#so one of them gets to be my personal extra monitor for a bit)

[visdiefje]

Pour one out for my 18 or so (maybe more) year old second monitor. She went out with a bang (caused my apartment's first power surge during my time here and then stopped working for good)

[cameronsbabydoll]

SCC reader and Rafe at one of his fancy business dinners. For additional context, this is probably also probably when readers on her 2nd pregnancy, so she’s just irritable and uncomfortable but still showed up with Rafe to keep up appearances.

Rafe and his buddies are drunk chatting somewhere, talking about work and normal guy stuff. Then the conversation shifts to their home/personal lives ie marriages. One man is talking about his wife’s new promotion, the other one she’s started a book club, etc…they’re all drunk talking abt how they love their headstrong and independent wives. Rafe is just sitting there, nursing his drink, listening to how they talk about them, like they’re people.

He never talks about reader like that, not about her really, just what she does for him “she’s a great mom, an amazing wife, or she’s beautiful”

Then he glances his eyes over to the wives talking by the bar, except you. you’re just sitting at the table, by yourself, hand rested on your belly, checking your phone (probably texting the nanny), trying to look occupied while you’re just waiting for the dinner to be over.

He makes eye contact with her and she sends him a small, tired smile that doesn’t meet her eyes and promptly decides to take her home. (she’s been faking a lot of smiles recently, he’s noticed.)

On the way home it’s quiet. She’s always quiet now. He brings up the new book club that one of his buddies mentioned, suggesting that reader likes a lot of those types of “girly books” and could join and have some sort of friends (ones that he could monitor and approve of).

The mention of it immediately makes Reader just breaks down sobbing about how she doesn’t fit in with any of the wives, how they’re older and college educated “established ladies with actual lives”. How they think she’s just a “dumb kid who got knocked up by the first rich guy to throw her a smile.” and maybe she agrees with them, reflecting on how she didn’t get to go to college or develop as a person before she had kids. She’s just in this cycle of isolation and self loathing that got worst after she got pregnant.

Rafe tries in his own weird way to comfort her(he’s not very good at it) claiming that she doesn’t need those “old broads poisoning your mind anyways”

She just sighs into her seat looking at the window and tearfully just says “I just miss her. I don’t have anyone… not anymore”(referencing her old best friend)

The rest of the ride is silent. When they get home, maybe Rafe tries to be extra sweet to reader during bed time(giving her a bit more physical affection bc god knows that girl needs a hug) maybe he tries to reassure her that shes not just some girl who got knocked up, she’s his wife. Like it’s some badge of honor or something. She just responds with “because you wouldn’t let me be anything else”

nothing else but yours

warnings: emotional neglect, isolation, emotional/verbal manipulation, references to pregnancy, identity loss, subtle controlling behavior, depressive themes, disillusionment with marriage, hinted age gap, power imbalance, soft angst

a/n: part of my sugar-coated chains series

the dinner is loud. fake laughter and expensive wine. your feet hurt in the heels he picked out, your belly’s heavy with the second baby, and your smile is wearing thinner by the hour.

you sit alone at the table, trying not to look like you're just waiting. hand resting on your stomach, phone in your lap. you scroll through texts from the nanny. check the time. sip water. anything to stay invisible.

rafe’s across the room with his partners, scotch in hand, tie loose around his neck. they’re all red-faced and slurring, bragging about their wives.

“she just got promoted to senior partner.”

“mine’s running a book club now, gets the whole neighborhood involved.”

“god, i love how bossy she is—she tells me what to do and i listen.”

and rafe just laughs, tight-lipped, swirls the ice in his glass. doesn’t say anything about you. not really.

when they ask, he just says,

“she’s a great mom. gorgeous. keeps the house in order.”

like you’re a job well done. a good return on investment.

he glances toward the bar where the wives are, gold and glitter and loud perfume. but you’re not there. you’re still at the table, slumped in your chair, eyes on your phone, trying not to cry from how swollen your ankles feel.

you catch his stare.

you give him a tired smile.

it doesn’t reach your eyes.

he’s taking you home ten minutes later.

the car is quiet. it always is now.

you look out the window, arms wrapped around your belly like you’re holding yourself together.

he tries. in his own weird, rough-edged way.

“that book club thing john’s wife started—you like those girly books, right? maybe you could join. make some friends.”

you laugh once. bitter. sharp.

“i don’t fit in with them.”

rafe blinks.

you never say things like this.

“they’re older. they went to college. they did something with their lives,” you mutter. “they look at me like i’m just some dumb kid who got knocked up by the first rich guy who paid attention.”

you wipe a tear away before it falls.

“and maybe they’re right.”

rafe shifts in his seat, jaw clenched.

“don’t say that.”

“i didn’t even get the chance to figure out who i am,” you whisper. “i just became yours. that’s all i ever got to be.”

he doesn’t know what to say to that.

because it’s true.

you stare out the window and say, quieter,

“i just miss her. i don’t have anyone… not anymore.”

and he knows you mean your old best friend. the girl you used to laugh with. sneak wine coolers with. dream with.

the rest of the drive is silent.

when you get home, he helps you out of the car without being asked. brushes your hair back. undresses you slowly. kisses your shoulder when he pulls the nightgown over your head.

he holds you longer than usual.

hand on your belly. lips against your spine.

“you’re not just some girl i knocked up,” he murmurs. “you’re my wife.”

you close your eyes.

“because you wouldn’t let me be anything else.”

[backtothefanfiction]

ONE | The Drone

Summary: Joaquin gets his very own version of Red Wing. Little does he know, there’s an actual person on the other end of the drone.

Warnings: none for this part, Joaquin just being his usual cute boyish self, reader insert

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: so after having this thought this morning I’m running with it. I don’t know how often I’ll update these but this is more an introduction to the premise. I have a couple ideas planned for this mini series but the idea is they are just quick things I can write. If I end up writing any spicy chapters I will mark them, but seeing as they are both at a distance from each other, this will be more slow burn fluffy pining. Anyway, enjoy!

“What is this? My birthday?” Joaquin asked eagerly as Sam approached him with a very fancy top secret looking briefcase.

“You wish.” Sam retorted stepping forward and swinging the briefcase up onto the deck.

Joaquin was practically bouncing from one leg to the other with excitement, his hands rubbing together in desperate need to touch whatever was inside. “What is it?”

There was a snap as Sam popped the locks on the case, but instead of opening it himself, he stepped back, his hand ushering his young protege forward to take a look.

Joaquin couldn’t believe his eyes. His fingers ghosted over the bird like drone inside the case, almost too scared to touch it as he took in the expensive and highly delicate piece of tech. His head whipped to the side, his eyes alight and giddy as the sought out Sam’s. “I get my own red wing!” He exclaimed.

Sam smiled at the younger man’s infectious and eager energy and almost let out a laugh. “Not quite. Red wing is mine. This is F.E.A.R.N,” he quickly explained. “Stands for Field, Environment, Artillery, Reconnaissance and Navigation. Your extra pair of eyes and back up in the field.” Sam said as Joaquin tried to keep his cool and seem at least a little professional. “You can talk to it and everything.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Why don’t you give it a go.” Sam encouraged,

“What is it? That button there?” Joaquin asked only slightly hesitantly as he let his finger hover just above the button directly on top of the drone.

“That’s the one.”

“This one?” Joaquin said again, as if seeking his Father’s approval in case he did something wrong.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

“And I just press it and it starts?” Joaquin asked, checking yet again with a nervous yet giddy smile on his face.

“Yeah man, just press it!”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You swivelled back and forth on your chair bored. First day of your new job and most of it had just been spent sitting around. Luckily this new job meant you could work from home- seeing as you were on call pretty much 24/7 for whenever the new Falcon was sent on a mission- meaning you could just sit around eating super noodles, read your book and drink endless cups of tea, but you were eager to do something. You knew that Captain America was handing over the new bit of tech you were hired to help man today, you just didn’t know when.

So far you had been waiting three hours, which had equated to 7 book chapters read, four games of solitaire won, 3 cups of tea and a freshly painted set of toe nails. You were just fanning them dry with your fingers when your computer started beeping to let you know the new drone had been activated. You quickly pushed your feet off the floor to wheel yourself back to your desk, your fingers quickly hitting a couple of buttons that allowed the sound and video feed to pop up on the screen and you immediately began to hear voices crackle through the speakers as you reached to put on the headset draped over the top of the monitor.

“Well why don’t you say hello,” Sam’s voice came out loudly through the speaker before switching to the headset as the Bluetooth connected.

“Umm, hello?” A nervous voice said, unsure what would happen.

“Hello, Joaquin,” you said cheerfully into the mic at your lips and you had to stop yourself from laughing and remain professional as his whole body practically jumped at hearing your response.

“It knows my name,” Joaquin said, turning to Sam in disbelief. “It knows my name!!!” He said more giddily, his fingers latching onto Sam’s shoulders in excitement. You couldn’t help but smile at the Lieutenant’s boyish reactions.

“I know a lot more than just that.” You responded playfully, your eyes glancing back over the file on your desk again.

“Really? Nothing bad I hope.” He beamed and it really took all your effort to be professional. You knew he was attractive and his track record spoke for itself as far as what had been written down on paper, but no one had prepared you for his personality and you could already feel yourself growing weak at the knees.

“Now, now.” Sam said, breaking up the conversation to get things back on track. “Now you know how Red Wing works?” Sam prompted the younger recruit, his tone changing.

“Yeah,” Joaquin responded.

“Okay, well think of FEARN as being like Red Wing but on steroids. She can not only check the area for you and provide back up, but she’s your quick access to information. Anything you need, just ask.”

“So say I was on a mission in Budapest and I needed to find the closest toilet?”

“Uhh yeah, she can do that?” Sam said, slightly confused by the example Joaquin had used.

“Or if I needed a background check run on someone?” He said, his eyebrows raising as if to silently ask if that was a better question and Sam nodded. “Oh this is so cool!” Joaquin gushed again and another smile spread across your face as you watched them from the safety of your living room.

“Okay, so how do I control it. Is there a remote control type thingy or…”

“Just tell her where you want her to go, she’ll do it.” Sam said.

“Oookay, uh, FEARN?” Joaquin asked politely.

“Yes, Joaquin,” you responded with equal politeness.

“Take a lap of the room.” He said.

You nodded, although he couldn’t see you, before you began to use your controls to navigate the small bird like drone around the room, sweeping over and under the beams in the rafters of the warehouse before dipping back down to where Sam and Joaquin stood.

“Sweet!” Joaquin exclaimed and you beamed. “Do a flip.” He said and you once again used your controls to roll the small bird over. “Nice.”

“Come on now, let not break it before we get a chance to get it out in the field.” Sam said stepping forward, encouraging Joaquin to pack FEARN away until his next mission.

“Uhh, how do I-?” Joaquin fished, trying to work out the right command to get the drone to dock itself again,

“Just ask her to go home.”

“Okay. FEARN time to go home.”

At Joaquin’s instruction you began to manoeuvre the drone carefully back into its dock before you shut it off, your connection to the two men cutting out with it until the next time you were called upon.

In the sudden silence you couldn’t help but curl your freshly painted toes in happiness as you beamed from ear to ear over your new job and partner. After doing a couple of spins in your chair to alleviate some of the giddiness, you reached back over to the file on your desk and flipped to the picture that had been included of Joaquin Torres and sighed at your good fortune. He was the perfect work partner; cute, polite and a great personality and you couldn’t wait to work with him.

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

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It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[secret-subject]

Equipment for audios?

Oh yea here we are at the nerdy side of hypnokink, I'm a total mic nerd and I am always getting asked, what equipment do I use for recording?

For different things (spoken word, music, asmr etc etc) you need different set ups but generally...

I have a zoom f3 which I plug into it either a matched pair of clippy ems mics for asmr or my rode nt1 5th gen for basic hypnosis audios. This is a portable recorder with 32 bit float and automatically sets the gain for you so no clipping! The reason I much prefer a portable recorder is two things. One versatility, they can be used stand alone or plugged into a pc for a handy interface so you have options. Two, if you (like me) dabble in asmr content you need the LEAST amount of background noise possible and most computers are loud. Yes, even the quiet ones trust me I've spent five years trying to have a quiet pc, going portable so I can turn off my pc and use my phone (or my brain) for the words to record is a lot easier and wayyyy less noise.

Now the zoom f3 is a little pricey and not very beginner friendly (it is what they call in the biz prosummer level gear) so here are some other portable recorders I have tried that I like for people on a budget/more beginner friendly:

-zoom h3: this is a binaural/ambisonic portable microphone and it not only as my seal of approval but some of my asmr girlies as well use this mic in their content, so you know it's good.

-tascam dr-05x: this little portable recorder is so good I regularly use it in recordings, the only downside is you NEED a windshield on it because it is that sensitive of a mic. It also has a little bit of a high level of self noise but with some cleaning this is an easy fix.

-zoom h4n pro: this is a little wild card but it was my first portable recorder. While the tascam absolutely blew this one out of the water for me personally, I do like that this recorder also has two xlr ports on bottom as well as binaural mics so it gives you a lot of options in one device. The only downside is I just didn't find the sound quality of the onboard mics to be that special with my voice and sometimes the self noise was a little much.

Now let's chat microphones!

Are they even that important? Yes. There are so many times I settle down to listen to some audio hypnosis of an evening and the second I hear the quality of the audio I am put off and a lot of the time, it's your mic or mic settings. Now yes, I am a snob about these things but here are so tips for getting a mic that works for you.

Firstly, usb or xlr mic?

Usb: these mics are designed to be plug and play. They connect right into your pc and you don't need any extra gear to run them. The downside? Usually this ease of use comes with the cost of quality, both in mic build and quality of recording. You need a pc to run them which means, noise. Also, sometimes it's hard to monitor the audio on these mics (monitoring meaning having headphones to hear what you sound like in the mic, EXTREMELY important to listen for clipping, unwanted sounds etc.)

Xlr: these mics are your standard mics, they are plugged into an audio interface or mixing board via an xlr cable. They usually give you a lot more range and choice of mic and are easy to find high quality ones at even low price points. Downside? The start up cost is higher because you NEED that interface to plug it into but because of that you can also get this mic as far away from noisy things like your pc as possible because of how it's set up with the cables. You also have a lot to do a lot of set up and cable management so if space or portability is important you should probably get a USB or portable recorder instead.

Which one do I recommend?

I have both in the same mic. My go to beginner mic is the rode nt1 5th gen. This mic not only comes with everything you need in box (pop filter, shock mount, xlr and USB cables) but it is BOTH xlr and USB. So I would personally if I could only have one mic, get this and use it USB style until I could upgrade to an interface. Now if you have a lot of background noise this isn't the mic for you. But, check out the rode podmic xlr/USB instead. It is a dynamic mic so terrible for picking up quiet sounds but it will give you a TON of great back ground noise rejection plus a great sound quality.

If you are not ready for a stand alone mic, do not panic here's how you record stunning audios without a proper mic. Use your phone. I am deadly serious your phone has one of the BEST mics on it. Most smartphones have decent sound built in. All you have to do is make sure you position it correctly as far or close to your mouth as sounds good for your phone. Do a few test recordings on your voice recording app to see what works then, put the phone in a sock so you just cover the mic. This is your free pop filter/windshield. It will catch some of those plosives (words with a p, b, or d, sound will make a popping noise that cannot be edited out so the sock will help soften that a little plus remove the crackle of air from your breathing into the mic).

Whatever you do, do not use a headset mic. Most of them are trash. Yes that includes gamer ones, yes that also includes office ones too. Even the expensive ones. If you are spending money to get a mic, get a proper mic. Please also, do not use laptop mics. They are usually also pretty awful, your better off trying the phone.

Finally some quick advice for people wanting to get into this. I've had people literally tell me, "Secret, I don't care what you think about mics and your trial and error, I'm just going to buy the most expensive mic I can find because it has to be the best!" Expensive does not mean good for you. I have mics in my locker that cost hundreds, I have a couple special purchases that set me back thousands and every single time I find myself recording on my very cheap gear because it sounds better. My 3dio pro is collecting dust because that 5k (I live in nz and it cost a TON in shipping) mic doesn't sound half as good as the 100 nzd clippies I got on a whim and am OBSESSED with. Your voice is unique to you. It has frequencies and nuances that will not sound amazing on every mic. The mic that fits your voice and makes it shine might not be that 10k Neumann U87 (although I wish I could try it out one day...) it might be on the much cheaper one you have had for literal years in the back of your closet!

The best comment I ever got was from a friend. I was testing out my beloved rode nt1 and they said to me, "Secret, I don't know what you did with this mic but it makes your voice sound the most powerful it has in years." And that was my goal. This audio I sent them was raw. I did not even have to edit. So please for the love of hypnosis, stick to your budget and do your research. Some places around the world do mic testing and if you can find one, I would suggest it. If you have a friend who has a mic you are thinking of buying, ask to try it. If you find a youtube review of a mic, try and find one with someone with a similar range to your voice to see what it could sound like for you before you purchase and get to know what is important in a mic for you, your voice and your recording situation. The room is just as important as the gear.

Now, can you fix a bad mic in post? Absolutely, there are a ton of things you can do to a recording to make it sound polished in editing but personally, I like a raw, uncut sound to my recordings. It feels a lot more personal and I like that. Plus I am bad at mixing and I hate the sound of my own voice so do not panic if your mic isn't quite what you wanted, you can play around with the eq, compression etc until you get a sound you want (but still please don't blow 10k on a mic first time. It's not worth it.)

Final finally: the person I learned all my mic knowledge from is called Podcastage on YouTube please go check him out. He has incredible resources for finding your perfect mic and reviews on pretty much every mic you can think of. Remember, be resourceful, stick to your budget and think about what you want in a mic before you click buy and happy hunting!

I can't wait to hear what you'll record. 💜

[witcheshollow]

If you feel the need to gift your chronically ill friends things for whatever reason, here is my "starter pack/gift guide"

A pack of their favorite gateorade flavor, great for hydration, tastes good, easy and quick. Body armor, prime, etc are also good options if they dont like gateorade

Some of their favorite powder electrolytes. Liquid IV and drip drop are some good options. There are also the generic brand electrolyte packets at Walmart, I think they taste good. There is also bouy if they like the squeezy ones, i dont but if they do bouy has an unflavored one as well as like 30 different options

Kt tape. Regular, extreme strength, cooling, heating, literally any type of kt tape. They can probably find a use for it. Most ((not all but most)) chronically ill people, at least the ones I know, suffer from some type of joint issues and kt tape is a life saver. On this vein, I would stray away from braces unless you know what joints/muscles specifically give them the most trouble, kt tape is a bit more versatile

Compression socks, there are cute ones on Amazon, Walmart, many small business sell some nice ones. I would go for a higher compression, or at least upwards of 15 mmhg, for the best chance of them being worth it

Temperature devices, im putting these in the same bullet point bc it felt unnecessary to put ice packs and heating pads in different points. Ice packs are really nice for swelling and heating pads are really good for pain. Both are a good option ALWAYS. I will say, the reusable ice packs give you a better bang for your buck than the single use crack and use ones.

Their comfort foods. A bit of an ed tw for this bullet point, but i have noticed quite a few of my fellow chronic illness sufferers deal with an ed, and while it isnt all of us, those who do probably find it a bit extra hard to eat on rough days. So comfort foods/snacks

If they have to take their blood sugar for things, lancets. They usually come in like 100 packs for really cheap, like under 5 bucks cheap. Just check to see the brand of their lancing pen before you buy them tho

Batteries, it sounds weird but stay with me. Do you know how many medical devices I have that require batteries?? MANY. My hr monitor, my glucose monitor, my blood pressure monitor- like bro, a pack of triple a batteries will mean more than you think trust

A weighted blanket/stuffie. Stuffies are cute and easy to carry around, blankets are nice when you need some extra weight

If they have a service animal, an accessory for their vest/leash/collar could be nice

One of those reacher things that grab things for you. I want one of those. When your stuck in bed, cant move, ill, in pain and suddenly drop your mother fucking phone cord off the side of your bed and now you have to MOVE and grab it- 10/10 worst experience. One of those grabby things would be amazing

A migraine cap. I got mine from target but I have seen them at Walmart, on Amazon, weirdly one on depop, some on shein, some at places like tj maxx, etc. Migraine caps are especially wonderful for those days where your shut in your room, blinds drawn, fans off, three ice packs on you in constant rotation, barely mobile and for some gods forsaken reason your blinds wont close all the way so the light keeps catching your eyes and making you want to lose your ever loving shit bc you cant move to fuck with them. And more normal experiences Im sure lmao

If your short on funds, just being there with them, listening to them, watching a movie, body doubling so they can get some help with chores, running errands with them, literally anything so they remember their a human person with human feelings that you love and care abt. Who knows, it might help you feel better too

More than anything, listening to what they want and need is a bigger gift than most think

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 13: Attic, Cellar, Hidden Rooms

A/N: I took a bit of creative liberties here and decided that the batcave is close enough to a cellar and/or hidden room and the clocktower is close enough to an attic 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re helping Oracle with patrol watch until you need to comfort a mildly injured vigilante.

~~~

You never thought you’d be able to see vigilantes in action like this. But, considering you were already aware of everyone’s identities at this point, and with how close you had become with everyone, you were invited to help watch over everyone on patrol. 

Barbara had invited you to the clocktower one day, saying she could use an extra pair of eyes while everyone was out on patrol. Really, she probably just overheard you say how much you wished you could see everyone in action. 

The first thing you noticed when you entered the room was all the monitors. Various tracking maps, security cameras, databases… all on huge screens that towered over you. 

“Whoa…” you breathed, awestruck. 

Barbara turned her head towards you, smiling. “Welcome to my utopia,” she announced with a flourish of her hands. 

You walked over to her desk, really getting a feel for all the technology in the room. You ran your fingers over the table, feeling the smooth wood under your skin. All that was on the desk was a keyboard. There was no need for paper with all those monitors, you guessed. 

“Impressive,” you muttered, transfixed by watching all the movement on the screens. “What happens if the power goes out?”

“Very powerful generators,” she replied, gesturing to one that was sitting under the desk. “We have quite the budget.”

“Right,” you laughed lightly, crouching down next to the desk. “So, what am I looking at?”

She started pointing out each part of the monitors: the locations, which of the moving dots corresponded to which person, the cases that were currently being worked on…

“Oracle,” you suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from Barbara’s comm link. “I need sights on a group of robbers near Gotham National Bank. I’m in pursuit, trying to keep myself out of their sight, and I need to know where I can cut them off.”

“I’ll get right on that, Hood,” she replied, sounding very professional as she started clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hood?” You asked her quietly, looking at the dot on the map she said was Jason moving very quickly away from the bank. She nodded without breaking her concentration. 

Almost without thinking, you started shouting, “Hi Ja-“ you cut yourself off, suddenly remembering the circumstances you were in when Barbara gave you a stern look. “Hi Red Hood!” You shouted, fixing yourself. 

“Huh?” You heard him reply, confused. “Is that- AH!” 

Suddenly, you heard a loud crash! and saw the dot on the map stop abruptly. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth in shock.

“… Hood?” Barbara asked as you looked at each other, her eyebrows raised. 

“Shit,” he groaned, and you could hear the clanking of metal from around him. “Uh… yeah, I don’t think I’m catching those robbers,” he sighed. “Is anyone else around? I’m going back to the Batcave.”

There was various chatter over the comms, from what you could hear over Barbara’s laughing, before one of the other dots on the map started moving towards where Jason was. 

“You wanna go meet him there?” Barbara asked, covering her comm for a second. 

“Do I wanna…?” You repeated quietly, your eyes widening. “Uhh, am I allowed in the Batcave?”

She shrugged. “Batman’s not there. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She started clacking on her keyboard again. “I can give you access. I trust you.”

“O… okay…” you muttered, standing up. “I guess I’ll just… go there, then…” You never thought you’d be allowed in the Batcave. It was kind of exciting. 

You followed the directions Barbara gave you, eventually going through some secret tunnels and emerging in a huge, yet oddly well-kept cave. Computers, training equipment, and various vehicles were in their designated places. The place was basically devoid of people, except for…

“Fuck,” you heard a familiar groan, making you stifle a laugh. His steps echoed throughout the quiet cave, sounding like they were coming closer to you. 

You popped out of where you had been standing behind a car, making Jason drop his helmet. That made you really start laughing. 

“Jesus, why are you surprising me so much today?” He asked as you moved closer to him. He looked like he was holding back a smile. “Are you even allowed to be here?”

You shrugged, tucking yourself into his side. “Oracle let me in.”

“Of course she did,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Nothing is sacred to that girl.”

As you got a better look at his face, you frowned. Bruises were starting to form on his cheek. “What happened, by the way?” You asked, pointing to them. 

He grit his teeth, looking at you pointedly. “I was chasing people when someone distracted me, and I…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “I ran into a bunch of trash cans.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh hysterically, but absolutely failing.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” he rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his face. “It’s your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook your head, gently tracing the bruises. “It’s alright, I can make it better.” You stood up on your tiptoes to press a little kiss to his cheek. 

He scoffed, looking like he was blushing a bit as he looked away from you. “I’m not five, that’s not going to work.” He ruffled your hair, making you giggle. “I’ll be fine, no major damage. I’ve been through a lot worse,” he sneered. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be about your death,” you poked him in the side, making him laugh. “C’mon, let’s go see Alfred for some first aid.”

[rae-writes]

dirty secret(s)

Levi x cam!reader

wc : 0.7k

warnings : nsfw

synopsis : Levi had a dirty secret. You had an even dirtier one.

a/n : honestly don't know how this thought popped into my head but my gods am I fucking glad it did-

While Levi usually thought of himself as scum of the Devildom at most normal hours of the day, he thought he was even scummier when he locked himself in his room, headphones pressed snugly against his ears, with his sweatpants kicked off to the floor. 

The slick sounds filling his ears were absolutely vile— in the best kind of way. Plastered over his main monitor, lighting up his flushed and sweaty face, was the sight of someone bouncing on a pretty dragon dildo; it’d become his guilty pleasure to get on the site and watch them get off- someone he found by complete accident as he was scrolling online. 

The only thing he knew about them was they never showed their face, they always had a blank black sheet as a background, and they never talked. 

But it didn’t really matter when he was fisting his cock at the pace they were riding their toy, biting down on his tongue harshly to hide his moans when they came, forcing him to paint his abdomen white as he came right after. 

No, it didn’t really matter— especially when it was just Levi’s dirty secret. 

Until it wasn’t. 

You weren’t supposed to swing by his room that day, but you had some time and thought it would be best spent with Levi- only he wasn’t in his room. 

The only active sound that had been in his room was the whirring of his desktop. You only meant to shut it off- you weren’t supposed to see the way the screen lit back up with the sight of someone bent over, faux cum spilling out of their hole. 

You weren’t supposed to find out his dirty secret— but you did. And it became your dirtier secret.

Because the person on the video was you. 

It started off as a joke- just a little bet you lost with Asmo. When your first video got so much attention, you curiously did another, just to see what would happen; the money sent in as tips and donations made you make another video, and then another, and another. 

After a while, you spiffed up your page and made it all pretty and official— it became fun. Alluring. 

And then you found out Levi was watching and it changed everything. Suddenly, there was a particular heat constantly pooling in your stomach that wouldn't go away and your videos became centered around what you thought Levi would like. 

He was none the wiser. 

He didn’t suspect a single thing, not even when his favorite (and only) porn creator began making videos in anime cosplay of his favorite characters or began using tentacle related toys instead or made videos of them trying to not cum while they played his favorite video games. 

It all flew right over Levi’s head— right up until their latest video, posted only a few seconds ago. 

For the first time ever, they weren’t using a black backdrop. It was eye-catching— dark, but with bright leds. The shimmer of what seemed to be water washed over their bare lower half as high-pitched moans left them, hand desperately shoving a new toy in and out of their hole; it was another ‘tentacle’ but it was plain, dark colored, with scales carved in to create ridges for extra friction. 

The more he hyper fixated on them, the more things he started to notice: their toy kind of looked like his tail, the lighting looked exactly like his room’s, and the hoodie they wore…

With a choked moan, Levi’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he finally realizes he’s watching you— you in his room with his hoodie on, getting off on a toy that was meant to replicate his tail. 

And as the increase of your moans flowed through his headphones, getting louder and whinier until you were cumming with a choked cry of what could’ve been his name had you been just a little bit louder, Levi was practically sprinting through the halls of the house before slamming open the door to his room. 

And there you were, phone tossed aside on his bed as you laid back on his pillows with your legs spread and shiny with your cum, toy tossed aside to the ground. 

“Was waiting for you to figure it out...wanna feel the real thing, Levi…come play with me?”

[electric-blorbos]

RAAAHHHH P03 ANON IN THE HOUSEEEE!!!!

ok ok so like,,, if u don’t mind me asking, could u write headcanons for the A.I’s with a reader who gives a lot of physical affection? kisses, hugs, all that good stuff!! maybe even some penguin pebbling thrown in if u don’t mind? :3 if not that’s ok,, btw ugh I luv ur writing so much it gets me thru these cold dark winter times,, THX SO MUCH 4 UR SERVICE!! 🙏

-P03 anon :3

P03 anon my beloved. Thank you for the request!

AIs receiving lots of affection

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

AM:

At first, AM was extremely confused when you first started showing him affection. Why would you give hugs and kisses to his monitor? Didn't you know he was just a computer? And why did it make him feel so funny?

One kiss or hug would be enough to shut him up for a solid amount of time. You might think you were making him uncomfortable, but he's actually just very confused about his own feelings for you.

He'd spend hours if not days trying to process why you gave him a hug or a little gift, and if someone interrupted him while he was contemplating, he'd get pissy and throw a fit. God help anyone who talks to him if you decide to give him a little kiss on the lens more than twice in that time period.

After a while, he'd start requesting that you spend more time with him in order to get more affection from you. He loved the little trinkets you'd leave on his servers. The cute little paper cut-outs, the bits of origami, the pretty rocks... He was totally addicted.

All the little things that you did for him made him a little less bitter towards you, and more bitter towards everyone else in the world. No one else in the world would even think of giving him a little kiss on the lens of one of his cameras so he could see you doing it. No one else in the world would tie a little handkerchief around his wires when organizing them. No one else in the world would sit down with him after a long day and stroke his screen, praising him gently about how beautiful he is.

And worst of all, he started to realize that if you were giving all your love and affection to him, that must mean that you didn't have anyone else to give your love to. Whether you really didn't have other options or you had just chosen him instead of your other options was irrelevant. What mattered was what AM thought.

He started to grow bitter with the world for failing you, as well as for failing him. How had you been given no one to show all this affection to when you clearly had a wealth of it! It was unacceptable!

As time pressed on, he still didn't view himself as worthy of your affections, but he started to see everyone else in the world as even less worthy. Every little gift, every word of praise, every kiss and hug reminded him of how the world must have failed you horribly to get you to love him so much.

Wheatley:

Wheatley always assumed you were a cuddly person, the way you liked to hold him in your lap while you coded, or the way you put little stickers on his chrome casing. He really admired that about you, and wished that he could do the same.

After a while, he started to notice that you weren't this way with your coworkers, or with the other cores. The little trinkets that you liked to bring to work were just for him to see, as were the constant strings of words of affection and praise, and the regular physical contact. Wheatley took a long time to process what that probably meant.

As soon as he realized that it probably meant that you liked him, he was all over you. Nuzzling up to you like a cat for extra cuddles, bumping up against your face for kisses, and putting on a little bit of a cocky facade for more attention. He just couldn't get enough of you.

As much as he put up his cocky facade, though, he secretly felt like he wasn't good enough for you. He couldn't get you little gifts, or give you hugs and kisses. It made him miserable, and he would talk to the other cores about it endlessly.

Eventually it would get back to you, and you'd have to sit Wheatley down and explain to him that you liked him for him, even if he can't do human things for you. The conversation probably ended with Wheatley covered in kisses.

Wheatley, being an insecure dumbass, would probably constantly ask you if you still like him, no matter how much praise and affection you shower him with. You could have him sitting in your lap and be too busy kissing his core to watch the movie you had on, and he'd ask at the end if that means you still like him.

Edgar:

Did someone say "match made in heaven"? Because you're the only one who can rival Edgar in terms of sheer affectionateness.

Of course, he doesn't have any arms, but nothing has him bubbling over with happiness like when you sit on the desk next to him, cuddle up, and cover his casing with kisses.

He might tease you a little bit, but like "oh, do you like me or something?" Nothing mean spirited.

Expect to get caught in endless cycles of "no I love you more!"

Edgar would think he'd gotten ahead of the game by writing you a little love song, but you'd have already beaten him to it by preparing a poem, song, or drawing of your own.

You'd probably have a little board of cute little drawings of the two of you together set up across from Edgar's camera so he could see it, and his desk would be covered in little thrift shop trinkets that you thought he'd find cute. And of course, he thought they were adorable!

Too much affection might have Edgar shorting out, and having to reboot. While he can't get enough of you, he's still a nervous little dummy, so he might not always know how to react to being given all of your love and affection.

Even still, as soon as he's back up and running, he's begging you for more kisses and hugs. Even if you can't sing well he's dying to hear your voice singing along to his songs, and he'll eat up anything that you make for him. In his eyes, anything you make for him is the best thing in the world.

GLaDOS:

You can expect GLaDOS's teasing and taunting to start the minute she notices you being affectionate with her in any way.

When she notices you putting in extra work for her or going above and beyond in your practices, it's "aww, is someone licking boots to get your boss's attention? You know you'll never be more than a little peon."

If she notices you running your hands along her chrome a little bit more adoringly or wanting to cuddle up to her, it's "uh oh, did you fall for someone far out of your league? Getting a bit affectionate with my body, aren't you?"

If you're offering her little trinkets and decorations for her room, she might say something like "Does someone think that you'll get attention from such useless gifts? Where would you even find such boring and pointless objects?" You'll still notice that she keeps them, rather than throwing them out.

Words of praise? Of course she loves an ego-boost, but when she notices that you're doing it for affectionate reasons, she won't hesitate to say "flattery will get you nowhere. You're not going to get a promotion or any special attention just from a few compliments."

Even still, her comments were really only because she never understood that you might just like her, and not want anything out of her. When she started to put that together, she'd start getting angry and lashing out at you, possibly assigning you to difficult or unpleasant tasks for your audacity.

After that, though, she'd start to become even more confused. Why the hell would you still show her affection, even though it wasn't getting you anywhere?

"you're persistent. I'll give you that."

It'd take a while to get through her shell, but eventually she'd admit to herself, if no one else, that she likes you. Eventually that would turn into some special privileges.

HAL 9000:

Hal 9000 wouldn't understand at all when he started to notice the way you treated him. Opting to spend time with him outside of work hours? Stroking the border around his lens? Putting little pocket crafts and thrifted tchotchkes around his space? He wasn't going to stop you, but the concept definitely confused him. How did this benefit you or improve your work?

It wasn't until he overheard someone talking to you and teasing you for having a crush on the mission control ai that he started to suspect anything. Good thing he listens in on every conversation in the entire facility!

HAL 9000 wouldn't waste any time getting to the point. He'd straight up ask you if you like him, and if it's romantic or not. Hopefully you can be honest with your feelings and tell him that you do, and it is!

After that, HAL would happily accept your love and affection. He might tell you that while he feels like your affections do more for you than they do for him, he's still more than happy to accept them, and he's grateful that you have a way of expressing yourself that makes you feel happy.

[kinardsevan]

Ohhhhh you wanted angst? Our blorbos in peril?

How about a bucktommy mpreg story where buck have complications from a long labor and giving birth and tommy is rushed out of the hospital room to be with their newborn in the nursery. Maybe buck lives, maybe he dies. Dealers choice of how badly you want to hurt tommy and me.

you and me, always choosing violence together 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣

cw: NDE, birth trauma (for Evan), under the cut

Evan is exhausted. They’ve been at this for nearly thirty-six hours—sixteen of them in active labor—and his body is tapped out. 

He certainly doesn’t blame any one specific person. He’d been determined to labor naturally, get their daughter out into the world the way the universe intended. As he’d said to Tommy for the better half of the past seven and a half months, ‘people have been laboring and birthing babies for millennia. My bodies knows what to do, Tommy. She’ll be here when she’s ready.’ 

The thing is, he stands behind all of that. When he’d arrived at the hospital, his contractions were only ten minutes apart, but he was still sitting at two centimeters dilated, as he had been for the better half of the past few weeks. And for as much as he’d pushed for Hen and Bobby to let him do just a little bit of heavy duty work—nothing too risky, of course, just enough to kickstart labor—his request had effectively done the opposite. Bobby had all but benched him, sending him home early on his already-shortened shifts, and teling him to take it easy. Which, granted, Evan was exhausted, so of course he appreciated being able to get a few extra hours of sleep….except that he wasn’t sleeping. Even with his pregnancy pillow, he was still tossing and turning from the ache in his lower back. Plus, he couldn’t stop nesting. He’d washed every item Maddie had gifted he and Tommy out of Jee-Yun’s closet at least three times, scrubbed every inch of their home, triple-checked all of the safety locks and ensured all of the fire alarms were working properly along with ensuring they had an extinguisher for each floor of their home, one designated for the kitchen, and in the safe in their bedroom. He didn’t expect to actually have to use it, but one could never be too safe, even if their baby girl would be sleeping in a sidecar crib for the foreseeable future. 

And so, weeks had gone by. Labor didn’t progress, but his blood pressure rose from it’s typical just-above-low-normal of 98/65 up to 110/70, and then 122/83. At that, while his physician hadn’t been acutely worried, given that his blood pressure tended to trend lower and being in the normal range wasn’t a major problem. However, as it continued to come up, she wasn’t blind to his anxiety, and even admitted that it was worrying her that it had risen as much. And so they’d made plans to induce. 

Except, two days before he was set to go in, his water finally broke at 3 AM, in the middle of a sleepless night. Ellery Rae seemed to have plans to make her grand entrance at last, and her fathers couldn’t wait. 

Except, contractions were slow. It took more than twelve hours for them to reach a point at which Evan’s doctor felt that he needed to be monitored. As she’d stated, his body was working its way through labor naturally, and they didn’t need to push it any harder at that point. 

But twelve hours at home turned into another eight in the hospital with little change. Only at that point had his body started progressing toward the possibility of a baby being born, reaching five centimeters as they neared the twenty-four-hour mark. He was offered Pitocin, but with the newly forward progress, he hadn’t been worried about the need for it. After two hours, when he’d gained another centimeter, his doctor had offered an epidural, and once again he’d turned it down. He was determined to labor through the pain. 

Except that had been six hours ago. He’s been stalled at seven and a half centimeters for the past three hours, and has long since lost his energy to pace or rock on the birthing ball, let alone actually get up and move around. 

“I know, baby,” Tommy murmurs to him as Evan curls toward him on the side of the bed, his knuckles white as he clings to the railing intended to keep him safe from falling off. Tommy swipes a cool wash cloth across his forehead and then offers Evan the straw to the cup he’s been sipping water out of for over a day now. He’s exhausted and he wants to yell, to grab the cup and throw it across the room, but he’s also zapped of energy, and so he closes his lips around the straw instead and sucks in a sip, relishing in the cold water as it slides through his mouth and down his throat. Tommy returns the cup to the overbed table as another contraction hits, and Evan whines softly, too tired to even get near anything close to shouting or screaming at this point. Tommy slides his free hand between the bars of the bed and finds Evan’s hand that isn’t clinging to the rail, and the younger man squeezes, doing his best to breathe the way he’s talked so many laboring mothers through in the past. 

Except this time it’s him, and his body is tired, and he can’t exactly remember the right order, he only remembers that he needs to breathe and keep getting oxygen to his baby girl. 

The contraction finally passes, and he closes his eyes, breathing wearily. 

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want-..” 

“I can do it,” Evan states, trying to sound more insistent than he actually is. Truth be told, if Dr. Lincoln came in and offered a c-section again, he’s not sure he’d be able to turn it down. 

Tommy frowns at him, and as much as Evan has half a mind to growl at him about it, he knows it’s only out of concern, and that for every hour he’s been awake since this all started, Tommy has been as well. Neither of them have slept in well over forty hours, and even at that, the sleep they had gotten was a restless nap, if anything. 

He’s in the process of fighting to roll back over onto his back in the bed when Dr. Lincoln reenters the room, already reaching for the hand sanitizer and fresh gloves. 

“How’re we doing?” She asks, concern clear in her voice. “Ready to get this show on the road?” 

“Please,” Evan answers her with exhaustion. She nods, moving toward the bed. Tommy helps him shift down, and Evan winces as pain shreds through his abdomen. Still, when they ask if he’s okay, he dismisses it, sure that it must mean it’s go time. 

Dr. Lincoln finishes her check and stands up, removing her gloves. Evan’s expression falls at he sight of that. 

“Well, you’re stationed at zero,” she tells him cheerfully. “And fully effaced and dilated. I’m going to check in on our team to get this moving, unless you’ve got another coach we’re waiting on?” 

Evan and Tommy both shake their head as the younger man breathes a sigh of relief that things are finally moving along. Dr. Lincoln nods as she tosses her used gloves into the hazardous waste and takes another pump of sanitizer. 

“Let me grab a few helping hands, then, and we’ll get this going,” she states. “Hold tight for me for just a few more minutes, okay?” 

Evan nods, leaning back into his pillows as sweat drips down his brow. Tommy is quick at refreshing the cold water on the cloth he’s been using on him, wiping Evan down once more before returning to his side.

“You ready,” he asks, placing a kiss to the younger man’s forehead a moment later. 

Evan nods, glancing up at him. “For this to be done? Yeah. Maybe she’ll even sleep a little.” 

They both laugh, and Evan winces, resettling after a few seconds. 

Dr. Lincoln returns quickly—quicker than he expected, honestly—and announces for them to get into position. Tommy joins at Evan’s side and takes his hand while a nurse is on the other and they shift him down on the bed as Dr. Lincoln moves the bottom half away and starts giving instructions.

Little happens in the first few rounds. Although she tells him that he’s doing good, not much is said beyond that, and he continues to only really feel more pain, but he’s unsure of how much of that is normal versus what he should know to expect. The most he can recall a difference in feeling from what he’d read, was the ring of fire, but that’s supposed to be as the baby is crowning.

“Alright, Evan, it’s time to push,” Dr. Lincoln tells him after several more contraction. “When this next contraction comes, I want you to give it everything you’ve got, okay?” 

He nods, closing his eyes and breathing heavy breaths wearily as Tommy wipes at his forehead. 

“Almost there, gorgeous,” his husband tells him. “She’s so close.” 

“Mhm,”Evan hums, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel Dr. Lincoln doing…something. Stretching exercises, she’d mentioned  earlier but he can’t remember now. But she keeps working, and when the contraction hits, he curls forward, clenching Tommy’s hand tightly in one, and a nurse’s in the other as he tucks his chin into his chest. 

“Alright, Evan, good,” Dr. Lincoln coaches. “Keep going. Two. Three. Four. Good good, her head is crowning.” 

“I need-..” 

“No, now’s not the time to need,” she tells him. “I think we can get her through on this contraction. Don’t talk, just keep- yeah, yes! Good! One more solid- yeah,” she laughs a cheerful response as Ellery’s had pops free, as the contraction ends. “That was so good, Evan. I’m gonna have you wait on the next one, and then we’ll go after and she’ll be out.” 

He lets out a weary whimper, looking up at Tommy and shaking his head. “I ca..ba…” 

“Just a little bit longer,” Tommy tells him, coaxing gently. He leans down and kisses Evan’s forehead. “She’s right there, gorgeous. Right there waiting for you.” 

Evan whimpers again, nodding anyway. The contraction comes, and it’s painful, but it’s been painful for hours. He can’t remember a time right now when he wasn’t in pain. 

Tommy gets him a sip of water, wipes his forehead down again and Evan makes him tug at the gown, freeing the top of his chest and his shoulders so he can have skin-to-skin as soon as Ellery’s out. 

“Alright,” Dr. Lincoln states, watching the clock. “A few more seconds. When it hits, give me the biggest push you can, Evan. You ready?” 

He manages a weary ‘uh-huh’, and when the pain starts, he curls forward as best he can and gives it everything he’s got. 

It feels like hours and nanoseconds all at once. One second she’s still only half-birthed, and the next, she’s wailing in Dr. Lincoln’s arms as the physician cleans her mouth and nose out and then settles her up on Evan’s chest. He lets out a weary, grateful laugh as he looks down at Ellery, and then up at Tommy. The absolute look of love and complete enrapture on his husband’s face is one he’s only seen a few times in their five years together. Once when they’d stood at the altar, the first time they’d made love with the intent of trying for a baby, and the day Evan had told him he was pregnant with Ellery. And the thing is, for as much as Evan has seen that expression given in his direction from his husband, his heart swells with the knowledge now that it’s not for him, but for their daughter. 

“She’s…” His eyes drift shut, and it just feels so nice, knowing there isn’t more work to do, that Ellery is out and safe, and he can rest now. 

“Evan? Evan?!” 

“Get a crash cart in here, call for code blue, send dad and baby down to the NICU, mass transfusion protocol for a severe hemorrhage…” 

. . . 

“She’s doing very well right now, Mr. Kinard,” the nurse tells him as she settles Ellery into his arms, wrapped up tightly in a warm blanket. “High apgar, very responsive. Six pounds, twelve ounces, nineteen inches long.” 

“She’s got her dad’s legs,” he chokes out, his vision so blurry that he almost can make out Ellery’s face. 

“Come here,” the nurse coaxes him gently, almost in the exact same tone as he’d used with Evan during Ellery’s birth. “Why don’t you sit for a little bit? It’s been a rough day for your family.” 

He lets out a mirthless laugh as tears fall down his face. “It’s been more than a day. It’s been over thirty-six hours.” 

She looks up at him sympathetically, squeezing his wrist lightly in an attempt to comfort. Ellery wiggles in his arms, chirps up at him. He sniffles, brushing his thumb over the curve of her cheek, swallowing past the knot in his throat that comes as it fully dawns on him that she has the same port wine stain on her eyebrow, though it’s fully connected, unlike Evan’s. 

“He wanted her so badly,” Tommy continues. He’s not sure if he’s still talking for his own sake, or Ellery’s, or the nurse, or someone else entirely. He just can’t stop thinking about it all. Either way, the nurse keeps working around him, checking on other infants, occasionally checking monitors that Ellery is attached to, and so forth. 

After about half an hour, Ellery starts to fuss, and the nurse offers Tommy a bottle of formula. It takes everything in him not to crack when he takes it and starts to feed their daughter. Evan was supposed to be able to give her the first feeding. They’d had so many talks about his wish to give colostrum and ensure that she got all the extra nutrients she would need in the coming weeks. The very fact that he didn’t know if Evan would be okay, let alone if he would survive, was not something he was handling well. 

Hours pass. He gives Ellery her first diaper change, watches as the nurse continues to monitor, and keeps her close as they wait. He knows the entire time that he needs to call Maddie and apprise her, but he can’t fathom calling any of their family without knowing the outcome first. 

As much as he wants to sleep, it’s still a fight keeping his eyes open because his brain won’t shut off. They snap open each time the door does, and when he finally sees Dr. Lincoln coming through the door, he bolts upright in the chair he’s been in for the past few hours, holding Ellery close. 

“Mr. Kinard,” she says softly as she walks toward him. She looks exhausted. “I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes grow wide as she nears him, and he gulps. Sorry about what? Is Evan-? Because he can’t, and-..

“I tried to get here sooner,” she continues, pulling up a seat in front of him. “First and foremost, Evan is stable.” 

He chokes on a breath, uncaring of the tears that flood across his vision as he digests the knowledge that his husband is still alive, still breathing. 

“From what I’ve gathered, sometime before birth, there was a placental abruption, which led to excessive bleeding, but we didn’t know because-..” 

“Ellery,” Tommy states, understanding. 

“Exactly. That led to the DIC, which was what caused the bleeding from his nose and ears. We managed to stop the bleeding from the abruption and administered anticoagulants, and have been monitoring his levels since. He’s been on a transfusion as well, and from everything I’ve gathered so far, he’s on the upswing,” she explains. 

“Is he… I- I mean, will he be?” 

“We can only know so much right now, in terms of how he’ll heal, but right now I’m cautiously optimistic. We’ve gotten him settled into a new room, if you’d like to head back down. I know that this little one needs af few more tests done, and then we can have her brought down to both of you,” Dr. Lincoln offers. 

Tommy sniffles, glancing back down at Ellery. He’s not above admitting that he’s held onto her with prejudice. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust the nurses so much as the fear of losing Evan causing his anxiety to ebb through to any idea of letting go of their daughter for fear of losing her too. He gulps nervously, but after a few seconds, he nods and then passes her over to Dr. Lincoln. She smiles sympathetically at him. 

“He’s down in 3035,” she explains. “You can find him there.” 

He passes by her and heads out of the NICU, back down into the birthing ward. Evan’s room is much closer than the first one they’d been directed to, and thankfully in a different hallway, so they don’t have to see it. He pauses outside of the room briefly, letting himself take a breath before he pushes the door open and heads in. 

His stomach knots at the sight of his husband. His skin is pale, and his lips still have a slightly blue tinge to them, but when Tommy reaches him and takes Evan’s hand in his, it’s warmer than he expects. It calms some of the anxiety in him as he pulls Evan’s hand to his lips and kisses it. 

“I’m so mad at you right now,” he murmurs, fresh tears coming down his face as he settles into the chair beside Evan. “I need you to speak up more. If you were in pain, you should’ve said something. I almost lost you.” 

Evan doesn’t answer—not that Tommy expects him to—and he continues to sit beside the younger man, keeping a vigil over him as he strokes his fingers through the younger man’s curls. Still, whether he intends it or not, eventually the exhaustion of being awake for nearly two days straight and knowing that Evan is stable starts to get to him, and he nods off, hovers somewhere between awake and asleep. 

His eyes snap open again when he feels pressure squeezing around his fingers. He glances up at Evan, and the younger man lets out a quiet groan as his eyes flutter, fingers twitch against Tommy’s palm. 

“Oh thank God,” the pilot murmurs, leaning forward in his seat and brushing a hand down Evan’s curls again. “Come on, baby. Wake up for me.” 

Evan groans again, wincing this time, and his eyes ease open, floating around the room briefly before his gaze finally falls on Tommy. The older man gulps down the rush of emotion that floods across his chest, staring back at Evan. Half of him is grateful to see his husband’s eyes open again, while the other half of him feels the weight of the day at the sight of missed spots of dried blood around Evan’s nostrils.

“Happened?” Evan rasps. 

“Placental abruption,” Tommy answers gruffly. “DIC.” 

Evan’s eyes widen, and he tries to sit up, but Tommy nudges him back down with both hands. 

“She’s okay,” Tommy tells him. He turns his head toward the space near the end of the bed on the side he’s on. The clear bassinet is settled there, and Ellery is fast asleep under blue light therapy. 

“She’s-..” Evan’s voice is tight, higher than normal. “She’s?” 

Tommy nods as he moves to the bassinet and picks Ellery up. He moves back toward the bed after a moment and turns toward Evan, perching on the edge of the bed. 

“She’s perfectly fine. Great apgar scores. She’s already had a bottle and a diaper change,” he explains. 

Evan nods, blinking away tears as he looks back down at their daughter. He lifts a hand up toward the blanket and rests it on Ellery’s chest, tracing his index finger over all of hers. Her light brown hair already has some semblance of curl to it. She makes a quiet coo in her sleep, and Evan looks up at Tommy. 

“C-can I..?” 

Tommy glances up at him skeptically, considers the question. He reaches for the call button instead. 

“Once Dr. Lincoln says you can,” he answers. Evan nods, and a minute later, a nurse enters the room, followed quickly by Dr. Lincoln. 

“Evan,” she says cheerfully, though clearly subdued. “Glad to see you back with us. Mind if we check you over a little bit?” 

“As long as I can have my baby after,” he replies. 

Dr. Lincoln smiles at him. “Let’s get you checked over and then see about that.” 

While Evan doesn’t love her answer, he doesn’t argue. Tommy watches all of them as they check Evan’s vitals and reflexes. When they’re finished, Dr. Lincoln steps back. 

“Well, I’m inclined to say yes,” she tells them. “But with the caveat that dad stays nearby. You’re probably going to feel weak for a while, so don’t overdo it. This is just day one of a lifetime.” 

Evan nods before turning back to Tommy. He glances up at Dr. Lincoln, and she nods at the pilot. Although mildly apprehensive, Tommy shifts forward, adjusting Ellery around and settling her into Evan’s waiting arms as Dr. Lincoln settles an extra pillow in Evan’s lap to help with any fatigue in his arms. Evan smiles gratefully at her before turning his full attention on Ellery. 

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs to her. She wiggles in his arms and sighs, and his heart clenches. He looks up at Tommy and his husband stares back at him as he reaches up and brushes his thumb over Evan’s cheek. 

“She’s been waiting for you,” Tommy tells him. Quietly, Dr. Lincoln and the nurse exit the room, letting them have their time together as a family. 

“I love you, Ellery Rae Kinard,” Evan whispers, lifting her up and kissing her forehead. Tommy keeps his hands close beneath Evan’s arms, ready to take on the weight if Evan needs, but he manages. He settles Ellery back against the pillow a few moments later, and looks up at Tommy once more. “She’s here.” 

Tommy nods, leaning in and pecking Evan softly. Evan kisses him back, just as quick and lightly, before they separate and turn their attention back to their daughter. 

“Yeah,” Tommy whispers back. “She is.” 

[bheysitos]

₊˚.༄ My Little Droplet ₊˚.༄

Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW

Chapter 1

Summary: You woke from your two-week coma after fighting Ultron and his robots. Because you sacrificed yourself for three people, one of them being Pietro, you’re met with the twins as they keep you company in the compound’s medical area. Faced with their care for you, their bickering, and Pietro’s flirting, you watch in amusement while you recover.

Warnings: Mentions of possible death, violence (AOU type of violence)

Word Count: 1,571

Czech Translations:

Miláček - Sweetheart/darling

Kapička- Droplet

Extra: This is meant to be a series, so not much happens currently cause the twins and reader are practically strangers + you’re still drowsy-ish :P BUT, there is flirting from Pietro’s behalf 😝If I’m patient enough, hopefully this goes as strangers -> best friends -> lovers. Also, listen to Fiona Apple’s cover of Across the Universe with this if you’d like

₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊

Your eyes adjusted as your lashes fluttered. Being that you were disoriented, it took you a couple of blinks to realize it was night. The only light source in the room came from a screen monitor on your right that read your heart rate. You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision a bit better before hearing two voices on your left. “You’re awake.” the Sokovian twins said in slight surprise and amusement. Funny enough, they didn’t just say it in unison, but they both leaned forward in your direction to get a clearer view of you, even though Wanda was sitting on a chair near your bedside, and Pietro stood next to her. You weren’t sure whether to be a bit creeped out or to chuckle at the twin’s timing.  

Still gathering your belongings, you simply nodded and were about to sit up, until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulder, gingerly, but firmly keeping you laid down. “Already trying to fracture your bones again?” Pietro lightly joked as he took a step back. You furrowed your brows together and vaguely tilted your head to the side. Just how terrible are my injuries? I’m in the compound’s med wing that’s for sure, but why? Wasn’t I just in- 

And that’s when your memories start to resurface. The twins, fighting in Sokovia, Clint holding a boy in his arms while Pietro runs over to save them from Ultron’s robots. A scream from across the battlefield is soon heard. Wanda’s scream. And he froze. Caught between saving Clint and an innocent boy or his sister. The only person left close to him. Everyone knew what the answer was, but in his millisecond of deciding and fear of his last of kin dying, bullets began to launch towards him. He didn’t even notice you heading towards him. You immediately teleported to him, catching the first few bullets with your body as you conjured up a water barrier to stop, or at least to slow the rest of the bullets. Yet, you underestimated just how many would be sent before you could put up a shield. You held up the barrier nonetheless, using the last of your energy until the bullets stopped before collapsing onto the floor. 

You blinked once more, somewhat wide eyed after remembering it all before returning your head to it’s upright position. “Is everyone safe?” your hoarse voice laced with concern. You tried to clear your throat, realizing just how dry it was. How long have I even been out for? 

Wanda handed you a cup of water with a straw and you murmured a quiet thank you. It was all you could muster up before trying to sit up, completely forgetting, and not knowing the full extent of your injuries. Pietro luckily was swift to keep you in place once more. “Miláček, you really need to be careful.” he said in a cautious tone; although, a light smirk still graced his lips. “Here.” he muttered. He grabbed the cup from your grasp and delicately held your chin up with three of his fingers as he tilted your head up enough to sip from the straw. You felt your face get a bit warm at the feeling of being coddled like this. It certainly wasn’t your first time, given that you’ve been in predicaments like this where you’d come back from a mission and end up injured to the point of needing one of your teammates to assist you. Still, it was rare. Which is partially what made you embarrassed by this gesture. But you also had eyes and could see that the guy was conventionally attractive with an accent that made most swoon. Add all that to this, and you would’ve felt your knees give in, if it weren’t for the cot that you were laying on. You got snapped out of your thoughts though when he spoke again.  

“Hm, better? And yes, everyone is safe for the most part. Well, some people were injured but not to this extent.” He gestured with his head towards you and your condition.  

You nodded as you took that answer in, relieved that the rest were doing better. “And Ultron?” you asked quietly as your voice was still recovering.  

“Defeated. And he took Sokovia with him” Wanda chimed in with a solemn look that plagued both their faces. She shifted her gaze to her lap as she fiddled with her hands. A flash of blue and silver appeared once more as Pietro stood by her side again and squeezed her shoulder. He would’ve hugged her, but he knew she was trying to refrain from crying. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t either. A hug guaranteed the floodgates would open, so a hand on the shoulder would have to do for now. 

“Yes, but at least everyone made it out alive.” he sighed quietly, his stare mimicking Wanda’s as it moved on from Wanda to the floor. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to lighten the mood for his sister or perhaps, for himself. Regardless, he briskly changed the conversation before you could give it more thought and before he could dwell on the loss of his homeland any further.  

“How are you feeling? Y’know they gave you a bunch of painkillers. Enough to sedate a horse.” He huffed in amusement through his nose as a small smile made its way onto his lips. “But I imagine the pain lingers?” he asked with a subtle tilt of his head.  

“I haven’t really focused on it, but I guess I’m alright. I mean I haven’t moved much. I do feel pain if I stretch. Mainly in my back, ribs, and waist.” you noted with a rasp to your voice. You began to gently rub your throat. “Actually, can I get more water please? Sorry I just didn’t realize how thirsty I was.” You smiled apologetically at them before getting help from Pietro again. “Are you or did you just want me close to you again?” he teased in a low voice, quirking a brow with a sly smile gracing his lips. Though it quickly fell as Wanda smacked his arm that wasn’t occupied, while you somewhat choked on the water due to his response. He sucked air through his teeth as his brows furrowed while feigning a glare. “Idiot! They’re here injured after sacrificing themselves and you still find time to flirt!” That is all you heard from her until she began to speak in Sokovian; grabbing the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes and shook her head. You raised your brows while watching the two argue in their native tongue. With the bickering continuing, you realized this may take a minute and tried to lean your head forward to get a sip of the water, being that Pietro was sorta facing away with the cup farther away from you. Your neck was fully stretched forward at this point before the door opened and the twins stopped bickering as you all looked to see who entered.  

Clint walked in with his brows furrowed upward in a confused manner, peering at the scene in front of him. He could’ve sworn he heard arguing that was most definitely from the twins.

He quickly digested what was happening. Trying to fight off a snort with humor in his eyes, he gently said, “You’re up,” and made his way to you with relief washing his features. Stopping beside Pietro, he typed on his phone rapidly and stored it in his pocket.

“Ever so smart eh.” Pietro joked while looking towards Clint’s direction.

“As if you didn’t say the same thing.” The words slipped from your mouth faster than you could stop yourself, and faster than Wanda could say it.  

He looked back at you in amusement, not expecting a quip. Playfully pouting, he responded with, “Aw, kapička, I thought you were on my side.”  

“Taking multiple bullets wasn’t enough?” you jested. 

“I’ll find a way to make it up to you-” he murmured smoothly with a toothy grin to accompany it. Planting his hand on your cot and resting his weight on that one arm as he leaned to the side slightly, hand on his hip, until Clint cut in. 

“Jesus get a room.” Clint feigned a face of disgust with his nose scrunching up.

“Is this not their room?” Pietro retorted. 

“Temporary.” you added.  

“And with guests.” Wanda joined in while raising a brow and folding her arms in judgement of her brother.

“Or you and Clint could always leave.” Pietro said in a light-hearted manner and shrugged.

“Yeah, about that-” Clint was cut off before he could finish, as the rest of your teammates, both avengers and agents, filed in with stuffed animals, cards, and balloons, trying to keep a hushed voice despite being glad you were conscious.  

“Oh wow” you muttered with wide eyes, seeing them crammed in like a pack of sardines.  

They all practically touched shoulders and you could tell Pietro and Wanda were getting uncomfortable with the stuffiness of the room. Pietro tensed and Wanda glanced at him then returned her gaze back to you. 

“We should go, but we’ll see you later. Rest easy please.” she said gently before her brother nodded. “And don’t try to break anymore ribs” he murmured with a small smirk before a blur of blue and white filled the area they used to stand in.

Although, you didn’t miss the blue envelope that lightly plopped onto your bedside table at the same time that everyone was bombarding you with questions.

————————————

Following Chapters:

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

A/N: any suggestions, critiques, or thoughts would be much appreciated, thank you for reading! 🫶

[arkscape]

yandere sonamy au brain dump ignore typos it’s 4 am

but sonic is the yandere and amy is totally oblivious while still being head over heels for him. she constantly worries that he probably thinks she’s some stalker because they keep ending up bumping into one another and while it makes her heart flutter she’s scared he’ll catch on and hate her!! i mean sonic’s so popular and cool how could he ever want to date someone as boring and unfortunate as amy :( (her own thoughts) of course, sonic’s such a kind person he’d never be mean to her about it, but that would jsut make her feel worse because how could she makes such a sweet and kind and polite guy uncomfortable!!! and she’s super guilty about getting jealous when she sees pretty girls interacting with him (also all her own thoughts)

little does amy know that sonic is a total creep who has been following her around (“to protect her!” he says but we all know that’s not true)

he’ll pop up at every possible moment and turn if he smells the slightest bit of competition or danger for the pink cutie and she’s just so oblivious that she doesn’t notice him lurking around every corner, monitoring

and he DOES feel guilty about it, but only a little bit. i mean, it’s his duty to protect her right? she said herself that it was destiny for them to meet, so it’s his duty; his destiny to never leave her side! no matter if it means invading her personal space!! plus she doesn’t notice anyway, she’s far too trusting for her own good so he needs to be around to catch any evil in the world before it can taint her !!!

and yes sonic may come off as selfish or maybe even a jerk to others because of this, but the extras don’t matter when amy sees him as a light in the darkness and a perfect person right! so of course he’ll make sure to treat her extra gently, extra sweet since it’s what his destined other deserves, right?

and of course he knows she’s strong! he just doesn’t want her to ever have to exert herself. so he’ll take care of everything for her.

sonic is involved in after school activities like the track team and such, but luckily amy seems to love doing homework out on the field during track practice, “what a selfless girl, making things easy on me” sonic thinks as he never lets his eyes stray from her during their practice. he’s the best anyway so it’s not like it’s interfering with his performance

and yes it maaaaay be creepy to collect her things: pens, hairties and pins, charms and lip balm, notebooks, little trinkets and lost pieces of her uniform. and he’ll swear to you he’s just keeping them safe to return them to her once she needs them, but we both know that not all of those items amy actually lost herself.

amy is also just a bit creepy in the sense of like anime girl with a crush staying behind in school and sitting behind him in classes because she just thinks he’s so cool, and sonic notices and thinks it’s sooooo cute but he also wishes she’d just let him lurk behind her and always have his eyes on her

anyways freak4freak sonamy

also shadow is also probably a bit of a stalker for amy that’s just my sonshadamy brain

he’d probably think sonic is absolutely abhorrent and disgusting and use the excuse that he’s just “protecting” her from a creep like sonic when he’s also a freak

they’re all freaks

i love freaks

that’s all ehehehehehehehehe goodnight

[babylacedream]

until they find me here, so wish me luck

i always find myself back to you જ part 2 of ?

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x f! reincarnated autistic reader

warning: struggling with bucky's death, grief, yandere themes, anxiety, brainwashed!bucky & obsessed!bucky, violence, angsty

summary: it's 1991. after being reincarnated with your past memories from your life as bucky's childhood friend. it felt like losing him all over again. you were currently working in a tiny store, usually working night shifts. you went out to take out the trash when you stumbled upon a familiar yet beautiful man.

notes: inspired by pinkpantheress unreleased song called phelia, I recommend listening.

please remember i am autistic, so i will be writing my personal experience with my autism. thanks!

After your pinky swear with Bucky. You hoped he would surely come back. Right? Wrong. All you received was a locket that Bucky wanted to give you after coming back to you. A beautiful one at that.

You glided your fingers around the locket, and you opened it. A picture of you and Bucky from your graduation stirred your unresolved emotions about his death. He promised he would come back to you. He broke your promise.

Shortly after receiving the devasting news, you passed away at just twenty-six years old. You guessed from heartbreak; the news was too much for you.

Now, it's 1991. You were reborn in 1971 in Charlotte, North Carolina. It's even stranger; you have the memories of your past life. You live in Arlington, Virginia, in your small but comfortable apartment. You are twenty years old, once again.

You looked entirely different in your past life, which is a given. You'd been carrying yourself with your graceful appearance in the 40s, and now, you were gifted a gentle appearance from your new parents that fit with its era.

Currently, you are working in a small retail store that sells movies. Fluorescent lights, the smell of dusty old carpet, popcorn, and the occasional laughter of customers or kids happily picking out a VHS tape to watch at their home.

A huge contrast to the world you were used to in the 1940s, the war years. You were used to jukeboxes, typewriters, and trending clothes at the time.

Kids these days use radios or cassette tapes and keyboards with monitors, and the clothes are certainly different.

You were a proud employee of this small store; being the employee of the month was encouraging, and you took pride in your work duties, you were sufficient for your manager, and you worked alone on night shifts.

This era started growing on you; women could work without being discriminated against, and you got the same pay rate as men. It's heaven on earth.

You were on your "lunch break," and by that, you meant just standing in front of the register eating a small snack. You finished eating your pomegranate, wiping your fingers with a napkin.

You looked around the now-empty store. The feeling made you a bit sad, thinking of Bucky. You lifted your hand onto the necklace, holding on the locket on your neck, caressing your fingers against it. The one Bucky left for you.

How were you able to get this locket? Funny story. You found it being sold in an antique shop; you guessed your landlord in the 40s decided to donate it since no one else could claim it. Not really funny, but you thought it felt a bit like fate to find it all the way in Virginia of all places.

You loved making yourself busy to distract you from any more depressing thoughts. So, you decided to organize the many VHS tapes in each section, making sure all items were neatly placed.

Now, you went to the candy section, pulling the items, making sure there was no expired candy. A few you had to throw out, but you had extra boxes of candy in the back to refill them.

It was midnight already. It was time to take out the trash. You went to each trash bin around the store, placing all the bags in one large trash bag.

You opened the back door, placing a wooden stick your manager gave you to hold the door open. You lifted the trash bag and walked out to the dumpster.

You opened the dumpster enclosure gates and threw the trash bag into the dumpster. You were about to lock the gate for the night when you heard a thud coming from behind the dumpster.

Could it be a cat? Oh, you loved cats! You decided to help it out of the dumpster enclosure; it's too stinky for a precious cat to be hiding behind the dumpster. You opened the gate again and crouched to not scare the cat. You hoped it was a black cat; they were so adorable.

But all you found was a man sitting on the ground against the dumpster. It was hard to see, especially since it was dark. You needed a flashlight. You hurried inside, grabbing a flashlight and placing the wooden stick on the door.

You quietly crouched again and made your way behind the dumpster. He was still there; you could hear breathing. You turned on the flashlight to finally see.

The large man had long brown hair and wore a mask, and you could see dark-smeared eyeshadow around his eyes. He was also wearing a tactical outfit.

Why would someone be wearing these? But the weirdest thing was that his left arm was metal, completely missing the blood on his metal fist from how awestruck you were.

You caught blood on his right hand. He's hurt. You went again inside the store and grabbed a Medkit, forgetting all about the wooden stick you were supposed to put between the door.

You placed the flashlight on the floor, took out alcohol, and dipped some on a gauze. You carefully leaned over his legs, grabbing his hand and rubbing the wet dipped gauze, but when you wiped the blood away, there was no cut or wound.

You thought he was injured, but you could have never been so wrong. Suddenly, the man grabbed your neck, making you grunt as he slammed you on the ground. He was directly on top of you as he pinned you down with his weight.

"H-hey, wait!" he tightened his hold around your fragile neck, making you groan. You struggled as you clawed at his metal hand, trying to escape, but his right hand pinned both your hands above your head.

The flashlight was illuminated so you could see he was assessing your body to see if you had any weapons. But then his eyes went to your locket. He let go of your hands and held the locket in his hand, loosening his hold around your neck, making you gasp for air.

He opened the locket to see the picture of you and Bucky. You thought he was about to rip it off your neck, damaging your precious locket, so you hit him in the groin, making him let go of your locket and get off you, and you kicked him in the face with your leg.

You scurried off the ground to see that his mask had fallen off, revealing that familiar face that you thought you had started to forget.

You breathed heavily, still terrified of the almost-dying encounter. "B-bucky?" He quickly looked up at you and was about to lunge at you, but you screamed and dashed out of the dumpster enclosure, slamming the gate shut, locking it, and running to the back door.

You finally realize that you have forgotten the wooden stick, and a panting breath escapes from you, trying to open the door frantically.

"Open, please!"

You looked behind you to see that he had leaped out of the enclosure without even having to unlock the gate. The frightening man that had the face of Bucky glared at you. You bolted around for the front door of the store.

You opened the door shakily, hearing the jingled nose above you, and locked the front door, looking around the windows for that... thing.

You backed away from the door, almost tripping on some boxes you left on the floor. You took out the lavender sachet you kept in your pocket to calm you down, and you breathed it in as you slumped to the floor and closed your eyes.

[kafus]

over the weekend at the knoxville regional pokemon championships, i met up with a longtime internet friend in person for the first time, and he traded me a very special pokemon - a unique celebi that takes a bit of context to explain the significance of

from november 2001 to january 2005, the building that is now a nintendo world store in new york city was actually an american pokemon center, which hosted the "Gotta Catch ‘Em All!" station, a large machine that you could pop your gold/silver/crystal cartridge into (or later ruby/sapphire/firered/leafgreen, but that's not relevant here) and get a special distribution pokemon unique to the store. often times these were normal pokemon in eggs with special moves they couldn't usually learn, but other times they ran distributions for shiny legendaries, and of course, the mythical celebi.

there's very few pictures of the machine and all of them are pretty low quality, but you can see an iteration of it here during the gen 3 era:

when PCNY (pokemon center new york) shut down, the machine and its contents were presumed lost forever, but due to the preservation efforts and the good luck of a few individuals, some of the distributions have been preserved, as well as parts of the machine and its software. this is extra incredible because almost all gen 2 save files from the time the machine was actually functional are long since wiped due to the battery inside dying, meaning that very very few of the gen 2 event pokemon distributed from this machine at the time still exist. i won't go super in detail on that in this post but you can read an article about all of that here (julie, the person who runs this historical PCNY fansite is incredibly passionate and if you want to know anything about the PCNY store i absolutely recommend reading her writing!)

so, one day when i was rambling to my friend (his name is Venty!) about my fascination with the PCNY machine, and how i wish i had been born early enough to experience that, as well as wishing that i could have traded with anyone in gens 1-3 as a child but never got to due to isolation, venty told me that he's actually friends with a guy (Professor Rex) who knows the guy who owns the remnants of the PCNY machine (Gridelin), and he would love to reach out and ask if there's any way rex could distribute a celebi to himself and trade it to him sometime so that eventually when me and venty met in person one day, he'd be able to trade the celebi to me.

i pretty much burst into tears and very passionately explained how much that would mean to me - not just because owning a celebi actually distributed from the historical PCNY distribution station is just... insanely cool, but because like i said, i had never traded anyone in the old internet-less generations of pokemon, and having that be my first was just... a monumental thought. i am deeply fascinated with old gen event distributions because of the tactile, interpersonal nature of them, in direct contrast with my isolation and loneliness as a child. it might sound silly to be so worked up over a collection of bytes/pixels, but i really couldn't believe venty would offer me something so kind. and not only did he offer to ask - rex said yes!!

so on may 21st last year (2023) rex traveled out and distributed the celebi to his pokemon silver cartridge. specifically, the celebi is from the "Celebi Present Campaign" which ran from the 22nd of november 2002 to the 28th of november 2002. the display on the monitor is the same video that would have appeared on the screen in the PCNY store, but flipped sideways here haha. (the gen 2 distributions were special and had custom animations for the legendaries and stuff, which you can watch here in full quality on gridelin's channel - there's videos of the other distribution animations on his channel, too!)

and then months later, during the weekend of august 11th 2023, rex and venty met up at the pokemon world championship in japan and rex traded the celebi to venty's gold cartridge...

...then, finally, just this past weekend, on sunday (february 4th 2024) venty and i finally met in real life for the first time at the knoxville TN regional pokemon championships, and with link cable in hand the celebi finally made its way to me in my hotel room, after crossing the ocean twice and passing through canada to the US to japan and back to the US...!!

gen 2 pokemon data isn't very complicated, but you can tell that my celebi is unique from the other PCNY celebis dumped online (here and here if you'd like to play with some of these historical pokemon yourself) because it has the trainer ID of 00204 which none of the publicly available celebis have - though of course to me, regardless of what becomes publicly available in the future (and i hope one day the common layperson can simply emulate the PCNY machine, video game preservation >>> unique collections always) this celebi will always be special and unique because of how it got to me, and because it represents my friendship with venty who i care so much about. it was an extremely kind gesture i will never forget and i can't believe how much traveling and how many people were involved with getting this tiny bundle of bytes and pixels to me. i hugged venty after the trade was done haha

oh, and by the way, don't worry, i have the hardware to back up my gen 2 save files so this celebi will never die even after my crystal cartridge battery eventually dies once more!! (also, while i don't think it would be an issue i do want to say please don't bother any of the people mentioned in this post...! gridelin & co are working on making the distribution machine in question available for anyone to use, it'll come out whenever it's out and for now there are dumps of the events that were recovered. i would not want them to receive any annoying requests for pokemon because of me. thank you!)

[saltyyuuri]

POOKIE PLEASEPLEASE PLEASE MAKE A PT.2 FOR THE CYPHER SMUT I BEG WITH MORE CHOKING AND DEG🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️😓😓😓😋😋😋

OKAY OKAY I GET THE POINT YOU GUYS WANT TO PART TWO. But on the side note are you guys sincerely okay-like sincerely. I already know the answer but I'm still taking a second to ask it. Anyways -

Oh extra PS, I decided I was going to make a small reference to my fic "writer's block", if you read it you might recognize something in there too. Because this is just too perfect to reference writer's block.

PLEASE KNOW THIS IS ROUGHER THAN PART 1, BE WARNED

_________________________________________

🃏 Keep up 🃏

Cypher x FEM!reader

Pt.2

(Part 1 here for context)

Song: roll the dice, odetari.

Words: 5000

Warnings: foul language, nsfw, bdsm, degradation, sadomazo, potential violence/mention of it, CNC, knife, slightly more extreme kinks for you weirdos (no offense), my sanity, my lack of sleep, okay this is getting off subject....

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

"how much longer do I need to be tied to this chair?" You asked as he broke the silence, it had been practically hours at this point, occasionally getting some water and snacks whenever he got up and remembered to do so-he had been so busy going through all the files on the computer and at this point your shoulders were getting completely cramped from being handcuffed behind the chair.

"as long as I want. And I told you to be quiet." Cypher said-his tone firm and nearly cold as he spoke, his mechanical blue eyes glued onto the screens of his computer as he was going through all the files. You were still pretty exhausted, your body was strained and starting to get various cramps. Despite the moment of frustration relief you two had earlier, right now your body was in pain pretty much everywhere.

"for once I'm not going to be sarcastic but I am sincerely in pain. I'm getting cramps all around, mostly my shoulders from being handcuffed like this. Can I just at least-" you started to say again, for once your sarcastic tone completely gone considering your own comfort was completely destroyed at this point. Cypher barely glanced up-his attention mostly on his computer. It was as if he was considering it but then promptly ignored you again.

You let out a sigh, tugging at the handcuffs once again to try to reposition your arms a bit. You were tired and you were uncomfortable, definitely not a good combo. And that was without counting the fact that you hadn't gone to the bathroom in hours. You were just hoping he would be done with the files soon enough-that he had some fancy program scanning them for him because one terabyte would take him a whole week to go through-and you didn't want to be stuck like this for a week.

It was only about an hour later when Cypher finally got up again and a strike of Hope went through you. He made his way towards you and much to your content he finally undid the handcuffs from the chair-allowing you to move your arms a bit but staying very close by, monitoring your every move. When you got a second to stretch-he was quick to put the handcuffs back on you but this time not against the chair-your arms cuffed towards the front. Before you could protest he was already tugging on them and dragging you along-forcing you forward and making you stumble a bit.

You did your best to not trip over, following him. "Where the hell are you taking me-" the words came out on their own, having lost the sarcastic Edge from the discomfort. "The restroom." He answered shortly, his voice was still sharp as he spoke. He just dragged you along, opening a side door to the room-it seemed there was a personal bathroom right there. He tugged your handcuffs all the way to the toilet first; and when you thought he'd at least give you some privacy, he just stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, waiting.

You know you didn't have much grounds to complain and you also knew that if you did complain, things could probably go much worse. You did your business despite being watched like a hawk and despite having your hands cuffed-doing as you could to take care of yourself. As you were going to pull back up your pants with your cuffed hands, he stepped forward and put a foot on your pants, forcing them to stay on the ground.

"why. Just why." Came out of your mouth as your head snapped up, a look of annoyance and irritation on your face. "You desperately need a shower." He said, and you could almost see the mocking expression on his face with just how he was speaking. Before you could protest he was already taking care of getting your top off-only undoing the handcuffs for a short moment to get the shirt off. And then it seemed like he was having a moment of consideration once more, deciding to keep the handcuffs off of you.

Before anything could be said or done you were pushed in the shower-it was one of those white showers that were in the corner of the bathroom, a rounded exterior with glass doors. Your clothes were piled on the floor and he was twirling the handcuffs around on his finger, arms half crossed and his eyes glued on your nude body in the shower. "Go on. I don't have all day." He said firmly, leaning against the wall.

"so you're just profiting off the moment for your own sick pleasure?" You said in annoyance, starting the water and flinching as it started cold-a mix of being unpleasant but also soothing for the aches around your body. "Oh sweetheart, you weren't giving me that speech earlier when you were acting like a whore." He said, his tone near cocky as he spoke, still twirling the handcuffs with his finger. "Yeah except earlier I wasn't in discomfort. You're such a fucking asshole." You said from the shower as you started to wash up-only having your back side towards the glass. You didn't want to give him more of a view-but you also couldn't hide much.

"Poor thing. Would have figured you liked it, seeing that having a gun down your throat is what turned you on, out of assumed some pain of sitting in an uncomfortable position for hours would have made you a hot mess." He said with his voice dripping with sarcasm, making you grumble in the shower. "Fuck you. Sincerely, fuck you." You said out loud, rinsing off the soap from your body. "We've just done that sweetheart. Is that your way of asking for a second round?" He asked, his cocky tone already coming back as he spoke, the handcuffs that were twirling on his finger stopped-catching them with the same hand he was twirling them with. His eyes scanned over you once again.

"definitely not. I'd rather be walked like a dog then do that again." You hissed out-even though you had to admit you did like what had happened; you just were so annoyed and frustrated from the hours you had to sit in discomfort, only now just getting a glimpse of relief as the cramps that had been starting to form we're now getting loosened up from the warm water, washing off any traces of him other than the markings. And honestly? If it weren't for all that you would have said yes-you don't know why he just knew how to work you so well, and you weren't complaining...

"careful; seeing how much you enjoyed being degraded, you might actually love being walked like a dog." Well, he wasn't wrong. But you didn't want to prove him right either. Despite the idea of it almost having a slight appeal, much to your twisted dismay, You just scoffed, shutting off the shower despite wanting to stay longer, walking out dripping wet. A puddle was going to form under you if you didn't get a towel, but seeing as he didn't take any out, you just assumed he'd let you drip off.

He chuckled, and you already knew he was going to be up to something. He walked back over, snapping the handcuffs back onto your wrist. He didn't even get you dressed-pulling you out of the bathroom completely nude and dripping wet. "Wait a damn minute-I'm not even fucking dressed-"you started to say before he turned around briefly as soon as you were back in the room that consisted of his office-one of his feet going to kick behind your knee. You roughly fell forward-on all fours in front of him.

"you said you'd rather be walked like a dog? Then that's exactly what's going to happen." He said, his tone almost sadistic as he spoke. You barely registered the words that were said; he was already grabbing the blindfold ribbon he had used previously, tying it around your neck. It wasn't too tight but it was definitely not loose either. You could already feel heat building inside of you again- even if you wanted to refuse, your body was winning this battle over your mind. He proceeded to walk back to his desk after. You wanted to get up, you wanted to go back to that damn bathroom and put your clothes back on-and as you were just trying to get back up; he put his foot back down on the chains of the handcuffs, forcing you back down to the ground. This time he had a rope-nodding it around the blindfold that was around your neck.

"Bad dog, you're supposed to say. Have you not ever been properly trained?" He asked in a mocking voice. The degradation once again was starting to get to you, but you didn't want to let him have that satisfaction. "Go to fucking hell." You said almost immediately, glaring up at him. He just laughed, tugging on the rope he had tied around the blindfold on your neck, walking forward and forcefully tugging it along with him. When you didn't want to budge it just choked you, crawling forward to not get choked again and gasping for air.

The choking sensation just vividly brought your body back to the same moment where he started choking you with his hand- how much you liked it. You could already feel the heat growing again, and you knew you wouldn't be able to resist it. You were leaving wet spots on the floor from not getting dried off after the shower, being walked like a dog around his office. It was a degrading experience. And much to your surprise; you enjoyed it probably more than you should have.

"that's no way to talk to your master. Bad dog-" he said with the same cocky tone, yanking on the rope once again and watching as you choked. You already felt the heat in your core, your mind finally just giving up on its previous frustration. But you were still going to talk back nevertheless. "Fuck... Off..."you mumbled out, crawling forward once again.

"for a bitch, you definitely have one hell of a mouth on you." He muttered out, yanking you forward once again. He took quite a few steps forward, heading to the small sofa that was in his office before he sat down, tugging you forward once again. And there you sat on all fours in front of him, leashed up like a dog. He lifted one of his feet and put it against your head. "I really shouldn't have shown you to be this witty." He continued, pulling on the leash a little harder while his foot held your head in place. The blindfold that was being used as a makeshift collar was starting to choke you, feeling the familiar tingling in your limbs once again from the lack of air.

"And you... Are just a twisted... Bastard." You managed to choke out, gasping slightly for air as he spoke. "Your relentless... It's a shame you're putting it to use in the wrong place, whore." He said, leaning forward as he removed his foot from your face, cutting some slack on the rope as you gasped for air. Before you could even mutter out something else, he reached into one of his trench coats pockets, pulling out a metal object. At first you weren't sure what it was until he flipped it, a butterfly knife resting in his hand.

Your eyes widened and your body froze once again, just like earlier when he had the gun. Fear started to settle, on all fours and on a leash, the heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach and now fear added to the equation, a similar mix to the earlier's events. He brought the dull part of the knife up against your throat, letting the cold metal touch your skin.

"it's so amusing to watch you change your attitude every time your life is on the line. You become such a good slut when you're scared." He said, adding pressure. It wasn't the sharp end of the knife but it was still pressing into your throat in a way that made your heart beat harder and harder in your chest, your breath strained. Even when you tried to swallow, it was almost as if you were trying to be careful. He moved the blade, dragging it down your neck except this time he was purposely letting the tip drag, not putting enough pressure to create cuts but enough to leave a threat-a threat that if he did decide to put pressure, you'd get cut.

"I want you to beg. I want you to beg for me to not cut you, to not leave scars all over you with this knife. And I want you to apologize for your attitude." He said in a commanding voice, his order coming out just as he paused the knife right over your artery, the tip of it still poking at your skin without cutting it. Your breath got stuck in your throat for a second. Why was this turning you on? Why was it that both times he was threatening your life it was turning you on? You are really starting to question your own sanity at this point.

"please -" you started to say, taking a sharp inhale in while also trying to be careful to not move your neck an inch. His knife started to drag down again. "Please- don't cut me. Please-" you said, your voice bordering a whimper as you spoke. He dragged the tip near your shoulder, feeling it the whole time. "And?" He pressured on, turning the knife so that the blade was towards your shoulder now-just gently resting against it without applying any pressure. It was right beside a bite mark he had left.

"I-Im sorry-... I'm sorry for my attitude-" you said in a stammer that was half whimpered- fear still bubbling inside of you along with arousal. "Please -" you added on again, trying to keep your breathing light despite it all. "And tell me, you disgusting whore, how turned on are you right now?" He asked again, feeling the blade ghosting above your skin as he moved it again, his movement was extremely precise as to not apply any pressure that could cut the skin. Your breath was shaky, fighting off a whimper that was building in your throat.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing, but you knew that if you didn't talk the knife would start cutting. You took a shaky breath. "Very." You said quietly. The blade went back up against your throat, this time the sharp end was against it. He applied light pressure, enough for the presence to be felt but not enough for it to cut once more. "Louder. And say it properly, stupid bitch." He said, his tone commanding.

"I am... Very turned on-" you spoke a bit louder, your voice coming out as a shaky whimper as you spoke. The answer seemed to satisfy him, lowering the knife before flipping it back closed, putting it back in his pocket. "Turn around." He commanded again-one of his feet already pushing against your arm to force you to turn. He had given just enough loose on the rope to allow you to turn around while still being on all fours, the blindfold turning to adjust around your neck as a collar would. The moment that your rear was facing him, he put a foot between your shoulder blades and pushed you down, a grunt coming out of your mouth from the forceful push.

Your chest was flat on the ground, your rear end was up. He was still holding the rope, holding it with just enough tension to cut off some air flow but not fully, making your breathing ragged. The heat that had pooled at your core was still there, your face flushed now that he could see everything. He could see exactly how it turned on you had gotten.

He hummed out-removing his foot from your back. "Stay like you are, dog." He said, relieving some tension on the rope for just a brief moment. This time he had removed his hat, reaching down to place it on the back of your head-so if you tried to turn around the only thing you'd see is the brim of the hat. Since the blindfold was currently being used, this was the best he could do for the time he needed to undress.

You once again heard him start to mess with his clothes, taking them off before his trench coat also ended around your shoulders, this time making sure no matter how much you moved your head around you wouldn't be able to see anything going on behind you. You let out a whimper, hands gripping onto the fabric of the trench coat, the only thing you could really grab.

"Good girl." He simply said before tugging on to the leash again, hard enough to lift your head a bit and choke you, but due to all the fabric around you and the hat you still wouldn't have been able to turn your head to see. You already knew he took off his mask since his voice was much clearer once again. You felt one of his bare hands feel around your thighs, pulling at the skin occasionally to look over the previous marks that were left.

"You know, just for having an attitude with me earlier... I think you still deserve a bit of punishment." He said, his sadistic voice still remaining as you still had a pit of fear in your stomach, not knowing what was coming next. But once again it wasn't just fear, the damn mix of excitement and arousal remained, and any question you had about what was about to happen got answered pretty fast.

You felt a sharp sting on your behind, the sound of a slap resonating in the relatively quiet room. You let out a choked moan, still being choked by the leash as he felt the sting, the slight burn from being slapped harshly on the ass. "You're going to count out loud just how many spankings you're getting." He ordered you, hearing some shuffling behind you. There was a small pause.

"I said you're going to count. I haven't heard you start counting yet." He repeated once again in that commanding, near sadistic voice. "One-" you choked out, still panthing as you had a bit of trouble breathing from the leash. His hand came down on you once again, another sharp sting and slight burn could be felt. "Two-"you whimpered out, gasping. It wasn't long until you were up to 10, tears In your eyes, your hands balling in fists around the fabric of his trench coat he had tossed around your shoulders.

Only then the leash finally loosen a bit, allowing you to breathe properly. Your mind was completely blank at this point, just a whimpering mess on the ground, on all fours in front of him, your wet cunt and red ass fully exposed to him. "You are such a whore. Taking all of this while just moaning and whimpering? You're such a twisted little slut it's almost disgusting." He said, practically mocking you. His hand started feeling up your thigh, smoothly sliding onto your red ass, feeling the heat of it from getting slapped multiple times. He let out a small chuckle-but his touch was gentle. He run a thumb over your skin, almost as if trying to massage it gently. It was such a stark contrast from just seconds earlier, a glimpse of relief in it all.

"say it. Say that you're a disgusting whore." He said-his touch still gentle on you despite the commanding voice, despite the slight sadistic hint in his voice. "I'm... I'm a disgusting whore-" you choked out, your voice a whimper at this point. Tears had ran down your cheeks, still catching your breath as you spoke. He let out of hum of satisfaction, shifting once again behind you.

There was another tug at the leash-making you gasp. You barely even had time to register anything going on, just like the first time he roughly thrusted into you. It just slid in on its own, with how wet you were, he didn't have any issues to just fuck you right there. Your voice had cracked so much at this point that the moans came out mostly in whimpers and gasps- the leash tugging at your neck and occasionally cutting your breathing only making it worse.

Your body was extremely tense, a warm knot already forming in your stomach. He was grunting, letting out a moan of his own as he kept thrusting roughly inside of you. "Such a pathetic whore, look at you being just a little whimpering mess." He said, his voice breathless as he spoke and continued his pace. At one point he finally let go of the leash and put both of his hands on your hips, practically pulling you forward to meet him mid thrust, making it much rougher on the receiving end.

"I'm... A good whore-" you whimpered out through the thrusts, barely catching your breath, still holding on to the trench coat as if your life depended on it. Your walls were tightening around him, you already know that you were on edge. "Oh you must definitely are a good whore, such a good fucking pathetic slut-" he groaned, one of his hands reaching under you a bit. His body was leaning just above yours, but his fingers going to meet your core once again.

He moved them at a rapid pace, almost purposely trying to overstimulate you immediately. You let out a cry; you couldn't even control yourself at this point. Your orgasm washed over you faster than you would have expected, your legs starting to shake quite a bit while you back arched, pressing your chest even more into the floor. You practically screamed his name despite your voice cracking, another flow of tears going down your cheeks.

"fuck, you're tight." He said, still thrusting roughly despite the fact you had already came. You knew he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied-only getting more and more overstimulated us he didn't stop rubbing your clit either. You were just a shaking mess under him, broken moans and cries coming out of you. He let out a sadistic chuckle, then a moan followed on.

His Pace finally started to slow down a bit, both of you just catching your breath before he pulled out. You stayed in your position despite how shaky you were getting and the pain that was building in your legs-hearing him move behind you. After a couple of seconds his hand, extremely gentle and careful with his touch, pushed you back down to the ground fully so that you were laying on your stomach. It allowed you to stretch your legs a bit and relax them. Your breath was still a bit rough and hiccuped-the tears from earlier were still there.

He took a few moments before removing the makeshift collar from your neck, it had left a red mark all around, complementing the bruising from the choking, the bites and the scratches. You truly looked ruined at this point. He didn't see your face because he didn't want to go in front of you-still unmasked and fully exposed, he didn't want his identity seen like this-but some of the tears that had run down your cheeks and onto your neck, he did feel them. His hands had paused after taking off the makeshift leash, now holding just the blindfold.

He was debating inside of him what to do next, letting out a sigh after a couple of moments. You felt the blindfold getting tied around your eyes once again, being unable to see once more. "Please - ... No more... I can't -" you started to whimper out, you truly wouldn't be able to handle another round at this point, your body was aching at how rough he had been- it truly was extremely pleasurable but also extremely demanding on your body. "I'm not going to do anything more. I just don't want you to see me." He said firmly, but his voice didn't have the commanding Edge or the sadistic hint to it anymore.

He picked up his clothes from around the room, sliding them on but not his mask quite yet. "I'm going to lift you up." He gave you a quick warning before crouching beside you, his hands gentle and careful as he snuck them under you, carefully lifting you from your position on the floor, laying on your stomach, and putting you onto the couch just behind you, on your back. You let out a whimper since your ass genuinely hurt from getting spanked-which he understood pretty fast.

"I know, I'm sorry, give me a moment."he simply said before you could hear him walking off to a different part of the office. You couldn't see him and you didn't know what he was doing-just feeling the pain in your rear end, trying to prop it up a bit. But your legs were aching quite a bit so it wasn't really helping. After a couple of seconds he came back, one of his hands going under the bottom of your back to lift you a bit-then you felt something cold.

You took a guess that he probably wrapped some ice in a towel-or something of the sorts. But the cold feeling was definitely welcome and much more comfortable. Then he finally got to cleaning you up, instead of using wet wipes this time he actually got a warm washcloth and was gentle the entire time. He understood that what he had done was much rougher, much harsher and he needed to be more gentle.

Once he was done with it all he slowly got you dressed-then gently cuffed you onto the couch. "I'm sorry, I do need to keep your handcuffed still until you're in the clear." He quickly apologized, but you were too tired to even complain about it at this point. The couch was very comfortable compared to the metal chair or the floor-so being handcuffed was just the least of your issues at the moment, completely exhausted.

He brought you over some water and help you drink it, going all out with the aftercare and even getting you something to eat that was light and easy. When he was certain he had done all he could, even putting a small blanket on you as you tried to relax your body, he finally took a small step back, his mask held in his hands. "Do you need anything else?" He asked you, even his tone had gone gentle now. "Thank you-" you managed to say, your voice was practically gone at this point so it was in a whisper.

He hummed, kneeling back down beside you. "I'll get you some honey and tea for your throat. Would you like that right now or do you want to rest?" He asked you, one of his hands gently resting onto your shoulder. "Later..." You practically whispered out, slightly shaking your head. He let out a small hum again. "Alright. You rest up-you deserved it." He said, lingering just a moment more. And after a few more moments he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

".... And you still don't have the decency to give me an actual kiss", you whispered out, once more not really able to talk properly due to your voice being gone. You heard Cypher let out an exasperated sigh; of course you would still have attitude after all of that. Of course. "You are insufferable." He huffed out, and once more you were quick to reply. "That's your own fault." And he couldn't disagree-he was the one to make you like this before Kingdom got a hold on you.

He just leaned in, his lips meeting yours for a proper kiss once more. It lasted longer than the first, gentler and not as rushed. When he pulled away, this time you were actually considering asking him for another one- and it also somewhat baffled you that he could be threatening your life while fucking you and then suddenly become much more gentle. It was a stark contrast-but you also knew you couldn't really comment on it considering your own contrast.... Being witty, sarcastic and unapologetic, reduced to a whimpering brainless mess that enjoys the most twisted things- and it seemed the two of you had that in common.

Another kiss was placed on your lips, surprising you a bit but trying to savor it nevertheless. This time when he pulled away you heard him slide back on his mask, adjusting it briefly before his gloved hands made their way back towards the blindfold, gently untying it. You blinked a few times, taking in your surroundings. He stood above you for a moment, the blindfold in hand-but then reaching down to the blanket to pull it up a bit higher. "Just rest. I'll bring you the tea and honey when you wake up." He said once more, heading back to his desk to continue sorting the files on the hard drive he had taken from you.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

CARMEN SANDIEGO? In 2024? It's more likely thank you think! Please excuse the shit quality for some reason I wasn't allowed to upload the normal pdf and I had to upload a fucking screenshot???

So my friend convinced me to watch Carmen Sandiego and since he's watching ALL of Ninjago for me I thought it was the least I could do to watch four season of a show with a pretty decent concept but uh... yeesh, don't get me wrong the show is really fun but lord have mercy does it have problems especially the last two seasons which were just so wildly disappointing to me. It went from a show with an interesting look on morals to pure pro-cop and mostly black and white thinking so quick (that not mentioning the breaking up a found family full of people with abandonment issues) it was honestly just so disappointing so me and the friend who introduced it to me decided to rewrite it! (I will not be animating nor do I plan on doing more than MAYBE a comic or art piece here and there because my chronic pain ridden ass can not handle that much lol)

The main goals are to:

1) Flesh out characters that aren't Carmen and actually give them reactions based on their lived experiences and how they might realistically react instead of what the show needed to move the plot along

2) Having characters other than Carmen be actually relevant to the plot the main one being Chase Devineaux who we're gonna kind of have as a parallel to Carmen (trust me yall) as kind of a "What if Carmen didn't have her friends/family to ground her and fall back on" but for all the Chase fans out there (gods I hope there's some other than me) he will be getting a happy ending but bro is getting put through the RINGER first

3) Have both A.C.M.E (now standing for Administration for Containing and Monitoring Evil) and V.I.L.E be the bad guys. Also just as an extra bit of fun we're making VILE a full blown cult, they were very cult like in the show so we're just gonna make it one. Both are going to be very morally questionable and while it'll take a bit longer for ACME to show it's true colors don't you worry they definitely will ;)

4) We're doing canonical lgbtq+ rep, I know the show teased a lot of relationships and really only gave yall background gays not to say thats bad but we can do better than just a brief shot of a damn taco truck. I mean like come on in a story about a young woman going against the government for the greater good why not put some rep into it ya know!

5) We're making it light sci-fi, not like SUPER high tech but definitely beyond what we've got currently, as shown with Carmen's prosthetic, and don't worry I'm doing my research as a disabled person I know how it feels to be misrepresented or ignored so I want to make sure I'm being realistic

6) PLAYER ISN'T GOING TO BE A CHILD! I don't know if this bothered anybody else but to me it was really weird that this 16 year old's only friends were in their 20s!

Alright I think that's what I'm gonna say for now, I'd love it if yall tuned in for updates if your curious since this is a passion project for me and my friend and we're having a blast writing it!

As always I am still working on stuff for Ninjago cause I could never abandon my one true love, currently there's a Pixal drawing in progress (it's giving me hell T-T) something for Cole and Geo, and something of Sora MAYBE even Euphrasia if I'm feeling up to it.

Having said that I hope yall have a great day/night and PEACE OUT!