its own to support those points, you may want to reconsider.

You are allowed to use online tools, such as Grammerly, to help with the basics. And please feel free to ‘consult’ for any technical aspects of your fic. That being said, we are trusting you all to use the honor system here.

****

So that is it folks. Tagging my peeps and a few extras, but a signal boost is much appreciated as always! @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @flamencodiva @blacktithe7  @amanda-teaches @hannahindie  @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @manawhaat @crashdevlin  @emoryhemsworth  @fangirlxwritesx67 @winchesterprincessbride @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83 @anathewierdo  @winchest09 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural-jackles @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​ @superfanficnatural @evansrogerskitten @whatareyousearchingfordean @luci-in-trenchcoats​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @princessmisery666​ @deans-baby-momma​ @mummybear @just-another-busy-fangirl @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @laurakay91 @katymacsupernatural @jawritter @katehuntington @malfoysqueen14 @smol-and-grumpy @plaidstiel-wormstache @crispychrissy @saxxxology @muchamusedaboutnothing @stusbunker @pinknerdpanda @manawhaat @waywardnerd67 @percywinchester27 @ladywinchester1967 @docharleythegeekqueen @arazialotis @shy-violet-soul​@bamby0304 @janicho88 @sofreddie @talesmaniac89 

**Divider credit goes to @talesmaniac89​

[terriblebloggerrob]

My CPA Journey

I originally decided to start my CPA (certified public accountant) journey in my senior year of high school in 2001. Unknown at the time, my inattentive ADHD derailed me in college. I still managed to graduate in 2009 with my B.S. in accounting and started work at a public accounting firm. Still needing about 20 credit hours, I enrolled in a B.S. in finance program in 2011 and in 2013 I was then eligible to sit for the 4 CPA exam sections.

My whole post high school life I was always reminded on how hard it was to pass the exam sections and since each section cost around $230, I didn't want to register for the exams until I was ready. With ADHD, I realized I would never be ready. When you qualify to sit for the exam you have to register and take at least 1 section of the exam within 18 months of being registered... so at the 17th month I took my first section, Audit in 2017. I failed. This was the section I was supposed to be an "Expert" in since I handled audit matters at my firm. This devastated me and drove me into depression.

In January of 2018 I purchased Rogers CPA review program that included video lectures, text book and practice exams. I took AUD again in October of 2018. I studied about 30+ hours watching mostly Rogers lectures and I passed! I didn't find out right away, after around 40+ days of waiting, I found out right after dropping my kids off with their Nana. I wish I'd found out just an hour earlier so I could have celebrated with them but nonetheless, I was so excited.

This left me with three more sections to pass (BEC, FAR and REG). I was motivated. When you pass a section, you have to pass the remaining three within 18 months or you lose credit for the one that you passed 18 months ago. Obviously, this meant I would quickly schedule the remaining exams ASAP.

Wrong... I waited about 8 months before taking another section, BEC and I failed. I studied less than 2 hours for that section. Then in October of 2019 I passed FAR (I studied 30+ hours). However, I scheduled my REG just two weeks after FAR and I was so burned out that I didn't study at all for REG and I failed it. So at this point I passed 2 exams out of 5 total attempts with my BEC retake coming up in December. I failed my BEC retake (studied 2 hours). Now I passed 2 exams out of 6 total attempts.

I was distraught, my window to passing the remaining two (BEC and REG) was quickly closing before I'd lose credit for passing AUD (meaning I'd have to retake AUD). I'd have to pass the remaining two by March of 2020 and if I failed just one of them, I wouldn't have enough time to retake them before losing credit on my AUD exam. I was depressed and demotivated, believing I was a crappy accountant and dumb as a bag of rocks. Compounding my negative emotional state was the fact that now my Rogers exam prep course subscription was now passed the 18 month window that I purchased a couple years ago. Additionally, the fact that I didn't really use Rogers that much in studying for REG or BEC prior to this point just fed into my depression. I called them and they graciously allowed me to have a 6 month extension. I finally took advantage of those video lectures this time!

I then changed my mindset, I went full throttle and scheduled my BEC exam for the middle of January of 2020 and my REG exam at the middle of February. I decided I was going to study 30+ hours for each, came up with a detailed study strategy and watched hours of the Rogers video and audio lectures while taking notes.

It takes about 20-30 days to get your score back after taking a section of the exam, this period of time was excruciating. My ADHD couldn't properly handle this period of time. My BEC score release was a day after the Super Bowl. I am a HUGE Chiefs fan, this is the Super Bowl they WON!! The very next day I found out I passed BEC with a total of 10 hours of study time. I was on cloud 9, I was motivated. I was happy, really happy!

This momentum propelled me through my study time with REG which I took on February 13th wearing my Chiefs dress shirt. If I failed, I'd have to retake not only REG but also AUD.

On February 24, 2020 I learned that I passed REG (with 20+ hours of study time). It took me 8 attempts to pass the 4 sections and yes, I know if I'd spend at least 30 hours studying for each of them then I'd most likely would have passed all on the first attempt. However, I'm not built like that, and working 50+ hours a week in public accounting at the time didn't help either.

To be fully honest, I didn't accomplish any work between February 13th and February 24th as I refreshed the score release website at least a million times. I've finally done it. This realization didn't sink in right away, I was so overwhelmed with emotion, joy and relief.

The process wasn't fully over yet, as I had to wait for the paperwork from the state's accountancy board and to finish the experience verification process and complete the ethics 8 hour CPE course. Besides the lack of publicly available information on this process as a whole that left me with huge amounts of anxiety, I found it very difficult to focus at work. Ethics exam was the worst part, having to get a 90% or higher just seemed tedious to me. Finally forced myself to take it in April and was officially awarded my CPA license on May 15th of 2020.

My only wish would be to have my Mother alive and with me to share in the celebration and because I know this would have made her so happy. However, some of my good friends here threw me a surprise party and I am so blessed to be surrounded by awesome people like them!

Normally this would result in me attending the initiation of new CPA members at the state Captiol but due to Covid, this was instead turned into a youtube digital video of just my picture and my name.

Looking back on it now, I am very proud of my journey. Finally accomplishing a goal that I've had for almost 20 years and at the same time seeing my beloved Chiefs win the Super Bowl is a memory that will never leave me.

My only advise for those trying to get their CPA is to take care of your mental health, be proactive in trying to avoid burn out and do not let the statistics intimidate your mindset. Use a study strategy that works best for you. For me, the video lectures was a far superior study method than spending hours on practice exam questions. But that's just for me and ignore the critics.

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 1

Okay first of all, did we all coincide the Taiqrow Week with Father’s Day... accidentally? Because that’s secretly genius. 

Secondly, whoops we’re also meshing with Qrowin week - hope y’all are okay to share!

Finally, let’s get down to business. Hi y’all, hope you haven’t missed me too much. Hopefully I can make up for my silence with this absolute beast of a fanfic. This is going to be a single, interconnected story matching the prompts of the entire week. I hope those of you who choose to read it, will enjoy it!

Day 1: Tattoos for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overrall

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Marks

~

The day Taiyang walked into his shop, before even a single word was spoken, he knew.

It wasn’t from any particular mannerism. Everyone’s body language was different. A chattering mouth. Averted eyes. A tapping foot. A drooped posture. In the short time Qrow had been doing this, he’d learned no single action could encapsulate the variety in which people expressed their shame.

Yet, not a single one could escape the stench. It was a foul thing. Sharp and smokey, like a tire fire on a junkyard, it lacquered over an omega’s scent so completely that it was near impossible to catch a whiff of the true smell that was originally there.

Even now, as Qrow inspected the damage upon his former friend’s bare back, mere inches away from the man’s scent glands, he couldn’t pick out a hint of the sunflowers and fresh soil that was Tai. Nothing left except the reek of burnt rubber and dishonor.

He didn’t call attention to it, just like he didn’t call attention to the shake in his friend’s shoulders as he placed a hand over the first mark. “This is extensive.”

“I know. But, I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Even as he turned his head to look at him, Tai hunched over a bit, and the brand seared across his shoulder blades stretched with the movement. “You’ll help me, right?”

Qrow’s eyes flitted between watery eyes and stained skin where the word SLUT, all in caps like some mockery of a grand declaration, taunted his every decision since their falling out and left the taste of bile on his tongue.

“Of course.” He promised.

~

It was widely thought that it was a farmer that first came up with branding back during the Early Modern period. Having been “inspired” by the tagging of the cattle which kept them in order, the alpha decided to do the same to omegas, ascertained the same outcome would follow. The practice was later adopted by prisons and other corrective facilities. Back then, it was merely a way of keeping track of those who had been in and out of the system by searing the skin with an iron that had the center’s insignia on it.

Advancements to the printing press and mail systems did away with that particular need, but while the jails abolished the practice, reformatories did not, releasing studies that claimed the procedure resulted in more ‘proper’ and ‘desired’ behaviors in omegas and were absolutely critical to full rehabilitation.  Despite newer evidence showing these original claims were likely falsified simply for convenience and often actually had a devastating effect on an omega’s psyche, the three-century long old policy had yet to be abolished from the system.

The most the outcries had done the past few decades was change the method on which the ‘brand’ was applied. Instead of an iron, it was done with a tattoo needle and instead of an insignia, it became a single word that was like a permanent reminder of what landed the omega in the facility to begin with. The stench was caused by the use of the chemically enhanced ink that made it impossible for laser technology to fully remove.

In short, if an omega wanted the mark gone, their only choice was to cut out their own skin. Most, like his mother, accidentally killed themselves trying.

Which led to where Qrow was today, trying to shake things up in the only way he knew how. So, he jumped off society’s grid, took up a needle and his drawing skills, and turned the marks into works of art. More importantly, he gave the omegas who came to his door a way to recover and take back their lives.

He just never thought Tai would be one of them.

Once he’d taken the pictures he needed and Tai’s shirt was back on, things were relaxed enough he could brew some tea. As he handed the other man his cup, Qrow finally asked, “So, how’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard.” He replied, fingers wrapping around the porcelain. “The omegas back at the reformatory would whisper before bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were talking about you.”

Qrow froze, trying to hide his trepidation. “Oh? They say my name?”

Tai snorted. “Not your name, but a name.” His expression turned cheeky. “Don’t worry though. Only someone who knows Harbinger used to be your Relics & Wyverns character could put the pieces together.”

“Ah, can it!” He barked as a flush worked its way up his neck. Still, tension drained from him. While there were no laws that specifically stated what an omega was required to do with their mark after their rehabilitation was complete, if he was caught tampering with it for them, he knew the courts could claim he was willfully interfering with a person’s emotional stability. Might even get him on a few counts of practicing mental health care without a license too.

Still, he didn’t particularly want to be sent to the slammer, which was why he worked so hard to keep to the underground. Never told anyone his name. Moved often. Kept minimal contact with clients. Whatever it took to make sure only the people who needed to find him could.

“I’m glad that you’re doing alright for yourself.” Tai said, giving a cursory glance to the shoddy working space that doubled as his apartment. Beyond his tattoo kit, he rarely took much with him when he relocated. Sometimes he got lucky on the accommodations and the place would already be partially furnished, other times he had to make do with what he could afford from the nearest thrift store.

This place was one of those latter times. He had a mattress on the torn up box spring with a chipped nightstand beside it, a circular, rickey table with two chairs for the dining room, a fairly barren kitchen area, and a slightly beat-up leather recliner for the clients.

It wasn’t hard to see Tai was really reaching as he said, “Your place is… nice?”

It was Qrow’s turn to snort. “At least be honest and tell me I live in a shithole.”

“I was not going to – okay, yeah it is kind of a shithole. But, you’re eating okay and everything, right?”

What an omega. “Yes mom, I’m getting my three squares a day and I’m even brushing my teeth before bed.” He lent back, the plastic chair creaking underneath as he did so. “But you didn’t exactly come here to critique my living conditions. Think there’s a lot more important stuff to talk about, don���t you?”

Suddenly, the tea was much more interesting than his face. “Yeah. Right. Um, guess there’s a lot to catch you up on, huh? You don’t even know about-”

“Whoa, hold up a sec.” He quickly interrupted. “Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t ask for any of my clients’ stories unless they feel like sharing. Some do, some don’t. But my help doesn’t come with any strings attached.” He met his gaze, stressing the next part carefully, “Even if they’re friends, okay?”

Tai still seemed to hesitate. “But, don’t you want to know about Yang?”

Of course, he did. He had about a thousand and one questions whirling through his head. But that didn’t matter right now. “You ready to talk about her?”

For the second time that day, tears shimmered in Tai’s eyes. He looked away quickly, saying nothing.

Yeah. He figured as much.

“Then no.” Qrow cleared his throat some. “Besides, I’m still a total disaster when it comes to handling people when they cry.”

That one, at least, earned him a weak chuckle.

“Some things never change?” Tai said with a sniff, rubbing the corner of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“If it ain’t broke…” He shrugged. “Anyways, what I meant was, how do you want to change up that lil’ blemish a’yours?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“Turn it into a single design. But, I’ve never had to work on one so large before. That thing’s taking up about half of your back. Still doable, just… more difficult.” It was easy to busy his designs enough the word got lost under all the rest. Working on a scale of this size though, there weren’t many things he could think of that would both look nice and cover up the word. “Not to mention, we’ll have to take a lot of breaks, so your skin can heal.”

“How long do you think it would take?”

“Well, with three weeks between each session and the scale and details… probably nine to twelve months?”

Tai’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no I mean…” He sighed. “I was just, kind of hoping it would be done before October, is all. Before the kids come home.”

Kids?!

As in plural?!

Qrow had to bite his tongue to physically stop himself from breaking his own rule. Took a deep, steadying breath.

Okay. That was six months away. There was no way. Unless…

“Well, we could make it four separate designs. One for each letter. That way I could work on one side and then the other while it’s healing. If we meet every week, should be doable. Gonna be some long hours under the needle for you though.”

Tai lit up just like the sun he was named after. “I can handle it. I’ll do anything. Oh-! We could even make it four dragons, couldn’t we?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. Give me your scroll deets. I’ll work up some designs over the next few days and send them to you.” As he pulled out his device to input the information, he added, “We gotta work out a schedule too. What days are RO?”

“She visits on Tuesdays and Saturdays right now. It’ll go down to once a week pretty soon. I’m also TA-ing at Sanctum Middle, so weekdays are pretty full.”

It was all par for the course. Even after doing time at the reformatory, omegas still had to have frequent visits from their rehabilitation officer, to make sure they were keeping a steady job and homelife. That meant good evaluations from his superiors and a living space that looked like not even a speck of dust had had a chance to touch down. This was especially important for omegas like Tai, who would have to fight for every top mark he got. If he failed to, the RO would claim he was still unfit to raise his own children and keep them in the fostering system.

Qrow knew that was the reason for the six-month time limit. He had no doubt that once Tai was out of parole and had his pups back, he’d be hightailing it out of the kingdom. But for the RO to still be visiting at that frequency… “Did you come looking for me right after you got out?”

“I-” The tea had become interesting again. And cold. “Yeah. I knew you were working out of Mistral, and Atlas allows for transfers to Argus.”

At this rate, his tongue was probably going to have indents from his incisors. Once he knew he wasn’t going to start prying or, worse yet, shouting at Tai - because really how stupid could he be?! – he opened his mouth and said, “So, Sundays then?”

For the first time in nearly six years, Tai smiled at him. “Sounds perfect.”

~

For the next few days, Qrow did nothing but draw. Whether it was with a buzzing needle or a pencil, his hand was rarely empty. Even as he downed his morning coffee or spun his suppertime noodles onto his fork, his other hand was moving over a sheet of paper, his muse on overdrive as he tried to pick out the perfect designs for each letter. By nightfall, he was sending at least half a dozen pages full of sketches to Tai, then checking his phone every five minutes as he impatiently anticipated his reply.

It didn’t actually matter where they started, because once they decided on which letter was going first, Qrow’s focus would narrow to the second one over. The tricky thing was, Tai had always been the type who was simple to please – well before a reformatory could ever drill that lesson into him. Even when they were young, whether it was a question of what game they wanted to play or what food they wanted to eat, Tai would almost always just grin and say ‘whatever you want’. Which meant, every sketch was perfect and Qrow had to work twice as hard to actually find something he truly fell in love with.

He knew he finally struck gold for S when Tai figured out how to use the circling tool on his scroll and sent the shot back with an exuberantly loud ‘THIS ONE’, followed by a horrendous amount of exclamation points.

Qrow had never felt prouder.

It was a small effort to resketch the piece in full and line it. Adding color was more challenging, as he had to balance what looked nice with the limitations of his inks. But leaving it without was absolutely not an option. Not for someone who used to decorate his walls with paintings of tropical beaches and autumn-locked forests and had had a Crayola box spectrum of begonias sitting on his windowsill in his childhood room. Tai was a man who radiated a rainbow both in his life and in his heart. To try to dull that by leaving him in nothing but blacks and grays was a crime Qrow wasn’t willing to commit.

Besides, the design wouldn’t translate well without it.

So, he kept working at it until he knew it was just right. When the omega’s excitement only seemed to grow, he knew his labor was over.

[youralphabull4u]

more tormenting the cuck

Really looking forward to the weekend.  My princess is spending Friday night thru Sunday afternoon with me since her cuck is out of town for the weekend.  This will be the longest she’s stayed with me.  I’ve instructed her to tease her cuck and drop little comments like “my pussy is going to be so worn out by Sunday” and “I wonder how many times I’ll cum on that lovely cock of his this weekend”.  

I’ve been sending him texts and teasing thoughts as well.  Yesterday I sent him one that said “so looking forward to spending the weekend with my princess.  Sleeping next to her.  Waking up next to her.  Watching her walk around my house naked all weekend.”

He was very appropriate with his response telling me ”I hope you enjoy it very much.   The two of you deserve weekends like this and I know she is looking forward to it.  Thank you for providing the things she needs that I can’t.”

I pushed him to make him type it out....”what things do I provide that you can’t cuck?”

“Satisfying sex sir.  Only you fuck her like she needs, craves, and deserves.”

“That’s right cuck I do.  Do you feel like you should show me some appreciation for helping you out and making up for your inadequacies?”

“yes sir...I do appreciate it very much”

“I know you do cuck.  But I want you to show me.  Tell me how you want to show your gratitude cuck” (he knows what I want to hear)

“May I please come worship your cock sir?  Worship the only cock that pleases my wife?”

“Yes cuck I will allow you to make out with my cock for awhile but you won’t be getting my cum today.  I want you to edge me and make my balls swell with cum so that I can give your wife an extra large load tomorrow.”

“I understand sir.  What time do you want me to stop by?”

So from there we worked out the details and he come over at 4:00.  As instructed it came in and removed all of his clothes per my rules. (He’s always to be naked except his chastity cage in my house)

I was sitting at the kitchen table working on my laptop.  We exchanged our usual casual greetings and he was just standing there naked and awkward.  I tell him “I’m not finished just yet but you may get started on what you came here wanting to do”  As I said this I slightly opened one leg up toward him where he could see my cock hanging off the edge of my chair and inviting him to crawl under the table without any words necessary.

As he crawled under the table I nudged him with my legs to get myself comfortable and relaxed into the chair...still somewhat pretending to be more into what was on my computer than what he was doing.

His training has progressed nicely and he stays very much in role around me now.  He asked from under the table, “may I suck your cock sir?

I sort of mumbled back, “yeah sure”...in a dismissive tone as I basically ignored him.

As he worked my cock with his mouth it did start to get hard but I continued to not acknowledge his efforts as best I could.  I left him there for what probably seemed like forever to him but it was only 10 minutes or so before I told him I had finished my work and wanted to go to the sofa where I could relax.

I got up and headed for the den as he slowly tried to unfold his aching legs and crawl out from under the table.  I could hear him groaning a bit as he worked to stand up.  As he got to the den I was already kicked back on the sofa.  I tell him “stretch your legs for a minute then get back to work cuck”

I guess he felt ridiculous and awkward just standing there or just wanted my cock back in his mouth because he was just staring at it...not looking up toward my eyes at all...he slowly knelt back down and using nothing but his mouth (as trained) scooped my semi hard cock up and sucked it into his mouth.

As he sucked I picked up my phone and started to snap some pics and take some video.  Before hitting record I told him “I want you to take it deep as you can and keep it there for as long as you can....then when you pull off to catch you breath, look up at me and tell me you love sucking my cock”

As he nodded in understanding I hit record.  He wasn’t expecting me to be recording and stumbled a bit with his words when he looked up to me but got the words out.

While still recording I asked him, “why are you here sucking my cock today?”

He looked a bit confused, obviously not remembering right off the comment I made about working up a big load for his wife later but I loved his replay. 

“to worship and show gratitude to the only cock that pleases my wife” he said meekly.

“yes, cuck...that is one of your only sexually related purposes but why are you working my cock today...knowing I’m not letting you have my cum today?”

That triggered his memory....

“I’m here to edge you and make sure your balls and nice and full and swollen with cum so you can give my wife and extra large load of your seed tonight”

“that’s right cuck...glad I got that on video.  Me and your wife will have some fun watching that later.   You may continue”

From there I let him work my cock for awhile and actually could begin to feel an orgasm stirring in my balls.  As the feeling came on I would instruct him to slow down or just stop and hold my cock in his mouth.  I would flex a bit and apparently was oozing precum into his mouth because he would make a satisfied “mmmmm” sound and would start to gently suck.  

“you getting some precum cuck?”

He just nodded and moaned softly.

“you’re doing good cuck.  Is it nice to finally find a way to provide some sexual pleasure for someone besides yourself?”

He just nodded and kept sucking.

“You seem to be settling into your natural place as a cuckold very nicely.  It’s good that you have been able to accept that you are sexually useless to women and be gracious in allowing a better man take care of your wife’s sexual needs.”

He just nodded in acceptance looking up at me briefly.  I didn’t need a response.

“I know you haven’t cum in over a week but you do know it’s October...you and your cuck buddies get off on this whole ‘Locktober’ thing don’t you cuck.  Well I’ve chatted with your wife some about it and she was fine to let me go at this however I wanted to.  You will stay locked all of October with a weekly release for cleaning.  Max you will be out for 5 minutes.  You will come here for you cleaning.  I will have a large cup of ice water ready in case you can’t control your little dick.”

His eyes got a wide as I could see his brain trying to calculate the weeks he would go without orgasm as he stopped sucking my cock and stared at me.

“Your cuckold training is progressing nicely but it’s time we push your submission a bit further.  I want you to show me and your wife your commitment to making this kinky threeway poly relationship work.  Are you willing to endure extra time without orgasm to show us your commitment?”

“Yes sir” he said hesitantly “how long are you thinking?”

“You tell me cuck....the longest you have been without orgasm so far is 6 weeks.  I want you to make us believe that your orgasm and your own selfish sexual needs are not the reason you work to please us and make this relationship work long term.  I have a date in mind for your next orgasm but I want you to suggest one....and you better impress me.”

Was fun to watch him struggle with the answer...I can’t imagine all the factors he was considering as he contemplated. 

“Christmas sir?”

Wow, nice cuck, not bad....but I was thinking new years eve.  So you have something to look forward to but you know by now that your attitude around me and your wife is what’s important.

“yes sir, would you like for me to suck your cock some more now?”

“my balls are starting to ache...suck them into your mouth and massage them with your tongue”

As he worked my balls I stroked my cock just a bit then let it lay across his face.  It was a hot visual so I took another pic or two to humiliate him with later.

“It’s so hot that you have stood by submissively and watched me take over your sexual place in your marriage...and that you thank me for it.  Damn dude, I don’t totally understand what makes a cuckold tick but I’m loving the benefits.  Stand up cuck”

From his knees he struggled to stand because he had been on them awhile.  I stood up and helped him up...because I am a gentleman, lol.  

I still had my  phone in hand and told him a wanted one more pic.

“Look down cuck...see my cock next to yours in that cage?  That’s your new normal.  Your cock is insignificant and irrelevant to your role as a cuckold.  I’m taking this pic with both of our cocks together to remember this day.”

He continued to look down, not saying a word but I knew he was processing his reality. 

“I got to get somethings done around here cuck, we’ll see you later”

Really just indicating that it was time for him to leave.  He walked for the door and started to dress when he reached his neatly folded pile of clothes in the chair by the door.  

As he opened the door to leave i told him, “I’ll send you plenty of pics this weekend cuck.  Friday night we’re going to dinner then back here for some naked time.  Saturday night I’m dressing her super slutty and taking her to Trapeze (our local swingers club) My plan is to have her go in a gas station to get me a water or something while I pump gas.  Then I’m stopping again at a liquor store and we’ll go in together.  I’m glad that sort of thing gets blood pumping for all three of us.”

“OH, and I haven’t decided yet...will have to play it by ear, but I’m definitely fucking that tight ass of hers this weekend.”

I could see him try to formulate a response but there wasn’t really an appropriate one I guess.

He just said with a wave as he got in his car, “ok, have a fun weekend....and thanks for looking after her for me”

Why that’s so arousing to me I don’t know but it is....a totally defeated cuck accepting his place as a cuckold.  Knowing reality will hit him shortly as he drives home that ‘shit, I’m not going to cum for 3 months...and what have I done? I may not enjoy the feeling of my wife’s pussy around my cock ever again.’

Knowing all those thoughts make his little cock try to get hard and fight against his cage...I love that.

[airdropababy]

A Guide to the Wayward Guide Podcast: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter Guides: Prologue

Chapter Length: ~15 minutes

Release Dates:

Podcast: October 16, 2020

YouTube: December 25, 2020

Who Do We Hear From?

(Assume at this point that Artemis and Paul are heard from unless otherwise mentioned)

Established Characters: Madison, Desmond, Wallis, Garmin, and Barney

Guest Voices: Jon Matteson as Andrew, Jaime Taylor as tollbooth worker/gas station customer (I’m assuming on this- there are two one-line women characters but only one additional person credited)

Episode Transcript Link: Chapter 1

Placement in Continuity: Events take place between scenes from Episode 1 of the Youtube show and a little after the end of the episode.

Chapter Breakdown:

Intro: The theme is FOMO (fear of missing out)

Artemis muses about how fears usually keep us safe but she feels FOMO led to her decision to follow the Connor Creek story instead of their original idea and she worried she’d regret the decision when she committed to it.

She also confirms they had barely vetted Ryan when they decided to follow the story.

After the Theme Song Plays: Artemis and Paul drive to Connor Creek, their car dies and the talkative Sheriff Madison helps them get to town before they discover Ryan, their story lead and Madison's brother, has been killed.

Paul introduces himself as: “Get ready for take-off, I’m her co-paul-it, Paul Shue-Horyn.”

Paul jokes about how very small Connor Creek is, confirming the town doesn’t even have a Starbucks.

Artemis and Paul explain further that they’ve been in the business long enough to have honed their ability to sense a good story when it’s in front of them and that did factor into their decision to investigate Connor Creek for Ryan Reynolds.

They play audio from their long drive to Connor Creek in the mountains of California, mostly Paul singing “American Pie” or asking “Would you rather...?”-type questions while Artemis is grouchy and car sick.

They briefly talk with a man at a gas station only to find out the rest of the drive is on small winding roads around a mountain range.

They still do not know why their car broke down.

This is when they meet “Sheriff Madison”, who shares a lot about herself and her family’s history with being sheriff in the town as she drives them into town.

She tells them her brother goes against the grain like their father did, but never names her brother.

She also says the town is quiet other than the city council election- one that even has two human candidates this year.

Artemis heavily implies she didn’t know if she could trust Sheriff Madison yet.

Their drive into town gets diverted further when Madison is called to assist Wallis and Garmin with diverting traffic away from a turtle crossing a road.

Artemis explains the layout of Connor Creek and where their lodging, the Dead Canary, was.

They confirm the Dead Canary is almost always empty and only Desmond, Quinn, and “the town drunk” were in it upon arrival.

Then they recap the info they get from Desmond about the Reynolds family from the YouTube episode- It’s still only then that they find out Madison’s last name in Reynolds.

Then they somberly and somewhat graphically describe what the crime scene outside the Dead Canary was like once they got the sound equipment right after the YouTube episode ended.

You hear Madison sobbing in the background

Artemis immediately changes her mind about recording such a moment as soon as Paul turns on the equipment.

Paul believes no human could’ve caused Ryan’s injuries.

They explain they realized how dangerous a situation they were in now that the man that brought them to town was dead but they felt a need to continue investigating.

Next Time:

A voicemail is played of Barney rambling about how he’s got what no one else has got and to not listen to Ags.

He also assumes Artemis and Paul are married.

He accidentally threatens them before correcting himself “FOMO be gone!”

What Else Do We Learn About Connor Creek?

Most businesses are on the main drag of Center Road, which crosses in the middle of town with Main Street. The Dead Canary is at the far end of Center Road.

There are only four roads total in Connor Creek according to Madison.

Madison has been sheriff for eight years and both her grandfather and great-grandfather were sheriff of the town before her.

Madison’s father wasn't sheriff but an actor that played a sheriff once in a film, which the town declared “good enough”.

Madison’s father also put on a one-man marionette version of Pirates of Penzance at some point.

Wallis and GPS have the ability to radio the sheriff directly.

Ryan’s injuries were much more gruesome than what was shown.

What Else Do We Learn About Artemis and Paul?

Artemis gets car sick.

Paul was physically ill at the sight of Ryan’s body.

What Do We Learn About the Universe the Show Takes Place In?

Artemis and Paul stop at a gas station and speak to a man named Andrew who runs the gas station with his boyfriend. This is a reference to Solve It Squad, where the Squad stops at a gas station on their way to the hotel they’re investigating and speak with a cowboy who works at a gas station and has a boyfriend named Andrew. So, in a way, we now have Jon Matteson and Brian Rosenthal playing boyfriends in this extended universe but not sharing scenes.

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

Poppies [B.H. x you]

Request:

Inspiration: It’s No Reason by The Church

Word Count: 2750  Warnings: reference of abuse and angst.

Written Date: 1/20-3/10/2020 Posted Date: 3/10/2020

[MASTERLIST]

August 12. Sunday. 11:56 a.m.

After a couple days of trailing after his father and his new little family in their Chevy truck, Billy pulled up in front of the place they’d now be calling home. Billy’s bones ached from sitting for a prolonged period of time and his eyelids had been heavy from the constant blare of the sun, and yet he thought their new humble abode was just about the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. With several window panes bordering a sun parlour and a low roof that suggested the lack of stairs inside, Billy knew it was totally Susan’s style and not something his father would have picked out had it just been him and his teenage son.

The sun parlour was meant for Susan’s obsession with lilies and begonias. There would soon be a wooden bench with flowered cushions just for her to perch on with one of her many melodramatic books about gossip and heartbreak. And with only one story to worry about, Susan would silence her chirps about stupid superstitions about staircases and ladders as if staircases and ladders were the same thing. Yes, he could see it all so clearly.

Billy felt drowsy, but he wasn’t blind. He knew all about the intentions his father had when purchasing this house, beside the new job opportunity, before reaching for the handle of his Camaro. The daintiness of the house, the seclusion of moving across country, was all just a ploy to keep another woman from slipping through his father’s aching embrace. His father couldn’t control Billy’s free spirited mother, so he chased after a much more timid woman who his ex-co-worker cheated on. Susan just so happened to already have a child his father hadn’t known about ‘til it was too late.

Walking up to the front door just a beat behind his father and the two redheads, and just about ready for a twelve-hour nap, Billy somehow picked up on the flutter of lavish curtains of lace and chintz from the house next door.

A peeping neighbor was curious about them, yet his father was much more interested in the plants rooted beneath the neighbor’s window.

“What the hell are those things?”

“I think they’re flowers,” Max threw in her two cents.

With a small, soft turn of her lips, Susan added, “I’m sure they’ll be absolutely beautiful once they bloom.”

Billy will already half-forgotten this exchange of meaningless words meant to fill in the silence and the curious shadow of his new neighbor until…

October 3. Wednesday. 2:31 a.m.

Sweat accumulated on his forehead as Billy awoke with a start. His sheets stuck against hist bare limbs as a hazy memory of an ocean wave toppling over him and a blurred smile clouded his vision. Yet, getting up, he managed to locate his lighter in the strewn jeans he’d worn the day before and place a fresh cigarette between his lips and another behind his ear before sneaking past dad and Susan’s bedroom.

His palms were clammy and chills prickled his arm hair as he stepped out into the night. Standing in the center of the cement path in sleep shorts and a T-shirt, he figured the cigarettes he planned on having would be enough to take his mind off the old breeze and old memories.

Except, he hadn’t planned on having an audience.

She was sitting on the steps of the next door porch. Knees jutted out in front of her, arms tucked across her midsection, and eyes already set on him.

Billy only knew a couple things about her. She and her grandparents were his neighbors, she went to school with him, and she flinched…embarrassingly a lot.

Stubbing out his half-burned cigarette, Billy retreated back inside away from the girl, but not before glancing at the plants his father wouldn’t quit pestering everyone about.

Nothing about them had changed. Still green and still very ugly.

October 16. Tuesday. 2:10 a.m.

Days snail by and the weather has remained stagnant, yet again Billy found himself venturing outside before the bird could sing. His mattress had felt too lumpy against the ridges of his spine and the sheets too tampered to find any peace. And there she was again for the fourth time in the past thirteen days, burning holes into the moisture of the patchy lawn before her.

The cold shoulder was a kick to the shin. Billy’d grown accustomed to the thought of having someone to share the cleansing breeze of sorrow they didn’t plan on speaking of. Billy had the idea that he couldn’t be the only one whose demons kept him from snuggling under the covers and drifting off until the alarm clock said so. No one in their right mind found peace in the shadows of orange street lamps without worse occurrences taking place behind doors…or the insides of skulls.

So, he found himself scrounging through the block of ice that’s never been broken through, not even after the welcoming block party. Not when this girl’s “papa” borrowed his father’s lawnmower. Not when Susan and “nana” swapped pot roast recipes. And, definitely not when she came over with a textbook held against her chest to tutor Max at their dining table.

“You make this a habit or something?”

Her delicate eyelids fluttered before she realized Billy’s figure stood in front of her, scuffing his sneakers at the gravel.

His eyes long adjusted to the dim glow of the street lamp, he studied the ribbon struggling to hold on to her hair and the oversized jacket that swallowed her frame. She was still wearing the same outfit from the day before. He only knew because she had been guiding Max through a couple practice problems while he was curling weights to MTV after school.

“You one of them ‘watch the sunrise’ type of gals or something?”

Hooking the stretched sleeves of her sweater over her thumbs, she responded, “Sometimes.”

Within the frame of a breath, Billy had taken a seat beside her on the steps while his hands rested in his pockets, resisting the urge to comment on the leap of her shoulders. It was easy, he managed to wire his lips shut last night when his father had halted her from walking out their front door without the ten dollars she earned from tutoring. Her chin had tucked into her chest with the flicker of her lids before the older Hargrove shoved the bill into her clammy palms.

“Isn’t it kind of early for that?”

She shrugged, failing to convince anyone, even herself, that there wasn’t a care in her bones.

“Do your grandparents know you come out here?” They reminded Billy of his own grandparents, the ones who’d welcomed him with warm biscuits and a spare bed just before his father tore him away from his last shred of contentment.

“Do your parents know you do the same?” she retorted.

“Touché.”

Billy stayed next to her, never brushing against her for fear of sending her running back into the house, for a few moments longer before getting back up.

Glancing down at her, he motioned towards his house. “I should go, you know, before my dad wakes and freaks.”

She nodded twice. “Okay.”

The weight of his shoulders dragged him down just a little bit more as he spared her another glance before shoving his hands in his pockets and trekking back home. He never stayed outside for long, usually only for the span of a burning cigarette or two. Never as long as her, who’d already be out there far before frost greets his skin and who’d remain out there long after he fell back in the abyss of his bed.

And right before he silently jiggled the pestilent doorknob, he noticed that those odd, not-yet-ready, flowers were beginning to crack open like the release of bubbles from clams.

October 18. Thursday. 3:47 a.m.

Another forty-eight hours passed, a full moon encompassed the dark sky and she was still wearing the same loose sweater he’d seen her in outside of fourth period. The flimsy material still threatened to slip off her shoulders and fall in a red pool around her feet. The bags beneath her downcast eyes contrasted further against the skin of her cheeks, yet she agreed to join him on a walk with him without much convincing.

It was just a stroll around their expansive block, and her top lip hardly separated from its thicker sister while twin arms remained crisscrossed around her ribs like Greek ancient pillars. Billy hadn’t expected anything more for she never really made attempt in being friendly with him nor he with her, not when the street lamps sat cold beneath the sun.

So, when her steps came to a close despite only having twenty-seven cement blocks to go before reaching their neighboring homes, muttering, “It’s not you,” Billy stumbled on his own feet. Yet, she fished forth, steadying him with the softness of her palms. and he gave her a simple nod, “I get it.”

The smile didn’t cut into the plush pillows of her cheeks, creating denudation, but the prudent glaze of her pupils softened. “Not a lot of people do.”

The stroll continued in silence, and skipping over his house Billy walked her to her porch. She climbed the three steps, with an appreciative set of eyes, about to twist the knob and enter the shadowed mass of her grandparents’ timely living room, but Billy spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

Glancing over the red cotton of her shoulder, she responded, “What?”

His foot settled on the first step, “What’s keeping you?”

She fully faced him with her arms down her sides. “What do you mean?”

He ascended those steps with his hands in his pockets, always in his pockets around her vicinity. “You’re always out here. Cold, shivering, instead of in there,” he nodded towards her front door, “warm, maybe with a teddy bear or two. What’s keeping you from your bed?”

“Nothing in there, I love papa and nana.” She shrugged, lowering her head before settling on “It’s complicated.” She sucked in a deep breath between her teeth, “Thanks for walking me home, Billy,” and retreated, softly closing the door on him.

October 22. Monday. 4:03 a.m.

Billy wiped at the beaded moisture on his upper lip before resting his head on his hands. The dream itself vanished upon the flicker of his lids, leaving behind only fragments of images. A dazzling smile. A wave crashing over. But his semi-conscious brain grasped at the emotions the dream had stirred. It was the same thing over and over again.

Shrugging on a crumpled jacket from the floor and slipping on a pair of sneakers, Billy creeped down the hallway towards the front door with ease. After all the interrupted nights in this new house, he knew which floorboards creaked and strained under his stature. Anything that could give him an advantage around his father he took mental notes of.

He didn’t expect to find her sitting on the single step in front of his door or expect to see a bounce in her race to stand on her two feet when he made his appearance. The door softly clicked behind him.

“I was hoping you’d show up.” She spoke gently.

Even her expression wasn’t so pitiful or down in the dumps. Her jaw sat relaxed with parted lips. A sense of wonder had swept every unshed tear in her lashes and the caution that was so natural in her stare. Billy even took notice of her short tennis skirt and the slouch socks that accompanied her white sneakers and how she resembled a cheery teenaged girl for once, like a girl-next-door should be.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, glancing east and west end of the neighborhood.

“I have something to tell you,” she guided a confused Billy down the cement step and across their moist lawns until they stopped in front of the main window of her house. “Look. The poppies finally bloomed.”

And they did. Those ridiculous green bulbs that stuck out like a wallflower among a popular crowd were no longer that but…nice little flowers with graceful necks and blushing petals. Poppies, so that’s what these buggers were all along.

“See? They aren’t so ugly are they?” She glanced up at him with a playful expression. Her lips quirked and an eyebrow raised.

“I never said anything.” His muscular arms crossed against his chest.

A huff of quiet laughter released under her breath. “No, but I’ve heard your dad say a thing or two. He’s not very quiet.”

He stilled and the playful banter isn’t so fun anymore. “You can hear him?”

Her head dropped to her chest and the hair behind her ears fell free. “Sometimes.”

Fists fall to his sides, clenching, and he hides them in his pockets like he usually does around her. And, yet, embarrassment spread a fire across his face. It wasn’t her fault that these houses were so old their walls appeared paper thin. It wasn’t her fault his dad found a reason to express his disappointment in his son every chance he got nor raise his palms with quick ease. Life just freaking sucked sometimes.

But, he didn’t want her thinking he was angry at her or anything because she overheard a scuffle or two. By spending what little time with her after sunlight, he knew her more than any other person at their school did. He knew she couldn’t sleep without demons sinking their claws into her skin and dragging her through mud, like him. They were far past formalities.

Fingers tickled her palm before lacing together with her own, and she realized Billy was holding her hand.

“Poppies, you said?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“They’re,” he cleared imaginary lint from his throat, “nice.”

“I grew them myself,” she offered. “I found out the first bouquet papa gave to nana were poppies.”

“Really?” His soft gaze fell on her.

She nodded once more with a pull at her lip before returning the look.

One day she’d tell him about the anxiousness that gnawed on her scalp as the date of her father’s release draws near. She’d tell him how his own father’s forced acts of kindness reminded her of her own whenever one of his work pals would come over to watch the game. She’d tell him that she’d only been living with her grandparents for a little less than four years. She was originally from out of state, where the clouds didn’t hold the sky hostage. One day she’d tell him that there was a time when her papa and nana only knew what she looked like based on a photo in their album when she was only 13 months old. That her father was sent to prison after Coach Annie spotted a trail of blue smudges trailing towards her shoulder. How a scar from a scolding iron on her thigh was discovered after that.

Billy’s thumb brushed over her cold knuckles once more as he gazed upon the warm hues of the poppies, and she felt that one day she could tell him everything.

A/N: So sorry about the super long wait for this request! >.<