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#and YES i know it's an image and description on the screen but it looks so GOOD
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HELLO HELLO!! Chatterbox anon :D things are good, got C1 Tighnari, C5 Collei, C6 Diona and C6 fishcl and i'm saving up for Kokomi now!! speaking of, another thing to add on for the last scenario; setting up camp. cooking together. learning how to travel with the new things. noting down so many details about the mushrooms, the animals and the flowers (mostly S/O, who keeps notebooks to remember the details of their travels) + imagine if the readers special dish was canonically Childe's favourite as well as faul legacy's favourite!! + eating food in the city!! being middle eastern i absolutely adore and approve the food in this update.. and esp the new ingrident description of "as people from Sumeru say, 'spice goes well with everything'!" because my Turkish heart approves. (bonus if S/O knows the recepies from heart!!) + last but not least; jumping on the trampoline mushrooms!!
those are some amazing pulls Chatterbox!!! how's Tighnari? i've heard he's actually really good and does a bunch of damage :DDD (KOKOMI IS AMAZING I CAN TELL YOU THAT SHE CARRIES ME THROUGH DANGEROUS AREAS!!!)
ohh my goodness imagine Childe insisting on carrying you over ravines and up mountains because of Sumeru's terrain- he can fly, after all, but you can't!! you could get hurt, having to climb up and down so often (and he KNOWS you'll do it, no matter the danger, because you're curious and inquisitive and hungry for knowledge) so he carries you in his harms, claws gripping you gently, until he sets you down wherever you want to be, and when you thank and pat him on the head with that broad smile of yours he can feel his wings flutter happily <33
he likes reading over your notebook with you too!!! after an exciting day of exploring Sumeru with you, Childe loooves setting up camp (since he can't follow you into cities) and leaning on your shoulder as you look through your notes for the day. if you're not too tired, you'll read aloud to him as he tugs you closer, letting you lean against his chest and ramble about all the new things you found. he keeps you warm, too, as the night turns cold, and you often fall asleep to the sound of his purrs, snuggled soundly into his lilac fluff
THE FOOD YES THE FOOD ALL THE FOOD FROM SUMERU LOOKS SO GOOD- any time you have to visit the city, you always pick up ingredients from the store so you can try out more recipes. Childe's unfamiliar with Sumeru cuisine but he loves EVERYTHING you make for him, and since you make something new everyday there's no shortage on tasty food!! you fish a lot as well, since he likes seafood, and when you happen to whip up your specialty dish he starts chirping and chittering because it's his absolute favorite!! it's a complete coincidence, but one you think is very welcome because of how much you love each other <33
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porcelana-r0ta · 9 months
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let the mourners come
Title: let the mourners come
Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users
Word Count: 3045
Summary:
It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.
It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.
xxXxx
When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”
So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 
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[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".
End ID]
Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 
Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am
The response from The Joker is quick:
Fourteen year olds are too confident these days
Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.
Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him
He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 
xxXxx
Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 
When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.
“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”
“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 
Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”
He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”
He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”
“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 
“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”
“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Hood, I—”
“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 
He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:
Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 
xxXxx
A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.
But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 
When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 
“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 
“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 
Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 
“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 
Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.
He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 
“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 
“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”
“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.
“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 
This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”
“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 
“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 
“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”
“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 
Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 
There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 
“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.
Oh, this kid is so dead. 
“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 
“What did I do?” 
She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 
“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”
“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 
“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 
“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”
“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 
“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 
Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”
“He sent you your IP Address.”
“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”
“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”
He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”
“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 
“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”
“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 
Damn, Jason curses to himself. 
“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 
“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 
“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 
“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 
Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 
All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.
“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”
“You would punish even yourself?”
“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 
“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”
“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 
Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 
Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 
Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 
“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 
Lab?
“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”
“Wh– hey! No fair!” 
“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 
She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 
“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”
“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.
Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 
A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 
The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 
The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 
“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 
Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?
“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 
“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 
“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 
“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 
“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 
“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 
“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 
As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 
“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 
“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 
She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 
Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 
“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”
“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”
She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 
“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 
“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 
Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.
“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 
She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 
“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 
Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 
“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 
Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 
She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”
“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 
Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 
xxXxx
Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 
Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls
Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 
i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺
xxXxx
Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)
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hyomaslut · 9 months
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──★ ˙🍆 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends. 18+!
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
��� ─ characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, you and chigiri are talking about npc college drama, proofread??? ✿ ─ notes: honestly the smau aspect was so hard cuz im a perfectionist and wanted read reciets and everything. all the apps for them suck. i managed :))) and i rlly hope you guys like it :)) feedback appreciated. i put chigiri's at the end cuz its so long. part 2 is here!!!!
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ISAGI YOICHI...
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your fingers fly across the keyboard to tell him that yes, you were very serious. isagi literally jumps out of bed to go shower and everything. he has been crushing on you since forever and god knows he’s not blowing this chance you’ve given him by sending a shitty picture. you get an image attachment 20 minutes later, yoichi standing in front of his foggy bathroom mirror, the phone in his hand covering half of his face. he’s barely out of the shower, hair dripping wet and towel hanging extremely loose around his hips. his other hand sits at the base of his dick, acting as both a size comparison and a way to draw your attention to it. it’s obviously of decent length as far as you could tell, but the girth. you cant even pretend your mouth doesn’t start watering at the sight.
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ITOSHI RIN...
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you don’t have time to feel all that bummed about it though, because within a few minutes you’re shocked to get a picture from rin, the camera facing downwards towards his legs. nothing would be all that out of the ordinary if it weren’t the obvious tent in his shorts. the fabric around his crotch looks stretched by his hard dick fighting against the confines of his soccer uniform. it’s not exactly what you asked for, but you can’t find it in you to complain, because it’s way more than you actually expected to get. your mind starts racing. he’s hard from just a few suggestive texts? that means one of two things. either he really is a virgin like you thought he’d be, and the littlest of acts gets him riled up. or he’s just that into you. both of those possibilities sounded like fun. and the idea of those possibilities made you greedy. enough to push your luck.
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MIKAGE REO...
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two pictures come in quickly and you laugh at the idea of him rushing to take these for you. he sends the first one, taken standing in front of the full length mirror in his boxers, dragging down the waist band of them so you can see the first few inches of his shaft, phone in front of his face. he’s perfectly clean shaven, zooming in closer, maybe he waxes it? you can’t help but be impressed by his attention to detail. it’s so reo that it makes you smile. second one is sitting down in some fancy looking suede armchair, underwear gone, cock in one hand while the other splays over the bottom half of his face, poorly covering the wide self-satisfied smirk. you assumed he set up his phone with a timer considering he wasn’t holding it. as you stare at it, the initial evaluating that everyone does when they receive a dick pic fades away, and you feel heat creep up your face. reo was really hot, and just this once you figured it wouldn’t hurt to tell him you thought so.
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CHIGIRI HYOMA...
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you get through the stressful minutes waiting for his response by chewing on your nails. maybe you really just fucked it all up. but then, to your surprise, a photo loads in. its hyoma sitting on his bed in front of his mirror, his fingers buried in his hair to push it out of his face in possibly the sexiest way you’ve ever seen. his other hand holds his phone, his pretty face in full view with his gaze locked on the screen. your eyes can’t help but travel down to the only part of your crush you haven’t seen. and boy was it worth the wait. his dick curves up towards his abs and its a lot bigger than you expected. long and a perfectly pink tip. you bite your lip at the thought of it stretching you out, and then feel slightly guilty for thinking of him that way, as if you haven’t done it plenty of times during your so-called dry spell. if the whole soccer thing doesn’t work out, you’re sure he could be a pin up model. or maybe a greek god.
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hyoma's got long again ;-; mb,,, but can you blame me??? i want to do a part two with at least nagi and bachira, but idk who else i want to include. open to suggestions ♡
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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am-i-interrupting · 1 month
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Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.
Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink
He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.
Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.
He was angry.
He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.
Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.
He recognized you. Why?
He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.
Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.
He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.
You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.
He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.
He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.
Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.
It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.
He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.
“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.
“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.
“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.
“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”
He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”
You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.
“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”
“To have a good time.”
“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”
The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.
“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.
“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”
“It’s one I play often.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”
Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.
He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.
Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.
“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.
“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”
“I am not—“
“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”
For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.
He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.
He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.
He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.
He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.
He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.
He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.
He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.
“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”
“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”
“Contracted?”
“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”
You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.
“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”
“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”
He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”
You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.
His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.
You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.
“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.
He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.
The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.
Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.
“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”
“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”
“True, but—“
You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.
“Oh, fuck.”
“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”
“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”
“I could be.”
You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.
You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”
You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.
You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.
He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.
He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.
You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.
“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.
“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”
You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”
He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.
You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.
“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.
Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.
“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”
You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.
“Good,” he choked out.
You hummed against his skin.
He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.
You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.
“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.
A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.
He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.
He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.
You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.
“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”
“Oh fuck.”
You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”
His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”
“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”
You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.
You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.
You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.
Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.
He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.
Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.
He could cum from just this alone.
However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.
“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”
The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.
He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.
You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.
You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.
Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.
You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.
“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.
His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.
He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?
God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”
“Fuck, please don’t.”
“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.
“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.
You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.
You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”
“Fuck.”
He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.
He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.
You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.
The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.
A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.
You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.
“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”
You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”
He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.
He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.
“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.
Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.
He rolled your clit between two knuckles.
“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”
He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.
He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.
Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.
“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.
He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.
“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.
“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.
“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.
He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”
“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.
A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.
That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.
The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:
I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction
You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention
I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be
He’s down on his knees begging me with please
Better than any of his fantasies
Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction
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generalsdiary · 2 months
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flowers... for me?
gn!reader x Dan Heng
warnings: none
word count: under 1k
a/n: i read somewhere that men only receive flowers at their funeral- while this ain’t that sad nor referenced to that, it made me think of how dan heng would react to getting flowers ^^, not beta read we miss firefly in this house
description: you gift flowers to him, sweet tooth-rotting fluff
„flowers“ you extend your hands, handing over the beautiful bouquet to him. „yes. I can see. they look fresh, healthy. T- hm... tulips, I believe? I'll have to check in the data bank.“ he graciously turns around tapping on a small screen in the archive. „yes I think those are tulips. I am not as acquainted as you are with Earth's specimen, so apologies for taking a moment.“
you smile, he must be oblivious. with hands still outstretched you softly call out his name, „Dan Heng. they're for you.“ there's a pause. he slowly turns back around to face you. „flowers? for... me?“ you nod. „there's a custom to gift one's significant other with gifts and or flowers.“ smiling brightly at the stoic man with a neutral expression which to you translates that he is flustered. „I see. well then, I grow more accustomed to such traditions of this planet you cherish each day.“ his fingers caress against yours as he takes the bouquet in his hands. „…thank you“
„you should put them in a vase and add some sugar in the water so they last long, and perhaps cut the stem diagonally, they will take water in better that way.“ adorably you give him directions on how to take care of it. „please, I know how to take care of plants and similar species.“ he sighs softly and closes his eyes for a moment. “any particular reason behind this kind of flowers? aren’t roses the most popular Earth’s flower?” “they are. I chose tulips, red tulips because of their meaning. but, also, you could try searching for the meaning or what they symbolize- I don’t have to tell you~” you smirk, taking a small step back, teasing the poor man. he sighs, reaching out with his free hand to delicately take your hand in his, “tell me. it is obvious you wish so”, his lips press soft kisses over your knuckles and fingers while you answer. “among other things, they mean eternal, forever-lasting love.” his lips freeze for a moment, hovering over your hand, the faintest blush covers his cheeks. he blinks a few times, and after gaining his composure he gazes at the flowers, “I didn’t take you for the romantic type”, moving his gaze at you. “it’s hard to not be a romantic with someone as gentle and patient as you.” you just seem to be out for his heart today, he glances away. between feeling flustered and happy he is reminded of how in love with you he is.
your hand cups his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone, nudging him ever so slightly with soft moves to look back at you. “you might want to press one flower between the pages of a book, to preserve it.” he nods, “yes, that is a pleasant idea. in that cause, one flower shall be preserved.” he picks out a tulip, pulling it out of the bouquet, and brings it to your lips, “may I request…?” he quietly, almost like he is shy in this bold action, asks. your lips move against the soft petals, careful to not create a crease on the fragile flower. to your surprise, Dan Heng also moves, his lips meeting the petals on the opposite side of the same flower, his cyan eyes making unmoving eye contact with you, making your heart skip a beat.
the intimate moment passes, yet it leaves a warm atmosphere behind it. Dan Heng sets the single tulip aside, eyes lingering on it and his fingers move along the stem. in his mind, he is appreciating the flower, and in your eyes, those fingers are moving a bit seductively, you almost want to call him out on flirting in such a coy nature. your mind begins to imagine how those fingers would feel on your cheek, caressing in the same gentle way, and your eyes close at the comforting image.
you feel a hand on your cheek, caressing gently, “are you alright?” Dan Heng wonders, you appeared to have wandered off in your head. you open your eyes and meet his. the sight and the feeling of his touch fill you with a sense of joy, peace, and contentment. “I love you.” the words come out easily, you say them like it is the most natural thing in the world. he smiles, looking down at the flowers in his other hand, and looks back up at you. “I love you too.”
his gaze is filled with love and loyalty to you only, so when he talks the words seem to blow past the both of you as your focus is on each other, “I’ll have to ask Pom-Pom about a vase then.” “they will be more than happy to help out, I’m certain” you know how Pom-Pom is excited to be needed and they will probably be overjoyed to have such a sweet request. you depart your lips to say how he had you jealous over a flower but the words die down in your throat as you two don’t break eye contact, you smile. it is a personal, romantic moment, belonging only to you two. he blinks, smiling as well, surprisingly he also states something similar to your thoughts- which is quite unlike him, “you had me jealous over a flower. kissing it so… gingerly.” Dan Heng chuckles dryly. “will you kiss me as tenderly as it?” he makes a simple hushed plea.
“always” you move closer, your nose brushing past his, making your lips meet. and you could swear they feel softer than the tulip’s petals and taste sweeter than the flower’s nectar.
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captain-hen · 11 months
Photo
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BUCK & EDDIE IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 6.13: mixed feelings (1/3)
[Image Description: 10 gifs of Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz and Christopher Diaz from 9-1-1 season 6, episode 13. The scene is taking place at daytime at the dining table in Buck's loft. Gif 1: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, a shot of Buck coming to sit down with a bowl of popcorn in his hand, squinting as he answers Chris' question about what's the square root of 162, "Well, it's not a perfect square. So that would be 12.727, I think." The shot shifts to Eddie, who looks over at Chris sitting next to him as he checks it on the calculator. Second, Chris says excitedly, "That's right. This is awesome, Dad. Buck knows everything." Eddie pouts slightly, scrunching up his face as he replies, "Yeah, yeah." Gif 2: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, a wide shot of the three of them together as Buck sits down, saying, "Not everything. I—I think it's just the math stuff. Second, Buck, takes a sip of his beer as he says, "Today, on the way to work, I was able to calculate exactly how many gallons of gas I needed to get myself to the firehouse." As he speaks, the shot cuts to Eddie and Chris. Gif 3: 4 smaller gifs on a large canvas. First, while focused on his phone, Eddie asks Buck absently, "Why not just fill it up?" Off screen, Buck replies, "Because figuring it out was more fun." Second, Buck reaches out to garb some popcorn, smiling as he says, "Turns out, I love math." Third, Eddie reads from his phone, "Well, according to this, people can get new cognitive abilites—" Fourth, it cuts to Buck and then back to Eddie as he continues to read, "—After a serious injury to the central nervous system." Gif 4: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, Buck nods seriously, saying, "Ooh, which I—I definitely had. The shot shifts to Eddie, raising his eyebrows at his phone as he says, "Mm. But some doctors are saying it's not a real thing." Second, Buck looks indignant as he says, "Uh, you—you think I've secretly known the square root of 162 all these years and just been holding out?" The shot cuts to Eddie, looking up at him as he speaks. Gif 5: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, earnestly, Buck says, "No, come on. It—It has to be lightning. The shot shifts to Eddie who points at him and says, "Fair point." Second, as Eddie speaks, off screen, saying, "This guy literally got the power of electricity after being struck. Said the lights would turn on and off every time he walked into a room." Buck flexes his hands and squints down at them as if trying to exert a superpower. Gif 6: A shot of Buck looking at Eddie, grinning, as he says, "I wish I got something like that. You know, ESP, or...maybe the ability to see into the future or read people's minds." The shot cuts to Eddie, skeptical as Buck speaks, and then back to Buck again. Gif 7: 4 smaller gifs on a large canvas. First, Buck raises his eyebrows as Eddie says, "Those sound like terrible powers to have." It cuts to Chris, who says, "Maybe this is just the first phase." Second, Chris has just said, "Maybe you'll get more powers the stronger you get." Buck points at Chris enthusiastically, saying, "Yes, like an actual superhero." Third, Eddie tilts his head, saying, "You did get struck by lightning." Fourth, Chris adds, "Classic origin story," And Eddie nods, waving his hand in a told-you-so motion. Gif 8: After Eddie asks Buck what he's gonna do with his new-found superpowers, Buck says, "Ooh," looking intrigued. The shot cuts to Eddie and Chris, Eddie looking amused as Chris says with a mischievous grin, "He could give me the answers to my math homework." Gif 9: Eddie lightly chastises Chris, grabbing a page from his hand, saying, "Uh-uh. Uh-uh-uh-uh. You're never gonna learn if he gives you the answers. In the background of the shot, Buck smiles and laughs fondly at them, ducking his head. Gif 10: Smiling brightly and joyfully at Eddie and Chris, Buck tilts his head, reaching across the table as he says, "I'm the guy with the answers. I kind of like it." /End ID]
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heroesriseandfall · 11 months
Text
Father, Daughter: Roy & Lian
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“Go home, see Lian…if anyone knows who you really are, it’s your daughter.” — Grace Choi in Outsiders (2003) #33
Comic sources:
Titans (1999) #30
Outsiders (2003) #45
Titans (1999) #15
Titans (1999) #25
Titans (1999) #19
Justice League of America (2006) #11
Outsiders (2003) #19
Justice League of America (2006) #11
Outsiders (2003) #20
Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files 2003
Image descriptions in alt text are also copied below.
A comic panel from Titans (1999) #30, showing a green-lit memory of Roy Harper smiling as he looks down at his baby Lian in his arms. Beyond him, Jade Nguyen looks at them warmly.
A comic page from Outsiders (2003) #45 showing Roy Harper as Arsenal with Lian in pink pajamas and a heavy-set man who was babysitting. Roy holds Lian up in the air with his arms and says, “And helloooo, little squeaker!” Lian says, “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!!” Roy pulls her in to rest his forehead against hers, holding her wrist as she says, “Y’know what, y’know what--today Nicole and Zach and Ashley and me and Peter and me went to the ac-rarian.” Still smiling, Roy corrects, “Aquarium.” He sets Lian on the floor and they look over, smiling, at the babysitter. Lian continues, “And there were penguins!! Little penguins! Lots of Penguins! And we stayed with the penguins until Omar said we had to go because we had to go home--” Omar the babysitter says, “They were closing.” Lian turns to the TV and presses her hands against the blank screen, saying, “But we came home and watched March of the Penguins--” Omar holds up four fingers, grins at Roy, and says, “Four times, but I skipped past the bad parts.” Roy says, “Thank you.” Lian grabs Roy’s leg and hangs off it joyfully, saying, “And Omar said we could go back to the ac-rarium--” Roy corrects, “Aquarium,” but Lian doesn’t skip a beat before continuing, “on Saturday and you could come with us, and then I’m gonna sleep over Ashley’s!”
A comic panel from Titans (1999) #15 showing Lian sitting on Roy’s shoulders, smiling and waving with one hand to someone out of frame as Roy holds onto her feet to keep her steady. In the background is a cloudy blue sky and the rocky spires of Oljato-Monument Valley in northeastern Arizona.
A comic panel from Titans (1999) #25 showing Nightwing (Dick), Tempest (Garth), Flash (Wally), and Arsenal (Roy) sitting around a campfire at night. Other speech bubbles have been cut off, but Roy is saying, “Still don’t see why I couldn’t bring Lian. She loves camping.”
A comic panel from Titans (1999) #19 showing Lian and Roy in Titans Tower as Flash/Wally is rushing over. There’s a blanket fort and boxes next to Lian. Roy is standing with a cane and has a white cast all the way up to his left thigh. Lian points up at him with a smile as she says, “You may start the campfire, lieutenant.” Roy salutes, his hand touching the brim of his backwards red baseball cap, and says, “Sir, yes, sir!” Lian only reaches his waist in height. Wally is saying something as he rushes in but his speech bubbles have been blanked out.
Two comic panels from Justice League of America (2006) #11 in a realistic but sketchy art style, focused in on Roy’s face which has a few bleeding cuts and his face is scrunched in pain. He’s in his Red Arrow suit. He looks up to say, “Mari, I keep a picture of Lian taped…hhhh…taped inside my quiver. It’s taking everything within me to keep from pulling it out and saving goodbye. Dig. Please.” He closes his eyes and winces with strain.
A comic panel from Outsiders (2003) #19 showing Lian’s bed from above with golden evening light shining in. Roy as Arsenal is sitting on the bed with little Lian on his lap hugging his neck. His arms are wrapped around her, and his face is shadowed, looking haunted. Little movement lines indicate Roy and Lian may be shaking. Lian’s room is filled with shades of pink and brown, and her pillows are covered in several large stuffed animals of various species.
A cropped comic page from Justice League of America (2006) #11 showing two sketchy panels surrounded by black. Roy is in his Red Arrow suit, trapped under bent metal, his skin splattered with blood. He’s nearly lying on his stomach barely holding himself up. Roy’s narration box says, “But with a prayer,” and out loud he says, “Lord, please watch over Lian--” The next panel zooms in a little but his face is still unclear. His narration box says, “And as I lose myself to the darkness--” Out loud, he continues, “--please keep her safe--” then his narration box continues, “--as the wet ceiling presses its foot against my head--”
A comic panel from Outsiders (2003) #20 showing Roy and Lian laying on a brown coach with their eyes closed. Lian’s head is resting on Roy’s chest, while his hands gently hold her elbow and back. A yellow narration box says, “They could stay close to home.”
A comic panel from Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files 2003 showing Roy and Lian hugging. Roy is in his Arsenal suit and his face is blocked from sight by Lian’s hair. Lian says, “Daddy, I don’t understand. Donna was your heart and you love her and now she’s become a ghost or something. How will your heart be happy?” Roy says, “Because, etai yazi, you’re my heart. And I love you.”
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angeljeonjk97 · 6 months
Text
BodyWork || Bell #2
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Jungkook x reader
friends to lovers
18+ (fluff, smut)
warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol
Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.
"You already know how i like it baby"
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You're out of breath as you run into the gym. You throw your belongings down behind the desk, slamming yourself down on the barstool. Jungkook looks up at you from across the gym, as your rushed movements catch his eye.
Your head falls into your hands as you huff, attempting to catch your breath.
"You okay girl?" You look up from your hands, seeing jungkook in a white vest accentuating his toned chest and abs beaming a big grin, whilst his eyebrows furrowed in concern. His hair stuck to his forehead, drenched in sweat.
"Yeah, tell my dad I'm sorry I'm late, the bus after class was running behind schedule." You gesture towards your father who happened to be on the other side of the gym, talking to Jungkook's trainer.
He chuckles back, pulling up another stool in front of the desk.
"How was class?"
"I honestly don't know how I'm gonna pass at this rate" You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face in frustration again.
"Y/n, you're smart, you'll pass I can guarantee it" He urges, slouching to try and catch my eyes, "Don't stress"
You flop your head into your hands lazily, meeting Jungkook's eyes.
"Jungkook!" A voice from the other side of the black and white ring calls out. Jungkook's neck snaps, looking behind him, as your eyes follow the voice too.
"Shit, my cue." Jungkook closes his eyes in disappointment, turning to face you again.
You giggle back, "We'll talk after"
A few minutes later Jungkook was in the practice ring sparing with another boxer. Watching him box is probably one of your favourite things to do. Boxing has always intrigued you as a sport in general, but something about Jungkook boxing makes it impossible for you to look away. To be honest, there's nothing for you to do at the gym anyway besides watching him.
You work at the gym for your dad, by tending to the front desk. You don't have to do much besides sign people in and out, but you don't complain as your dad pays you to be there so at least you have some sort of income to help you through uni.
You watch as Jungkook and his sparring partner finish by patting each other on the back, and doing the classic 'bro hug'.
After stepping down from the ring, his trainer then helps taking off his plain black gloves, revealing his hand wraps. You watch intently as he proceeds to take off the white vest, which is now covered in sweat, making him topless. You are staring hard. You've always known how good-looking Jungkook is, but never entirely took him all in.
Although his personality is the same, his body is nothing like how it was 7 years ago when he was just a 19-year-old boy, taking boxing lessons for fun.
You're eyes come back into focus as you realise that you were staring at Jungkook the entire time you were zoned out, lost in thought. He notices and sends a wave and a cheesy smile back.
He definitely thinks I'm being weird right now.
You send an awkward smile back, your eyes crinkling at the outer corners before swiftly looking down at your phone in your lap.
Kiri: You still coming out tomorrow night?
A text on your lock screen reads. You agreed to go to the club with one of your good friends Kiri the night before because in her words you "don't have as much fun as you should at this age". You're very focused on your studies right now though, and don't have much time to be going out and partying it up to go home and wake up in the morning feeling like your head was trepanned.
You roll your eyes, smiling lightly over the text, as well as the previous image of Jungkook you have in your head.
Y/n: Yes Kiri
Kiri: That sounds promising...
Kiri: Do your unfinished work tomorrow morning so you don't have to worry about it all night, You work yourself too hard.
You lock your phone, throwing it onto the desk, hearing it vibrate again, knowing it's Kiri, texting you again. You look back up at the boxing ring, seeing Jungkook climbing back in, still without his shirt, but with his long black locks now in a mini man bun sitting on the back of his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The music makes the purple and pink lit-up dance floor shake, as screams and singing mix with it. The smell of sweat and alcohol flowed through the air. You and Kiri are down at a table in a booth, in the corner of the club, sipping on your third drink.
Kiri and you have been good friends ever since you started university. You were both in the same literature class in the first year and became close when you both exchanged numbers to exchange notes and assignment help.
"Soooo," Kiri leans in towards you from the other side of the table as you, "How's Jungkook?"
Your eyes roll in response.
Kiri has met Jungkook a few times and has always thought that there is something between the two of you since the first time they met.
"Don't ask me like that,"
"What? Am I not allowed to ask about a friend?" She giggles in response, sitting up straight, her condensated glass cupped in both of her hands, her arms stretched out in front of her.
"I know damn well what your intent behind that question was and no, we're still not together," You say that last bit sarcastically, mocking your friend's past words.
Kiri whines in response, slouching down in her seat with a pout on her face like a defeated puppy.
"You two need to hurry up"
"Kiri, I've told you a thousand times already, me and Jungkook aren't together and never will be. I don't like him like that and he doesn't think of me like that either"
You've always thought that Jungkook was undeniably attractive, but you've never even considered dating him. A few other friends have said the same thing as Kiri but you always ignore them. People can't accept that two people of the opposite sex can be friends without it leading to a relationship or sex.
Kiri sends you back a look on her face that has "yeah right" written all over it.
"Well you might say you don't like him but he for sure likes you," she swigs back the last of her drink before leaning back, her shoulders meeting the back of her cushioned chair.
"You've met him like, what, 3-4 times, and you've never spoken to him outside of that, how would you know?" you protest, crossing your arms over your chest, sounding almost snarky.
She looks back at you, flashing you a face that screams 'Seriously?'
"And those 3-4 times are all I need to know that he's in love with you. He treats you like you're his girlfriend already"
You roll your eyes, shaking your head whilst looking to your right where most of the people in the club are dancing. Your arms remained crossed over your chest.
Kiri snickers at your reaction to her statement, noticing you haven't protested against her yet. Giving in she changes the topic.
"Fine, I'll shut up about JK, join me for a dance?"
Turning your head back towards her, you flash a bright smile, looking almost like something out of a cartoon.
"I thought you'd never ask"
<-prev-index-next->
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist~ @hellbornsworld @tatamicc
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bleekay · 2 months
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anyone who cares about the me hating my room layout saga........come along w me...... no img descriptions im so sorry..... i can only describe these images as "2d bedroom/office poorly laid out in various ways"
sorry im using inches not cm. so here is my room's current layout:
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it's a small room, less than 10'x11'. that window on the side is 6'x6' and the window sill sticks out 2 inches from the wall, and it starts 1 foot up from the floor. im using my desk as a bedside table rn. why do i want to rearrange this? why does it kill me that this is what i'm stuck with?
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SICK OF MY MOM DOING THIS SHIT. just silently standing in my doorway whenever she walks past my room and i have something interesting to her on my screen. she wont even announce she's there, she just stands there. one time i was watching some stupid funny video and i found out she was behind me because she LAUGHED and it scared the shit out of me. yes i have talked to her about it. yes she knows i don't like it. she says she "doesn't do it on purpose" just sometimes she'll walk past and see something on the screen and can't help but look. girl.
but like heres the thing... what if friends have drawn nice porn??? ideally let's not let my mom look at it. I want to draw porn??? lol, lmao even. imagine what i could make if i were free. no but fr even aside from that, just day to day, it'd be nice to feel like an adult and not a kid whose parent is looking over their shoulder all the time, even past the invasion of privacy issue, having my back to the door means im always on edge... so that is goal number 1.
("why dont you just close your door?" dogs ok shut up)
(also wanted to say that step 1 in preventing my mom from just Doing That was to get a door curtain, which i have now, but it does not change my desire to move my desk. it isnt enough.)
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goal number 2 is giving the dogs a pathway equal in flow to the current one. the dog seat next to my chair is 26 inches high, so the dogs can only get there from the bed, not the floor. you can see right now, it's easy peasy for them, step up, bed, seat. that blue circle is where i initially put the dog seat, and it was lower at the time so the dogs could reach it from the floor. alas, katze hated it on that side even though it was easier for me to get out of my chair when it was on the left of me instead of the right.
ok, so we've got the two big goals. desk against right-side wall. easy layout for dogs.
i need you to know i've tried a lot of different layouts ok. i am showing you a FRACTION of the attempts. a fraction!!!! i tried a layout with my bed at a 45 degree angle, don't "have you tried--" me
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the left side wont work bc the dresser and bed overlap by 2 inches and it simply won't fit. the right one solved that problem. but both of these have two other problems: 1, dogs falling into window gap lol -- easily solvable, i'll just fill in the window with pillows or something -- and 2, i have to choose whether to give the dogs a step over to their seat or to have a bedside table. can't have both. and i need a bedside table so the dog seat would have to go on the other side with a step up, which would block me in. also unacceptable. both of these are out.
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thats what led me to this layout, which i made a post about. so the dresser would work as a bedside table for me, the dogs have decent flow up the step, to the bed, over onto the dog seat. but ah. the space between the desk and the bed is about 20 inches. maybe a little less if the window sill pushes the bed out an inch or two from the wall. am trapped. probably difficult to get in and out. i am not teeny tiny.
and now we are here:
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if i just scoot the desk down i have room to move, dogs still have flow, everything's good..... except. you see it right. just a. large gap in the corner. nothing there. surrounded by things that are all 2 feet high or taller. so, a pit really. but, ah, what's this????
a free table exactly the length and width of the gap, stopping any chance of the dogs falling down there and hurting themselves or being unable to get out???
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wow, i can move my printer from on top of the dresser to on that table! i can put my mini shelves there which are currently sitting on my desk! i can maybe even set some little trinkets and doodads there!! ah, table that is perfectly sized for my corner pit and that i got totally for free and is in really good shape and not falling apart, wow you're so great! :)
is what i would say if i had a table that fit there and was free and worked well
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clintbartonswife · 7 months
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it takes a village
Pairings: Peter Parker & irondad!Tony Stark Summary: tony gets a message from peter's kidnappers and makes a call. read part one first Whumptober prompt #6 : recording / 'it should've been me' Whumptober prompt #20 : 'you will regret touching them' Notes: brief descriptions of torture masterlist   || whumptober2023
"Sir, you have a message."
Tony wiped the sweat from his forehead, pushing his chair back and looking up to the roof of his lab. "Can it wait? I think I'm close to fixing the lagging issue in Rhodey's leg brace."
"You ignored their last message sir. This time they attached a video."
"FRIDAY, is that a yes or no?"
A few seconds passed as FRIDAY inspected the file, Tony stretching and wincing as his back made a loud cracking noise. DUM-E whirred at him with concern, going back to dusting when he shooed it away.
"No sir. It can't wait."
He sighed, twirling in his chair to face the nearest screen, grabbing his coffee from the table. "Put it up."
The mug fell to the floor, smashing and spilling the coffee all over the floor of the lab.
He was looking at Peter being thrown into a room, body limp and bruised. The angle suggested it was from a CCTV feed, though the resolution was surprisingly high. His heart dropped as the video skipped, showing the kid hammering at the door, yelling and screaming.
Tony couldn't tear his eyes away, tears gathering in his eyes as the video skipped forwards once more. Peter was curled in on himself in the corner of the room, rocking slightly back and forth in an attempt to self-soothe. Text popped up on the screen, stating that instructions would be sent in the next two hours.
As the screen switched to black he ran out of the room, grabbing the flip phone he had vowed to never use, dialling the only number saved on it.
"I need your help."
Tony paced across the tarmac, fiddling with the flip phone in his hands.
"They'll be here." Rhodey reassured, moving to place a hand on his shoulder, "Cap - Steve reached out first. He won't go back on his word."
Tony huffed, "I know it's just - they took the kid. I was so busy I didn't even think to -" He ran his hands across his face. "He's been there for three days already."
"We're going to get him."
Tony couldn't speak, settling instead for a tight nod.
His thoughts were stuck on the image of Peter. He was alone and afraid, curled up in the corner with bruised hands hugged in to his chest.
"How did May -"
"She's with Pepper now, at the tower."
"Pepper?"
Tony let out a self deprecating laugh. "No matter how she feels about me right now, she loves the kid almost as much as I do. May needs someone with her so..."
Rhodey just hummed, stepping back at the noise of an approaching quinjet. "We'll get him back. We just... need to get through this first."
Tony nodded, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to shake off some of the anxiety that threatened to choke him. Any dread that he had been feeling over this reunion was nothing compared to the last 8 hours, and with it came hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing, but goddamn did he need all he could get.
--
Tony cleared his throat, doing his best to appear put-together. It failed, horrifically, but he hoped that they wouldnt be cruel enough to point it out.
The quinjet door opened, revealing almost all of the old team. "Welcome back to the States."
Steve nodded in greeting, bearded jaw clenched and hands protectively crossed over his chest.
They stared at each other for a moment, unspoken words thick in the air. Rhodey broke it, stepping forwards.
"Thank you for coming. I'm sure we all... have a lot to say, but now is not the time."
Steve's eyes darkened with guilt as they passed over Rhodey's leg braces, offering another curt nod in response.
Natasha was the first to step off of the platform, offering Tony a tight smile. "Agreed."
"Just -" Tony's fist clenched by his side, "Please. I can't get him on my own."
"We wouldn't let you, man." Sam replied, "You got coordinates?"
"FRIDAY's working on it right now. So far she's narrowed it to Chicago."
"Then lets go."
Steve turned around, heading straight to the controls of the jet. Tony took a deep breath, looking at Rhodey for reassurance before following, door closing behind them.
--
The awkwardness of the jet was almost suffocating, Tony checking his phone every few seconds for any sort of update. Rhodey had positioned himself protectively in front of him, though not in a way that he was completely blocked from the view of the others.
Steve's body language was tight and guarded, eyes flitting over to Tony every few seconds before diverting to the floor, restraining himself from saying the words he had been sitting on for the past few months.
Tony's phone pinged, the man's face whitening as another video appeared on his screen. "They sent another one."
"Tony... you don't have to-"
He brushed Rhodey's concern off, jaw tightening. "No. I do." He clicked play with shaking hands, spare hand reaching up to cover his mouth in an attempt to withhold his shout of shock.
Peter was tied to a chair, head hung low. A woman was stood by a metal tray, picking up a cattleprod and jamming it into his stomach. A tear fell down his cheek at Peter's yell of pain, the other people in the jet jumping to their feet at the realisation of the nature of the video.
Natasha was the first to approach. "Tony -"
"Don't. I need to -"
The abuse continued, though Peter remained strong, refusing to let out another noise despite the attacks. Despite this, the pain was written clearly across his face, guilt eating at Tony like a disease.
"It should've been me" he whispered, throat tight.
Rhodey placed a comforting hand on his shoulder once again, grounding him and saving him from the anxiety spiral that was threatening to drag him down. He spoke in a low tone, attempting to hide his words from the rest of the group. "Breathe. You can't panic now. He needs you at 100%"
Tony choked out an agreement, placing his phone down on the seat and placing his head in his hands, willing himself to get it together. He had to be strong for Peter.
As his phone pinged again, he froze. Sam approached him carefully, picking up the phone and opening it when there was no argument.
"FRIDAY has a location," he said, "warehouse in Chicago, West Chatham. I'll give Steve the full address."
Natasha stood by Tony, close enough for him to feel her body heat, but keeping distance. "We'll get him. He's going to be okay. I promise."
--
The last twenty minutes of the journey felt like forever, Tony's mind racing with a million different possibilities. None of them were good.
As the quinjet began its descent, Rhodey moved closer to Tony, voice quiet. "You know I want to go in with you ..."
"I know. He - Peter will understand."
"Legs don't work the way they used to," Rhodey smiled, "But I'll get the meds out, ready for him."
"I appreciate it, Platypus. I mean it."
"I know its been a while since you've been alone with them, but they've still got your back. They won't let anything happen to Parker."
Tony nodded, fists clenching and unclenching as he pushed down the anxiety, willing himself to be strong. He wasn't allowed to be Tony Stark right now. His kid needed Ironman.
As he stood, he activated his armour, allowing the metal to give him courage.
"We go in quick and do this cleanly." Steve said, authoritative tone bringing Tony back to the prime of the Avengers. "We're still technically on the run. If we stay too long then -"
"They won't arrest you." Tony interrupted, keeping his eyes set on the door. "I've been negotiating since you went off the radar. I'm close to fixing it. Getting a pardon for your boy as well."
There was silence for a moment, uneasy and uncertain.
"Tony..."
He just waved them off. "Yeah, whatever. We don't have time to waste." Clearing his throat awkwardly, he pressed the release on the door.
--
The alarm blared through the building, Tony not stopping as he fought his way down the corridor, visor scanning for any sign of Peter.
"North east quadrant clear" Natasha announced through coms, "I found a map and am on my way to the control room."
Steve's voice sounded a few moments later. "North west quadrant clear. I'm heading towards you Sam."
"There's a lot of them here - I think they're guarding something."
Tony slammed his fist into the last man's face, kicking open another door and swearing as it turned up empty. "I've got nothing. He's got to be with you, Sam."
"The control room is barred from the inside," Natasha reported, exertion clear in her voice, "Door won't budge. The woman's gotta be in here."
Tony's footsteps faltered, not sure where to go. As if sensing this, Steve spoke.
"We're still making our way through this quadrant, we've got it under control. Go to Nat, Tony."
Pushing down the need to rebel, Tony followed the instructions, each step increasing with determination the closer he got.
"Stand to the side." He said, raising his hand and sending a powerful blast through the door once Natasha was safely out of the way.
Shouts of panic from the other side were ignored as he blasted away the rest of the door, barging in and hitting the first person he saw. Natasha was right behind him, carefully controlled fury powering her every move as she tore through the group of men.
Tony used this distraction to corner the woman, kicking her in the knees and sending her tumbling to the floor. "You will regret touching them" he growled, looking down on her in disgust, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
She laughed, an obnoxious laugh, and attempted to sit up straight. "You know who I am."
He held himself back from hurting her further, the sane part of him knowing that Peter would never forgive him for lashing out in a rage.
Instead, he disengaged his helmet, looking her up and down with disinterest. "I've never seen you before in my life."
At her outraged shout, he stepped back, motioning for Natasha to incapacitate her. "You're going to jail now, where no one will ever know or care who you are. You are nothing."
"You cant - They'll never arrest me! You have nothing -"
"Shut up." Natasha sneered, hitting her once cleanly in the temple, and huffing as she crumpled. Sparing a kind look at Tony, she nodded towards the door. "Go get him - I'll make sure she's tied up and ready for the cops."
He nodded, hoping his gratitude was clear as he raced out of the room. "Cap? Do you have him?"
"We have him - on our way to the jet."
Relief rushed through him, speeding up even more in his desperation to see his kid. He burst out of the building, disengaging the suit as he stumbled up the quinjet ramp, colliding with Sam's chest.
"He's okay - he's okay." Sam reassured, "Take a breath, Tony."
He took a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering closed as he did his best to regulate himself. "Thank you."
"Of course."
Sam stepped aside, letting Tony rush to Peter's side.
"Mr Stark?"
His voice was weak and small, but so so alive.
Tony let out a tearful laugh, cupping Peter's cheek in his hand. "It's me, bud. I'm here."
"Knew you'd come" Peter smiled, blinking weakly, "Knew it."
"Always."
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Text
I Know What You Did
Mina x M Reader
Genre: Shorts, One Shot(?), Smut
WC: 1887
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You're getting your ass kicked by some demi-god/Valkyrie boss in a game you recently bought. Her waterfowl dance always fucks you up. It's getting a bit annoying; your pride is really hurting. Your girlfriend beat the hell out of this boss in just a couple of tries, why can't you? It's already 1 AM, you've been playing ever since you got home from work and you're still on the same boss. It's not because you're a bad boyfriend, that you don't allocate time for her. It's because your girlfriend is Mina Sharon Myoui, and she is still filming for the group's new song.
After another You Died screen, you ultimately decided to resign for the night. You reach out for your phone to send Mina a text message, to let her know you'll be sleeping. Before you could type something, you received a text from her that she is coming down. Yes, you live a couple of floors below the units where Twice members live. The message took you by surprise, she never marched into your unit without asking if you are okay with it first. Also because she didn't even let you know that she got home already. A minute later, your door swings open and there she is. She is really beautiful even if you can see that she's tired after a long day.
You automatically lock yourselves to a hug. She smells heavenly even after her schedule. Mina looks up at you, as if she is studying your face. You return the gesture, giving her a smile. Its public knowledge that she is ethereal, elegance personified. The streaks of highlights on her hair really suits her.
Then a kiss. You knew it was gonna happen eventually. Her lips are soft and sweet, a fitting description of her as well; the other side of her to be specific. The kiss transforms into a sensual one, it's still sweet but it also is wet as your tongues slip inside each other's mouths.
"You are not that tired, huh?"
"Just shut your mouth and make love to me." She cuts you off with a kiss at the first movement of your mouth in a failed attempt to reply to her.
Mina unzips the oversized jacket she is wearing over the outfit she was shooting with today. It is more conservative compared to the black ones but it's Mina and her exposed midriff, it's more than enough for you to lose your mind. Besides she has been sending you pictures earlier while at work in this very outfit, some images are a little slutier than usual. For your own eyes only.
"I have been wanting your cock already even during the shoot." It seems all that slutiness was all part of the plan.
She takes off your shorts and underwater in one single stroke. Your already hard dick whips up, standing proudly. She wants it right then and now, skip all that foreplay. Mina is quick to get a hold of it and pumps it with her soft hands. Her handjob is perfect, the pace was spot on and her thumb is fiddling with your tip slathering your precum all around. Sharon really came out to play tonight and is filled with lust.
Of course something inside you snapped, it's impossible to keep being gentle amidst all the pleasure. Your hands land on her fat ass, cupping them through her safety shorts. It is super jiggly and soft and you're giving it a slap every now and then. The contact of the slaps makes her whimper, adding to the ever growing sexual tension. The kiss deepens in lust, the tongues dance, the occasional lip bites. You take off her green sleeves to expose more of her. Obviously, you want more.
Her light blue top is sinful on its own, it hugs her body so well. Mina is absolutely sexy, too hot for her own good. The curve of her waist, her perky tits pushed up by her top, her insane abs. It's a view everywhere you look. You slip out of the kiss to enjoy the scene for a moment before busying yourself by licking and kissing her exposed chest.
"Fuck me now babe, I want you so bad." She's too horny to complete her sentence the way she started it.
"Beg for it."
"Please fuck me, I need your cock deep inside me. Please?" She can be really persuasive.
Of course you will, who will deny her? Besides, you have your pent up frustration to the game you're playing and this is the perfect way to let it all out. You hook your fingers to the hem of her safety shorts and easily take them off, it looks like the belt is really just for aesthetics. You lift her and place her on the nearest table. Finding the perfect spot between her creamy thighs, you align yourself to her already dripping wet entrance.
Then two become one. She gasps at the first entry. Mina has been craving obviously and you finally inside her is the best vindication, the perfect solution. You could not stop yourself from fucking roughly, you're overwhelmed with lust. However, judging by her moans she would not have it any other way.
"You're so big baby. It feels so good, please don't stop."
"Your pussy is so tight Mina." Indeed it is, you still can't get used to it.
"Fuck me like that, please, ahhhhh!" Her voice is full of pleasure, needy at the same time.
You continue to move your hips, sliding your dick in and out in a steady rhythm obliging her needs. The slick sounds of sex and slapping flesh heightens all senses. Throw in the dirty talk and profanities you both utter in the mix, it's an absolute carnal scene. Her skirt is obstructing the view of your lovemaking but somehow it adds to the thrill.
Mina's arms on the back supporting her position to keep herself upright ultimately give in to the pleasure as she completely lays down the table. You adjust yourself to fuck her comfortably, not wanting to slow down your pace. She is a mess under you, a beautiful mess though. Arms reaching out to the edge of the table on top of her head while moaning ragged and breathless. She is getting close to her climax; it is evident in her tightening walls.
"I'm going to cum baby. Don't stop, don't you dare stop."
Those were her last words before her orgasm drowns her. Her legs wrapped around you to keep you inside as she rides her high. Mina is glistening, skin flushed pink with sweat, eyes half lidded. It is obvious that she enjoyed the sex you have given her, full of satisfaction getting what she wants and how she wanted it. Slow to get up, you help her to sit back straight. You kiss her, she is just so irresistible.
"Let's get you finished up." She climbs down the table and turns around, offering her behind.
"I know you want it this way." All smiles, seductive and provoking.
"Slut!" The word slips out your mouth.
"As if you don't want it."
"Fuck you Sharon!" She is right though. You always want to fuck her from behind if there is a chance.
"That's right, fuck me!"
You raise her skirt and is absolutely amazed by how full her peach is, even if you've seen it many times. Her body is a complete wonderland. Diving inside her pussy from behind is a different kind of pleasure. The view of her bouncing ass makes the fuck much more lustful, primal and instinct driven. You watch as your dick disappears from view, hidden by her jiggling behind and inside her hot tight insides.
"Yeesss! Oh my God, you fuck so good baby." Mina lets out a loud moan.
"You're such a slut Sharon." Whispering in her ear.
"Yes baby! Sharon's a big slut for you."
"I know! I bet you're all wet thinking of me while shooting your music video." You tease her while continuing to fuck her pussy.
"Yup I'm so horny, I touched myself in the dressing room just to get by."
You mentally shake your head in disbelief, you know you have this effect in Mina but it's news to you that she's capable of masturbating at work.
"Damn what will the staff say if they know about your adventures." You hold her hips against your thrusts to reach deeper inside. Mina is panting and moaning your name in response validating your actions. Her back arches as she reaches for your lips. Eyes fixed on you, struggling to keep it open in the middle of all the fucking.
"It's your fault baby, making me crave for your dick always."
It was all you need to hear. You're now fighting for dear life to last a little longer.
"I'm cumming Sharon."
"Cum inside me baby, empty yourself inside me."
The pace is now increasing but uneven, as much as you want to chase your orgasm you want to last as long as possible, her pussy is a goddamn paradise.
"Give it to me, please!"
Her words ultimately lead to your end as you explode inside her, shooting ropes of cum, emptying yourself and letting it all go.
"Fuck baby, you're so fucking good." You whispered again in her ears. Panting and still catching both of your breaths, you turn her around and corral her on your arms.
"It's because you fuck so good." She smiles as she obviously had her fill of what she came for.
"It looks like we ruined your outfit." You noticed her outfit has become disheveled after your rough fuck.
"These are expensive; it's going to cost you."
"You're the one who barged her uninvited though."
She smiles at the fact.
"I'll let it slide this time. And, don't make it look like you are against the idea." Sticking out her tongue to tease.
"You're mine." You know it is more than just a statement. It's a claim of ownership. "I know what you and Sana did."
You obviously want to explain but she kissed you to shut you up. She has been doing that tonight.
"I don't want to hear your explanation. I know Sana can be really irresistible."
You're guilty as charged. There's no use in denying it.
"Are you mad at me?"
"I would not be here begging for your dick if I am. I'm here to show you that I can be a slut too."
"I'm sorry Mina, I promise I will not be seduced again."
"I don't care if you fuck her again, as long as it just stays as that. I'm just afraid if you develop feelings for her."
"My heart belongs to you, yours alone."
There is silence after your words. Both of you stayed there in each other's arms. She notices the screen of the game you're playing still on. A welcome distraction.
"I'll help you beat that boss later, come with me for a shower first. Show me how you and Sana spend a shower together."
You realize she knows everything that you and Sana did. You are absolutely shocked and amazed at the same time.
"Did Sana tell you every detail?"
"Nope! That's why I wish you could show me."
__________________
A/N: Should I continue the story? :D Thanks for reading as always.
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pahtoosh · 2 years
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puffles, Daddy
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[image ID: a photo collage with pictures of Sebastian Stan, light peeking through a doorway, rumpled bedsheets, and an assortment of puffles from club penguin. /.end ID]
masterlist
18+
wc: ~1170 words
warnings: overuse of petnames, vague descriptions of club penguin, written on my phone, one mention of “mafia work”, sfw but 18+ only! bucky carries reader at the end(this is a mafia au but he still has his vibranium arm)
a/n: this is my first little space fic, be nice to me or else😠 (compassionate advice is welcome) advice on how to make a less bad photo collage is also welcome
pairing: mafia!daddy!bucky x gn!little!reader
summary: Bucky comes home to find his baby extremely focused on making videogame money
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Bucky quietly shut the front door behind him and placed his briefcase on the floor. His sock-clad feet brought him up the stairs with little noise. He was exhausted after a day of mind-numbing meetings, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with his baby. However, he put aside his desire to alert them to his presence and have his sweet baby run into his arms. It was nearly midnight, and his angel surely would’ve fallen asleep by now.
He opened the door to his bedroom, but found the space empty. Not wanting to panic yet, he checked their separate bedroom that was more often used as a playroom than their sleeping quarters. Still, he wasn’t met with his sweetheart’s sleeping face.
Bucky roughly ran a hand through his hair, trying to stay calm. He scanned the rooms for anything amiss that could point to a break in. Then, he heard a soft fist hitting a desk, followed by some angry mumbling.
“Baby? Is that you?” Bucky called out. “Where are you?” Then, he saw light peeking out through his office door at the end of the hallway. He made his way over and was met with an unfamiliar sight: his angel sitting in front of the computer with a focused stare and a slight frown. The door opening alerted them of Bucky’s presence.
They looked up curiously and brightened at the sight. “Daddy! Missed you!” Despite their excitement, they remained in the chair and turned back to the screen. Bucky was so relieved to see them unharmed that he almost overlooked their strange behavior.
“No welcome home hugs for Daddy?” Bucky asked. He was used to his baby nearly tackling him to the floor at every reunion, no matter how long he’d been gone.
“Sorry Daddy, workin’.”
Bucky chuckled and came around the desk to kiss their head. “Oh yeah? What’s got you so busy that you can’t give me a hug?”
“Puffles!”
“What on Earth is a Buffle?”
“Noooo. Puffle, Daddy.”
“Right, what’s a puffle?”
They grunted and pointed at the screen, displeased by Bucky’s lack of knowledge and him disrupting their concentration. Bucky watched as they made virtual pizzas, dragging the mouse across the screen to put on the toppings that corresponded with the order sheet on the top right of the screen.
“Is that it? Is the pizza a puffle?”
The question caused them to miss a topping, putting the game to an end. They huffed and then took a deep breath. They wanted to blame Bucky on the loss, but he taught them better than that. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know about the game. After all, they had only played it whenever he wasn’t around to entertain them. And this was the perfect opportunity to educate him.
His angel turned the chair around and hopped off, gesturing for him to sit. Bucky obliged and they sat on his lap, leaving Bucky to steady them with his hands on their waist. They placed their palms on the desk, using the movement to turn the chair back around.
“Okay, Daddy this is my penguin. It’s blue and has all these clothes and all these shoes. But my penguin doesn’t have a pet yet so I have to play these games so I can buy one. You get it?”
“Oh I see, and the pet is called a puffle?”
“Yes, Daddy! So smart.” His baby rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek, like he so often did with them.
Bucky grinned at the compliment. “So how much does a puffle go for these days?”
“Four hundred coins! I’m almost there. But you can’t talk to me when I play, Daddy. Or I lose.”
Bucky laughed and kissed their shoulder. “Okay, Baby. Daddy will stay quiet for your next game.” He watched as they clicked onto another round of Pizza Parlor. They spent a few minutes making the pizzas, not once looking away from the screen. Eventually, the speed of the conveyor belt caught up to them and they made mistakes on five pizzas, bringing the game to a close.
“Wow! You made 20 pizzas, Angel!” Bucky turned them around in his lap so he could press kisses all over their face, causing them to giggle and squirm.
“Yeah! And now I can buy a puffle!” They faced the screen once more and told Bucky all about the puffles: where to buy them, what colors they came in, and what game features they unlocked. Bucky listened intently and pressed a kiss to their shoulder every now and then. He loved hearing his baby talk, especially when they were excited about something.
Nothing could’ve pulled him from this moment. He was tired, but he was not going to stop his sweetheart from doing and chattering about something that made them so happy. Bucky was usually a very responsible daddy who stuck to a schedule. He was particularly strict about nap time and bedtime because his sweetheart needed the rest, but the day had caught up with him. After having to leave his baby so early in the morning to try and finish his work early, only to be caught in a messy standoff between two of the gangs working under his empire, he was even more grateful for the light his angel brought into his life.
Luckily, their energy was beginning to wear off. Today, they couldn’t go back to bed or take a nap without Bucky, and it was beginning to show. After purchasing a green puffle, their blinks began to slow a bit, and they yawned while telling Bucky about the puffle tasks they’d have to go on.
“Are you getting sleepy, Angel?”
They sheepishly brought their chin down. “A little bit, Dada.”
He kissed their cheek. “Why don’t we close this and play again tomorrow? Daddy’s got the whole day off.”
“A whole day of playing video games?” They bounced excitedly in his lap.
Bucky laughed. “No, Sweetheart. You know that’s too much screen time.” They pouted and pressed their face into his chest. “But we can still play a little bit and then for the rest of the day, we’ll do whatever you want.” He rocked them side to side, trying to lull them to sleep.
The gentle movement and his comforting embrace were a powerful combination. They yawned. “Okay, Daddy. See you ‘morrow.” Bucky’s heart swelled at the sight of his now sleeping baby in his arms. Their lips had cutely stayed in a slight pout, and he couldn’t help but press another kiss to their head before standing and walking to the bedroom.
His smart baby had already changed into pajamas, so all he had to do was tuck them in and get himself ready for bed. When he joined them under the covers, they unconsciously scooted towards him, inviting him to hug them from behind. Bucky was sure he’d never get enough of this. He fell asleep more content than ever with his favorite person tucked in his arms.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!
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The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Six
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The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Six Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 6407 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.
Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.
Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.
Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue
~~~
Spencer stared at the blank screen, mortification petrifying him in place. He was unable to tear his eyes away from where'd he'd last seen your face just before Walter Khan's boot crushed their feed.
Him, Hotch and Kate had arrived back at the station by the time you'd been placed in the car. The further you were driven, the more glitchy the feed became. Some words didn't come through, images flickered every now and again. The camera wasn't able to catch all of what went down during the meeting, but you'd made sure to get a good look at the big seller, knowing your team would use his image to find out who he was and find out where he would be hiding out.
Spencer had to hold back vomit whenever Khan went close to you, no doubt putting his disgusting, murderous hands all over you. Even more so when you'd been taken to the Warehouse and saw the girls, saw the torture display in the middle of the room. How many girls had dangled in the middle of that room and suffered his torture? How young had they been?
When you began walking to the meeting room, Spencer had thought you'd made it out of there. That you were finally coming home.
But you had turned around, ran back for those innocent girls. You had been caught, your pained cries whenever Walter punched you still ringing in Spencer's ears.
The worst part, though, was Khan had known the whole time.
'Did you guys hear that? You think you outsmarted me? Think again.'
That's when the line went dead, squashed under Khan's boot. But not before he caught a glimpse of your face. Blood gushing from your nose down your chin, hand clutching at your ribs where you'd been punched. However, a fire of defiance burned bright in your E/C eyes, visible even from the low angle.
But that did nothing to quell the rising wave of anger and fear in Spencer, raging like a tsunami higher and higher with each passing second the screen remained dead.
Where you had disappeared from in the blink of an eye; and there was nothing Spencer could do about it.
'Get it back up,' Spencer found himself demanding. To who, he really didn't know. When no one answered, the wave rose higher. 'Get it back up!'
'I-I'm trying!" Penelope cried over the speaker phone. 'Wherever they took her, they did well to make sure no cell towers were near it. Or they have really good cell blocks that pretty much render them invisible. That's what made the feed so glitchy, they're like in the middle of nowhere.'
'What about the camera? Can you track it?'
'Yes, but again, the cell blocks blocked that signal too. I can't tell you where they went outside of lower Manhattan.'
The urge to scream was almost unbearable. Instead, Spencer drove his fingers through his unruly hair, pulling at longer strands harshly to get his mind to focus on something else momentarily. This couldn't be happening. You were safe, you were home free. Damnit, why did you have to go back?
'Alert train stations south bound that drivers and passengers should keep their eyes out for those girls along any tracks,' Hotch commanded to Holt. 'Send as many officers out along those tracks from the nearest stations. Those girls are the key to finding L/N, but they're being hunted so we need to find them first.'
'Of course,' Holt managed to get out, his face pale with terror. Good, Spencer thought. Holt at least had half a mind to look guilty, considering he was the one that put you there.
'I'll go with you, we'll need as many people on the ground as we can,' Derek offered, to which Hotch nodded his approval and Derek jogged after Holt as he ran back into the office.
Spencer's feet moved before his mouth did, halfway to the door before he said, 'I'm going, too.'
'No,' Hotch said. 'I need you to stay here and work with Garcia on a geographical profile on Walter Khan. Find out everything about him, more importantly whether he has any major properties south of Manhattan he could be operating out of.'
Spencer opened his mouth to argue. How could Hotch expect him to sit idly by a map while you were with the unsub being beaten or worse...
A gentle hand gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look down at a concerned-looking JJ. 'Don't worry, Spence,' she said softly. 'Kate and I will go help as well. You and Pen are the only ones who can figure this out, so the sooner you do that, the quicker we can bring Y/N home, okay?'
Usually, the logical answer presented itself in Spencer's mind first. What JJ said was the most logical explanation, he knew. Even so, his heart yearned to find Walter Khan and wring his neck for all he was worth. It was an overwhelming urge, similar to the one he had when on his dilaudid addiction many years ago.
The memories of what that addiction did to him - how it almost destroyed his life - was what brought him back to his logical conclusion.
He nodded at JJ and stepped aside so her and Kate could follow Derek. Kate gave him a sympathetic smile and a gentle squeeze of his upper arm, then her and JJ were gone. That left himself, Rossi, Penelope on the phone, and Hotch.
'Dave,' Hotch said, 'You and I are going down to the Chateau and questioning Madame Lacroix. She's got to be back there by now. And she's going to tell us everything she knows about the operation this time.'
'Whether she likes it or not,' Rossi added, nodding at Hotch in agreement as he made to pick up his coat from the chair he'd previously been sitting on.
'Waitwaitwaitwait!' The high pitch urgency of Penelope's voice halted Hotch and Rossi's movements as her face appeared on the huge screen, scrunched with worry.
'What is it, Garcia?' Hotch asked.
'I've been trying to track Y/N's camera location since she got to wherever they're holding her,' she explained, her voice a little high-pitched in desperation. She continued typing furiously on her keyboard as she did.
'You found her?' Spencer asked, his voice desperate, hopeful.
'I wish I could say yes, boy wonder,' she apologised. 'However, while tracking, an unknown window popped up. Check this out...'
Another few clicks on her end and a window - the one she found - popped up beside Penelope's face. The image in that window, however, had Spencer's stomach plummeting through the ground.
You hung with your hands above your head by a chain in the middle of a room, your now bare feet just scraping along the hay that lay all around the floor. You were back in the Warehouse, in the place where you'd shown Spencer and the team where the girls were held and-
'Oh my God,' Penelope breathed out, voice trembling with horror at your beaten state. The camera appeared to be setup on a tripod, keeping your entire body in frame. They'd all seen you fight, but only now could they see the damage you'd taken.
Blood dripped from your nose, down your chin and had already stained the front of your dress a deeper scarlet. Your breaths were laboured, as if you were concentrating on keeping yourself from passing out. You were too far away to make out any other injuries, but Spencer had no doubt the bruises hadn't come out just yet.
'Garcia,' Hotch began, but even in her shocked state, Penelope answered.
'Already on it, sir,' she said, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks to type into her keyboard. 'Triangulating where the feed is coming from.'
It was like the world was slowing down for Spencer the longer he looked at you hanging there. The team had always joked that his IQ always slashed in half whenever he was around you. But that was usually because he couldn't find the words to talk to you properly, how to articulate in the right words just exactly how you made him feel.
In a way, the same thing was happening to him right now, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think because of terror. Because of Walter Khan, who finally strolled into frame, suit jacket discarded and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His rings glinted under the fluorescent lights as he waved at the camera, a smug grin on his face.
'Hi there, FBI,' he said in a sing-song voice. He looked over his shoulder, shuffled so the camera could see you again. 'Say hi to your friends, Y/N. I'm sure they're just... so happy to see you.'
You didn't respond, keeping your gaze just south of the camera, barely blinking. 'She's disassociating,' Rossi stated, recognising like Spencer, that far away look in your eyes. 'She's preparing for torture.'
Spencer gulped as Khan walked over to you slowly, prowling around you like a predator admiring his catch for the night. He remained silent as he did, and Spencer wondered for a moment if that was all he was going to do.
With the speed of a striking snake, however, he gripped your chin with one hand, the chain holding you rattling as you tried and failed to pull away. Grunts of effort escaped you as he forced you to look at the camera.
'Now, now, Y/N,' he cooed, brushing your loose hair away from your face with his free hand. 'There's no need to be shy. Say something.'
Before you could even react, he slammed his fist into your stomach, ripping a pained groan from you. But not a scream. You bit your lip hard. You probably didn't want to give Khan the satisfaction of hearing your pain. A small, hopeful part inside Spencer warmed with pride at your resilience.
Khan let go of your face and took a step back, eyes raking you up and down with a sick, sadistic admiration. 'So you think you're tough, huh?' he challenged, walking to stand behind you and place both hands on your right shoulder. 'Come on, don't hold back those beautiful sounds, baby.'
In one sharp motion, he pressed either side of your shoulder in opposite directions, causing a loud pop to echo through the room. A sharp squeak escaped your lips, but you bit down on your lip again, allowing nothing else out. The light glinted off the tears that brimmed your E/C eyes, but they did not fall. You would not let them, Spencer realised.
Khan's lips split into a sadistic grin, one that clearly revelled in the pain he brought to you. Fire stirred in the pit of Spencer's stomach, which then spread through his limbs, to the tips of his fingers, toes and head.
Never in his life had he had the greater urge to physically harm someone than Walter Khan in that moment.
'So beautiful,' Khan continued, his gentle strokes across your bloodied chin a stark contrast to his previous harsh movement. 'I knew you'd be my favourite the moment you walked through the door. You're not like other girls...'
Bile rose in Spencer's throat when Khan leaned in close to you and tried to kiss you on the lips. You still had enough strength in you to turn away so he brushed your cheek instead. When Khan tried to tilt your head to kiss you properly, you lashed out with your teeth, catching his upper lip and yanking on it. Hard.
Khan pulled back at the sudden attack with an agonised cry, clasping both hands on his lip. Blood seeped through his hands, and when he pulled away, Spencer saw that Khan's teeth and chin were covered in blood.
'Bitch,' he swore, slamming a fist a little higher than your stomach this time, no doubt breaking some ribs. You sucked in air loudly, your gasp masking the cry that Spencer could tell wanted to come out. God, she must be in so much pain. It sickened Spencer knowing what was happening to you and not being able to do anything about it.
'Garcia, anything?' Hotch asked, his usually steady voice cracking with worry as he continued to look at the screen.
'I'm trying, sir. I'm trying!' she cried.
As if sensing their urgency, Khan looked back to the camera and walked back over until only he was in the frame. Drops of blood stained his white shirt, but he didn't seem to notice as he grinned maniacally into the camera. Although Spencer knew he couldn't see them, he felt like Khan was looking directly at him, taunting him, challenging him.
'By the time you find her,' he began, 'she'll be dead. And I'll be long gone. Until next time, FBI.'
Walter Khan's smile was the last thing Spencer saw before the screen went black and the window closed and now it was only him, Penelope, Hotch and Rossi again.
'I-I'm sorry, sir,' Penelope managed out, her voice barely higher than a whisper. 'I-I-I couldn't f-find her. The signal was being rerouted all across the world.'
'We've got to move fast,' Hotch said, and him and Rossi were gone.
Spencer didn't say a word to begin with, unable to get the image of you hanging in that torture chamber out of his head.
By the time you find her, she'll be dead.
He never thought anyone of his team mates would go out being killed in action. Plenty have come and gone from the team, but not been killed. In some naive way, he figured you all were invincible - that nothing would tear you apart.
But after discovering Gideon dead only a few weeks ago, that fantasy of the team staying together forever was cracked. With your life now on the line, too, the cracks were starting to get bigger, with some pieces falling away entirely.
'Spencer,' Penelope's gentle voice brought him out of his own bubble of despair. 'I'm so sorry.'
The overwhelming urge to scream welled up in him - he didn't quite know for who or for what he wanted to scream at, just that it sounded like a better action to take than punching someone. But he didn't scream.
Instead, he gathered himself and turned to look at Penelope, face steeled by sheer will because he had to keep it together if he wanted to bring you home. 'It's Khan who should be sorry,' he replied, voice steady with threat. 'Let's get to work.'
~~~
Pain. It's all you felt. Even three hours later after Khan's beating, you still felt the ghost of his fist pounding into your stomach, into your ribcage. A sharp, piercing pain ricocheted through them whenever you inhaled too quickly. Definitely two or three broken, you concluded.
You laid on the hay on the floor. Khan had lowered your chain which alleviated some pain and pressure from your dislocated shoulder and bruising wrists. But he hadn't done it to help you. 'Don't want you breaking too soon, Y/N,' he had whispered to you when he'd laid you gently to rest. And from his accompanying smile, you knew it was just all a game to him.
He'd been gone for three hours - counting the time helped you forget the pain and terror wracking your body. Despite that, you hadn't allowed yourself to sleep. Daylight seeped through the top windows, bathing you in a warm glow that made you shiver with momentary bliss. You didn't realise how cold you were until the rays hit you.
The metallic taste of blood still haunted your lips even now that your nose had stopped running with it. It still throbbed though, but it was a dull ache in comparison to your shoulder. You could only imagine how rough you looked, and not in a good way.
The thought made you smile, if only for a moment.
The soft patter of footsteps made you sit upright despite your pain, made you pull your hands close to your chest and look at the door as it opened. You kept your face neutral as you watched Walter Khan walk in alone. He wore a new suit today: navy blue with a lilac undershirt and a navy tie with lighter blue and purple flowers embroidered onto it randomly. God, he was pretentious in every manner of the word.
He didn't walk to you straight away as you expected. Instead, he walked over to the table of torture devices to a remote hanging from the ceiling just above it. He pressed the upper button and suddenly you were jerked upwards as the chain retracted higher. You couldn't contain the yelp of pain that escaped you as your arms were pulled harshly over your head once more, placing intense pressure on your throbbing shoulder once more. He let go of the button just before your feet left the ground entirely.
Satisfied, he grabbed a clean towel and a bucket that sat underneath the table. He picked them both up and walked over to you, placed them both on the ground as he continued to look you over. He did that for a minute in silence before you couldn't take it anymore.
'What?' you asked in mock confusion. 'Have I got something on my face?'
You hated how that brought a smile to his ugly face. 'You really should lay off on the moxie, sweetheart,' he said, crouching to wet the towel in the bucket before standing back up to continue talking. 'I really do like that in a girl.'
'Girl, huh? That your preferred age?'
He shrugged, bringing the towel up to your face. Before you could lean away, he used his free hand to grip your chin, keeping you with a firm hold in place as he dabbed the wet towel across your chin, around your nose, and across your lips.
He was cleaning you up.
You were more confused than disgusted. Perhaps a little relieved to be rid of the taste of blood finally, but you would never admit that. If his goal was to kill you, why bother cleaning you up?
His dabs at your face were uncharacteristically soft. 'You've done this before,' you said, only now realising how hoarse your throat was from dehydration and the cold air.
He nodded, his eyes never straying from his task. 'I prefer my girls to be... cleaner than other ones.' He meant other prostitutes, other establishments, you realised. It was a compulsion, even knowing you weren't one of his "girls".
'Would you have to clean Roxy and the others up, too?' you asked despite knowing the answer. 'You get off on seeing others bleed, don't you Khan. It wasn't enough that you would use them, strip them of their dignity, as if they were just toys.'
One second you were breathing air, the next you were choking underneath the crushing pressure that was Khan's grip. His hold was so strong it had you seeing stars in seconds.
'I would stop talking if I were you, bitch,' he hissed, venom dripping from every word. His calm demeanour remained intact, but even with your blurred vision you saw an animalistic rage burning in his eyes.
A caged animal just waiting to be unleashed.
'You don't know anything about me,' he continued. 'And you don't know the half of what I am capable of.'
His grip on you eased a little but not completely. However, it was enough for you to find your voice again. 'I know,' you started, voice slightly wheezy from the lack of air, 'you must have suffered under the hands of someone, probably a woman in the prostitution business, when you were younger. Otherwise... why would you hate women so much?'
He gave you a strange look, one that was sceptical, angry, and intrigued at the same time. Good, if he was off guard, he might slip up and give you something of value.
'Was it your mother?' you asked. 'A sister, aunt?' When he didn't answer you continued. 'Whoever it was must be the reason why you feel as if you've been let down your entire life. That's why you built this empire, isn't it? But even now, successful and thriving off others' pain... that person made you feel you are not enough, and so nothing ever will be. But that person is gone, and you can't show them how successful you've been. That's why you hurt others, right? Because, not only can't you hurt her, you refuse to hurt the one person you hate the most... yourself.'
He stepped back from you completely, and, for the first time, his calm facade breaks to show slivers of horror and shock at your observation. Looks like I hit the nail on the head.
He looked at you for a moment longer, that haunted expression on his face making him look more sick as he shadows of birds flew over his face. You became concerned when he suddenly ran out of the room, leaving you hanging with a clean face and more questions than answers.
You had gotten under his skin; he'd shown you a weak point in his life that you could use against him. He'd looked rattled, which made you more scared than when he was calm. Walter Khan didn't strike you as the kind of man that didn't always make sure he had the upper hand in every situation he walked into. But when he didn't, when he was backed into a corner...
Caged animal waiting to be unleashed.
'What have I done?' you asked into the empty room, but you were still surprised when no one answered back.
~~~
When his vision began splitting in two, Spencer rubbed at his tired eyes. He'd been staring at the map the police station had provided for over five hours now. Him and Penelope had found nothing - no properties in his name, no previous history in the areas, nothing.
But Spencer had kept looking though, refusing to believe that Walter Khan's trail went cold here. Not when he was doing who knew what to you. It was the only thought that kept him motivated, kept his tired eyes from closing entirely on him despite their great protest.
The rising sun wasn't helping with his vision either. After being awake all night, the introduction to natural light and blue skies was a shock to the system he was still adjusting to.
'Any updates from Morgan, JJ or Kate?' he asked, his voice rumbling with exhaustion.
Penelope had remained on the video feed since the others had left, refusing to leave Spencer alone. Maybe she thought he would do something reckless without supervision. If he was being honest, he couldn't blame her for thinking that, not when the murderous urge to strangle Khan with all Spencer's might tingled the tips of his fingers.
Or maybe that was the twelve cups of coffee he'd had in the past five hours finally kicking in.
'Not yet, sorry.' Penelope said wistfully, blinking several times as she continued looking at a screen off to the side of the camera. Even in her tired state, she refused to rub at her face like Spencer in order to preserve her glorious makeup. Spencer had to admit it was impressive. She had a lot more self control than she gave herself credit for.
Just the thought alone had him rubbing his eyes again. 'Are you sure there isn't anything we've missed? What about Q25, Garcia? What's there?'
'Nothing but trees once more, boy wonder.' She heaved a sad, frustrated sigh. 'We've been looking at the same area for hours now and still nothing! What am I doing wrong?'
'It's not you, Garcia,' Spencer offered politely. Truthfully, he simultaneously felt no one was doing enough to find you, and yet they were exhausting everything they could to do so. But he was the one who promised to bring you home, who said it would all be over soon.
It was his fault you were still not found. There was something he wasn't seeing, and every second his supposedly big brain spent trying to figure it out was another second you could be being tortured.
He didn't let the thought that maybe you were already dead linger too long. Not when Hotch and Rossi stormed into the room, exhaustion and anger lining their weary faces. Spencer glanced behind them to see Madame Lacroix and two other men - one older with grey hair, the other much younger - being escorted into holding cells down the corridor.
'Madame Lacroix was a dead end,' Hotch explained before anyone could ask. 'But we managed to expose them for their involvement in Khan's business, and also the other illegal trades they've all been dealing with on the side. L/N's reports and photographs should be enough evidence to charge them on at least that.'
'But we can't bust them just yet on Khan,' Rossi added, his tone defeated. 'Any luck on the geo-profile?'
Spencer shook his head regrettably. 'There are no properties or anything that may indicate he has ties in the direction we think he's operating out of.'
'It's either just woodland or innocent estate living,' Penelope added. 'All names check out, they're not aliases.'
'Morgan, JJ, and Kate better find those girls soon then,' Rossi said. 'They seem to be our only guide to where Khan is hiding out.'
'The thing that is odd to me though,' Hotch started, 'is why he is hanging around. Why not kill L/N knowing she's an agent? Why not skip town or relocate as soon as possible?'
'Because it's a compulsion now,' Spencer found himself saying. He wasn't sure if it was from lack of sleep that he sounded delusional, but he kept talking. He needed to talk, anything to keep his mind off the alternatives. 'Y/N engrained herself so much into his operation that he may have deluded himself into thinking he can make her one of his girls for real.'
'So he'll keep her and use her just like the others,' Rossi said grimly. 'And when she eventually lets him down - as they all have - he'll kill her.'
'We'll find her before it gets to that point,' Hotch said so assuredly that Spencer almost believed it. But the odds were against them, and time was running out.
As if the universe was listening in, Penelope's gasp sent tremors of terror through Spencer as they all turned to her on the screen. 'Guys! The feed is back online!'
'Pull it up and start tracking it,' Hotch ordered, and Penelope didn't need telling twice as she did just that.
You were hanging again, but the blood that covered the lower half of your face was now gone. Your dress was ruffled and dirty in some places, and straws of hay were tangled in your messy hair. He must've lowered you for the remainder of the night, but from the dark circles under your weary eyes, Spencer guessed you hadn't slept.
'He cleaned her up,' Rossi noticed too.
'That's a good thing right?' Penelope said, pausing her tracking for a second.
'No,' Spencer replied. 'It means he's got more in store for her.'
'You were right, Reid. It's a compulsion,' Rossi added.
'Keep tracking, Garcia,' Hotch said.
And there he was.
Walter Khan entered the frame, but instead of taunting them through the camera like last time, he walked straight over to you as if the camera wasn't even on. He grasped your chin, causing you to jerk backwards with a gasp.
'How did you know that?' he asked, voice tight and restrained. When you didn't answer, he pulled you closer with a harsh tug that caused the chains to rattle. 'How did you know?!'
'Lucky... Lucky guess, I suppose,' you replied, eyes flicking from Khan to the camera and back. Something had happened between the last feed and now, Spencer concluded. Some interaction that has brought out the frantic Khan.
'No!' He slapped you, sending you spinning around on the chain. When you swung back towards the camera, the sun highlighted the blood on your lip, how it trembled as you did. 'You knew about my life! No one does! So how would an undercover agent of all people know?'
'Maybe you're just... not as slick as you think you are,' you said in between haggard breaths. Spencer could only imagine how much pain you were in. He was both extremely proud of and extremely terrified for you.
Khan let out a growl that rattled the conference room it was that loud. He lashed out with a hard punch to your gut, then a slanted punch on your knee, receiving a loud crunch and crack in return.
For the first time since being caught, you screamed. It was the most horrible sound Spencer had ever heard in his life - even worse than the gunshot that killed Maeve. It echoed through the Warehouse, a guttural, pained sound that would haunt not only Spencer's dreams but Hotch, Rossi, and Penelope's too.
You gathered yourself quickly and bit down on your lip, silencing your cries. Sunlight showed the tears that gathered at your eyes, still refusing to fall. But Spencer could tell it was taking all you had to keep it together. You knew they were watching. You probably were holding it together for them.
The pride and terror he felt for you was overwhelming to a point his knees almost buckled. But if you could keep it together while being tortured, he could do it too.
Once you'd calmed your breathing, you looked back at Khan, hate in your beautiful E/C eyes. 'Beating me... will get you nowhere... I refuse... to break to you.'
Everyone held their breaths as you held your stare with Khan, and Spencer realised it then.
It hit him in consistent waves that made it hard to catch his breath or even fully realise what was happening. It was how you stared down the crook man, unrelenting, unwavering, unbreakable. It was how, even at you most vulnerable, you made sure to put on a brave face for the team, for him. He hadn't dared think it before - not after Maeve. But the heavy thuds of his heart couldn't be mistaken.
Khan contemplated you for a moment, and then pulled out a pocket knife from his pants. He was calm again which Spencer didn't like one bit. 'Very well, then. You want to act tough?' He didn't wait for a reply as he sliced the top button of your dress off expertly. Then another and another, until almost the entirety of your bra showed. 'Let's see how tough you really are.'
Your eyes blew wide in terror finally realising what his intentions were. Spencer realised a second after, and his blood boiled painfully.
'Garcia,' Spencer managed out, unable to take his eyes off you as Khan sliced off another button and another. By the time he got to the last one, exposing your underwear too, Spencer was on the verge of a panic attack. 'Garcia!'
'I'm honing in on it now!' she called back, but it wasn't enough to quell his fear.
Khan slipped off the dress with a few more slices of the knife, then proceeded to pocket it and press himself against your back. You tried pulling away, but Khan's arms were around you already, feeling you everywhere, violating you.
That's when the tears finally fell. A broken sob escaped your bloodied, trembling lips as Khan's hands dragged all over you, brushing away the hair on your neck to press a sickeningly gentle kiss there.
But instead of completely crumbling, you looked directly into the camera and said, 'I would've said yes.'
For a moment it was just him and you. You words were so soft he almost didn't believe you said them. Spencer saw out of the corner of his eyes Hotch and Rossi didn't understand, but this wasn't about them. You were speaking directly to Spencer, probably with full faith that he was watching and that he was on his way to save you already.
Khan paused his ministrations at the odd statement, giving you a confused look. 'What?'
'I would've said yes,' you repeated, but this time there was a resignation to your words. As if you accepted that those would be the last words anyone would hear you speak. Spencer quickly realised that, as much as you believed he was coming, you didn't believe you would be alive when he finally did.
Khan followed your gaze to the camera, his expression changing as he realised you weren't talking to him.
'I would've said yes,' you said again, not once looking away from the camera.
Khan's hands retracted from you.
'I would've said yes.'
He walked over to the camera.
'I would've said yes.'
'You disappeared behind his huge frame.
'I would've said yes.'
He reached out to switch it off.
'I would've said-'
The feed went dark. The room fell silent, but only for a second. As Spencer stormed out of the room, slamming the door open as he did. He didn't know where he was going, just that he had to get out of that room.
I would've said yes.
The way you'd said it was like you were trying to make sure he heard you - that, as your last words to him, you wanted to let him know of what could've been.
He stormed into the break room where thankfully nobody resided in. He slammed his fist on one of the tables, and kicked at the chair residing at it. Anger coursed through every fibre in him, at Khan, at Holt, at himself.
I would've said yes.
'Reid.'
Spencer turned to find Rossi standing in the doorway, concern wrinkling his weathered features more. 'You okay?' he asked, slowly walking into the room fully then closing the door behind him. 'What was that about?'
'She would've said yes,' was all Spencer could manage out in his wild state of mind, finding it hard to breathe he was so wound up. 'She would've...'
'I heard that,' Rossi said gently. 'I don't know what that means. But you clearly do. So spill, boy genius. What did she mean by that?'
Spencer tugged at his hair in frustration. 'Before she left I asked her out,' he explained, voice rising as his worry did. 'She was never able to give me an answer because she was sworn to secrecy, and I thought that all this time she never liked me liked that because we've been friends for so long, but she would've said yes. You heard her! She would've said yes! And now she-'
'Okay, okay, okay,' Rossi interrupted, gently grabbing Spencer by his arms and guiding him to the chair he'd kicked just before. Spencer didn't have the strength to fight the older man, allowing himself to be guided into a seat.
Rossi crouched in front of Spencer, holding Spencer's shaking hands in his steady ones. 'Just breathe, Reid. Just breathe.'
Spencer followed Rossi' instructions as best as he could, but panic and despair had already crept in. 'Do you know,' he started, lips trembling, voice quaking with emotions he couldn't quite understand, 'that friendships that last longer than seven years... that they are meant to last for life? Y/N and I... we've been friends for a decade.'
'I know,' Rossi answered gently. 'You, JJ, Penelope and Y/N are quite close.'
'Yes, but,' Spencer continued through the sniffles, 'Y/N's always been there. Not just for me, but with me. I never realised how integral to my life she was until she left. I never realised that my love for her was something more until it was too late.'
'You love her?'
Only when Rossi pointed it out did Spencer realise what he'd admitted. But it wasn't a casual slip of the tongue - it was intentional, it was true, it was the only thing he wanted to say because he hated how long it took him to realise it for himself.
He nodded slowly, tears running down his cheeks. 'I didn't know it at first, but it didn't just happen overnight. Truth is... I think I've loved her from the day I met her. Platonically at first, but it's grown as we have, and she is so precious to me Rossi. I can't lose her. I can't.'
Sobs wracked his boney body as he broke down. Rossi pulled him into an awkward but comforting hug, and Spencer couldn't express how grateful he was for such comfort. Rossi had grown into the father figure he'd made Gideon out to be; and while Spencer had learnt to stand on his own two feet, it was reassuring knowing he had someone older and wiser to rely upon.
'It's like Maeve all over again,' Spencer found himself saying, still clinging onto Rossi like his life depended on it. 'Just when I glimpse happiness, it's snatched away. And there is nothing I can do about it.'
'No, no,' Rossi said, pulling back to look Spencer directly in his amber eyes. 'You listen to me, boy wonder. We are going to find her, and we're going to bring her home. And you are going to tell her how you feel and finally take her on a date. Is that understood?' When Spencer didn't answer, Rossi continued.
'Remember how when Maeve died, you holed yourself up in your apartment for weeks, and didn't talk to anyone?' Spencer nodded, but only because he didn't quite understand why Rossi was bringing it up. 'And remember how we all came by to visit, but mostly Y/N? That was because she believed you were strong enough to get through it. She never doubted you, never gave up on you, Spence. Are you really going to return the favour by giving up on her?'
Spencer stared at Rossi for a moment, perplexed that he even would suggest such a thing. He quickly wiped his tears away, though. 'No,' he answered, voice stern and hopeful.
'Good,' Rossi replied, standing back up. 'Now use that big brain of yours. There's got to be something that we missed.'
Before Spencer could answer, the door to the break room swung open to reveal a flustered Derek Morgan. 'We found them,' he said between heavy breaths. 'We found the girls.'
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perplexingluciddreams · 3 months
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Hi! if is okay , can you please show what is in daily life folder ? trying to make my own but ended up just doing ADLs and wonder if there is something I am missing . Thanks!
Yes, I can show! First thing to understand, is how these two right side columns work in Supercore. When you click a folder there, most of them only changes the cells on those two columns (excluding a few, OR unless there is another link within there, to open up to a full-screen folder).
Here is how it looks at the home grid:
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[Image description: Two right hand columns in Supercore 50. Full of cyan colour folders with symbols, black colour text label, and a black cut off top right corner. Order from left to right and top to bottom; daily life, leisure, chat, my news, position, places, time, feelings, topics, education, messages, spelling. End ID.]
For daily life + leisure folders, it opens to more folders within. I will put pictures, so you can see!
This is the first layer within "daily life" folder:
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[Image description: More two columns of cyan folders. From left to right and top to bottom; toilet, AAC, eat & drink, accessibility, comfort, emergency, scheduling, medical, going places, travel, sleeping. The bottom right corner is a link to more. End ID.]
And this is what shows when you press "more":
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[Image description: Left to right and top to bottom; dating, shopping, eating out, cooking, washing, learning, dressing, blank, job, blank, banking, blank. End ID.]
I cannot show within every single folder, but I will give examples. And if you want to see a specific one, just ask!
Here is the "sleeping" folder:
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[Image description: Sleeping folder with the words; time, alarm, read, book, night, dream, pillow, hug, sleep, tired, bed. In the top right corner, there is a "phrases" folder. End ID.]
And here is inside the "phrases" folder. There is a separate phrases folder for each separate topic, with different phrases. (But some phrases is in every/almost every folder, because they are common. Like, "I need help" for example).
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[Image description: Phrases folder from within the sleeping folder. It has common phrases such as "I need help", "I can do it", "I don't know". And also specific phrases relating to sleep, such as "I need to set an alarm", "please reposition me", and "good night". End ID.]
And here is the AAC folder, which I edited myself to have words I will actually use, relating to this topic. I will probably continue to edit the words inside these folders, because there is some spaces taken by words that I can easily find quickly in other places.
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[Image description: Similar to the sleep folder, there is the phrases folder on the top right. The buttons are; AAC, device, word, Supercore 50, Grid 3, keyboard, sign, communicate, understand, communication, speech. End ID.]
The phrase list for the AAC folder is similar, with some same common phrases. And other specific phrases such as, "The word is not on my device", "Please add it to my device", etc.
It is quite complicated to explain every single part of how these right side columns work, but there is videos on Smartbox YouTube account that shows a lot about Supercore 50, if you want to see more! And I am happy to show more specific things, if you ask 😊👍🏻
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rimeiii · 4 months
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I hate beating up a dead horse (and in fear of incurring the wrath of the fandom once more) but the way WHB handles content warnings is just...
Where are the detailed content warnings? Not just for the angels, but for everything? Because honestly, I think the game would've garnered less backlash for having them - a "this game is made for mature audiences, viewer discretion is advised" screen before logging in would be the bare minimum honestly.
Say what you want about the angel cards including dub/non-con content and the cards themselves veering towards that sort of territory but at least give a fucking warning about it? I've always criticized the devs for not having 18+ rating all across the board when clearly mature games like Limbus Company get the 18+ rating. If WHB is NSFW because of the sex and kinky stuff, Limbus is NSFW because of the immense amount of gore and dark content.
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"But they have content warnings-" ONLY FOR SEX. AND PAIRED WITH 16+.
It would be perfectly reasonable to assume that, for people who played this game without following any of the pre-release contents, with this combination THERE WON'T BE ANY DETAILED DUB/NON-CON.
This is in Indonesia's Google Play Store, and if it's different in other regions, then it also begs the question - why the FUCK is it not just rated 18+ across the board?!
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Limbus Company, the closest comparison I can think of being with their devs (Project Moon) also being a Korean indie company that created a gacha with mature content that has a staff team the size of a high school class (in fact I wager Limbus has less staff working on the game because around half of their staff works almost exclusively at their merch café), only had warnings for extreme violence and strong language, but at least they had the decency to put more warnings in their earliest trailers and the game website - and it's always common courtesy in the fandom to warn potential players with one particular image I'll show down below, containing a list of the game's content warnings.
Oh, and they're rated 18+ across the board, including a Mature Content Description on Steam.
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And sure, you can make the argument of "well you know what you're getting into upon looking at the card art", but therein lies the issue of not warning at the very start of the game - nobody knew for sure what triggers would be in the game upon startup.
Whatever way you slice it, dub/non-con is a genuine trigger for other people despite it also being a kink (I personally don't get it and it's a no-no for me even in fiction, but you do you). Adding clear content warnings would literally harm no one and helps people avoid things they know they don't want to consume. Yes, despite the in-game context clues providing hints, a clear indicator is still preferable.
Take, for example, the Lobelia summer skin controversy in Granblue Fantasy. People already know Lobelia as the twisted Evoker who not only murdered his own parents but recorded their dying screams of pain in his conch shells, doing the same thing to his countless victims afterwards. All of this is mentioned during the Fate Episodes to recruit him. You want to know the problem with his summer skin, Danger Beckons by the Shore, though?
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There's a home screen voiceline where he offers one of his conch shells for the player to listen to, wherein you will hear the pained and tortured screams of one of his victims as she's attacked and later on eaten alive by a shark. Keep in mind, this sort of voiceline wasn't even in his base art, and while his Fate Episodes had tortured screams it wasn't even half as bad as this particular voiceline.
It's even given a content warning in the wiki.
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For a rather significant amount of players who bought the skin, the inclusion of this voiceline despite the subtle warning in the skin blurb (which, fyi, is only accessible AFTER you bought the skin) hampers their enjoyment of the skin when they put it on their home screens then tap Lobelia - which many people who get character skins do. Mostly because there wasn't any clear indicator of the scream and a lot of people never appreciated the sudden jumpscare scream. The fact that Lobelia is a psychopath and doing this shit is in character for him should also be able to stand together with the fact that including a scream out of nowhere is pretty scummy and not a good time. Especially for non-JP speaking players, who essentially got jumpscared by a scream out of nowhere, as they never understood the fact that Lobelia was offering one of his conch shells.
Back to the rating issue, though. Why not rate WHB as 18+ if you're going to include content that could very much be considered controversial, like non-con? Like, say, Limbus Company (which I hate bringing up again bc fuck kjh)? Which not only has the warnings in the app store but plastered in the earliest trailers (still viewable on Steam and Project Moon's YouTube channel but not on the Google Play Store) and the official game website?
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And sure. Some of these trigger warnings sound silly (reference to traffic accidents is more or less Charon driving Mephi like a maniac iirc based on the content we already have in the game). But I did genuinely appreciate the warning because let's talk about the first three Cantos after the prologue, hmm?
Canto 1 already includes cannibalism, war, torture, and body modifications, among other things! Canto 2 has references to alcohol and gambling, as well as mentions of homicide - despite being a lighter Canto overall! And in Canto 3, we experienced discriminatory violence, more body modifications, enforced ideologies and/or actions, and religious torture and violence among other things!
I can stomach gore easier compared to non-con and even I appreciate the warning, particularly with regards to Canto 3. Kromer's fascination with everything pure (i.e. no body modifications), all stemming from seeing...something...in the basement of Sinclair's old mansion, the cult behaviour that led to mass murder and torture by the faction she leads (up to and including brainwashing as detailed by Kleinhammer Heathcliff's Identity story) Kromer's obssession with Sinclair and him standing beside her as an ally...it's all genuinely so unnerving, and are story beats the game handles really well despite how disturbing it all really is when you stop and think about it.
"But you should've known considering the game's aesthetics-"
Maybe, especially considering one of Gregor's launch cards is literally this, and most if not all Uptie II arts are gory at the very least.
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However, again, I have to underline the importance of content warnings - this time with an irl example.
I have a friend who was interested in Limbus Company. I've talked extensively about Gregor and how much I love him, and it started because I have a drawing I made of him in the back of my phone case and Liu Gregor's Uptie II art as my phone background at the time. They said they were interested, then I had to explain the sorts of contents she would encounter in my native language, Indonesian.
"Blood and gore, violence, a lot of mental health issues - Gregor has PTSD and his chapter depicted it pretty well, human experimentation, homicide, so Nagel und Hammer is basically the Inquisition and kills people to 'purify' them, oh yeah cannibalism is also a thing-"
"Stop, stop, I'm not playing if that's the content I'm going to see. I don't think I can handle it."
This same friend was also interested in playing If On a Winter's Night, Four Travelers - a free point-and-click adventure game that deals with themes like depression, homophobia, racism, and suicide. She was willing to try that game out because it wasn't as gory as Limbus Company. For context, the Mature Content Description for this game on Steam:
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In both cases, I had to personally explain the content warnings in Indonesian since my friend isn't the most fluent in English and she has a far lower limit for dark content compared to me, but I did send that image of content warnings for Limbus Company and urged people to read the Mature Content Descriptions on Steam for anyone who wanted to try any of the two games and is fluent in English. Why?
Because it's basic human decency to try and keep people informed of any potential triggers and content they might not be comfortable seeing.
Either way, main takeaway from this issue:
Dub/non-con might be your kink, but it might not be for others - it might be uncomfortable or downright triggering as all hell for others, in fact. So, clear content warnings (in particular for any and all triggering content) harm nobody, especially as it helps people avoid story beats where their turn-offs and, more importantly, their triggers.
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hopeswriting · 1 year
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[Gifs description copied from alt text: A gifset from Doctor Who (2005).
1: The Eleventh Doctor says to Amy, "Spin it clockwise, four turns."
"Ten," she says.
"No, four, four turns."
She frowns, saying, "Yeah, four, I heard you."
2: "Five minutes, max," the Doctor says. 
"Nine," Amy says. 
"Five," the Doctor corrects.
"Five, right, yeah."
"Why did you say nine?"
"I didn't," she says, like she doesn't know what he's talking about.
3: "Eight," Amy says, making the Doctor turns his head to her, taking note of it.
"What did you say?" River asks her.
"Nothing," she says.
4: "Seven," Amy says.
"Seven?" the Doctor echoes her, before hurrying to her.
"Sorry, what?" she asks.
"You said seven."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did," River says.
5: "Six," Amy says, and River looks at her.
The Doctor stands, looking serious. "OK, Bob, enough chat," he says in his communicator. "Here's what I want to know. What have you done to Amy?"
6: The Doctor and Amy face each other, both him and River looking at her worryingly.
"Doctor, I'm five," she says. "I mean, five. Fine!" she corrects herself again, now looking worried too. "I'm fine."
7: "Amy, what's wrong?" River asks her, holding onto her as she sways on her feet, as if about to fall.
"Four," she says.
8: It's a close-up on Amy's face, showing the Weeping Angel inside her eye. "Three," she says, and the Doctor stands, letting his hands fall from where they were covering his mouth. /End GD]
Come on, come on, come on, wakey, wakey! She watched an Angel climb out of the screen, she stared at the Angel, and, and... (in bold) The image of an Angel is an Angel. (plain text again) A living mental image in a living human mind. We stare at them to stop them getting closer, we don’t even blink, and that is exactly what they want, ‘cause as long as our eyes are open, they can climb inside. There’s an Angel in her mind! [He covers his mouth with his hands in shock and horror.]
Doctor Who (2005) | Flesh and Stone (5.05)
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