#that may be to do with the bracket spreading further through that space of the fandom as it gets more followers

[dw-companion-bracket]

Bit late now but I think separating classic who and new who would have been a good idea and a bit fairer.

well yeah, but also that would have been kinda less interesting, i've loved watching certain classic companions narrowly gain victories from what i thought would have been obvious nuwho sweeps (thinking especially about the ian/clara match) and also seeing which classic characters have ended up being winning and iconic (hi ian). tbh if there was one thing i'd change going back to the start, it would be not putting four characters from any category through, because that's what made it possible for there to (technically only potentially but probably certainly) be an rtd-only semifinal and final, although that's also in part a problem of assuming equality across nuwho eras and classic who eras as two broad categories, and then splitting every group across the four corners of the bracket rather than, say, putting two rtd characters into two of the semifinal feeders. idk, there's lots of ways it could have been done differently, but the "unfair" results are also part of the interesting bits for me

#especially seeing which results are sweeps and which results are really tight #like every rose round except this semifinal has been so close #to the point where she'd always be losing as i go to bed then in the lead when i wake up #interestingly enough ace is the only one not giving her a real run for her money #that may be to do with the bracket spreading further through that space of the fandom as it gets more followers #maybe it's because more people know ace and can therefore make a decision on it ??? #fuck knows tbh #because she's been SWEEPING up until now where it's a confident loss #i will post more analysis stuff after the final i think. there's gonna be a few categories of 'winner' to split things up a bit #i was gonna say that doing a 'classic companions poll' would be unoriginal cos i've seen 2 of those #but there was a broader companions one that was also run #hence the blog description #the thing is tho. nobody ever thought this was in any way a scientific method of assessing popularity or 'quality' #(i'll spare you the rant on the nonexistence of objective quality) #so why not let us see where the bias swings? i've enjoyed watching it at least #seeing different peoples arguments #etc #idk sorry im rambling on a very simple ask. but u get my point. the point being that i have a critical mass of autism. #ask

[darksigns-exe]

Remember Where We Started Out - Noah x Nick x OFC

Paring: Noah Sebastian x Nicholas Ruffilo x OFC Warnings: Handjobs (M receiving), the usual poly shenanigans Word Count: 1.5k

He doesn’t want to think about what comes later, not when he feels so impossibly loved. Not when they’re right there and he knows that they won’t leave.

Noah doesn’t think that he’ll ever get used to waking up between them. The novelty of it just doesn’t wear off and hopes that it never will. The soft bodies that bracket his keep him warm, no matter how heated his own becomes at night. 

They’d gone to bed after him, having been out on a little date that pervious evening. It’s all part of the agreement. One on one time so that no one feels left out. That they settle around him like this makes him feel a little fuzzy inside. They’re all around him somehow, too. She’s curled against his front, back pressed to his chest. Her body rises gently with every breath she draws into her lungs. The way he’s holding her, his face is practically buried into her hair. The honey-sweet smell that he’s come to connect with her so inherently burrows itself deeper into his mind. 

The arm around his middle tightens a little more, as the shape behind him scoots a little closer. Nick’s bare skin is a welcomed comfort against his. That soothing presence he exudes even in his sleep never fails to calm his nerves. 

They don’t usually fall asleep like this, but most days he wakes up with them wrapped around each other in some way – always touching in some way. 

Nick’s lips press against his bare shoulder blade. 

Noah tries to turn his head back to face the other, but he can’t quite reach the other. His fingers dance across Noah’s middle, all delicate and barely there. He can’t stop the whine the breaks from his lips.    

Nick is quick to shush him, though, pressing another soft kiss to his back. 

“Be good.” He says quietly, his breath brushing against Noah’s skin. 

The hand against his belly wanders lower. Noah lets himself sink into the touch. There’s barely enough space between her back and his belly for Nick to move his hand, but he manages to manoeuvrer it across his front expertly. The touch, innocent as it may be, goes straight to his cock. He presses himself back against Nick, hoping to get a little more out of it. 

Instead, Nick grips his hips tightly, stopping him from moving further. His fingers dig into Noah’s skin, and he feels his mind go blank just for a moment. He lets his eyes flutter close as Nick pulls him back a little farther, creating a bit more space between their bodies.

His hand drifts lower – lower still. Nick palms across his clothed cock. His hand is warm and heavy against him. But this part is still so new, he wants to feel all of it so desperately, but that door doesn’t quite open all the way yet. At least he doesn’t seize up any more whenever Nick touches him. 

“This okay?” The voice breaks through his thoughts. 

He nods “Good.”

Nick's hand shifts behind the elastic of his boxers. The breath he draws in spills out against her skin, and Noah can feel her shift just a little bit. His mind is quickly drawn back to where Nick's hand spreads against his skin. There’s a little bubble of panic in his chest that bursts as quickly as it appeared.  

They’ve done this a few times now and it gets easier every time. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Nick, but his mind gets so stuck in its tracks sometimes. It’s easier when it’s all three of them and his mind is so full of them that he can’t focus on anything else but the sensations they submit him to. 

Maybe Nick senses the faint trace of inhibition in him. His hand stops its gentle wandering and Noah feels another kiss being pressed to the top of his shoulder. 

“Do you want to wake her? Would that help?” 

Sometimes he wonders if Nick takes offence to his hesitance, if it makes him feel as if Noah doesn’t want this — doesn’t want him. 

“I think she’s just pretending to be asleep.” Nick says, and he doesn’t have to check to know that he’s smiling. 

He feels Nick's chin dig into his shoulder, as the older leans over him as best as he can with the way they’re positioned. 

Noah pulls her a little closer against him, “Baby?” He whispers against the shell of her ear. 

He can tell that her silence is forced, and he knows the game she’s trying to play all too well. Noah grazes his lips against her ear, kisses the spot just behind it, where she’s just a little bit ticklish. A sure fire way to rouse her. 

She tenses just barely, grumbles something into the soft down duvet.

“Stop fussing. I need you to help our boy, can you do that?” Nick brings his hand across both of their bodies to her waist, squeezing it gently. 

She shifts in Noah’s embrace until she is facing both of them. He likes how she looks first thing in the morning, even with the red splotch on her cheek from where her skin had been pressed against his all night, even with the messy hair that falls into her face. Or maybe it’s because of all that. 

In the faint trail of light that falls through the partially opened curtains, her eyes glimmer with that hunger he knows too well. 

She trails her fingers against his cheek, “Were you playing without me?” The offence in her words is more bark than bite. “You know that I love to watch you fall apart.”

Nick's hand returns to where it had been before, his fingers drawing indistinguishable patterns against the skin of his abdomen. It wanders lower slowly, just as she untangles herself from him enough so that she can actually touch him. 

He doesn’t know how they do it, but just as Nick’s hand wraps around him, she brings her lips to his in a barely-there kiss. Her hands cradle his face, keep his attention on her, as Nick begins to move. They work in tandem to keep him occupied, her lips drifting against all the spots that make him sigh, while Nick works him ever closer to the edge. His hand works along his shaft a little slower than Noah would like. But it moves, and he can already feel the heat blooming in his chest. 

It’s torture at the same time.

The grip Nick has on him is a firm, the drag not as slick as he would like it to be. Her teeth graze against his jaw, and Noah can’t hold the gasps back any more. They always take such good care of him. Nick’s palm drags across the head of his cock. 

“You’re a mess already.” He muses against Noah’s skin, “I don’t think he’s gonna last long.” 

“He never does. Not with you. Likes it too much.” Her words fuel the burning in his belly, “Don’t you, baby?”

He nods just so. The words won’t come and the sound he makes is a broken little thing, barely a whimper. Her hands continue to drift over his body. The gentle touch soothes his nerves enough to allow him to focus on the pleasure Nick administers so delectably. With the added slick of his precum the slide of Nick’s hand drives him ever closer to that edge. His mind feels all fuzzy and warm. His own hands scramble for purchase against her frame, gripping tightly into her flesh. He keens when Nick drags his thumb over the head again. Her exploratory fingers drag across his chest. The faint scrape of her nails against his nipple has him gasping for air. 

The steady movement of Nick’s hand drags him closer and closer to his end. It’s bordering on too much. He doesn’t know what part of it throws him over the edge, not that it matters. Their words blur into static as he feels his release spill across Nick’s hand. They’re so close around him, hands touching, soothing. Noah faintly feels himself gasping against her skin, her hand wrought into his hair as Nick works him through it. 

Eventually, when the sensation becomes too much, he paws at Nick’s arm, desperate for him to stop. As much he occasionally enjoys the ache that comes with it, this morning he craves the gentle warmth that only the pair of them can provide him with. 

He feels Nick shift before his hand brushes against her lips. She accepts the fingers gratefully, and Noah watches as they dip into her mouth. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get used to the way her eyes fall shut when she gets her mouth on one of them. When Nick retracts his fingers again, she brings her lips to his. Noah can taste himself on her lips — not that he minds. The mingled taste of them makes his head swim. 

He knows that it won’t always be like this. There’ll be days when he won’t wake up with both of them by his side, but he knows that they’ll be there when he needs them. He doesn’t want to think about what comes later, not when he feels so impossibly loved. Not when they’re right there and he knows that they won’t leave.

#bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #noah sebastian x ofc #nicholas ruffilo x ofc

[scintillating-galaxias]

the inherent homoeroticism of the training room floor

some driftrod kissing in the middle of sword fighting practice, just ‘cause

(read it here on ao3!)

-

Today, they’re practicing sword versus no-sword combat. Rodimus feels it’s obsolete because sword should win every time. He tells Drift as much; Drift just smirks at him, and proceeds to hand him his aft in three seconds flat.

Now they circle each other, Rodimus with a casualty Ultra Magnus would deem sloppy, but he called disarming, and Drift with well-practiced poise. Optics alert, legs perfectly spaced, servos curled, ready to catch anything Rodimus may throw at him.

Catch… Hm. Now that was an idea.

Rodimus grins and throws the sword to the side, leaving Drift with just barely a second to look confused before Rodimus is launching himself at him. Drift shouts and tries to sidestep out of the way, but Rodimus snags him by the arm at the last second, and they both go tumbling across the floor in a complete mess of limbs and curses. When Rodimus feels them losing momentum, he waits until the last second to heave his whole mass one last time. When they finally come to a stop, Rodimus is atop Drift with one servo splayed on the ground just next to his head, and his forearm pressed down against the softer cables of his throat.

He’s missed this so much.

“I dunno about you,” Rodimus says with a smug cocking of his helm, “but this feels like winning to me.”

Drift rolls his optics. “If you can win a sword fight without using a sword… Sure. But you really shouldn’t do that again. I’m serious, Rodimus,” he said firmly when Rodimus cocked a smug smile at him. “You’re lucky I didn’t have any weapon to try to block you with. I could have really hurt you if I did. If I had a sword, you would able to stop yourself from flying into it. If I had a gun, I could have shot you. Your future opponents won’t be so kind.”

“Worked on you, didn’t it?” Rodimus grinned. “That means it’s guaranteed to work on anyone else.”

“I feel like that may be an abuse of logic.”

“How about this then? I think it means I’m just that good.”

“How would you know?”

“Ouch. Lose a life.”

“You’ve used that line before.”

“Originality is a sham, Drift.”

That gets a quiet chuckle out of Drift, which makes Rodimus huff a laugh that gets a little caught somewhere in his intake and comes out as a bizarre snrk sound.

Drift sputters. “What was that?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even know I could make that noise!” Rodimus exclaims.

“Can you do it again?”

“I dunno, wait, wait, hold on—Primus it was like, I think… Nope, that’s not it. I got my intake to close up a bit near the back of my glossa? I can’t do it now—”

“Like this—?”

Drift replicates the noise perfectly, but he seems to realize partway through it how absolutely ridiculous it is to be pinned on the ground by his best friend while making stupid noises at him because he bursts out into laughter. That sets them both off, and then they can’t quite seem to stop. It’s like the fact that they can still giggle themselves strutless despite everything this universe has each done to them is in and of itself hilarious.

“This is dumb,” Rodimus wheezes.

“I know, I know,” Drift gasps out, glowing drops of fluid glimmering in the corners of his optics. Rodimus really likes Drift’s laugh. He really likes Drift’s laugh. It’s a rarity, and so soft most of the time, like he isn’t quite sure he’s doing it right, and it brings a probably weird amount of joy to Rodimus to be graced with hearing it.

Their helms are just inches apart when they finally collect themselves, their attempt at calming down broken up by bouts of snickering. A sweet, light joy bubbles through Rodimus that has him grinning uncertainly at Drift as their optics meet. They’ve been close before, but never like this. Never where Rodimus’ exhaust pipes bracket Drift’s helm. Never where Drift’s servo hovers hesitantly over Rodimus’ abdominal plating. Never where they can each feel the press of a question with every unsteady in-and-exvent.

I could kiss him. He could. And it should alarm Rodimus how much he suddenly wants to kiss Drift just a touch more. But what actually alarms him is how little alarm he feels. And then he realizes that he absolutely shouldn’t be considering this at all. He thinks, I should move, and he does not. I need to move, he tries again, and still, he does not. Neither does Drift. The moment to brush aside the awkwardness comes and goes once, and then twice. It shifts into something else entirely when Drift’s optics flash as Rodimus’ gaze slips downward.

“I wan—”

“Can you—”

They stop at the same time, then try speaking at the same time. And they laugh again, more a rush of warm air through their vents that mingles and disperses as a single breath across their faceplates than an actual laugh.

“You first,” Drift says quickly.

Rodimus swipes his glossa along his bottom lip. He’s almost painfully aware of the soft, slight trembling of Drift’s chassis beneath his servos, every slight shift in his frame when he tilts his helm at Rodimus.

“I was gonna say.” He stops. He couldn’t really be thinking of actually saying it, was he? Should he? Every ounce of logic in him says no, absolutely not, what the Pit are you thinking, do you want to ruin everything again? but a keen spark behind Drift’s optics says yes. “I was gonna say,” he tries again with too much honesty rasping his voice, “I think I wanna kiss you.”

Drift’s lips part further, probably definitely to ask just what kind of rust had spread to Rodimus’ processor, or to demand him to get the hell off of him. Either way, it really shouldn’t make Rodimus want to kiss him more.

But then nothing comes out. Drift just stares at Rodimus with this—this completely dumbfounded look, like he needs to replay his audio feeds to confirm, and then re-confirm the nonsense Rodimus had just spewed at him. Why isn’t he saying anything? Drift always knew what to say. Primus, Rodimus must have royally fragged it if he’s struck Drift speechless. He should apologize. Or laugh and go, Kidding! Unless Drift actually said yes, in which case, he totally wasn’t, and scrap, he actually really, really wants to kiss Drift right now.

“What about you?” he blurts, because he is an idiot who just told his best friend he wants to kiss him. With a sharp intake, Rodimus moves to scramble off of Drift, but a strong servo shoots out and holds him firm. Rodimus stares at Drift, spoilers twitching, in-vents coming pressed and quick, optics roving wildly for any sign to tell him that this is another irreparable mistake. A tension in Drift’s neck struts, an uncomfortable flick of his audial fins, a stiffness to his jaw. But there’s nothing, nothing but fondness and reassurance and a smile warm with understanding.

Drift tightens his grip.

“Actually,” he says softly, “I was going to ask if you would kiss me.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Rodimus says dumbly. “I—Hahhh, no! I mean—” he backtracks clumsily when Drift’s eager face falls, and that spark in his optics had been hope, Rodimus simply hadn’t realized it for what it was until it was gone. God, shit, was this actually happening? “I mean, yes! Yes, I—Scrap, I wanna, and I was gonna, kiss you, but uh, I didn’t wanna do it if you didn’t want me to, ’cause that’s a scrap thing to do, but I still kinda really want to? No, slaggit, I do, I do want to—”

Drift’s smile, which had steadily returned and grew as Rodimus rambled, quirks in a fondly annoyed way. Rodimus stammers to a stop when Drift suddenly hauls him in until their faces, their lips, are just a breath apart.

“I want you to, too,” he says simply.

“Frag,” Rodimus whispers. “Seriously?”

“Have you ever known me to joke?”

“Okay, that is the biggest load of scrap I’ve ever heard. Remind me again who it was that—”

“Rodimus,” Drift says, and oh, didn’t that teasing lilt to Rodimus’ name sound like a, please?

“Frag,” Rodimus says again, and they finally crash together. Right away, Drift sighs, his mouth opening just the slightest, but Rodimus doesn’t try to push it. He’s too enthralled by how Drift’s lips are so smooth and cool beneath his. They’re addictively soft, and he can’t help tilting his helm a little bit to sink closer into that comfort. That small action sends a flare of hot yes-good-this-is-right through his whole frame, and he groans as it rushes over him. Drift hums in return and finally cups his servos to Rodimus’ sides, and it feels… The right word can’t quite make it through the giddy buzz scrambling his thoughts. All Rodimus knows is that if the frighteningly powerful bolt of more that shoots through him is when Drift presses closer actually means anything, it must be something synonymous with pretty damn amazing.

They eventually somehow manage to sit up without breaking the kiss. Rodimus is hyper-aware of every instance of where they touch, the scrape of their armor, the heat it brings, the prickle it leaves. Drift does something with this mouth that Rodimus can’t pinpoint, but it fires off a thrill that goes straight to his spark and leaves him hastily shooing away the warnings for his cooling fans to flick on. It’s a kiss he berates himself—admittedly a damn good one, but nothing should be getting him this excited. Maybe it’s just a symptom of kissing Drift specifically.

Rodimus shifts his legs to instead be on either side of Drift’s hips, effectively straddling him. He can arrange their chest plates better this way so he can make their kiss deeper. Really, it’s innocent! Mostly! But the second the thought occurs of what were to happen if he were to move down a few inches, if he were to slide their closed arrays over each other, he realizes how easy it is to turn this into something he’d never forgive himself for if he ruined it.

Reluctantly, Rodimus moves away with a faintly wet noise. He doesn’t go far; his lips still graze Drift’s with every quiet in and exvent. He isn’t sure how to proceed from this sparking stillness that’s settled between them. Given how Drift tilts his forehead forward to lean on Rodimus’ cheek and simply sighs, he doesn’t know, either. Part of Rodimus wants to back away and ask what in the Pit they’re doing. The other half is dangerously attracted to the faint sheen on Drift’s lip and wants to tackle him into the floor again.

He does neither because Drift ends up beating him to the punch anyway.

“Alright?” he murmurs, his optics a hooded, glimmering blue.

Rodimus can’t help it: he laughs again. “Alright?” he rasps incredulously. “I am—so-hoh alright right now. I’ve literally never been more alright in my whole functioning. Uh.” A blush decides right now is the appropriate time to show up. “A-and what about you? You alright?”

Drift grins. He’s got a beautiful smile. It’s so big and bright, and he somehow does it with his whole frame like it can’t be contained just within his face. His audial fins flick up and twitch a little bit, his optics shine, his chest piece swells a little bit. It’s incredible, and Rodimus is a little stunned at how late he is to realize how much he loves it, how much he loves—

“I’ve never been better.”

Rodimus sighs and ducks his head into the junction between Drift’s neck and shoulder. “What about us?” he murmurs. “Are we alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

“...I can’t believe we did that on the training room floor.”

“I know.”

“Wanna do it again?”

“God, yes.”

#driftrod #drift #rodimus #mtmte #maccadam #fluff #my writing #yeah i got hit with the feeling of #yknow. when ur brain enters dumbass mode because u realize u love someone #yeah

[mermaidxatxheart]

Crazy in Love

So, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything. I was having trouble with my external hard drive and even now I have to use my old, slow as shit laptop to post this. This one came from a story prompt given to me by @everythingisoverrated​ I hope you like it.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 8,681

Summary: An attack is coming from outer space. Big surprise. Another day, another dollar. Team Cap and Team Iron Man are joining forces, but Steve calls in someone from Bucky’s past to help with this particular mission. And Bucky isn’t happy about it at all.

Warning: Smut, anger, angst, violence, deadly injuries, and obviously swearing because it’s me.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DON’T READ ANY FURTHER

“I dunno, Steve. This is crazy, even for you.” Bucky mutters, rolling up his scouting maps. 

“That’s why I’ve brought in help.” Steve has a wicked glint in his eye and Bucky doesn’t like it one bit.  

“By help you mean... Natasha? Or Wanda?” He asks, tucking his maps away. 

“Uh, close.” Steve focuses on someone behind him. Bucky half turns and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” He starts to turn back to his best friend. “Steven-“  

Shockingly, Steve is nowhere to be seen.  

“Damn it, Rogers,” Bucky mutters. You approach and Bucky isn’t sure if he wants to take a swing at you or push you against the wall and kiss you like his life depends on it. You always have that effect on him.  

Completely infuriating, but stupidly attractive. 

“Hey, Buck.” You grin, your eyes dipping down over his body slowly before coming back up to his face.  

“Y/N.” He replies through clenched teeth. Better to just stay stock still before his body does something his mind doesn’t approve of.  

See, he knows you’re crazy. He knows that being around you is bad for his health, you’re gonna kill him one of these days. Either through stress or just straight putting a bullet in him. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you every time he sees you. He had to end your relationship months ago when he realized that while his mind said ‘stay away she’s nine pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag’ his body said ‘but the sex is amazing. She’s everything you want.’  You can’t have that kind of conflict in a healthy relationship. 

And so he ended it.  

And regrets it every day since.  

“Looks like we’re gonna be work together.” You say, leaning against the table next to him. Your arm is touching his and he can feel the electricity between you two. 

“Look, you just stay on your side of the field and I’ll stay on mine.” He grumbles. He doesn’t want to be any closer to you than he has to. He can already feel his willpower crumbling.  “

If that’s how you want to play it.” You shrug and he feels a trap coming. He can feel it hanging in the air, he’s not sure what it’s going to be yet, but he just knows you’re going to trap him, you love your games. 

“Great. That’s settled.” He turns and stomps away, making his escape before you can trick him. 

“Any spare long-distance rifles I can borrow?” You ask, appearing right next to him. He tries not to flinch, to keep control at least outwardly. You don’t need to know that you startled him.  

“In the armory,” Bucky mutters, having no intention of taking you there. You can find your own way. 

“I love the armory.” You hum, stretching your arms above your head so your stomach is exposed. 

Damn it, he’s not supposed to look.  

He snaps his eyes forward. 

“Remember the first time you took me there?” You purr, your fingers creeping up his metal arm. “You bent me over the table in the middle-“ 

“Stop.” Bucky clenches his jaw. His blood is simmering in his veins and he doesn’t want to remember that day, how fucking good you felt all wrapped around him, panting and crying out his name. 

Shit. 

“What will you give me?” You tease and his heart skips a beat in his chest. 

“To stop talking? An-“ he cuts off, knowing he has to be careful with his words. “What do you want?” 

“A little contest.”  

There it is. 

He fucking walked right into it and didn’t even see it coming. 

“A contest?” He repeats. 

“Yeah. We’re going to be killing alien bad guys all day, might as well make it interesting. Whoever kills the most wins.” You shrug like it’s the simplest thing in the whole world. 

“And the winner gets what?” Bucky sighs. 

“Anything he or she may want. Within reason, obviously.” You amend and he knows you threw that in for his benefit.  

Once you win, and he has no doubt you will, you know he’ll be putty in your talented hands. He could just say no, walk away and that’s the end of it. He opens his mouth to say those little words, but what comes out is so fucked up, he can’t believe his brain actually allowed it. 

“You’re on. May the best man win.” Bucky says confidently, already hating his life. 

“I’m sure you will.” You purr, rising up on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek and opening the door to the armory. 

How the fuck did he end up walking you here? The silver table in the middle is empty, so very empty. He knows where the camera switches are, he could easily disable them and show you once and for all just how dangerous it is for you two to be together, just like he tried showing you that first day in the very same room. 

But it’s like you have no sense of fear or self- preservation. He’s not sure if he loves that about you, or if it terrifies him. He watches you walk into the room and you slide up onto the table, lithe and graceful like a cat and god damn it, he has to walk away before he bends you over it again.  

He marches off to find Steve. What the fuck was he thinking? Inviting you here? He could just punch him in his perfect stupid face.  

“Rogers!” He shouts, spotting his friend up ahead. 

“Shit.” He hears Steve mutter, but the big blond knows he’s been caught. “Hey, buddy.” Steve smiles widely. 

“Why her?” Bucky demands. 

“Because next to you, she’s the best. And I need the best for this.” Steve says calmly. “You’re both adults, you can get along.”  

“You don’t understand-“ 

“Buck, it’s done. I’m sorry but I can’t back down on this. You’re just gonna have to deal with it. Now, I have to go see Natasha. Go play nice.” Steve turns Bucky around and pushes him back to the armory.  

“Jerk,” Bucky mutters. 

“I heard that, punk,” Steve calls over his shoulder.  

Bucky grumbles under his breath and heads back to the armory, his stomach churning into nervous knots. He hates that you make him feel this way and he hates how much he still likes you.  

He enters the armory to see you sitting on the table. You’re leaning back, swinging your shapely legs, eyes closed like you’re soaking up rays at the beach. 

“I miss your cologne.” You sigh as he enters.  

He grabs a duffle bag, loading his ammo of choice. He’s determined to ignore you, to keep his head on straight. He hears you slide off the table, the creaking bringing back memories and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

You step up behind him, your slender arms wrapping around his waist and shit, if you don’t fit perfectly. You seem to mold to him from any angle and he shouldn’t like that as much as he does. 

“Stop.” He huffs, grabbing your wrists. 

“I miss you.” You hum against his back, your fingers curling into his shirt.  

“Y/N,”  

“No one can ever treat me the way you do. They don’t even come close.” You moan, burying your face in his shoulder. Your nails dig into his skin and god help him, he loves the sting of it.  He shakes his head, pulling your hands away from his body. 

“Where’s your rifle?” He snaps, moving away. He can feel the scratches you’ve left under his shirt. 

“The cabinet is locked.” You pout. He sighs and pulls out his keys, unlocking the rifle cabinet. You hover behind him, a grin spreading wide across your beautiful face. "Oh, look at these sweet babies!” You gasp, pushing past him and pulling out his rifle. He takes it from your hands, a scowl crossing his face. 

This is the problem with you, no sense of propriety. “Can you please stop talking about assault rifles like they’re puppies?" 

“How many can I have?” You beg, turning to him and grabbing his shirt. 

“You can only use one at a time, babe.” He says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. You don’t even argue and he knows he’s gonna regret that. 

“I think I’ll go with the ArmaLite AR-50.” You say, lifting the massive thing out of its holding bracket. 

“Are you kidding? That thing’s a cannon! Look at the fluted end.” Bucky scoffs. 

“That end minimizes the recoil.” You say pointedly, but setting it back in its brackets. “You’re thinking too much about stealth. This mission isn’t about stealth, it’s about defending a city.” 

“That’s a fair point. Well, what about the Barrett Model 98B?” 

“The Bravo? Yeah, I like that one.” You lift it up and brace it against your shoulder. “Yeah, I like the way this one fits.” You say with a look at him. 

“Don’t go there.” He turns his back on you, just as difficult this time as it was when he said goodbye to you the first time.  

“Why?” You snap and he turns around. “I don’t get it, Bucky. I let you go before, thinking you’d get over your little tantrum and come back to me. You know it’s the right thing. But it’s been months. You can’t tell me you don’t miss me. No one can understand like me. Even Steve can’t.” 

Bucky clenches his jaw, working the muscles there as he struggles to maintain some sort of semblance of control. He can feel it disintegrating as you speak. He knows you’re right, fuck, he knows it. It sits heavy in his chest, prickling at his nerves. And he can’t deny it anymore. It was easy to pretend he didn’t care, that he was mad at you while you weren’t here in front of him.  

Fuck it. 

He sets his rifle down at moves to the door. He hears you sigh loudly as he locks the door, disabling the cameras at the same time. He turns back to you and you’re right in front of him. 

“Coward. You can’t even admit the truth to yourself!” You shove him back a step. Something inside him snaps, as it always does when you fight him. He shoves you back against the cage and, not giving you a chance to recover, kisses you. His lips are harsh and hungry against yours as he grabs your arms, keeping you in place. He growls low in his chest as you kiss him back fiercely.  

You tug against his shirt, pull it off over his head, breaking the kiss for a split second. More clothes are discarded, your hands pull at his hair and he grips your thighs, lifting you up easily. You wrap your legs around his hips as he sets you on the table, kissing down your neck. One of your hands is braced against the cold table and the other is knotted in his hair.  

You breathe heavily in his ear and the sound drives him crazy. He was stupid to think he could just walk away from you. He pulls you off the table and spins you around. Your hands brace against the table, your bare ass pushing back against him.  

“Such a tease.” He snarls, pushing on the back of your neck and bending you over the metal table. He gently kicks your feet apart and lines his throbbing cock up with your slit. You bend your arm behind your back, grasping for his hand.  He laces his fingers with yours and slams home. The table creaks loudly and you moan, arching back off the table. Damn it, you’re still so tight and fit perfectly around him. He holds still for a moment, adjusting to your grip and giving you a chance to adjust. You squeeze his hand, ready to keep going. He pulls his hips back and snaps forward, bottoming out. 

You groan, resting your cheek on the table. He picks up speed, thrusting faster and faster. Your tight, silken walls spasm around him and he groans. 

Fuck, you feel so good. A perfect fit.  

“Harder.” You gasp, squeezing his hand hard.  

Just like him, you like the pain, need it even.  

He leans forward a little, his other hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back. Your soft moans drive him insane.  

The rest of the time you’re loud and brash and crazy, but here, despite the aggression between you, in this intimate moment-you’re soft and quiet. He could spend the rest of forever trying to figure you out and it still won’t be long enough. He growls quietly, a menacing sound and you clamp down around his cock, your mouth parted, breaths fogging up the metal table. 

“Bucky,” You whisper, your nails digging into the flesh of his hand.  

You’re close, he can feel it as you tremble around him. He switches up his rhythm, hard and deep, fast and hard.  

Your entire body locks into place, muscles tensing as your legs shake, barely supporting you. Your breathing stops and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your cunt walls feel like they’re trying to force his member out, searing pleasure racing up his spine and burning across his chest.  

He slams in, hilting inside you completely, his own orgasm rocking through him. His breathing is heavy as he hovers over you. He guides your arm back around under you and you clutch his hand to your chest.  

After a few minutes, you both come down enough for him to pull out of you.  

“Contest is called off, right?” Bucky asks, scooping up your bra. You laugh, taking it from him. 

“Afraid you’ll lose?” You tease, retrieving your various clothes.  

“Definitely. You’re way more competitive.” Bucky smirks, pulling on his pants. 

“We were designed to be killing machines, sometimes the only way to survive is to make a game out of it.” You lean against his chest and press a kiss to his lips. “That’s something you always had a problem with. You have such a big soul.” You sigh, pulling your shirt on. 

“You have a soul, too, you know.” 

“Agree to disagree.” You shrug, gesturing to the door.  

He grabs his bag and rifle with a huff and unlocks the door. He walks out to the hangar, feeling annoyed at you.  

How can you say you don’t have a soul? He knows you don’t believe that, but after everything you both had been through, you just found it easier to shut out your emotions, even your relationship with him never felt... true. You were just having fun with him. He was crazy about you, and you just toyed with him.  He marches onto the aircraft to find Steve and Natasha chatting at the front. 

“You two work it out?” Steve asks. 

“We’ll be working it out when we're two hundred.” He rolls his eyes. “Are we ready?” 

“Almost. Tony, Rhodey and the others will meet us on site.” Steve says as you and Sam come on board.  

Bucky avoids looking at you, settling into the pilot’s seat. Natasha takes her seat next to him, getting ready. He likes Nat, there’s an easy familiarity between them, both having such strong Russian influences in their lives. 

“Who’s your friend?” She asks quietly.  

Bucky glances over his shoulder at you; you’re watching him with Nat, and you don’t look pleased. “An old friend. We were in Siberia together.” 

“I didn’t think any of the others survived.” 

“She was out of cryo at the time.” Steve approaches them and rests his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. While he and Nat had been talking, a squadron of T’Challa’s warriors had boarded along with the king himself.  

“We’re ready,” Steve says. Bucky and Natasha ready for take-off. 

“Wish we could fit a couple of those rhinos on here,” Natasha says with a smirk and Bucky laughs. 

“Right? Where’s that shrinking guy when you need him?” 

“That would have been genius!” Nat punches him in the arm as they lift into the sky.  

It’s not long to the abandoned city way on the outskirts of Egypt. They park out of the way of the field, Bucky setting down gently.  

“When are you gonna help me find Rogers a girlfriend?” Natasha asks him as they get out of their seats. 

“I don’t think I’m the best one to help with that. People aren’t really my thing anymore.” 

“I dunno, Barnes. You’re still relatively charming.” Natasha winks as she heads for the exit ramp.  

Bucky rolls his eyes, following after her. He slings his rifle bag over his shoulder and is about to step down into the sand when you brush past him roughly. He watches you jog ahead, tilting his head. He catches up to you, knowing he’s going to regret this. 

“You okay? It’s a good thing to be nervous. Or, so they tell me.” He starts and you don’t reply. Not even a chuckle. “Y/N,” he starts, grabbing your arm.  

You shrug him off, not even looking in his direction. “I’m fine, Buck. No nerves here. Just the heartless bitch.” You say coldly, pulling ahead. He slows down, your rejection stings more than he would like to admit. But what he can’t figure out is why you’re acting like that in the first place.  

Steve stops in the center of the old square, tucking away his GPS. “This is the spot.” 

“How do you know?” You ask, falling next to him. 

“Two of our contacts figured it out. They’re good with this stuff.” He says. “I figure you and Bucky take positions on some of these taller buildings, Clint can find wherever he’s comfortable. We’ll take the ground. When Tony shows up, we’ll coordinate with them.”  

“You trust this guy?” You ask and there’s an underlying tone in your voice. Bucky feels like maybe you aren’t really asking about Tony. He still gets a knot in his stomach when Stark is mentioned. 

“As much as I trust Bucky. You two work it out who wants where.” Steve says with a slight nod to his best friend. Bucky glances at the tallest building, already crumbling from the raging winds and sand and heads off for that direction, you knock shoulders with him, heading the same way. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bucky snaps. 

“Heading for my spot.” You snap back, gesturing for his building. 

“That’s my position. Go pick a different one.” He pushes you away.  

You stiffen and punch him in the arm. “That’s a better spot for me. You go find a different one.” You demand.  

“Bucky.” Natasha comes in over the earpieces. “Look to your right.” She says and you glare at the redhead across the plaza. 

“Why?” You grumble, but Bucky looks and grins. 

“Oh, good eye, Romanoff.” He says, moving behind you and off towards a better position for him. “You’re right, Y/N, that one has you written all over it.” He calls, heading for the new perch. His last sight is of you crossing your arms and scowling. He breaks down the door and makes his way up the tilting, winding staircases, his mind wandering to you. You seem to be extra difficult since take off. When he left you in the armory, you were still smiling and joking, but now you’re in a mood.  

He doesn’t ever know what to expect from you. 

He gets his rifle set up and swivels his scope over to where you are and checks you over. You seem to have gotten settled just fine. He flashes his scope and you reply. You’re good to go and his chest loosens slightly.  

“Stark’s here,” Steve says over the comms and Bucky is glad he’s already in the shadows.  

“Good. Because it’s starting.” Nat replies.  

Bucky aims his rifle towards the sky and the brilliant blue turns to a dark, angry purple. Lightning streaks across the sky, thunder clouds rumble, and the sky splits open, revealing a whole new sky, purple clouds, bright stars, and thousands of spaceships.  

Bucky’s stomach plummets and he looks over at you. A manic grin crosses your face and you look back at him. 

-.. --- -. -     ..-. --- .-. --. . -     -... . -

You flash your scope at him and he rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the damn bet.” He mutters.  

“Holy shit.” 

“Parker! Watch your mouth, don’t make me tell May.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” There’s a moment of stillness as if the entire desert is holding its breath. The wind doesn’t blow, the sand doesn’t rattle against broken glass. The spaceships hover in the air for a count of thirty, Bucky counts them in his breaths. Then chaos breaks loose and Bucky doesn’t even have a moment to think. He burns through an entire box of ammo in ten minutes. You’re counting in his ear, racking up numbers, laughing so loud he can hear you across the square over the immense noise.  

All of Bucky’s friends, and maybe some not friends, are taking on their own battles. There’s plenty of enemies to spare and more coming with every second.  

He’s in the middle of dumping out a new box when he realizes he can’t remember when he heard your laugh last. What number had you been on? When did you stop counting out loud? He aims his scope over towards your post but he can’t see you. Your rifle is gone from the window and his heart slams to a stop in his chest. 

“Y/N?” He calls on the comms. He gives you a few seconds to reply, loading his rifle again. “Y/N, sound off.” He orders, sweeping his scope over his teammates. He takes out a few stragglers, hating that he’s actually keeping a mental record. Still no answer.  

He scans over your window again and sees you throw yourself out of the window, down the six stories to the sand and cobblestone below. His heart tumbles as the sparks of a pre-explosion catch his eye in the window above you. The actual explosion decimates the building and rubble falls down around everyone. 

“Did you need something, Barnes?” You ask with a smirk up towards him. He rolls his eyes and continues firing. 

“This isn’t gonna work. They’re just gonna keep coming unless we find a way to take them all out at once.” Tony says. 

“Anyone have a nuke handy?” Steve asks sarcastically. 

“Very funny,” Tony mutters.  

There’s no more conversation for a minute and then Bucky hears footsteps behind him. He turns, pistol already pulled out and aimed at Natasha. 

“Jesus, Nat.” He sighs, tucking it back in his holster. 

“I have an idea.” She says, coming over to him. 

“Oh yeah? On a scale of one to Australia, how dangerous are we talking?" He asks and she grins. 

“Well, you won’t like it, but your girlfriend might.” She gestures out the window and Bucky looks down to see you staring up at them, your face eerily calm.  

“Alright, let’s regroup with the others. Tell them your crazy plan.” He sighs, packing up his rifle. 

“So, she is your girlfriend?” Nat presses. 

“Not anymore. Let it go, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Bucky says, following her down. 

“You broke up with her, right?” She guesses. Bucky slings an arm around her shoulders. 

“Don’t worry about my relationship with Y/N and I’ll get everyone off your back about Banner.” He says quietly and she elbows him in the ribs. 

“Fine.”  

You, along with everyone else able to, gather in the square. “Okay, we’re here. What’s your big idea?” You snap, crossing your arms.  

“They all seem to be centered around that big blue ship. I bet if you take that one out, the rest will fall, like bees or ants.” 

“Didn’t realize you avidly studied bees.” You mutter and Bucky gives you a warning look. 

“Makes sense,” Steve mutters. “As much as anything else, I suppose. Who goes in?” 

“Me and Y/N,” Bucky says with a shrug.  

You snap your head over to look at him, your scowl getting bigger.  

“Why you two?” Tony asks accusingly. 

“It’s the most logical. We can do it easily. In and out, no big deal.” He shrugs again. 

“Fine. Go. How do you plan on getting up there?”  

“Leave that to us. You just keep them contained.” Bucky says, turning away. He can feel Nat’s eyes on him.  

“You know that’s a one-way trip.” She says quietly to him. 

“Yeah but maybe not for both of us.” He mutters, glancing back at you over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna be pissed if you don’t come back. Who else is gonna play pranks on Sam with me?” She says quietly.  

He chuckles. “That last one was pretty good, wasn’t it?” 

“Any idea how you’re gonna get up there?” She asks. One of the hover crafts they use zooms by and Bucky suddenly has an idea. 

“Steve!” He calls, jogging over and grabbing your wrist along the way. “We’re gonna need a lift.” He says, nodding his head upward. Steve studies it for a minute before readying his shield. 

“You sure about this?” He asks. 

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” Bucky lies. It’s not going to be fun, but it will be worth it to keep you at least somewhat safe. 

“You got it.” Steve shrugs and hefts his shield.  

Bucky doesn’t give you a choice, he pulls you onto his back and you tangle yourself around him with a huff in his ear. 

“Worst idea you’ve ever had.” You whisper, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Really? I thought you’d like it.” He grins, taking off at a run at Steve, leaping onto the shield at the same time that Steve pushes up. You cling right around his neck as he catches onto the bottom of a hovercraft. He grits his teeth as it pulls on his metal arm, the joint straining as he holds both your weights. He finds handholds and works his way back towards the end of the craft. 

“You good?” He calls over the roaring wind. 

“Good. Go faster.” You reply, gripping the front of his shirt. 

“Go faster.” He grumbles. “You carry two super soldiers on a flying car as it weaves around.” 

“I heard that.” You dig your nails in and he hisses. He hauls you both up onto the back and you climb over him, your boots digging into his back, his shoulders, his face. 

“Oh, I hate you.” He groans, heaving himself up and over.  

You’ve already kicked one off and you’re in the middle of fighting off the other one. You drag it away from the steering system and Bucky lets you handle it, slipping in front of the joysticks.  

“I thought I was driving!” You shout, ducking a swinging limb. 

“I’m a better driver!” He shouts back. 

“That’s a bald-faced lie!”  

“Remember Germany? ‘77! You drove us into a lake!” 

“I took a wrong turn!” You kick it over the edge and move next to him. 

“I distinctly remember you laughing!” He looks at you and you grin with a shrug. 

“It was fun.”  

He steers towards the big spaceship, flying low, hoping to avoid any kind of radar. He glides through a small opening and landing quickly off to the side. You leap over the side, not making any effort to hide or go unnoticed. 

“What way?” You ask, glancing at him. Your tone is cold. You’ve never spoken to him like that. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your arm.  

You jerk it roughly out of his grasp, turning away from him. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself.” You snap. 

“Y/N, did I do something?” 

“No, you were predictably perfectly you.” You mutter, pulling out a small baton and flicking it down and out to the side. Silver metal plates link together to form a sleek, dangerous-looking Katana, your favorite weapon. It had been a gift from your previous Hydra handler, and as far as Bucky knows, you were the only Soldat to receive a gift, ever.  

“I don’t understand.” He says finally. He’s leading you down a series of tunnels, looking for something to tell him the way.  A door opens behind you and you shove your way inside, slamming behind you. Bucky tried to open the door, but it’s solidly locked, even his metal arm isn’t getting through. How can you be so reckless? He should be in there, having your back. That’s the whole point of being here together. Screeching noises and thuds of things hitting the walls are muffled as they come through the door and he has mental images of you slumped against the wall, one of the creatures towering over you, about to finish you off. The door hisses open and you step out, your katana and face covered in speckles of blood, guts, and gore. 

“What the fuck, Y/N? You can be so reckless.” 

You shove him back, your blade nicking his arm. “I don’t need your protection. I certainly didn’t ask for it. Just mind your own fucking business, Barnes. Stay out of my life!” You shout, taking off down the hallway.  

His heart crumples in his chest, feeling hollow like a useless tin can, but he follows you nonetheless, doing everything he can to keep you safe as you grow more and more reckless.  

You’re leading them further into the labyrinth, not heading for anything obviously useful. His stomach turns into knots, making him sick with each slice of your wicked blade. 

“Y/N, stop, we have to find a way to destroy the ship.” He says finally, trying to get you to listen.  

You’re beyond listening, your face a mask of rage and hatred. You clear out a room and Bucky glances inside, seeing something he can use to start a chain reaction. He darts inside and starts to quickly assemble a homemade bomb, quick and dirty. He can hear you outside, getting further down the hall and he knows he has to hurry. His heart is hammering in his chest as he messes up and has to start over. 

Finally, it’s done and he rushes out to find you. He just follows the trail of bodies to find you surrounded by at least seven of the towering beasts. Even at your best, you can’t handle that many at once.  

Without even thinking, he charges in, shooting the ones that he can. You cry out and he’s momentarily distracted, turning towards you to see you drop to one knee for just a moment.  

“Y/N!” He shouts, and then there’s a moment.  

Your eyes are on him and they widen slightly. He can’t hear any sounds at all, it’s like the volume has been turned off on the world. He’s sluggish, body reacting too slowly as he turns in front of him. A creature is there, a massive blade at the end of its arm. He can feel his body jolt on impact but there’s no pain.  

He doesn’t understand. There should be pain. His eyes slide slowly down the creature’s face, torso, to its arm embedded in his body. His feet aren’t even touching the floor, dangling in the air.  

He looks back up at it and suddenly, its head is gone. It crashes to its knees, jarring Bucky as his feet touch, but he still doesn’t feel any pain. And he can’t figure out what happened to its head. Then you’re there, tears streaming down your face as you cradle his head. 

“Bucky,”  

He can hear your voice again and he thinks it’s perfect this way. The one person he loves more than anything should be the last person he sees before he dies. The way it’s supposed to be. 

“I’m so sorry.” You gasp and he tries to take your hand but he’s holding something. 

The bomb. 

“Engines.” He mumbles, trying to hand it to you. 

“Bucky, please don’t leave me.” You cry and he smiles slightly. 

“I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His eyes flutter closed, but he wants to keep them open, to see your face until the very last second. “The engines. You need... to stop it... the assault...” he forces out, his breathing is shallow now. 

“I can’t leave you.” You plead and he struggles to find your hand.  

“For me? A last request.” He manages a weak chuckle.  

“You’re not dying. You can’t die.” You demand. 

“We’ll discuss your terms after...” he trails off. “After all, you win the bet.” 

“After.” You repeat, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. Don’t you dare die on me or I’ll kill you myself.” 

His heart swells painfully in his chest. “You love me?” He repeats slowly. He’s waited for years for you to admit that.  

“You better still be alive when I get back.” You warn and he can’t help the smile on his face. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He says tiredly. He’s so tired. He feels the pressure of your hand on his, a squeeze and then you’re gone.

 *** 

Your heart is breaking slowly in your chest, like someone tearing strips of paper just to listen to the riiiip. You had been so stupid, so careless, just wanting to die at seeing Bucky, your Bucky, flirting with that red-headed tramp. Then he has the nerve to bring you up here on this suicide mission and you could just throttle him.  

You were pissed and hurt and looking for any reason to get away from him, maybe get a little injured so he would be worried about you instead. But your half-baked idea backfired big time and now Bucky is dying.  

Dying. 

And it’s all your fault. A sob racks through your chest as you find the engine room. You take out the creature in the back easily and set up the bomb. Damn, he’s good. He left a port to attach it to as many charges as you can find or make. You rush around, grabbing things you would need, rigging up extra explosives to all the engine blocks.  

Finally done, you run back over to the original one and look at how to set it up. Thankfully, he had installed a timer.  

Unfortunately, he had set it for five minutes.  

It had taken you ten just to get here. 

“Oh, I could just kill you for getting hurt.” You mutter. You have no choice but to set the timer. Before the first second even ticks off, you’re bolting back to the hallway where you left Bucky. Your muscles are burning as you push them faster than you’ve ever had to before.  

You might be super, but it’s still painful. You round the corner and see Bucky still there and you sigh with relief. You slid next to him and take his hand. 

“Bucky?” You gasp. Your chest is painfully tight as you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t answer you and you freeze. None of your training prepared you for this. You weren’t ever designed to feel this way. You tentatively reach and hand out, checking for a pulse. Your hand is trembling and you force yourself to stay calm. Panicking won’t do him any good.  

You feel a pulse, it’s weak, but it’s there. You only have a minute to get him away.  

“Bucky? Can you help at all?” You ask, standing back up and tugging on his arm.  He doesn’t respond and your heart sinks. You’re never gonna make it. It’s too far, he’s too heavy, you’re too tired.  

You could just stay here with him, let this be the end. He’s almost there, you know you can’t do this in this world without him. Just let there be peace for you two at last.  

But what about Steve? His best friend that went through hell and back several times to save Bucky? Could you really do that to Steve? Bucky’s still alive, and so are you. So you’re going to live. You heave on his arm and support his as best you can. 

Shit, he weighs a ton. It never feels like this much when he’s on top of you. You’ve nearly made it back to your stolen ship when you feel something sharp in your side. You stumble, losing your grip on him as pain blooms up your side. You look down to see a slit. It matches Bucky’s but smaller. You glance behind you as your knees give out just in time. A blade whistles over your head as a creature stands over you.  

You don’t have time for this. You pull out your handgun and shoot, aiming for what looks like the face. It goes down and doesn’t move. With a groan you get back to your feet, pulling Bucky with you. Just a little further. A little longer and Steve can save him.  

Steve always saves him.  

You shove Bucky over the side of the stolen craft, letting him sprawl on the floor. You can feel the explosions vibrating through the ship, ripping metal apart.  

You pull yourself up and struggle to turn the hover around. How had he made this look so easy? You bump into another craft, a wall, some columns, and a dozen creatures before making your way out of the exit. You don’t have time to think, you’re running on pure adrenaline. You know as soon as you stop, you’re gonna crash. The analytical side of your brain knows you’re losing too much blood, but your body just keeps pumping it.  

The shockwaves from the explosions shake your hover as you rocket back to the desert, the rip in space closing fast.  

Looks like the redhead was right, this was the mother ship. It doesn’t make you like her any more.  

You try not to crash the craft, but it’s like steering a refrigerator. One explosion of sand later, you’re flying through the air, tumbling into the earth.  

“Son of a bitch.” You hear Steve mutter, heading for you. You can’t see him with all the sand in your eyes, but you point in the direction you think the craft is in. 

“Get Bucky.” You say, knowing he’ll hear you. You carefully brush the sand out of your eyes and eyelashes, before trudging yourself to your feet.  

“What happened to him?” Steve snaps as he and a guy with wings struggle to lift him out. 

“It’s my fault, I went ahead, he tried to save me.” You stammer. You know Steve deserves the full story, but you’re so tired. 

“He didn’t want you here,” Steve mutters as they carry him onto the ship. The redhead is there, helping. “I should have listened to him. I should never have forced him to work with you.” He says harshly, pushing you out of the way of the platform.  

His words are like a knife in your chest. You know he’s right, Bucky hadn’t wanted you around, but you were so selfish and so one-track-minded that you didn’t care about what he wanted.  

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You say quietly.  

“You’re damn right you are.” He snaps. “Nat, take us home.” He says to the redhead. The platform door closes in front of your face and someone pulls you back gently out of the way as it takes off.  

“He will forgive, as soon as Barnes is okay.” A man says in your ear. His accent is African, the King of Wakanda. 

“Maybe I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” You mumble. “He should save it for someone with a soul.” You traipse back through the sand to retrieve Bucky’s rifle, ducking inside the building he had used for cover.  

If you close your eyes and pretend really hard, you can almost catch whiffs of his cologne. You know it’s not real, you know it’s all in your head, but it makes you feel better.  

Just like it had on those nights when Hydra fought so hard to break you. When you could hear his screams five floors down and couldn’t do a thing to help. Just like when you’d see him after a mission and he wouldn’t recognize you, the Soldat firmly back in place. You sink against the wall, sliding to the floor as tears slide down your face. You close your eyes, pressing his rifle against your face.  

Soldat, your Bucky, the man who got you through sixty years of a never-ending nightmare, and this is all you’ll ever have left of him. And so you cry. You cry in the privacy of the abandoned building. No one comes looking for you, you’re not even sure they saw where you went. Your heart shatters like broken glass as you realize Steve won’t ever trust you now, won’t ever let you near them.  

You’d be better off just letting it end here. Bucky knows how you feel, that’s enough. You need to let him move on with someone who isn’t crazy.  As long as it isn’t the redhead. 

Anyone but her. 

Your legs slide out and you can feel your pulse slow as your adrenaline runs out of gas. You close your eyes, finally able to see peace at the end of a very dark, very long tunnel. 

Okoye 

“How long are we going to let her mope?” She asks T’Challa. 

“She just needs some privacy.” He pulls another alien carcass to the pyre. 

“She’s been in there for twenty minutes, while we work!” 

“Some emotions take longer to work through, especially if they are unfamiliar.” He raises an eyebrow. “While we work? Okoye.” He tsks.  

“I am keeping my King safe.” Okoye grins.  

“If you are so worried, go get her,” T’Challa says, waving her away.  

Okoye scoffs and heads over to the building. She knocks respectfully as she pokes her head in, but you don’t look up.  

In fact, you don’t even move. Okoye’s pulse stutters as she realizes something is very wrong. She nudges you with her foot and that’s when she notices all the blood pooling under you. She curses silently to herself. 

“My King!” She shouts, kneeling down and checking for your pulse. It’s so weak she can barely feel it. T’Challa runs over, his brown eyes going wide. 

“She’s not-“ 

“Not yet, but soon.” 

“We need to get her back to Wakanda.” He says. 

“I’ll take her,” Stark says. How he appeared behind them unnoticed will forever remain a mystery to Okoye. 

“You can carry her?” Okoye asks doubtfully. 

“Should be no problem.” He scoops you up, Bucky’s rifle slipping out of your fingers.  

“Just a moment,” T’Challa says, removing two beads from his bracelet and pressing them into your wounds. “That will stabilize her for the flight.”  

Tony backs out of the doorway and takes off into the sky. Okoye looks at her king with a frown. “Why wouldn’t she say something?” She asks. 

“Maybe she didn’t know?” He shrugs and walks back to continue cleaning up. 

Bucky 

He slowly becomes aware of noises around him before his eyes open. He doesn’t want to open them at all. He was having the best dream he’s ever had and who would want to wake up from that? You had been over him, your hands so soft and gentle on his face. He was prepared to say goodbye, to let you move on as he floated somewhere, but then you told him you loved him and he didn’t want to leave.  

He wanted to stay in this dream forever, here with you.  

“Are you gonna tell him?” He hears hushed whispers somewhere far away. 

 “Are you kidding? He’d kill me. It would break him.” Comes the reply. It takes him a long time to realize that he knows those voices. 

Sam has spoken first, then Steve. 

“He loved her and now she’s... she’s just gone. How am I gonna break that news to him?” Steve says. 

Gone?  

Are they talking about you? Steve’s tone sounds so final. 

No. 

No!  

You can’t be dead.  

His chest hurts. He can’t breathe. His eyes fly open as he grabs his chest, feeling like his muscles are seizing up. 

Heart attack. 

Good, if you’re dead he doesn’t want to be here anymore. It was supposed to be him that didn’t survive, not you. You deserved a chance. 

“Shit, he’s awake.” Steve curses and there’s a commotion. “Bucky! Breathe.” 

He gasps in air, but his chest feels like it’s caving in. Steve grasps his hand, squeezing it just like you had, but for a different reason. 

“Buck, come on, man.”  

“Y/N-“ Bucky chokes. 

“She left, she’s gone,” Steve says. 

“Alive?” 

“Very much so.” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t want you to find out like this.” 

Bucky feels his chest ease, but only slightly. He still needs to see you, to feel you in his arms. He finally looks around him, realizing he’s in a hospital wing. “How did I get here?” He closes his eyes, the memories flooding back. “She did it. She set off the bomb.” 

“Yeah. She did it, and got you both home.” Steve grumbles. 

“Where is she? I wanna see her” 

“She left, two days ago. As soon as she found out you were gonna be okay, and after she healed.” 

“Healed? She was injured?” Bucky sits up straight, ignoring the dull throb in his midsection.  

“Easy, she’s fine now.” 

“Steve, please? You told me to work it out. I have.” 

Steve is silent for a few minutes, eyes closed, head hanging while he did some deep breathing. “Okay, where would she go?” 

“How long before we can leave?” 

“You need at least two days before you can get the all-clear. I won’t allow less than that. You were nearly cut in half.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I fell down a mountain. I’m pretty sure we can survive anything.” 

Sam gives a low chuckle. “I see why you two are friends now. I get it.” He grins. “Makes perfect sense.” 

“Anything I can get you in the meantime?” 

“Morse transmitter. An old one.” Bucky says instantly. He has a sickening feeling as to where you’d go and he wants to get you out of there as quick as possible.  

It takes Steve forever to find the transmitter and even longer for Bucky to set it up. “Where did you find this dinosaur?” Bucky asks, climbing carefully out of bed despite Steve’s protests. 

“I’m not telling. You’ll just laugh at me. Just do what you have to do. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.” Steve leaves him to it, giving him privacy. He finds the right dial, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Y/N, I know you’re there.” He taps out. He gives it a moment for you to reply, but he gets nothing but silence back. “Come on, answer me.” He grumbles, rubbing his forehead.  

“Fine. Don’t answer. You won’t like the consequences.” He sends, pushing the machine away. His heart is sinking but he knows he can find you. 

*** 

“Shit. It’s fucking cold.” Steve’s teeth are chattering. 

“You get used to it,” Bucky says darkly. He jumps down from the snow tank, his landing making little puffs of snow.  

“You’re sure she’s here? She never answered.” Steve says. His nose and cheeks are red from the bitter cold, but to Bucky, it’s painfully familiar.  

The way the wind bites into his skin, the cold leeches the heat from his joints and his metal arm aches where steel meets flesh. But the cold fresh air feels good, giving him some clarity. He’s been worried sick about you, about what he’d find when he finally makes it home to Siberia. Would you have healed from your injury? Or did you bleed out on the cold abandoned floors of your nightmare?  

He forces himself to be smart, you would have booby-trapped the place to ensure you remained alone. He eases the heavy metal door open, catching the tripwire you have just inside. He disables it and moves on. Steve smartly stays behind him, letting the person who knows you best deal with it.  

Twenty minutes later, he’s disabled at least fifteen intricately designed traps and saved Steve at least twice. 

“Where are we going?” Steve whispers and it sounds so loud in the silence. 

“Officer’s quarters. Always the nicest. No speaking from here on out. And watch where you put your feet.”  

Moving forward is slow when he has to stop and disable traps every five feet. Finally, he disables the last one outside the biggest room. He can hear water running inside, you’re in the private showers. He vividly remembers the man who lived here. He always paid special attention to you and even back then it would make Bucky sick to see anyone touching you that way. And the fact that you chose this room over all the others pisses him off.  

He motions for Steve to stay outside as he picks the lock. He moves silently across the room, he can see the steam billowing from under the door. He eases the door open, the heat washes over him, filled with your scent and his blood boils.  

You have your back to him, clearly, you haven’t gotten in yet. Your pants are still on, you’ve pulled off your shirt and are examining your wound. The scar is ugly, jagged and red.  

“Ow, fuck.” You hiss as he props his shoulder against the door frame. He watches you for a minute, relieved that you’re alive and okay. But then he’s pissed that you left. 

“I’m hurt that you didn’t even wait for me to wake up before you left.” He says and you visibly jump, falling into the sink as you whirl around, covering your bare chest.  

“Bucky!” You shout, slamming your hands down against your thighs. 

“Really offended.” He repeats, his eyes trailing over you. “Especially now that I know you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, well. Your best friend made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome.” You shrug, rubbing your arm. 

“He was just pissed. He’s over that now. Come here.” He holds out his hand for you. You, however, don’t step closer. 

“He was right, Bucky. I’ve messed up everything for you. I almost got you killed. He was right to be mad.” You say quietly. “I bet he wasn’t even very happy that you came here to get me. Or did you sneak out?” 

“He’s outside, actually. Now, get over here.” He demands, pushing himself off the frame.  

“Bucky,” You sigh.  

He grabs your wrist and pulls you gently against him. “So, while we were on the spaceship, I told you I loved you. And I think I fell asleep because in my dream you said it back and I just have to ask,” 

“I love you, you beautiful idiot. Shut up and kiss me.” You grumble and he grins, his heart feeling lighter than it has in 75 years.  

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, kissing you deeply. He will never get over the feel of your lips on his. He knows now he was stupid to ever think he could just walk away from you.  

He will never make that mistake again. 

“Marry me.” He whispers, breaking away and pressing his forehead against yours.  

“You’re crazy.” 

“No. You were right. We make sense, we’re perfect together, meant to be. I won’t lose you again. I love you, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. Marry me.” 

“Finally.” You kiss him back and he grins against your mouth. 

“Is it safe to come in?” Steve calls from the hallway and Bucky laughs. 

“Yeah. You’re good, Steve.” He pokes his head in the door and smiles tentatively. 

“Hi, Y/N.” He says. 

“Hey, Steve.” 

“So, what’s the word? Staying here? Going home?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. Bucky looks down at you and you smile back up at him. 

“Let’s go home.” You say softly. 

Tags:@everythingisoverrated​ @dsakita​ @shreddedparchment​ @bitsandbobsandstuff​ @after-avenging-hours​ @alexblrus​ @thinkingsofamadwoman​ @i-dont-want-to-be-called​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @fortheloveofallthatsholy​ @crazychaotic​ @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety​ @redstarstan​ @septic-boye​ @justreadingfics​ @themistsofmyavalon​ @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​ @wkemeup​ @thiccbinch​ @glide-thru​ @moli1497​ @ellaenchanted91​ @part-time-patronus​ @janeyboo​ @jensensjaredsandmishaslover​ @thirstybitchqueen​ @xxloki81xx​ @uncledaddykelbo

#marvel #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x reader #romance #mermaidxatxheart #crazyinlove #one shot #reader insert

[extraordinarilyirrelevant]

Back again with my bullshit!

Like I don’t even know what to say for this crack-iest of crackfics. It started out with me wondering how Kakuzu would be as a kid and wondering if he’d still be as obsessed with money as he is in canon, me thinking up that whole scene of Kid kuzu explaining how tax works to Hidan and then evolved into:

‘Kid kuzu would totally still be the adult with the man child Hidan’ and then BAM, this happened

That’s why you’ll notice the first part I refer to Kakuzu as his name and not Kid kuzu as I do sometime in the middle, it started out as a draft, me just putting my thoughts to paper and then crafting a story behind it. I mean I could quickly change it but shut up

That’s ALSO why it’s never stated that Hidan wants to get closer to Kakuzu until like the kid kuzu section, but what can you do? (see shrugging gif above)

Summary: through reasons not explored, Kakuzu somehow turns into a kid. Pain gives them time off until they fix things Hidan’s left to look after him

----

Hidan was scrutinizing the map pain given him with intense focus. Apparently, there was a empty house of one of Akatsuki’s suppliers that was willing to let the two use his estate that he only used on business trips outside his nation, located in Iwagakure they had quite the walk to get there from amegakure

The two would be station there until Kakuzu’s underlings got information on how to reverse this jutsu and turn the miser back to normal

The miser in question, was… well not himself. Even looking at the kid was weird, the taki missing nin was no longer his opposing and menacing self. He barely reached Hidan’s stomach and had short hair with plain old clothes, and don’t get Hidan started on those eyes-

“Woah!” Hidan yelped in surprised as he nearly tripped over exposed root sticking out of the ground. He only managed to save face thanks to small hands grabbing his cloak 

“Every good ninja is aware of their surroundings” Kakuzu stated as a matter of fact, sounding quite unimpressed by Hidan’s slip up “What? Can’t multitask?” Kakuzu asked in a slightly mocking tone

“This fucking map!” Hidan snapped, stopping his urge to rip the damn thing in half “It’s fucking confusing as all hell, I can’t tell where the fuck we are or where we’re suppose to go!” He ruffled his silver hair in frustration when Kakuzu wordless snatched the thing away from him

“And that blasted leader wasn’t any help at all” Hidan grumbled in a foul mood “Go where the trees form a natural path” He mocked the instructions given to him “Fucking atheist should’ve at least pointed me in the right direction, I swear to Jashin I’ll curse him one day”

Hidan haltered in his step when Kakuzu suddenly changed directions

“The hell are you going?”

“The right way” He answered simply as he jumped up into the trees

“Oi! Wait up!” Hidan called out as he jumped in after him, and was forced to follow after the boy as he didn’t relent or stray from their new path

----

Hidan panted as he looked down at the house they’d be staying in, It was rather large and spacious, tradition down to the secluded pond with a Rock Waterfall, with bonsai tree on either end of the yard

Kakuzu was the first to hop into the yard, landing near the stone path leading into the house. Hidan followed suit and continued looking around, catching a enclosed enclave situated between the house’s structure. It was a damn nice place

Entering, it was traditional as tradition got with Tatami mats covering the expansion of the floor save for the wooden entrance where one was meant to take off one’s shoes. Kakuzu proceeded in, respectfully taking his shoes off and getting acquainted with their new living space for the time being; only briefly considering ransacking the place of it’s goods and pawning them off to get more money, before he reminded himself that he frequented business with this man and that it’s be unwise to tarnish that relation

Hidan stormed past him in excitement, Kakuzu noticing with distaste that the zealot didn’t bother showing the proper pleasantries of taking his shoes off. Sighing before opening a room up to find a single lone table accompanied by cushions adorning the floor, eating place he noted before closing the sliding doors

Walking down the hallway further, Kakuzu wanted to find the washroom to shower before heading to bed, it was a long journey to Iwagakure and the duo travelled nonstop for two days just to get here

At least this house was relatively secluded from any town or village, less people aware of their stay the better

“Kakuzu!” Hidan called out for him, making his way over to where the voice came from, he found Hidan in the bedroom “Look at that bed! It’s like fucking royalty!” He exclaimed as he jumped onto the big cushion-y bed. Nearly being devoured by it when he sank in before he sprung back up to land just before Kakuzu

“And their bathroom isn’t to shabby either” Hidan smirked that smirk that always managed to piss Kakuzu off “Want to take a bath together?”

Kakuzu blanked at that

“Hidan?”

“Yeah?”

“Say something that disgusting again, and I’ll drown you in the pond to feed the koi fish” Kakuzu threatened seriously to which Hidan only snickered “Fucking relax heathen, didn’t you bath with your parent growing up? I mean you’re a kid now. I won’t exactly be looking forward to seeing anything down there”

Although Hidan had a valid point, it still irked Kakuzu making his blood boil “I can manage on my own. Just go to bed, you can shower tomorrow morning”

“Oi!” Hidan yelled catching his attention “You’re the brat now got it, whatever I say goes!”

“That logic is as deluded as you” Kakuzu mused as he entered the bathroom and locked the door, ignoring the shouts of protest outside, opting to take his clothes off and start his shower

----

----

“I thought everyone knew people with higher taxable incomes are subject to higher tax rates, and people with lower taxable incomes are subject to lower tax rates?” Kid kuzu seemed legitimately confused that this wasn’t common knowledge “Your tax bracket is based on “taxable income”, which is your gross income from all sources, minus any tax deductions you may qualify for” He explained while going through the finance sheets with minimum difficulties, only occasionally pulling out a calculator to punch some numbers in before scribbling down some more numbers

Kid kuzu sighed “A tax deduction is a dollar amount you can subtract from your taxable income. The lower your taxable income, the lower your tax bill” the boy explained further when Hidan looked although he were speaking a foreign language “Being an adult I figured you’d have at least the bare minimum knowledge for this sort of thing, but I guess I was expecting too much”

“Listen here you little shit, I denounced material crap the moment I devoted myself to Jashin-sama! Whatever I need, I kill for it” Hidan went to jab his chest only for a small hand to catch the appendage with ease, bending it enough to strain muscles in a wordless threat of breaking the damn thing should Hidan do anything else

“Jashin sounds like the god of poverty” He stated bluntly as he threw Hidans hand back at him and closed his little book before setting it aside and standing up “I find religion to be a waste of time, it certainly doesn’t pay bills. Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going outside” Kakuzu explained as he opened the sliding door leading outside, taking a book with him as he hopped into the gated backyard

“Where are you going?” Hidan asked, peaking his head out to see the little fucker as he made his way to the shade of a tree to sit down and start reading in silence

Hidan growled as he hopped into the backyard too, hands on his hips as silence stretched between the two. Kid kuzu seemingly content to read in silence “What are you doing?” Hidan asked annoyed

“Don’t ask questions with obvious answers” Kakuzu snarked back at him without skipping a beat “But I guess someone as stupid as you never heard of it; it’s called ‘reading’.” All without looking up from his book

“I get that you smartass, but why the hell did you bother coming out here for?” At that Kakuzu looked up at him, his green eyes (alarmingly normal with the absence of red sclerae) before cocking a brow in silent question

“You could’ve easily read inside” Hidan pointed out

“Habit” He answered curtly

“Growing up in Takigakure a epidemic of sorts spread, and my mother was bed ridden. She was the superstitious type and wouldn’t want me near her in fear that she’d infect me with this unknown illness plaguing our village. Sounded like rubbage to me, but she kept pestering me about it” Kakuzu shrugged and let his shoulders sag some as he relaxed against the bark “So whenever I wasn’t keeping up with our financial situation for us, I’d go outside to read” wordlessly gestured to the book

Hidan couldn’t believe he was doing this, but if it meant getting closer to Kakuzu it was worth a shot. Perching in a crouched position to get on the smaller boys level, Hidan sighed as he ran a hand through his silver locks before asking “And how did that… make you feel?” Even to him it sounded awkward as all hell, he almost regrets even asking until Kakuzu simply shrugged

“My mother always kind of annoyed me, she was weak willed and had serious insecurity from father leaving. So she tended to smother me” Kakuzu recalled “Although I worried for her health as many kids would, I found interest in the adult world. Money was fascinating to me, even as a kid. It was the most powerful force the world had”

“What do you mean?”

“With money you could do anything. Money had the power to save or ruin lives. Take my mother for example, because our money was going into paying off our property, we hardly had any left for her. So when she became ill, she couldn’t get the proper medical treatment she required and died because of it. Money and our lack thereof killed her” he answered in a bored tone as he flipped the page

Hidan wasn’t one to care for death, that shit happened. So, he didn’t really know how to approach this. Should he laugh it off and say that’s Jashin’s divine punishment for placing money above god like he always did? Or try sympathizing? Hidan really didn’t know since he easily sees the brat getting annoyed with either one he chose. The silence stretched between the two and Hidan let it since Kakuzu himself seemed content to leave it as that

“The fuck” Hidan mumbled as he finally took note of the book in Kakuzu’s hand and blanked when he read the title ‘how to make a profit’ Hidan scoffed, leave it to kid kuzu to read boring ass shit like that for fun

Snatching the book, Hidan stood at his full height when Kakuzu snarled and tried grabbing it back

“Hidan” Kakuzu’s voice was like that of a patient mother a second away from scolding a child, Hidan found that ironically hilarious seeing how Kid kuzu barely came up to his stomach “Give that back” He demanded with a glare

“Haven’t you ever been a kid? I mean I now back in your day it was expected to be a ninja from a young age, but damn. I think I’m starting to see why you’re such a grouch all the god damn time” Hidan noted with a sympathetic shake of his head “Come on little guy” Hidan said as he tossed the book behind him uncaring as he hefted the kid up by the arms

“Hidan. Put me down” Kakuzu said not really struggling. But he sounded immensely annoyed to Hidan’s amusement

“Can’t believe this small body of yours becomes your imposing self later in life. I bet puberty hit you like a truck” Hidan chuckled, and when Kakuzu began struggling in his hold. The zealot could only find his efforts cute

“Where are we going?” Kakuzu question unamused. He promptly gave up knowing struggling would be pointless. Hidan wished he kept at it, it really was adorable watching his tiny arms and legs thrash about

“To the park”

“Hidan, I’m not going to play” Kakuzu spat the word ‘play’ out in a disgusted manner

“And why the hell not?” Hidan spat back

“Because I’m a grown ass man nearing 100” He answered dryly

“To anybody and everybody you look like a kid, I bet even other Akatsuki members wouldn’t recognize you” the platinum haired man tried to reason “Just fucking let loose and take this chance to have fun”

“My definition of ‘fun’ isn’t that of a normal persons Hidan. My fun is silence, my fun is curled up under the shade of a tree with a good book. Not doing pointless play and socializing more than I must” Kakuzu began resisting again, giving a loud growl of frustration when he gave up yet again as he didn’t even budge in Hidan’s grip

“And it’s definitely not being carried off by my idiot partner to be forced to do just that” Hidan stopped, setting Kakuzu down, Kakuzu was surprised at this and looked up at him as they silently held each others gaze

“Can we do something?” It sounded like a plea, and Kakuzu hardened a glare at the sound of it

“Like what?” He ground out, crossing his arms angrily as he really couldn’t be bothered to do anything. He just wanted to read damnit

“What do you want to do” Hidan paused and looked to consider something before he added “That’s not reading” Kakuzu tsk’d audibly

Time passed as Kakuzu mulled over what the two could do together

More time passed, a gentle breeze whipping past the duo

“…”

“You really can’t think of anything can you?” Hidan asked with a small amount of pity in his voice, it pissed the miser off

“Well what did you do back in your day? Did you find anything enjoyable? Anything at all?” Hidan prompted, trying desperately to get something. But Kakuzu was giving him nothing to work with

“Training”

“Huh?” Hidan asked stupidly, dumbfounded

“Training” Kakuzu reiterated “It was the few things me and my father used to do together before he left. I remember learning how to throw kunai was fun” He explained

Hidan beamed startling Kakuzu

“Then let’s fucking“ Hidan drawled to look around trying to find a place to practice, not seeing anything “er- Let’s fucking do it” Hidan nodded before grabbing the smaller hand in his to drag him back to the backyard of their little impromptu house

‘Progress’ was all the albino could think. After spending an entire week with the man, finally he was making some real progress. He couldn’t screw it up

----

“You need to flick your wrist and add more power” Kakuzu explained with mild irritation

“It’s not my fault I never fucking use these things, I mean who would with a scythe like this” Whipping it off of his back he made a show of showcasing his prized weapon by flinging it around like a madman Kakuzu sighed

“You graduated without perfecting this simple trick?” Kakuzu questioned in disbelief “my, how far have shinobi fallen?”

“Hmph, this whole thing is stupid anyways” Hidan concluded snobbily as he turned his nose up and crossed his arms over his chest

“Nobody forced you to do this you know, let’s just call it quits”

“No!” Hidan said hurriedly only to scratch the back of his head awkwardly “I mean, I think I almost got the hang of it”

“…” Kakuzu stared at his partner before narrowing his eyes “Not even close” He stated bluntly “Your trajectory was awful; your wrist flick needs work and your power was pathetic”

“Hah?! You got a problem you little shit?! I’ll fricken sacrifice you to Jashin-sama don’t test me!”

“Calm down” Kakuzu glared over at him “I’m sure that even someone as hopeless as you could learn to do this if you tried harder” Kakuzu explained as he walked over to the man, stopping just in front of him and stared up at the man before gesturing for the man to lower himself

Hidan did after a second, and Kakuzu held his hand. Hidan jolted at the contact not expecting it in the slightest before Kakuzu adjusted his grip on the kunai and turning to position his hand properly before taking a step back

They stared at each other, Hidan in stunned silence before it became apparent that Kakuzu wanted him to try throwing it now “…” keeping his hold the way Kakuzu adjusted it for him, he lined up his shot before whipping it like a dart

-Twunk- the sound of the kunai’s sharp edge embedding into the wooden tree of bark. It missed the target’s middle by quite a bit. But it was an improvement seeing how Hidan couldn’t get the damned thing to stick before now

“See?” Kakuzu asked condescendingly, pissing the jashinist off

Kakuzu walked over once more to handed him his own kunai, Hidan took it and again Kakuzu stared at him. Knowing what that meant he did his best to hold the weapon like how Kakuzu showed him before throwing it again

“Oh!” Hidan gleefully cheered once it nearly hit the center “Did you fucking see that shit?” He questioned snapping his head from the target to kid kuzu and back

Kakuzu let out a chuckle at his overzealousness of his minor (and admittingly unimpressive) accomplishment “I did indeed” He needlessly informed the other

By the time the sun was setting, Kakuzu realized that they spent practically the whole day kunai throwing

“Hidan, make diner” Kakuzu demanded as he stalked towards the house, his hands were killing him. He can’t remember the last time he did the basics of kunai throwing for so long

“Take out?” Hidan asked, not really feeling up to cook, his arms were quite sore as well, turns out making a competition of who can hit the center of a target the most in an hour was draining (Kakuzu won)

“Don’t be lazy, we can’t let just anybody find out we’re here. I mean, if anyone saw your face, they’d recognize you as part of the Akatsuki immediately”

“Fiiine~” Hidan whined as he stomped his feet childishly to the kitchen, surprised when soft sounding footsteps followed after him. Peering over his shoulder he saw his ‘little’ companion

Kakuzu picked up on his silent question “I could cut the vegetables” was all he said

#kakuhida #Kid kuzu #man child hidan #one shot probably #crackfic #crackiest of crackfics

[frizz22]

Prompt based on your last wonderfully written Spellwood piece. A time where Shirley caught Zelda giving Faustus a blowjob

Plus added request by @beretcheguevary wanting to see Zelda torture Shirley. Sequel to ‘Chaperones’. Read on ao3

They were safely sequestered in Faustus’ office. The door was locked, and classes had been over for an hour, so the likelihood of them being interrupted should have been zero.

Which was why Zelda thought nothing of the fact that she was sitting next to Faustus on the couch, bent over and pleasuring him with her mouth. While they may age slower than mortals, it didn’t mean kneeling on the ground for long periods was good on her knees. Faustus didn’t care that she was next to instead of in front of him, not based on the noises he was making, on how his hand fisted in her hair occasionally.

No, Zelda thought nothing of it. At least, not until she heard a soft click and a sharp inhale. 

Bringing her eyes up, Zelda found Shirley standing there, eyes wide and frozen. Damn this woman and her ability to break the locking spells, though why she’d broken the ones on the high priest’s office was something Zelda stored away to think on later.

For now, though, Zelda could finally use the information Faustus had given her the other week; that Shirley wanted her, was jealous.

Maintaining eye contact with Shirley, Zelda continued to pleasure Faustus; her hand working the base of him while her mouth handled the rest. She hummed around him, relishing in his responding groan.

“Satan, Zelda, you’re glorious.” He gasped, oblivious to their guest, eyes still closed and head laying back against the couch.

Shirley still hadn’t moved.

Wanting to play with the woman a bit, Zelda inched her dress up more and spread her legs so she could slide her free hand between them. Eyes still locked with Shirley’s, Zelda dipped her finger in; first one, then two, then finally a third. At the third finger, Zelda couldn’t help how her eyes closed at the sensation.

When she opened them again, Shirley was flushed, and her chest raising rapidly as her eyes stayed glued to where Zelda’s fingers were working. Fighting a smile as her head continued to bob over Faustus, Zelda opened her legs a little wider and swiped at her clit; making her groan around Faustus who made a corresponding sound.

Shirley licked her lips, an involuntary shudder running through the woman that even Zelda could see from her position.

Making sure to coat her fingers thoroughly in her own juices, Zelda pulled her head back just enough to only be teasing the head of Faustus’ cock. As Faustus gasped her name, Zelda wiped her fingers off along his shaft and then lowered her mouth to encase him fully once more; the taste now an intoxicating mix of both her and Faustus.

Faustus was getting close, but Zelda was only half paying attention to him; eyes still on the witch in front of her who’s legs were now pressed together in a desperate attempt for friction after Zelda’s latest little display.

Her attention was only recaptured by the warlock under her when he grunted. “Zelda, I’m, I’m going to—"

Ever the gentleman, Faustus normally tried to warn her when he came; she took it all every time, not minding, but it was nice to not be surprised. Returning her attention to where it probably should have been this entire time, Zelda doubled down, losing sight of Shirley.

It was only when she finished, raising her head and licking her lips to capture some errant drops, making Faustus smirk, that Zelda noticed Shirley had vanished.

No matter, she knew where to find the woman. But first… she leaned in and kissed Faustus, letting him taste himself and a little bit of her as well, and guided his hand between her legs so he could finish what she’d started.

~~~~~~~~

Just as she’d thought, Shirley was in her office. In just the state Zelda expected her to be in; skirt hiked up to her waist and fingers buried deep inside herself.

Zelda couldn’t help but smirk. “What a wanton hussy we have here.” She intoned, Shirley’s head snapping up, eyes wide when they met hers—not that this shamed the witch into stopping. “Masturbating in your office. Why, Shirley,” Zelda purred, stalking closer. “Whatever has you so… worked up?” She placed her hands on Shirley’s exposed thighs spreading them a bit further and the woman whimpered with want and her hand moved faster between them.

“Please, Zelda.” She begged breathlessly; pupils blown wide with lust.

Unable to suppress it, a wicked smile spread across Zelda’s lips. “Please what, Shirley?” She dropped her hands and Shirley’s free hand shot out to grab Zelda’s.

“I want,“ she panted, "I need—”

Stepping back into Shirley’s space, and then a little closer still; Zelda stopped when she was standing between Shirley’s legs, her arms bracketing the woman where she was sitting on her desk. She then dipped her head as though she were going to kiss the woman’s neck. “You will stop spying on Faustus and I.” She breathed in Shirley’s ear, pulling back just enough so they were now eye to eye, inches apart. “You will stop breaking locking spells.”

One of her hands came up and squeezed Shirley’s hip and the woman gasped, fingers pumping furiously. Zelda flicked her free wrist, freezing Shirley’s efforts. “I need you to focus, Shirley,” she took the woman’s chin in her hand and lifted it, so she was looking Zelda in the eye. The woman mewled in desperation but remained stuck. “Stop spying, or we will have problems, and you don’t want that, do you?”

Shirley shook her head the best she could with her chin still in Zelda’s grip.

“Be good for me, help me out here at the academy and I may just reward you for it.” Zelda let her eyes sweep over Shirley as she freed her from the spell, the woman’s hand resuming its earlier frantic pace immediately.

With one last appraising look, Zelda turned to leave and Shirley grasped at her again, voice raw with emotion. “Zelda, please, please don’t go. I—”

“Haven’t done anything to earn a reward yet, Shirley.” She arched a brow and shook herself free, breathy gasps and moans following her out the door.

Faustus stood waiting for her at the end of the hall, eyebrows lifted. “Get what you need?”

Just then Shirley’s cries of release filtered through her door and down the hall.

“I believe all of us did.” Zelda grinned wickedly and Faustus wrapped an arm around her waist as they made to the front of the building to leave. “She won’t be bothering us anymore. Or snooping.” She informed him in a self-satisfied manner. “I even managed to turn her into a lackey.”

Eyes glinting darkly, Faustus’ nails bit deliciously into her hip. “And what did you promise her in return?”

Zelda turned, walking backwards a few steps, a sinful smile on her lips. “A reward, for if she was good.” Faustus smirked and took a few predatorial steps towards her. “Do I get a reward?” She asked demurely, lowering her eyes a bit in faux submission as he continued his approach; desire and anticipation building inside her at his expression. “For being good? For dealing with our Shirley problem?”

A growl escaped him, and Faustus closed the remaining distance between them, his lips marking her neck. “It’s only fitting.” He murmured, nipping her ear, before teleporting them to his house.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #writing prompt #zelda x faustus #Zelda Spellman #faustus blackwood #father blackwood #spellwood #shirley jackson #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic

[chaossmagic]

16 and Robron for the mini fic please!!

Home Farm Week angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort all in one! 

Also, I’m pretty sure this is far too long to be a mini fic, but I don’t care because it satisfies one of my main headcanons/unanswered questions about their relationship’s development.

Tagging @sugden-dinglefirst because she’s my #1 cheerleader in my fanfic ventures.

Lying on cool, cotton sheets, completely naked with Robert pressed flush against his back, Aaron fought sleep though his eyes burned as he tried to savour the feel of the man next to him. His skin was slightly sticky with sweat, his breath tickling the back of Aaron’s neck, one bare leg slung over his hip and the other lying across his stomach, cocooning him like a warm, living blanket.

They’d been lying there for hours, spent and exhausted, and yet Aaron didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.  He wanted to keep this memory, as well as all the others, alive in his mind just a little longer. He wanted to remember this, the simple thing of lying in bed with someone with their arms around you, to try and imagine just this once what it might be like if things were different.

If this were his - their - bed.

If Robert were Aaron’s husband instead of Chrissie’s.

Just thinking the words made him feel sick to his stomach; he wasn’t Aaron’s. He belonged to someone else.

But it didn’t stop him from settling further into Robert’s arms, listening to the sound of his slow, rasping breaths, feeling the the curl of his toes against the back of his calf and waiting, every so often, for the barely-audible snore he gave, which made Aaron bite his lip to stop himself from sniggering.

Robert Sugden snored. That was both bloody brilliant and downright infuriating, especially when he was just about to fall asleep, only to be interrupted by a snort-grunt coming from behind him.

Rolling onto his opposite side, Aaron turned in Robert’s arms to face him directly, wanting to watch his face as he slept. There was something about him that changed when he was asleep, Aaron had noticed. Gone was the hard, cocky attitude and ‘rebel without a cause’ exterior, and in its place there was something….soft about him. Gentle. With the smirk gone from his lips and his nose no longer in the air in a ‘holier than thou’ way the way it usually was, with him swanning around the village in a battered - though, probably, knowing him, very very expensive - leather jacket thinking he was James bloody Dean, Robert was different. Aaron liked him more like this, when he wasn’t trying so hard to pretend to everyone that he was someone he wasn’t. Like this, he wasn’t Robert Sugden, Village Arsehole, but just Robert.

In the dim light of the room, a thin strip of moonlight coming through the curtains was just enough for Aaron to make out the smattering of freckles on Robert’s cheeks, and he found himself tracing them with his eyes, the way they decorated his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose in that God forsaken way that Aaron found endearing. Made him look less like a cocky bastard and more of an actual human being with feelings.

Without really thinking about it, Aaron raised the tip of his finger to Robert’s cheek and stroked the path of the freckles there, feather-light and soft lest he wake him up. He stirred, but remained asleep. His skin was soft under the rough pads of Aaron’s fingers from years of hard work as a mechanic, and he felt the warmth there spreading through his whole body, lighting him up from the inside.

Gently, as softly as he could, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of Robert’s nose; he let his eyes flutter closed as he took in this simple moment, this tiny gesture of domestic bliss that they rarely ever let themselves feel. They were so often hurried and rushed, always sending last-minute texts and speaking with using words over the vast space of a packed pub, but now they had time, and Aaron wasn’t looking to waste any of it.

Robert shifted next to him, his eyes slowly blinking open, stretching out slightly as he woke from sleep. His lips quirked into a teasing smile. “You going soft on me, Dingle?” he joked in a sleepy voice, nudging Aaron’s calf with his toes.

“Nah,” Aaron grinned, leaning in for another soft kiss to the tip of the other man’s nose. “Just admiring the view, aren’t I?”

“Hmm,” Robert hummed, wrapping one naked leg more tightly around Aaron’s, holding him closer and bringing their chests flush together. With each breath, their bare skin brushed, and it was enough to leave them searching for each other’s mouths in a desperate kiss, all tongue and warm lips.

Robert woke fully now, wrapping his strong arms around Aaron’s waist and splaying his hands across the expanse of his back, moving his mouth from his lips to his jaw and then his neck, lightly sucking there with a tiny moan as they tangled together all over again, neither really knowing where one ended and the other began. It was a mess of teeth and tongues and limbs, the moonlight playing over their bare skin as they wound around each other.

Aaron rolled onto his back so that Robert was on top of him, arms bracketing either side of his head, hands spread wide on the pillow. He reached up to find his mouth again, groaning as the new position changed the feel of the kiss, hooking one hand around the back of Robert’s neck to anchor him there. His hips arched voluntarily, and Robert broke away with a gasp to lower his pale blond head to Aaron’s chest and stomach, peppering the sensitive skin there with harsh, wet kisses that made Aaron’s blood heat. His fingers found Robert’s hair and pulled, holding him in place as he laved over his skin.

Until he felt Robert graze the raised, jagged skin on his lower abdomen, and his whole body tensed as fear closed itself around his chest and throat, making his hands,  still holding Robert’s hair, shake violently.

“Robert,” he managed to croak out. “Rob-stop, please. Just stop.”

“Why?” the other man asked, his voice muffled against his stomach. He turned to start covering his body with kisses again. “I was just getting started.”

“Don’t!” Aaron said, this time more harshly. “Please.” His eyes screwed shut as he clenched his jaw to keep from losing his head completely. “Trust me, Robert. I don’t - I don’t want you to touch me there.”

This time, Robert obeyed, and raised his head to give Aaron an intense, concerned look. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion - and worry. “Aaron?”

“I’m ugly, Robert,” he said quietly. “Okay? I - I got scars, all over me, and I don’t want anybody seeing or knowing about them….or touching them.”

“These?” Robert asked gently, rubbing his finger and thumb over a particularly angry one near Aaron’s hip.

He remembered, as clear as day, the memory of how and when he’d done it. He’d had a nightmare, another one, a bad one, and he’d woken up in the middle of the night in a blind panic, unable to breathe, and slashed at his skin with an old razor he found in the bathroom cupboard.

He shut his eyes against the memory, turning away from Robert. But he was persistent, and he heard the rustle of the sheets as he climbed back up to him, cocooning him in his arms and pressing his cheek to the top of his head.

“I used to cut myself,” Aaron whispered into the blackness, not daring to turn his head or look anywhere but at the backs of his own eyelids, because he was too afraid that this revelation might send Robert running for the hills. That it would make him discover that he preferred Chrissie, who didn’t have a map of bad memories and a lifetime of agony etched into her skin. “Before. When I was growing up.”

For several long moments, there was only silence. Aaron filled it awkwardly, suddenly grasped with the desire to get everything off his chest. “I guess I was depressed or summat, I dunno. I think I was. I mean, I didn’t get diagnosed or anything. But I knew I was ill, and I couldn’t stop it, so I just kept cutting because it was the only thing that made me feel any different to how empty I thought my life was. I did it for years.”

“You’re brave,” Robert murmured against his hair, smoothing a hand over the side of his torso and down his thigh in a slow, circular motion, as if to soothe him by his physical touch. “You’re braver than I am.”

“You saw the scars, Rob. They’re disgusting.” Aaron repressed a shudder. “I hate them. I wish I didn’t have them, but I do, and nothing can change that.”

“Hey, hey,” Robert called softly, “don’t talk like that. They’re not disgusting. They’re-” he cut himself off, swallowed audibly. “They’re beautiful.”

Aaron huffed a derisive laugh. “No, they’re not. I don’t need you to pity me, Robert. And I don’t need any false rubbish about how they make me a strong person, because I’ve heard it all before from me mum and I don’t believe it.”

“She’s a smart woman,” he agreed. “She may hate me, but she’s right about that, at least.”  He nuzzled the side of Aaron’s neck, pressed a tiny kiss to his shoulder. “Please believe me when I say I don’t care about what you’ve been through. You don’t have to tell me everything, but - I’m glad you’ve told me about this.”

By some form of miracle, hearing those words loosened something in Aaron’s chest without him wanting them to; just the acknowledgement that he was glad, he was thankful, that he’d shared this with him made it seem a little less of a burden to deal with.

“Thanks for, y’know, listening,” Aaron replied gruffly. “I’m sorry I kind of freaked out before, when you touched me.”

“I get it, it’s a sensitive issue for you,” Robert said. “I’m just sorry you had to go through it, whatever it is, that’s all.” His hand came to rest on Aaron’s stomach. “I am here for you, you know.”

“I know,” Aaron concurred, sleep starting to slur the edges of his words now, the warm lull of Robert’s voice and sincere words - because he believed they were sincere, despite the circumstances, despite everything - making his body relax and become heavy. “Thanks, Robert.”

Robert pulled up the sheets higher and tucked them around them both, protecting them from the slight chill that had descended on the room. “Go to sleep, Aaron. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh-ohkay,” Aaron yawned, his eyes closing.

And for the first proper time in a while, he did.

#spreadlovelikelegs #lorna's writing #robron #robron fic #emmerdale fic

[kittyrossa]

when i first watched the S5 finale, i was instantly struck by how the white lion trials parallel the marmora trials! for brevity’s sake, i will refer to them as WL (white lion) and BoM (blade of marmora) throughout the post.

my friend @shirogane-s made a gorgeous gifset that sums up the main parallel, which is, as she says in the caption:

keith initially embodies lotor’s “i will get the results i want (i.e. victory/knowledge) or die trying” approach, but is only able to awaken his blade once he yields, which nicely mirrors allura’s success with the white lion

these three characters (keith/lotor/allura) are all fascinating foils to one another, so it makes sense that their trials would highlight exactly that!

HERITAGE

kolivan: the only way [awakening the blade] is possible is if galra blood runs through your veins.

lotor: that thing is a guardian — it will only allow worthy alteans through.

the BoM trials can be completed by those of galra blood, and the WL trials can be completed by those of altean blood.

keith goes into the BoM trials wanting to discover the secrets of his past; he has spent his entire life with a blade that he does not know the origins of, but has reason to believe is connected to his mother and to galra heritage.

lotor goes into the WL trials wanting to discover the secrets of altean alchemy; he has spent centuries searching for clues of oriande, hoping it will connect him to his altean heritage and to his mother, who possessed the same thirst for knowledge.

allura goes into the WL trials wanting to discover the secrets that her father knew and that she may have inherited: the ancient altean wisdom that allowed him to create voltron and spread peace throughout the universe, the very legacy that allura wants to continue.

CHOSEN

lotor and allura are branded with “the marks of the chosen”, altean markings that glow when deemed worthy of entering oriande. lotor is unsurprised that allura is chosen — alfor had the strongest understanding of altean alchemy — but lotor does seem surprised by his own selection. because honerva did not unlock the secrets of oriande, lotor only saw allura as a potential key. it’s plausible that haggar and lotor were given the properties of a sacred altean after honerva went through the rift, but lotor is not yet admitting that haggar and honerva could be one and the same. whether or not being chosen by the guardian is due to bloodlines, lotor and allura are both chosen. lotor says this is because some alteans are more connected to energy — more “magical” than others. this is just the first step, however; they will still have to prove their worth in the WL trials.

keith being “chosen” is not quite as magical or mystical! he is chosen by his parents to own the blade, though in its knife form; the magical and mystical part comes if he awakens the blade, transforming it. from the way antok reacts — accusing keith of stealing it — it’s clear that most BoM trials end in owning a blade that is individual to the wielder. because keith comes to the trials with a blade that used to be his mother’s and was then passed on to him from his father, he has to prove that he is worthy of being “chosen” by both the blade and his parents.

you can even argue that keith is chosen by a third person: shiro, who ends up playing a crucial role in the BoM trials, and who was himself chosen by ulaz as a fighter/leader that could help the BoM. shiro chooses keith not just as a right-hand man that will partner him to the headquarters, but as someone he trusts to take over leadership should something ever happen to him. shiro says that keith needs to work on controlling his emotions and on learning self-discipline, unaware that the BoM trials will test keith with that same mindset.

BLACK HOLE VS. WHITE HOLE

each trial is hidden: the BoM trials within a space pocket bracketed by black holes, and the WL trials within the energy of a white hole.

this is true to the fact that both trials are rooted in secrecy. the BoM’s location is only revealed because ulaz entrusted shiro with the coordinates, and the WL’s location is only revealed because allura’s power granted her access to the compass stone’s map. only two are permitted to enter the BoM headquarters, and only two are chosen by the guardian to enter oriande’s realm. in both cases, the rest of the paladins are forced to wait at the castle, without a glimpse of what could be happening — the black and white holes cause too much interference, preventing any readings.

lotor: the wise stand back from the fire; fools are burned on the pyre; the mystic becomes one with the flame; the embers and he are the same.

keith has to navigate away from being sucked into the black hole, but lotor and allura have to navigate inside the white hole. this is a mirror of the trials themselves: the BoM trials are about evading a dangerous path to focus on the destination, and the WL trials are about becoming one with energy to reach the destination.

KNOWLEDGE

as soon as the trials begin, they do not stop. keith is faced with the relentless swordsmanship of the BoM, and lotor and allura are faced with the charged attacks of the white lion.

keith and lotor rise to the challenge, but allura is quick to realize that engaging in combat is not the answer:

allura: i do not wish to fight! i come here seeking knowledge. this isn’t the way.

though allura has lost altea, she has not forgotten its culture or what she has learned from her father. alfor’s contribution to peace went beyond voltron; as coran says, they “can’t always put the fate of the universe in the hands of a giant weapon — at least, that’s what your father believed.” alteans were diplomats. the first time allura awakens her magic, it’s not through weapons, but through words. her voice reaches the balmerans as she tells them not to give up — she knows what it’s like to watch her home planet die, and will not let it happen to them.

coran: in the days of old, when alteans were given the gift of crystals from a balmera, we would repay its sacrifice by performing a ceremony. a sacred altean would re-infuse the balmera with quintessence. in this way, we had a symbiotic relationship.

allura: the galra have only been taking. it’s time we give back.

allura risks the same ceremony that her father performed, even though she’s never done it before and the scale of it may come at the cost of her own life. the ceremony isn’t about power, but about how she can use power to provide peace; and since then, this has been allura’s goal every time she has awakened her magic. her magic destroys the komar (haggar’s experiment that drains planets of quintessence), and her magic revives voltron on naxzela before haggar can bomb it. allura’s magic may be new to her, but by following her father’s footsteps in saving countless lives, she is firm about what she wants to do with her magic.

this is the wisdom that allura brings with her to the WL trials. lotor admits that none of his research can prepare them for what happens once they’re in oriande, but allura is a natural at navigating the obstacles presented by the sages. she knows that she needs to kneel and seek permission for passage and clarify that they intend no harm; that they offer up the compass stone as a gift. she also spots the teludav that transports them to the WL trials, something that lotor says only a “trained altean” would recognize.

as much as he wishes to connect to his altean heritage, lotor is not a “trained altean”. he has attempted to train himself by exploring the universe and gathering what remnants of altea that he can find, but there’s a difference between scientific theory and spiritual practise. attempts at either have been shamed as weak by zarkon — “you have altean blood running through your veins, poisoning your very being” — or outright crushed.

lotor: i envy you growing up with king alfor. i always wanted to be an explorer and learn about the universe. my father was only interested in conquering it. he once put me in charge of a planet for a year, running the quintessence mining and getting to know the local population. rather than employ the usual galran methods of subjugation, i worked alongside the leadership of the planet, learning their customs. we would only extract as much quintessence as could be replenished, and i enjoyed my time there quite a bit. when my father found out what was happening, he ordered me to destroy the planet. i refused, and he sent me away. he destroyed them all. i was powerless to stop him.

lotor does try to prioritize knowledge, just as he feels his mother once did — and if he’s going to gain a victory, it’s not going to be through the brute force and aggression that is favored by his father. he’s a fighter that survives by trapping and evading and using his surroundings; when engaged in combat, he provokes whoever is at the other end of his sword — throk, zarkon, sendak — by mocking their aggressive clawing for power and glory. when zarkon pursues him in the air with the intent to kill, lotor doesn’t fight, but escapes through harnessing the power of a sun.

because he’s been raised in galra culture rather than altean culture, it’s understandable that it’s lotor who keeps repeating that the WL trials will likely test their “worth”. when we first meet lotor, one of the first things he reveals is that rising to the galra throne is through “the honorable rite of combat”, and this is further confirmed with the ceremony of kral zera. you win by being the strongest, whether your methods are mental or physical or a combination of both.

lotor is a “trained galra”, even if he tries to rebel against that training. allura isn’t afraid to be alone during her WL trials, but lotor is out of his element when he finds himself without her, asking after her by calling her name. the landscape is an open space — there is nowhere to hide and its emptiness provides nothing to use. he can’t evade this. plus, the white lion doesn’t talk: it’s like a translucent spirit, making no sounds beyond roars and growls. there is no personality for lotor to provoke, no amount of cunning that will stop the white lion’s physical force — he can only respond to it by matching it with his own.

lotor: i will not yield! i will gain your secrets!

this is an obvious echo of keith in the BoM trials, though he’s fighting people rather than projections:

BoM: surrender the blade and the pain will cease.

keith: i won’t quit.

BoM: surrender the blade and the pain will cease.

keith: never!

this is not about glory; this is not about proving himself the strongest. keith is galra, but hasn’t grown up in the empire as lotor has, internalizing its values despite himself. this isn’t about his pride as a fighter, but as a person. if he surrenders the blade, he is surrendering his identity. if he gives up the fight, he is not being faithful to his determination to always see a goal through — to be all in.

like lotor, keith hasn’t been trained by his mother. keith is coming into his trials with the least amount of knowledge about his family, and he sees his knife as his key. how can he let them take it away? he doesn’t know the BoM’s customs and culture. he doesn’t know that these trials are not just testing his endurance against the empire’s unyielding fight, but testing his ability to know when to stop — a balance that he’s already struggled with.

coran: it’s zarkon! keith, get out of there, now! zarkon is too powerful!

keith: this is my chance to put an end to the galra empire! i have to take it!

zarkon: you fight like a galra soldier — but not for long!

unlike lotor, however, keith has a support system that has helped him try to find that balance.

keith: patience yields focus.

shiro: that really stayed with you, didn’t it?

keith: you’ve given me some good advice. if it weren’t for you, my life would have been a lot different.

shiro is right there watching the BoM trials, worrying for keith and rooting for him. he knows that keith will never quit, and he knows that keith’s emotions can overpower his focus. keith may be seeking knowledge about his galra family, but shiro is his found family from earth. they met at some point in their lives, and shiro for keith became the one person who “has never given up” on him, implying that others have given up. others have perhaps looked at keith’s fire and found the flames too dangerous or destructive, a person they don’t want to get burned by, but shiro looked at keith’s fire and helped him transform it into a light to guide both keith and others, including shiro. he believes in keith.

so, it takes him some time, but keith eventually uses “patience yields focus” in the BoM trials: he slows down and notices the escape route, throwing his knife and evading without surrendering. keith is exhausted and in pain and he desperately wants to see shiro, which is why hologram!shiro appears as a manifestation of his hopes and fears — the hopes that he will support keith, and the fears that he will reject keith. hologram!shiro tries to impart wisdom, but it’s clinical and cruel: keith is selfish, keith already has family in shiro and the paladins, and if keith doesn’t give up the knife, then keith has chosen to be alone. shiro abandoning him is the first thing to make keith hesitate, but before he can run after him, the mindscape changes to a hologram of keith’s father, who has all of the knowledge that keith is seeking.

SACRIFICE

the BoM trials and the WL trials come down to the ultimate question of “what are you willing to give up, and will you give it up?”

allura: i seek the secret of life. i give my own.

allura is willing.

keith: just take the knife! it doesn’t matter where i come from — i know who i am. we all need to work together to defeat zarkon. if that means i give up this knife, fine. take it.

keith is willing.

lotor: victory or death!

lotor is unwilling.

before i continue, there’s a third “trial” that feels relevant: shiro’s battle with zarkon in the astral plane.

zarkon: you have no idea how to command a weapon like this!

shiro: no one commands the black lion!

zarkon: you dare lecture me? do you think the black lion would allow such a feeble creature to pilot it? only the powerful can command it!

shiro: you’ve forgotten what’s most important between a lion and its paladin. it’s not about power. it’s about earning each other’s trust!

lotor fails his trials because he fails to realize what allura and keith do: that it’s not about being worthy of power, but about being trustworthy.

lotor doesn’t trust the white lion not to hurt him, and it’s hard to blame him. his father has targeted him with the same physical force, and would have gone to the point of killing lotor more than once. and though lotor is adamant that “that witch is not my mother”, haggar is the nearest maternal figure that he has: she has stood alongside zarkon and participated in the attempts to control lotor, albeit more psychologically than physically. she has sent out people to spy on him (military, narti, shiro); and though she shares the same blood that blocks her from the throne, haggar coldly calls lotor a “half-breed” whose altean blood quells the rights granted by his galra blood.

so, it’s understandable that lotor isn’t quick to trust people, let alone mysterious mystical lions. his team of generals came the closest in that lotor trusted them to carry out his plans, and in the end they deserted him — but only because lotor lost their trust first. cutting narti down is an example of how lotor does not like to feel powerless — like he’s losing control — and thus is not above doing whatever it takes to regain that power and control. he has manipulated the empire, the rebels, and the paladins, presenting and performing himself as trustworthy in actions and in words. but it’s likely that the white lion would have seen a manipulative stab at diplomacy such as “i come here for nothing but peace.” lotor may claim that as his aim in discovering the secrets of altean alchemy, but in reality he is still too focused on power.

it’s comparable to the triforce from the legend of zelda: three forces (power/courage/wisdom) that need to be balanced to bring peace. allura, though she also relies on power and courage, embodies wisdom; keith, though he also relies on power and wisdom, embodies courage; and lotor, though he also relies on courage and wisdom, embodies power.

allura and keith have a better hold on balancing all three, even if one can dominate; but lotor largely uses his courage and wisdom for the endgame of power, a path that his parents went down and launched an unending war.

alfor: the ore from the comet practically engineers itself. it’s frightening, in a way.

zarkon: endlessly powerful ships for the galra empire.

alfor: and an endless source of clean energy for the entire system.

*

alfor: we must exercise caution. we have no idea what is out there.

honerva: the ancients thought that lightning was shot from the bows of the gods until science proved otherwise. we must always push into dangerous territory in pursuit of knowledge.

*

honerva: quintessence is so much more than you can understand. it is life itself.

alfor: you’ve gone too far.

honerva: you’ve always been a coward! you wish to close off our gateway to enlightenment — we should be expanding it!

zarkon: if we use voltron, we can enlarge the opening to the other reality!

alfor: it’s madness! this prolonged exposure to quintessence has poisoned your minds.

zarkon: we’ve only scratched the surface. we can rule this entire universe! we can live forever! all of us!

alfor: i cannot be a part of this.

zarkon: you are only one part of voltron, alfor. you cannot hold us all back because of your fear! alfor, i lead the paladins! i command you!

lotor doesn’t want to be his father, but emulating his mother doesn’t mean he isn’t seeking power. like honerva, lotor seeks power through knowledge; and like honerva, lotor sees going through the rift as how to get that power. plan A was reaping the rift’s quintessence by building ships from the transreality comet. when that failed, lotor went for plan B: allura and voltron — much like how zarkon and honerva manipulated alfor and voltron.

shiro: how do you get an empire that’s only known violence for thousands of years to put down their weapons?

lotor: by providing them with the very thing they’re fighting for: quintessence. unlimited amounts of it. and allura, you are the key to getting it.

*

lotor: in order to transition the galra empire to a peaceful existence, i need to open up a pathway to the quintessence field. once my people have access to unlimited energy, the old ways of the empire will be behind them.

allura: if this voyage is successful, the universe will finally be on the path to peace.

again, lotor is certainly saying all of the right things — but, well, “the masses are easily manipulated.” he must know that it’s not that simple: unlimited quintessence may stop the hunt for power, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stop the hunger for it. the galra spirit won’t change from power-hungry to peace-seeking overnight — the galra can still use unlimited quintessence for physical force and violent feats. when keith and krolia reunite, it’s on a mission to destroy a superweapon built from undocumented quintessence that is unparalleled in its power; and lotor says himself that haggar is constantly seeking altean magical knowledge to “pervert” for her own power.

allura: your mother was honerva? the honerva that discovered the rift on planet daibazaal? then you’re — half-altean!

lotor: yes. it was something the galra considered a weakness, but i considered it a strength. the union between zarkon and honerva sparked a technological revolution within the empire. even back then, altean culture was remarkably advanced. the kinds of experiments she was conducting — she advanced science by eons.

lotor is trying to gain power in the Altean (Honerva) Way that he sees as superior to the Galra (Zarkon) Way. given how much lotor has had to fight for his own survival, it’s not unreasonable that he thinks he needs power to do so — specifically more power than zarkon, who lotor has felt powerless against before. when the white lion attacks him, lotor kills it — “victory or death!” — out of survival instincts; he isn’t about to sacrifice his own life that easily, not after centuries of fighting for it and for the dawn of a new age that honors his (and his mother’s) vision of power.

lotor: i will light the flame. not for defeating my father, and not even for being the strongest galra here. but because i did something no one else could do: i returned the black lion to the galra!

lotor may try to distance himself from his father, but at his core, he too sees voltron as a source of power to command. he displays himself as having ownership over the black lion, which is why he doesn’t succeed with the white lion. it never once occurs to him that it’s about teamwork and trust, a sincere emotional bond — “political allyship for one’s own gain” is not going to cut it.

keith’s BoM trials are about forming an alliance between voltron and marmora, but keith succeeds where lotor fails because he puts the mission above himself. the mindscape is on the cusp of unlocking every secret kept from keith, but he’s distracted by the galra attacking earth and people screaming and the red lion waiting for him.

keith: dad, i’m sorry, i gotta go. there’s people that need me out there.

keith’s father: don’t you want to know where you came from? your mother gave [the knife] to me.

keith: mom?

keith’s father: she’ll be here soon.

keith: you gotta tell me, dad. i have to know! where did the knife come from? what does it mean?

keith’s father: your mother is almost here. she’ll tell you everything.

keith: i can’t wait around anymore, i have to go!

keith’s father: if you walk out that door, you’ll never find out who you are.

keith: goodbye, dad.

arguably, the first lion “trial” is between keith and red: the red lion requires its paladin to prove that they’re worthy of respect, and keith has to fight off galra and get thrown out into space for the red lion to believe that he’s “all in”, swooping in to save him; a pattern that continues after keith finds out that he’s able to connect to red from long distances. keith is a paladin of voltron: he knows that working together with your lion is what will save the universe. he would never strike it as lotor did to the white lion, and the red lion would never let anyone strike keith.

shiro: [the red lion] has a link with keith. it knows when he’s in danger — it’s coming for him!

shiro joins red in fighting the BoM, only letting go of a wounded keith to defend him against kolivan and antok, who demand that keith give up his blade because he “failed to awaken it.” keith stops them as shiro and antok clash, voicing what he decided in the mindscape: he knows who he is and what he wants to do. what matters is saving the universe, and they need to work together to make that happen. if he has to give up his knife for that teamwork and trust, then he’s willing to make that sacrifice.

this is what awakens keith’s blade, and it is probably what has awakened other blades: the willingness of the BoM member to put the mission above anything that could hold them back. emotions are a “luxury” they cannot afford; kolivan doesn’t call emotions a “weakness” because he recognizes emotions for what they are: powerful feelings that can make someone selfish instead of selfless, upholding their own life above the lives that the galra have been threatening for several millennia. if they want to defeat the empire, then they can’t indulge in emotions that risk outweighing that mission.

krolia tells keith that she left keith once and will never leave him again — she, too, had chosen between family and mission, and now wants to meet in the middle. in retrospect, this sheds a light on how keith has always struggled with that balance: at one moment, he is scolding pidge for wanting to find her family over forming voltron; at the next moment, he is willing to give up on voltron because he wants to find shiro, his found family.

allura: keith — i know exactly how you feel. but our mission is bigger than any one individual. even those who are … completely irreplaceable.

keith: i know you’re right. it’s time to figure out how to reform voltron.

the black lion trusts keith in replacing shiro because shiro trusted keith in replacing shiro. keith has no visions of the black lion granting him power and glory. he only sees that he is filling the seat of someone he desperately wants back, and keith talks to black as though the lion and shiro are one soul: “i know you wanted this for me, shiro. but i’m not you. i can’t lead them like you. this one’s for you, shiro.”

when shiro does come back, keith sacrifices his own place on the team to make shiro black paladin again. rather than kick lance out of red and allura out of blue, keith turns his efforts towards somewhere he knows he can play a role: the BoM. he makes this sacrifice no matter how much he may miss the lions and the paladins and the teamwork and trust that they have begun to build together. as always, the mission comes first.

and allura isn’t wrong: if anyone knows how keith feels, it’s her.

allura: i don’t know if we should run to preserve what we have, or stay and risk everything. i want to fight, but the paladins of old are gone. i know what you would do.

hologram!alfor: i scattered the lions to keep them out of zarkon’s hands. you urged me to keep them and fight, but, for the greater good of protecting the universe, i chose to hide them.

allura: i think i understand.

hologram!alfor: no, daughter, you were right. i made a terrible mistake, one that cost the universe countless lives. forming voltron is the only way to stop zarkon. you must be willing to sacrifice everything to assemble the lions and correct my error.

allura doesn’t have the luxury of putting her grief above the mission. she has lost everything irreplaceable to her — her father, her planet, her people — and yet she doesn’t falter in putting herself out there to ensure that others don’t experience her pain. she ruthlessly trains the new paladins not out of a power trip, but because she understands the urgency of war; and it’s the same when shiro disappears and she has to push keith to step up to the plate, just as she had to for alfor.

it’s hard for her to let go of those leadership instincts when it’s her turn to pilot a lion. she’s used to flying the castle, creating wormholes, and calling the shots for the entire team — and while she doesn’t lose that role completely, it takes a trial and error period to realize that she can’t command blue as she would the castle. she knows that bonding with a lion is important, but as happened to lotor, it’s one thing to know something in theory, and a whole other thing to act it out in practise.

allura: nothing works! i’ve tried asking you nicely, and i’ve tried commanding you! what do you want from me? i can’t do this. everyone depends on me. the universe depends on me, but i can’t control everything. i need your help. guide me. i can’t do it alone.

allura accepts that she can’t fight on her own, and this may be why the blue lion accepts allura where the red lion didn’t. she did ask red for help, but because alfor piloted red, allura put double the pressure on herself in asking red to accept her: not because she wanted the glory of being her father, but because some part of her felt she could only follow alfor’s footsteps if she mirrored him in every way imaginable.

she still sometimes feels that pressure, fearing that she’ll never be the alchemist her father was, but by opening herself up to the support of others as she did to blue, the journey has become less lonely. the universe doesn’t rest on her shoulders alone. the WL trials again ask her to consider the balance between power and peace, and allura accepts the white lion’s energy into her heart — she sacrifices command and control. it’s about working together and trusting each other. how else will they save the universe from a constant cycle of fighting?

allura has the same awakening in accepting the help of the galra: the BoM, keith, and lotor.

allura to keith: i’m so sorry i misjudged you. you’ve proven it’s not what’s in your blood — it’s who you are that counts.

allura to lotor: what you did was for the greater good. and for many of us, proof of your intentions for peace.

despite her trauma, allura’s perspective on galra can be changed if they prove that they are fighting for the same cause that she is. it’s an extreme emotional risk — the first time she had a galra teammate, they betrayed voltron and killed her father and destroyed her entire culture. this cannot be understated, nor can the amount of strength it takes to put herself on the line for that vulnerability again and again. but from where allura’s standing, keith and lotor have proven — again and again — that they believe in voltron’s mission.

as of S5, allura and keith have a relationship of genuine trust. it’s been tested, such as when keith began prioritizing BoM missions over being the pilot of the black lion; but at the end of the day, keith has always done whatever it takes to fight the empire. they were both willing to leave the castle to find out if zarkon was tracking them, sacrificing their own safety for the safety of their team and the entire universe. keith was willing to put action over caution and infiltrate central command to finally defeat zarkon, earning allura’s turnaround in trusting him. they were both willing to sacrifice the chance to stay with their departed fathers, letting go of their holograms to maintain their mission. and allura was willing to reach out and offer keith a place in her “new family”, knowing what it is to lose your biological family and have to rebuild and reconnect.

keith doesn’t fault allura when she falls for lotor’s trap with the altean distress signal, and allura expresses condolences when keith loses regris, partially due to keith’s own risk-taking. keith has allura’s blessing in joining the BoM, knowing he’ll make them proud — and she acknowledges that the BoM have been instrumental in the fight against zarkon, a huge leap from her initial distrust in them and criticism of their caution. though they’ve parted ways for now, allura is similar to shiro in that she has made it clear that she wants keith to feel he can come back to them; that the team has faith and trust in him.

as of S5, allura and lotor have a relationship of tentative trust — “tentative” because it’s genuine on allura’s end, but lotor’s end is debatable. fandom seems 50/50 on it, which speaks to lotor’s complexity and how you can build a case for both. but these are the facts: lotor has communicated faith and support in allura’s abilities, urging her to be the person who can carry on the tradition of altean alchemy. honerva and alfor were alchemists, and zarkon and alfor were friends that fought alongside each other. can’t lotor and allura be the same, and rewrite their wrongs? everything lotor says is rooted in truth, even if there is a part of him that’s bending it to get the results that he wants. he and allura are both genuinely nostalgic for a time that no longer exists — as the new rulers of their royal families, they can understand each other in a way that few others can.

we can assume that lotor is using altean nostalgia for an ulterior motive, just as he used the altean distress signal to appeal to allura and get him the transreality comet. what he’s doing now is a more personal version of that plan, becoming friends with her and earning her trust and confidence. he says that he cannot revive altean alchemy without her, and allura boomerangs the same sentiment back at him: “i’m glad you’re here to help me now. i never would have gotten here without you.” this comes after lotor confides in her his reasons for being exiled, and his genuine despair at how he was powerless to stop zarkon. when allura later repeats that she couldn’t have unlocked her altean alchemy without lotor, he smooths over his frown with a smile and says that oriande was for her and not for him — she is the true alchemist.

alfor was once blinded by his compassion for zarkon, and allura may have that same blindness in her compassion — and empathy — for lotor. but the potential is there for them to have a future relationship without ulterior motives; to someday join together and restore altean culture and bring peace to the universe.

what about keith and lotor to complete the trifecta? as of S5, they have what i call a “wild card” relationship, and one of distant trust. it’s unclear if they’ve properly met in terms of being formally introduced — keith knows who lotor is, but lotor doesn’t seem to have been told that a former paladin (and one that he fought) is now a part-galra member of the BoM. they used to collide in battle when keith flew black and lotor was emperor pro tem; keith had immense distrust in lotor, doing everything he could to thwart him and his traps. but more recently, they’ve collided while saving each other — lotor unaware of who he was saving, but keith completely aware and doing the exact opposite of how he’d approached lotor before. lotor saved keith and the universe for his own political gain, but keith saved lotor because he now trusted him to be someone who could change the political tide.

i said this in my keitor meta for S3 + S4, but lotor saving keith had the potential to make keith do a turnaround in his trust of lotor, and S5 confirms this even if they never met afterwards. keith is still with the BoM, and their contact with lotor is indirect — lotor gives the paladins intel to pass on to kolivan, and kolivan reports back that it’s trustworthy. communications appear to stop after lotor kills zarkon, which is why keith doesn’t hear from them about kral zera — but it’s kral zera where he and lotor collide again, and it’s kral zera where keith saves lotor.

keith and lotor’s potential dynamic is a “wild card” because unlike their dynamics with allura, it’s galra-on-galra. prior to S5, many of us assumed that keith was a prime candidate for manipulation — he was part-galra like lotor and isolated from his former teammates like lotor, and if lotor wanted to deepen that wedge, he could have appealed to keith’s desire to belong by offering him a place alongside him. but as of S5, the tables have turned: it’s increasingly clear that keith is the galra that lotor pretends to be — that lotor finds it hard to be as the emperor’s son. keith refuses to be a prisoner of his own blood, knowing that galra blood doesn’t automatically make one loyal to zarkon or “just like” zarkon. he works with the BoM to take the empire down from the inside, and not just to shift its methods of power as lotor is doing with altean methods, but to dismantle its power and restore stability — hence the plan to blow up kral zera as the symbol of the first planet the galra conquered, along with the galra’s currently powerful leaders.

keith aborts that mission when shiro and lotor arrive — and the fact that keith lumps in lotor with shiro as “someone i want to save” is huge. but it’s logical: keith’s trust in lotor shifted once lotor executed the exact action keith was planning (destroying haggar’s bomb). seeing shiro ally himself with lotor is going to deepen that trust, even if keith is only viewing things from a distance. lotor is like a “cool/calculating” version of shiro: both have been pursued by zarkon for taking his former thrones (the empire’s + the black lion’s), and zarkon has mocked shiro and lotor for being “weaker” than him, stopping at nothing to eliminate them. and of course, both have been pursued by haggar and are currently being pursued by haggar, who through her magic tries to control them for her own agenda for power. lotor and shiro deal with this trauma by masking it with composure, and they make decisive and difficult choices to keep on surviving. keith has never lost trust in shiro, so it’s not out of the question that he’d trust lotor if he got to know him more personally — unless he saw the “cool/calculating” personality for what he used to see: someone cunning and chaotic. this may depend on how lotor responds to operation kuron: eliminate shiro like he eliminated narti, or help him and empathize with him (and therefore maintain keith’s trust)?

on the flipside, keith is like a “fiery/explosive” version of acxa — lotor’s former, and most devoted, general. less is known about acxa’s backstory, but since her introduction in the weblum, she has been mysteriously honorbound. keith says she’s “just like the rest of them” after she steals the scaultrite, but acxa remains different in that she doesn’t kill keith once she gets what she needs (and she pays her debt by saving him at kral zera). she reminds her teammates not to kill anyone, but to get the intel they need and get out. like keith, she encourages her team to stay efficient and dedicated to the mission, and like keith, she is intensely loyal to her leader; she wants to trust that he’ll protect them, and she needs to be convinced to overthrow him for her own gain. even then, her decision to do so is “for narti”, and she can’t help but insist that “no one is replacing lotor” when zethrid and ezor muse about usurping him as emperor (very keith-esque in how he responded to anyone replacing shiro as black paladin). what separates them is that acxa maintains her composure where keith’s emotions are often crystal clear; but they have both served as trusted right-hands to their leaders, and so it again makes you wonder what would happen if there was a mix-and-match: lotor meeting keith, a foil to acxa, and keith meeting lotor, a foil to shiro.

if allura represents the altean side of lotor that he on some level wishes he could embody, then keith may become that for lotor’s galra side. his WL trials demonstrate that he still has a long way to go on the path to inner peace and universal peace; allura and keith are already moving ahead.

as of S5, allura is connecting more and more to alfor and her altean heritage. as of S5, keith has just been given the opportunity to connect to krolia and his galra heritage. but as of S5, lotor has been denied the secrets of oriande and seems to be in denial about haggar being honerva — if he’s admitted it to himself at all, he sees them as separate entities. discovering that haggar is essentially an “amplified” version of the mother he holds on a pedestal could be something that destroys him, or it could be something that allows him to finally move forward and balance these two important sides of himself.

there’s nothing inherently evil about seeking victory or seeking knowledge — it’s about why and how you seek those things, and allura and keith are proof that choosing the honorable path is possible. for inner peace, they could use a little of lotor’s “selfishness” (not sacrificing their own emotions), and for universal peace, lotor could use a little of their “selflessness” (not sacrificing the safety of others). even if you theorize that lotor wants to go through the rift for “selfless" reasons — quintessence to uncorrupt haggar, as his parents may have wanted quintessence to save lotor’s life — there is still an element of selfishness in seeking power that can save one person at the cost of endangering the entire universe.

whatever happens in S6 and beyond, it’s safe to say that keith/lotor/allura all have compelling arcs about the trials of repeating history + shaping their own history. i’m super excited to see how these arcs continue to parallel and/or intersect!

#leithal #vld keith #keith kogane #vld lotor #prince lotor #vld allura #princess allura #keith and allura #keith and lotor #allura and lotor #more chara-centric than shippy but tag it as kallura or keitor or lotura if you want! #vld meta #long post #add-on: #keith and shiro

[ohfreckle]

Fic: Either Way You Turn (Malec; Explicit)

We all have our things. Alec's thing is Magnus' suspenders.

Twitter fic. This is the shirt that started it.

What’s wrong with black jeans and a black shirt?

Alec drops onto the couch, squirming and digging his head against the back. He had plans for the evening. A couple of drinks, a game of pool, building up the anticipation for a more private kind of play.

They haven’t had time for each other for over a week now. A sleepy kiss over breakfast, a tired kiss before they crawl into bed at night is all they’ve managed, and it’s not enough.

The loft hasn’t been empty since Magnus kicked Lorenzo’s incompetent ass out of New York and reclaimed his title. Alec is happy for him and grateful; he hasn’t seen Magnus so vibrant and full of life in weeks. There’s a new spring to his step, a new glint in his eyes. Magnus enjoys how the same people who couldn’t drop him fast enough now come groveling, even if he’s good at hiding it. He’s brimming with his recovered power, and it’s fucking hot.

“Magnus, we’re late!” Alec looks at his phone and sighs. He appreciates the results of Magnus dressing up. He gets it. Magnus wants to look his very best to let everyone see who’s the High Warlock. But over an hour for a night at the Hunters Moon, really?

“How can we be late?” Magnus’ voice is slightly muffled. “It’s not as if we have reservations.”

“Magnus, come on. You look fine.”

Magnus looks gorgeous in everything. Whatever he chooses to wear, Alec is sure he’ll like it and will love to take it off him later.

“Fine, Alexander? I must be losing my touch.”

When the bedroom door finally opens, Alec forgets to breathe. Magnus’ outfit matches his own: black pants, black shirt, but that’s where the similarities end.

Magnus twirls, the light catching on the subtle tone-in-tone pattern of his pants. He went with suspenders today. They’re hugging his hips, dangling softly against his thighs when he walks further into the living room.

“You like it, then?” Magnus asks when Alec opens his mouth, but not a single sound comes out.

“That’s an understatement.” Alec’s voice is rough, a little unsteady, but he can’t mind when Magnus’ eyes widen with pleasure when he hears the raw feeling in it.

“Oh? Tell me more, Alexander.” A low purr that makes Alec’s stomach flutter.

“You can’t go out like that,” Alec rasps.

Magnus only quirks his lips and raises a brow.

Good, offending Magnus’ sartorial choices is the last thing Alec wants. He drinks Magnus in, lets his eyes linger on the bandana wrapped around his neck before his gaze drifts lower. Magnus is wearing a knitted long-sleeved shirt. It looks silky, the knitwear so delicate Alec can see his nipples pushing against the fabric, a hint of brown skin shimmering through the stitches. The sleeves are too long, coming down over Magnus’ knuckles to mid-palm. It adds a false modesty that punches Alec low in the gut. “Everyone will stare at you,” he says and doesn’t bother to keep the hunger from his voice.

Everyone will want Magnus, and Alec doesn’t share.

“And you will know it’s only for you,” Magnus says, a catch in his voice, his fingers tapping against his leg.

“It better be.”

“Ah, have you seen my ear cuff?” Magnus asks and suddenly starts for the kitchen, a blatant attempt to dispel the thick tension between them.

It’s not working.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alec grabs one of Magnus’ suspenders when Magnus walks by the couch and twisting it in his fist he tugs hard. The motion stops Magnus dead in his tracks, and he pivots caught by surprise, tumbling into Alec’s lap with a low grunt.

Just where Alec wants him.

“I was serious,” Alec says, brushing a kiss against Magnus’ lips. “I’ll run out of arrows if I shoot everyone who looks at you.”

“Mmmh, that’s hot.” Magnus twists, sliding one leg over Alec’s so he can straddle him.

Like this Magnus is slightly taller, and Alec has to angle his head up for another kiss. Magnus opens up for him with a groan, slicking his tongue against Alec’s. The kiss immediately turns urgent, heavy, heat flaring with every nip and slide of lips.

The shirt is as soft as it looks when Alec slides his hands under it. Decadent and luxurious, just like Magnus. Perfect. He runs his fingers over Magnus’ hips, petting and trailing higher until he reaches warm skin. Just this simple contact is heady, tension coiling low in his gut when Magnus moans into the kiss. There’s a catch in Magnus’ breath, a tremor of excitement rippling under his skin where Alec strokes his hands higher.

“Yes,” Magnus gasps, breaking the kiss and arching into Alec’s touch when he reaches his nipples. “Please.”

“Like this?” Alec pitches his voice low as he draws light circles and feels the skin pebble under his fingertips. “Or this?” He takes both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers before Magnus can answer, catching his lips in another kiss.

“Please,” is all that Magnus manages, but it goes straight to Alec’s cock. Fuck, he wants.

“I could see these from across the room,” Alec rasps, pinching first one, then the other nipple until they’re stiff and hard. “Flaunting your tits like that…you know exactly how hot you are, don’t you?”

“Alec…” Magnus lets out a harsh breath, arching and trembling under Alec’s hands. He’s hard, rocking his hips against the heavy bulge of Alec’s cock. “Don’t stop…,” he pleads when Alec slides his hands down and brackets his hips, his eyes glittering molten gold.

Nobody is going to play pool tonight.

“I’ve barely started,” Alec murmurs, drawing small circles against Magnus' skin right over his waistband. It draws a shiver from Magnus, the echo of it prickling down Alec's spine. He may have barely started, but, as always when their passion flares unexpected and all-consuming, Alec's body is already thrumming with need.

Part of Alec wants to tell Magnus to magic off their clothes and fuck him quick and hard, but that would be just enough to take off the edge. He wants so much he can feel it like a leaden weight in his stomach, a craving for Magnus that can only be banked for the moment but never entirely goes away, simmering under his skin until the next spark stokes the flame.

“Alexander…” Magnus' voice is thick, the blatant desire on his face mirroring Alec’s.

“Shh, I’ve got you!” Alec misses the warmth of Magnus' skin as soon as he lets go, but there's so much more for him to explore.

He starts with Magnus' hands, catching them in his own between their bodies and exhaling hotly against his palms. Magnus goes still, his entire body locking tight with anticipation. Alec knows if he looks up he'll find him biting his lips, pupils blown so wide only slits of gold remain. It would be his undoing, and so he keeps his eyes firmly trained on Magnus' hands, bending down to press a kiss against one palm, then the other.

The second time Alec lingers a little longer, his lips hot against skin and wool, snaking out his tongue to trace along Magnus' palm right before it disappears under his sleeve.

The third time Alec sucks, tasting sweat, heat, and desire.

“Did you enchant this shirt?” Alec is only half joking. "It drives me insane," he murmurs, licking a wide swath over Magnus' palm and up to his fingers that makes them both tremble.

“This shirt, and your damn suspenders.”

“You know what they say about clothes,” Magnus laughs, more breath than sound. "It's all about who wears them." He tugs his hands free and frames Alec's face with them, leaning down for a kiss. Alec meets him halfway, eyes sliding shut at the feel of Magnus' tongue tracing the seam of his lips before he pushes inside. Alec lets him in without conscious thought, straining up for more.

Nothing is enough with Magnus.

“You're right about that,” Alec says when the need for air finally forces them apart. He catches Magnus’ bottom lip one last time and drops his head against his chest, settling his hands on the small of Magnus’ back, feeling out the dips and valleys between hard muscle and soft skin. Magnus' arms come around his shoulders immediately, cradling him close. "Doesn't help though. I still don't know if I want to fuck you while you wear nothing but that shirt, or if I should just tug your pants down and have you."

“Anything you want, darling, as long as it happens soon.” Magnus’ fingers are hot against Alec's neck, slipping inside his collar, his nails blunt against Alec's shoulders.

“What do you want?” It's yours hangs unsaid in the air. There isn't a single pleasure Alec would deny him.

“Suck my nipples,” Magnus breathes, already curling his body over Alec's as if he’s been waiting for him to ask.

The request punches Alec low in the gut, sends his blood roaring. How didn’t he know?Before he can even think about it his mouth closes over one nipple and he sucks, hard and slow, pulling it into his mouth and stroking the small nub with the tip of his tongue. Magnus' heart hammers against his lips, light and fast, and so he does it again, adding a hint of teeth to it.

“Fuck, Alec, like this!” Magnus sounds wrecked, his voice trembling as he arches and pushes his chest against Alec's mouth. Alec can't breathe, but he doesn't care, not when Magnus is squirming in his lap frantic with pleasure, offering his nipples and rolling his hips, trying to push closer when there isn't an inch of space between them. Everything is hot and wet, Alec’s dick pulsing in his pants, the thin shirt soaked with his saliva. He can taste Magnus' skin under the wool in his mouth, shifting until he can pull Magnus' other nipple between his lips.

This time he bites down hard, drawing a harsh sob from Magnus. Alec ruts into him with a muffled groan, hands dipping below his waistband, his fingers spread, greedy to feel as much skin as possible. Magnus grips his hair and wrenches back his head, and then Magnus comes down on him and takes his mouth in a searing kiss.

Magic crackles along Alec’s scalp and slicks his fingers, Magnus’ breath hard and fast as he pushes his free hand between them and rips his belt open. “Do it,” he gasps into Alec’s mouth, twisting the fingers in his hair. “Alec…” He pushes Alec back against the back the couch, shaky with excitement under Alec’s hands.

Arousal melts into a white-hot coil in Alec’s gut when he strokes over the swear-damp dip at the top of Magnus’ ass. Magnus pulls back when Alec parts his crease with his fingertips, sucking in a shuddering breath, and fuck, Alec’s skin burns with the hunger in his glittering golden eyes. He watches them slide half-shut when he strokes deeper, rubbing over fever-hot skin and the tight clench of Magnus’s hole, shocking a gasp from him when he pushes in, barely more than a tease. Alec doesn’t move, lets Magnus feel the burn and swallows his groan in a deep kiss.

“More,” Magnus bites into the kiss, pushing back to coax Alec’s finger deeper, murmuring a string of filthy encouragement and pleas as he rocks in Alec’s lap, asking for deeper, harder, and need your cock. Every intention Alec had to take it slow crumbles with the tight clench of Magnus’ hole around his finger. His skin feels too tight, cock wet at the slit where it presses against his underwear, his balls already full and heavy. He gets lost in the slick slide of their tongues, the rasp of denim against denim, Magnus’ cry when he pushes in a second finger.

“You feel…fuck, Magnus,” Alec gasps, heat spilling down his neck and over his shoulders when Magnus clenches down on him, his entire body pulling taut, ready to snap.

“Get on with it,” Magnus rasps. He rears back, steadying himself with a hand on Alec’s shoulders, taking Alec’s fingers down to the knuckles. “Gonna be so tight for you.” He grabs his cock through his briefs and ruts into his own hand, and god, he’s never more beautiful than this, cheeks flaming and lips bitten raw, ruthlessly chasing his pleasure. Love and need splashed all over his face, no shame, no pretense, just a wide-open greediness that shakes Alec to the core.

Want clenches in Alec’s stomach, fierce and burning, echoing what he sees in Magnus’ face. He pulls his hands free and swallows Magnus’ cry of loss, ignores the raw, over-sensitized rub of his cock in his pants and pushes up from the couch. For a moment they almost stumble, until Magnus wraps his legs around Alec and settles his weight against Alec’s hips.

They make it to the door that leads to the balcony, but barely. Magnus lets out a little squeak when his back hits the lattice-frame, and they both laugh into yet another kiss as they steady themselves, tongues stroking deep and hands wandering because the thought of not touching for a even second is unbearable.

It’s dark outside, Alec can see his face reflected in the glass. “Turn around, I want to see you,” he nips against Magnus’ lips and misses the squeeze of his legs as soon as Magnus unwinds them from around his hips.

Magnus turns, his palms slapping against the glass, dragging sweaty fingerprints over the clean surface as he braces himself and pushes back with an impatient roll of his hips. Alec swears and fumbles with his fly in his haste to get his dick out, hissing with relief when he finally pushes the waistband of his briefs under his balls and wraps a hand around his hard length. He gives himself a few hard pulls, tugging Magnus’ pants and underwear over his ass with his free hand. As much as he relishes the idea of fucking Magnus in nothing but that shirt, neither of them has the patience to bother with pants and boots right now.

“Lube,” Alec says, dragging a thumb down Magnus’ cleft, dipping into his hole when his hand goes slick. Hot, tight, fuck. Alec’s cock throbs when Magnus goes boneless and clenches down with a sigh of relief, begging with his whole body.

“Get in me!”

The ghost of a touch strokes down Alec’s spine and mimics his touch, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as it slithers even further down and wraps around his heavy sac.

“Then don’t tease,” Alec warns, pulling the bandana from around Magnus’ throat. The thick vein in Magnus’ neck pulses when Alec fastens his mouth over it and sucks a mark into his skin, echoing the rush of blood and arousal in Alec’s body. “Want to feel you around me.” He withdraws and slots himself against Magnus, chest pressed to Magnus' broader back. Alec's cock fits perfectly into the crease of his ass. With a slow roll of his hips he gives himself over to the drag of skin against skin, fucks the tight space between Magnus’ cheeks.

Alec feels brittle with want and the squeeze of anticipation in his gut, the need to take and claim. Dropping his forehead on Magnus’ shoulder, he looks down, his breath rushing out of him at the faint jiggle of Magnus’ cheeks every time he pushes back. The head of his cock looks obscene nestled against the top of Magnus’s cleft, flushed and pulsing precome at the slit.

“Fuck, your ass…” Alec breathes. He steps back, cups Magnus’ cheeks and thumbs him open as wide as he can, the heat inside him flaring as he watches the soft furl of Magnus’ hole puckering every time his cockhead bumps against it. The answering groan sounds like it’s punched out of Magnus, along with a ragged please he shudders out, quivering from neck to tailbone.

The first push into that wet heat is nothing but liquid heat roaring through Alec’s veins, tight and hot and home. Magnus contracts around his crown with a low sound that sends a wave of possessive pride shivering down Alec’s neck and along his spine. He’s the one who makes Magnus lose control, the one who can wind him up into a frenzy of pleasure. The only one.

“Let me in, love,” Alec murmurs, slipping a hand in Magnus’s hair and turning his face so he can catch his lips in a kiss. Magnus is wound tight, overeager, kisses back messily, groaning when Alec sucks on his tongue, and it takes a long moment until he relaxes enough for Alec to slide into him.

“Hard,” Magnus gasps, a cracked whisper, high and needy. He wrenches himself away, bracing his hands against the door. “Need you.”

Alec shudders, electric pleasure trickling down his spine and curling sharp and deep in his belly. Lust and desire are threatening to pull him under when he pulls out and thrusts back in, tucking himself deep inside. Something in him snarls when Magnus’ whole body jolts with the impact, a deep, burning satisfaction coiling in his gut.

Magnus arches his back languidly, widening his stance before he pushes back, his hole spasming, trying to keep Alec’s cock inside. The harsh staccato of Magnus’ breath rings loud in the room, suffusing Alec from head to with heat when he clenches tight and works Alec’s cock until there’s nothing Alec can do but give himself over to the hot thrum of sensation in his blood.

He fucks Magnus hard and deliberate, pulls him back onto his cock every time he snaps his hips into him in hard and fast fucks, lets him feel the heavy drag of his cock inside. The air around them is thick with heat, sweat, and sex, the squeak of skin against glass and the rough drag of nails on cotton. Magnus’ suspenders are swinging wildly, jarring against Alec’s thighs, and he smacks them away, fingers tangling—

Oh.

Every idle thought he’s had about those suspenders comes rushing back and sends Alec’s pulse racing. He winds the length of them around his palms and pulls, building a quick and hard rhythm. If he bends his knees slightly, Alec can fuck into Magnus and up, startling a hoarse cry from him with the heavy drag of his cockhead over his prostate.

Nothing is important but driving his pleasure into Magnus’ body, the crash of need that thrums like a live wire between them. Want you. Need you. Yes, there, there… Fuck, so tight. Alec’s entire body seizes with it, his arousal spiraling higher every time Magnus throbs around him.

In the glass he sees Magnus’ reflection, eyes golden and blazing, hand wrapped around his cock and jerking himself roughly. His mouth drops open around another cry of pleasure, for Alec, and that’s it. Alec comes in thick, hot pulses, like a rope unknotting, pleasure steamrolling over him in tidal waves that leave him shaking and weak. He rides it out, unable to stop moving, drawing Magnus’ orgasm out with hard thrusts where he needs it. Magnus’ spine bends, and he comes with a soundless gasp, streaking semen over his hand and the glass in front of him.

They stay like that, too shaky to move. Alec’s dick is still pulsing with the aftershocks of his pleasure, sliding wetly in his own come. Eventually, Alec finds the energy to untangle his hands from Magnus’ suspenders and wrap his arms around Magnus’ middle, mouthing I love you against his nape, heart lurching when Magnus covers his hands with one of his own.

For a second Alec entertains the idea of buttoning Magnus up and dragging him to the Hunters Moon, fucked out and ass dripping, for everyone to see. But the night is still young, and he still wants to fuck Magnus in nothing but that shirt.

They have time.

#malec #malec fic #malec fanfiction #shadowhunters #My writing #saveshadowhunters

[persephassax]

I hope you feel better, Monday always gets us all.

o my god. okay, so i started writing this. and it’s ballooned impossibly and is now closing in on 3000 words. So I’m going to give you an excerpt of the trouble Hux has managed to get into thus far. 

Hux stopped outside the training room the security system had indicated was currently in use by the Finalizer’s resident wannabe Sith Lord. He took a deep breath, gave his unsettled insides a firm talking to, and straighten his uniform before tapping his override code into the door pad. 

The door slid open and revealed, to Hux’s horror, a Kylo Ren in the middle of an intense routine. His usual garb cast aside revealed those broad shoulders to be pale and dotted with moles and sweat. His pants were tight along his hips and thighs, showing the muscles that bunched and contracted as he moved through the steps of the forms. Hux could see corded forearms as Ren adjusted his grip and swung his saber around in a vicious cut that could have easily sliced a man in two. The long dark hair, that Hux had only caught brief glimpses of under the man’s ever-present hood on the rare occasion he saw him without his mask, was pulled up and away from his face, putting a vulnerable looking nape on display. 

Hux’s stomach threatened to riot with his heart cheering it on, beating double time in his chest. Panic blanked out his thoughts, base instinct kicking in demanding flight in the face of this display of power. Before he could banish the thought, the door slid shut behind him with a little chime announcing his presence. 

Ren turned around, saber held up at the ready. When he caught sight of Hux he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He kept the saber ignited but held it relaxed, in one hand, as he wiped his brow with the back of the other. He licked his lips and wiped the sweat dotting his upper brow with the edge of his palm. 

“What do you want, General?” he asked, voice startlingly human without the interruption of the vocoder. 

“I received another damage report, Ren,” Hux replied, proud for the way his voice remained steady and the note of disdain dripped from each syllable. Brendol Hux may have been worth little as a father and a man, but he had certainly taught his son how to keep his emotions from betraying him. “You cannot be allowed to continue to behave in this way. I am here to put a stop to your little tantrums.”

“Oh, really?” Ren asked with an insolent smirk. He extinguished his saber and clipped it to his belt. 

“Yes, really,” Hux replied, with a sniff and a further straightening of his already straightened shoulders. 

In two strides, Ren closed the distance between them, pressing into Hux’s space until he was forced to step back or find Ren plastered along his front. The smell of his body, warm and damp with exertion, wafted into Hux’s nose. Heat rolled off Ren in waves. Hux’s heart swooped into his stomach and then lodged itself in his throat. 

“Do you presume to command me, Hux?” Ren hissed, his hands coming up to bracket Hux against the wall, his voice next to Hux’s ear, breath tickling over the sensitive shell. 

“I am responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of this ship and everyone on it,” Hux replied, slightly hoarse. “If you compromise the integrity of that directive I will take it upon myself to see you disciplined.”

Ren let out a low chuckle, still too close to Hux’s face.

“I’d like to see you try,” he said as he pulled away. “Now get out. I’ll have to start from the beginning due to your interruption.”

Hux flushed as that warmth pulled away from him. Ren turned away from him without hesitation, showing him the broad expanse of his back, unafraid of the supposed vulnerability. Thoroughly dismissed, still on edge, his anxious feeling had spread out from his stomach into a hot, pulsing awareness of every place Ren’s body had nearly touched his. Ear aflame from Ren’s whispers. The epicenter of that anxious coil moved from under his sternum to sit low in his gut. He felt brittle, his breath shallow as he exited the room.

This would not do.

To be continued…

#kylux #kylux ficlet #star wars #my writing #my work #chillanddrinkcoffee

[tipsycad147]

FULL HARVEST MOON – SEPTEMBER, – WISDOM FOUND IN THE FALLING LEAVES

The Harvest Moon has always been surrounded with a bit a romanticism and myth because it appears somewhat larger generally than other full moons and has spectacular coloration.  This is a result of the tilt of the planet and atmospheric reflections.  The name originates from long ago when the world was agrarian in nature.  Daylight was critical to our forefathers who worked the lands, and it increased in value as the summer came to and end.  The bright light of the Harvest Moon allowed growers to harvest into the evening hours and increased their success rate for storing a successful crop.

Some other names for this full moon are the Corn Moon, Wine Moon, Elk Call Moon, and Barley Moon.  Full moons always have some spiritual significance associated with them, and this one is no different.  It may have different meanings to different groups, but one recurring theme is that this full moon signifies “a new beginning,” which to some is a welcome change after many consecutive months of planetary retrogrades, eclipses, and other celestial events.

What You’ll Need For This Harvest Moon Ritual

This ritual is designed for a group and is best performed outside around a generous bonfire (bonfires just seem to make everything better)

What items you’ll need to collect for this ritual (as written)

Four quarter candles – yellow (east), red (south), green (north), blue (west) Seasonal Altar Cloth Leaves to decorate the altar and circle area Pencils and paper Cakes or other seasonal baked goods Seasonal Beer and Ale to share Goddess Candle (White)

Any portion of the ritual that is bracketed by <> symbols should be understood as instructional notes and not to be spoken aloud.

Ritual Begins

I cast this circle round and round from earth to sky, from sky to ground. I conjure now this sacred space outside of time, outside of place. The circle is cast, we are between the worlds.

Calling the Harvest Moon Quarters

East Hail and welcome to the Great Spirits of the East, the birthplace of the invisible power of AIR – Your presence has no boundaries and we feel your power continuously; we seek your confidence to help navigate through the challenges that life presents each and every day <light yellow candle>

South Hail and welcome to the Great Spirits of the South, where the great forges of the universe spread the immense light and heat of the element of FIRE – As we make preparations for the coming winter, we seek the certainty of all your gifts and return them with humility and praise.  <light red candle>

West Hail and welcome to the Great Spirits of the West, the home for the never-ending energy created by the motion of WATER – Without you, life would not exist, and no words are capable of properly giving thanks for this great gift we constantly receive, we are blessed. <light blue candle>

North Hail and welcome to the Great Spirits of the North, the direction from which our EARTH calls it birthplace; Our eyes are enlightened by the beauty presented to every living being; as we sow, so shall we reap, by your will and by your protections.  <light green candle>

Great Goddess, it is you who gives life to all things through your precious spark of hope, happiness, and perpetual healing.  By your grace the seeds rise from the soil and provide food.  By your vision the pathway to enlightenment is revealed.  By your love, we are shown how to love one another without condition.  Great Goddess, we humbly ask for your presence tonight under the light of this full Harvest Moon. <light Goddess candle>

Wisdom Found in the Falling Leaves

The Harvest Moon is indeed a way point for those seeking a fresh start or new beginning.  After a long season of toil and possibly hardship, we’ve nearly arrived at the finish line.  The days are growing shorter rapidly and thoughts are focusing on the holidays ahead as well as the impending winter.  Many are experiencing a similar event happening in their spiritual lives; loose ends are being tied up, worries are being tucked away, and a new page is being turned.  If you are feeling stressed, remember that the full moon is a time each month when global energy peaks and then releases in a cosmic sigh.  It’s the ultimate universal deep breath of relaxation.  Stop and take a moment to breathe deeply.  Allow your lungs to fill with the cool night air and let the power of the elements wash away any hesitations or worries.  Shake off any feelings of worry you may be harboring, even if only temporary for this night.

Before we enter into the cleansing phase of tonight’s ceremony, let’s take a few moments to learn from nature.  Specifically finding wisdom in the falling leaves.  As we give thanks over the next month for the bountiful harvests, all around us, leaves will be falling.  As we watch our pumpkins change from green to orange and our last crops turn from green to tan, all around us leaves will be falling.  As we spend the few remaining hours of evening sun tidying up our flower beds and storing our equipment, all around us leaves will be falling.  They are everywhere and yet seemingly nowhere at all.  They are like so many parts of our lives; present but unnoticed.  Imagine if only for a moment that instead of focusing on the big things, we took time to focus on the lesser things.  Imagine just doing nothing else except watching the leaves slowly dance and spin along the currents of air, as the gently fall to earth.  Our minds would gather the beauty of the many colors and our senses would be on high alert to the crackling and crunching.

If we go further and look up at the mighty oaks and the majestic maples, we see the empty or nearly-empty branches in their skeletal form.  Once plump and full of life, the great forests are preparing for their period of dormancy and self-reflection.  Soon icy winds and blowing snow will gild the landscape and thoughts will pivot to many things other than the falling leaves and the naked trees.  But before we make that leap, it’s important to listen to the lesson the falling leaves and the naked trees are speaking to us.  Each leaf represents a part of the tree from which it fell.  Each one has a uniqueness like no other.  Multiple shapes, sizes, and colors change and then change again until the tree finally releases it’s hold on the stem and allows the leaf to float away into the abyss.  The tree is cleansing itself of that which it no longer needs in preparation of a new beginning in the spring.

Some of you may be thinking that the leaves are very important to the tree and it would perish without them, so why let them go?  It’s a great question and one that allows for several great answers and discussions.  The leaves served their purpose during the summer; catching rain water, sunlight, and helping the tree survive, but now they are no longer useful.  Notice the similarity to your own life.  Each month we gather to rid ourselves of things which we no longer need; they are our falling leaves.  Some of those things were quite useful, but if no longer needed they only take up space.  The tree releases them and holds the space for new growth when it is ready, just as we cleanse the cobwebs from our minds and bodies and refill those spaces with something useful and productive.  And just like the great trees, we hold the power to regrow new leaves when they become once again necessary.

We shouldn’t be fearful of holding on to things that we “might” need again in the future.  The tree teaches us to look ahead and plan for our future needs rather than save up a bunch of dead and dried out things from our past; even if those things were once useful.  As human beings, we cleanse our bodies, minds, and spiritual selves, and with practice we are able to fill those spaces in with provisions for our self-growth and future happiness.  But one area we all struggle with is holding on to things based on “what could be” or other uncertainties.  The lesson of the falling leaves shows us that we need to be focused on realities versus possibilities, remembering that we are in control of our future plans.  The tree is looking ahead, taking care of itself during the long winter months, and preparing for a new beginning.  And yes, maybe a storm will arise and break off a limb.  And if that happens, the tree adapts and changes to meet that challenge.  The tree is always prepared for difficulty, but it doesn’t make it part of it’s plans.

Is your tree prepared to shed its’ leaves?  Are you prepared for unexpected problems but not allowing them to control your life?  Do you have a plan for your future self and are you ready to exercise it when the time comes?  Now is the time to broaden your thinking and also to stop being afraid of letting things go.  Leaves are an integral part of life for a tree, and each year they show confidence and clarity of their own destiny by releasing them without fear.  Can each of us say the same thing?  Or are we letting something that isn’t part of the equation, somehow become part of the final answer?  Each useless thing we hold onto, only ties up a space that could otherwise be filled with something that helps move us forward.  So tonight, before we commence in our monthly cleansing through burning session, take time to think about the wisdom of the falling leaves and the great rewards found in overcoming our fears.

<Offer participants pencil & paper to write down anything they wish to permanently banish from their lives – then allow time for each person to approach the fire and burn those notes or any other items they have brought into the circle>

On this Harvest Full Moon, we must remember that cleaning and releasing is only half of the job.  Do not allow negative energy to refill the spaces you’ve created.  Trade the bad for something better; something enlightening and pure.  Leave here with a smile on your face, the understanding that there is more to life than just existing.  Stop sitting on the sidelines and engage with the things that take existence to living.  Blessed Be!

Giving Thanks

Before we close the circle, I’d like to take a moment to offer thanks.  We find ourselves surrounded by all that we’ve harvested, the jellies and jams we’ve preserved, the herbs we’ve dried and tinctured, the piles of logs awaiting our fires, and the pies and corn in our freezers.  Mother Earth has provided all that we need

<Have everyone in the circle join hands and say with you>

“We gather tonight by the light of this Harvest Moon, to celebrate the season, and rejoice.  We remember that the harvest was life to our ancestors.  We offer thanks for our many blessings.  May the next turn of the Wheel bring us love and compassion, abundance and prosperity, fertility and life.  As the moon above, so the earth below.”

<Go around the circle, have each person share one thing they are thankful for and something they are looking forward to in the coming month.>

<Take a moment to reflect on the bounty of the season. When everyone has spoken, pass the ales, pass the cakes and share stories.>

Closing the Harvest Moon Circle

Power of earth, we offer our eternal thanks now and forever into the future for all that you provide <extinguish green candle>

Power of water, wash away all that has anchored us to a mundane life and let us swim in your energy <extinguish blue candle>

Power of fire, do not forsake our needs for light and heat as we watch the days grow shorter and the nights colder <extinguish red candle>

Power of air, stir up the falling leaves as a continual reminder that we need to release that which no longer serves us and to not fear the loss <extinguish yellow candle>

Great goddess, we thank you for your abundance, your wisdom and the unconditional love shared with us this night in our sacred space <extinguish Goddess Candle>

The circle is open but never broken!

Merry meet

Merry part

And merry meet again

By  Thegypsy

https://www.thegypsythread.org/full-harvest-moon-september-2018/

[david5209669]

Week 12 Studio Tutorial – Photography

Task:

Part 1: The 2 hour photo challenge Your are on photographic assignment! You have been dropped into the UNSW Campus from far afield and have been asked to put together a photo essay that captures life on campus. Your photo essay will feature in an upcoming edition of a prominent magazine and you need to supply a selection of 6 amazing images. The shoot deadline is tight - the shots are be taken today, within a two hour window.

Part 2: Editing and Post production In the next few days, you must then edit your shots to select the best series of 6 using Adobe Bridge, enhance them in Adobe Camera RAW / Photoshop and post them on your blog by Sunday midnight. Your final edit must include:

A portrait (preferably of a complete stranger)

Something from the built environment

Something from the natural environment

An interesting detail

ORIGINAL IMAGES-

-portrait/candid photography

-natural environment/street photography

-natural environment photography

-built environment/street photography

-‘natural’ environment meets ’built’ environment (not the faculty) photography

-interesting detail/ ‘natural’ environment meets ’built’ environment (not the faculty) photography

-street photography

-street photography

EDITED IMAGES-

AIM-

For this image i was trying to go for that b&w film street photography style by adding some strong contrast between the background and jumper and adding noise to the image. The blank expression, clutching of the phone and gazing into the distance at something we cant see, as well as his gesture of having his arms folded in to compact his ‘personal space/bubble add a mysterious feel to the image as well as showing a disconnect and loneliness facing whatever lies past the darker half of the image (perhaps zooming out and making him smaller would’ve furthered that disconnect from the world and loneliness however the background cut off if i cropped any higher). During year 12 i had purchased my first camera cos i wanted to start with film; a Nikon FE (the poor mans F3) and unfortunately I’ve only shot multiple rolls of colour film, but this shot and further on below, my other two “street” photography (loose way to describe them) shots are making me more interested in purchasing some b&w film (maybe after i try out some cinestill 800 film too).

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT- 

with this image i probably would've benefited from brightening up his face to capture his expression more but i pulled back the red exposure in my HSL sliders to darken the background and make his jumper pop and that pulled his face back as well and i wasn't too bothered going in separately

the head room is a bit too close in my opinion however was only placed like that so the crop would have him on the third and the pattern background would fill the whole screen

coming one or two steps to the left to capture his gaze may have created more interest or perhaps as it is the emotionless face staring into the distance of something not depicted in the image is enough 

AIM-

Just another sad teal and orange edit, I was trying to create more visual interest in the tree and figure staring up at the tree, I simply saw the moment as she was walking towards us, saw the tree added some form of visual interest and tried to capture her walking and gestural actions facing the tree. Unfortunately as soon as she saw the cameras she did a U-turn.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

perhaps stop using photo edit cliches (but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it)

capture the image with the same composition or similar variant if I had more time to plan the shot, but where shes walked closer to really see her facial expression and walking motion (which couldn't happen cos she turned away)

somehow isolate parts of the image more 

bracket my exposures or just bring it down to retain the sky detail (or maybe white looks nice, I crushed the whites a tad so it wouldn't blend with the Tumblr feed background)

AIM-

In this picture I simply wanted to capture a perspective not many people think about or see during a normal day and I wanted to further contrast the trees and natural environment by having a building fill the left side to show people that its okay to be part of that world but there’s beauty all around and sometimes all it takes is looking up. Of course to further this again i warmed up the image quite a bit and shifted the greens and yellows to a nice red and orange to create a more beautiful, deep and rich colour.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

perhaps better composition and having a distinct gap between all the trees or more of the building on the screen

exposing lower to capture more detail in the trees and sky although quite a bit was pulled out compared to the original

AIM- 

Another teal and orange edit, in this image i was simply captured by the sun setting but as i was walking noticed the building on the right and the use of reflections in an image was really interesting to me so i tried capturing the built environment faculty in the reflection, the warm glow of the setting sun and the posing figure was a bonus i waited for to walk in the frame.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

perhaps if the figure was standing closer or there just wasn't such a dark object behind him so his head wouldn't blend in with the background and he could stand out more as a visual element

AIM-

when I walked up the building overlooking the main walkway, instead of capturing the cliche walkway photo itself (although a crowd walking with a bit of a longer exposure would’ve been cool- something Hans captured) I noticed there were about 4 or 5 cranes all lined up along the skyline. Unfortunately from the position I was in i couldn’t capture that and even this image was a bit of a cheeky edit to get a whole crane as seen in the original having a massive object in the way. i wanted the built man-made environment to come out and above the natural environment (trees on the right) and to emphasise that i simply increased the blacks until the only colour was sky to which i desaturated the blues and added orange in the overall tone.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

the Photoshop is a bit dodgy, it was a two minute fix with the spot healing brush and looks a little unnatural with the ripples

AIM-

in this picture i noticed a light on the ground and these colourful leaves spread all over the floor so decided to pile them on top and let the light filter through. I added my shoes in the bottom of the frame to emphasise the image as something that was set and there and to add visual interest and also shifted the colours to a really warm orange for the autumn/fall vibes. The light adds strong visual interest as it filters through and around the leaves but wasn’t strong enough by itself.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

small compositional things could've been done to improve this photo

AIM-

Something i used to do a lot when i first bought a film camera was to look for moments made by people framed within these natural or man-made frames in the real world.  The empty seats at the front and lack of life emphasise the loneliness of the figure and night life on campus however we don’t know where shes going (probably the library up the stairs actually.. but not knowing the context creates interest).

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

making the figure stand out more and perhaps having a bit more of a slower shutter speed to get a little motion blur in her walk

AIM-

Another framed shot and my favourite shot of the bunch. The light behind the figure on the phone, her stance, the second figure walking up the stairs, both framed by outside objects, interest in why the person is alone or what the phone calls about, the all black clothing, the leaves on the ground, the tree splitting the image in two and two juxtaposing characters, etc. etc. Wondering what this would look like in maybe a 400 speed b&w film for the noise and slower shutter speed.

POINTS FOR IMPROVEMENT-

being an attempt at ‘street’ photography (never going to be brave enough to actually get in peoples faces..at least not yet) I’d say perfection isn’t something you can capture because it isn’t a real thing so compositionally I wouldn't change anything.

[cahomelessyouth]

Youth Homelessness at the Intersection of a Pandemic and the Public Health Crisis of Systemic Racism

Coauthored by Pixie Pearl and Samah Atique

The overlapping and persistent issues of systemic racial injustice and homelessness that affect the health and wellbeing of youth are being intensified by the coronavirus pandemic.

Often the experience of young people navigating homelessness and housing insecurity is addressed while being paired with single-faceted issues, such as college financial aid, criminalization, LGBTQ+, etc. While these pairings examine the multilayered effects on youth, the intersectionality of deeper systemic challenges is underrepresented. The absence of calling attention to the overlapping systemic disparities causes recommendations for change, implementation efforts, and system solutions to address the entangled problems and their impact.

Youth Homelessness

In California, youth homelessness refers to minors in families that are housing insecure, unaccompanied minors, ages 12 to 17, who are living apart from their parents or legal guardians, and young adults, ages 18 to 24, who are detached from their families and are living in unstable or inadequate living situations, inclusive of those that are pregnant and parenting themselves. Such living situations include sleeping on friends’ couches, staying in shelters, or living under bridges, in abandoned buildings, or on the streets. Youth that fall into this category include minors who have left home for one or more nights without permission, those who have been told to leave home, are abandoned or deserted, or are prevented from returning home, as well as youth who have aged out of or self-exited from foster care, or been released from juvenile justice or other public systems with nowhere to go.

Brief periods of homelessness leads to a lifetime of homelessness. More than half of youth that are unsheltered, experience homelessness for two to nine years. The majority of youth identify the following as the major reason for their homelessness or episodes of running away: family conflict and breakdown, often connected to abuse or neglect, alcohol or drug addiction of a family member; pregnancy; and rejection over their sexual orientation and gender identity. Many youth in foster care, juvenile justice, and/or mental health systems become unhoused when they transition out without the support and opportunities for housing and employment. These systems also create additional barriers when it comes to intersectional identities, such as gender identity, sexual orientation, parenting, ethnicity, and race.

Racial Inequity as a Public Health Crisis

Racial inequities continue to plague the healthcare system in a way that disproportionately harms Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC). This can be attributed to decades of racial, social and systemic inequalities that have contributed to the disparate treatment of BIPOC in the public health environment. This holds several implications related to mental health, public safety and the overall risk Californians face when interacting with healthcare professionals, often based solely on the color of their skin. 

Overall, racial minorities receive far poorer health care treatment and face far higher mortality rates than their white counterparts. For example, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Black, American Indian, and Alaska Native women have a likelihood two to three times higher than that of white women to die from pregnancy-related circumstances, a trend that worsens with age. Furthermore, statistics show that in comparison to non-Hispanic whites, Blacks have a 25% higher chance of dying from heart disease, 40% higher chance of losing their lives to breast cancer, and are 44% more likely to pass away from a stroke. Some reasons for these discrepancies include the poorer quality of care, dismissal of symptoms, and lack of sufficient monitoring and supervision when it comes to the treatment of Black patients and their interactions with healthcare professionals. Furthermore, there is a severe lack of training and understanding in regards to implicit racial and ethnic biases in the healthcare system. This holds severe implications for the future of patient-provider interactions and the safety of Black patients at the hands of these providers.    

In response to these inequities, San Bernardino County declared racism a public health crisis earlier this year, along with an increasing number of cities across the United States. More specifically, San Bernardino formally recognized that these racial disparities are detrimental to the health and wellbeing of communities and prevent societal progress. These public acknowledgements are the first of many steps necessary to ensure that racism in public health and beyond is properly addressed. With Black and Indigenous Americans facing the highest mortality rates from COVID-19, the need for healthcare reform regarding the treatment of BIPOC becomes painfully clear.       

COVID-19

To try to limit the spread of COVID-19 in California, health experts and officials have focused on urging individuals to remain at home, or shelter in place, and limit contact with others in public spaces. However, this is not a feasible option for thousands of individuals experiencing homelessness in California, particularly youth, who already face several barriers to attaining shelter. Those that do have the ability to stay in shelters, are often forced to live in overcrowded spaces with inadequate access to showers, running water, hygiene products, and other basic necessities. In addition, due to COVID-19, several shelters are now limiting the number of people allowed to utilize their resources. 

These circumstances put youth experiencing homelessness at an increased risk of being infected. The CDC reported in May that 66% of residents and 16% of staff at a shelter in San Francisco, MSC-South, tested positive for COVID-19. Such alarming statistics highlight the difficult decision that individuals experiencing homelessness must make when choosing where to stay. Many appear to be opting to live outdoors in unsheltered conditions, viewing this as a safer option. 

In March, the CDC issued guidelines instructing cities that, unless housing units are available, “do not clear encampments during community spread of COVID-19. Clearing encampments can cause people to disperse throughout the community,” which “increases the potential for disease spread.” Nevertheless, there have been news media reports of cities across California issuing “move along orders” to those unsheltered.

The federal CARES Act passed in March sought to alleviate this crisis by granting $4 billion to the Emergency Solutions Grants Program (ESG) to provide assistance to people at risk of or experiencing homelessness. The act also provides tenants protection from evictions through the creation of a national moratorium. However, even as the moratorium has recently been extended,  some families are at risk of losing their homes after the eviction moratoriums end as payments continue to accumulate over its duration. An additional element of this act is the Economic Impact Payments, which are automatic stimulus payments of up to $1,200 for individuals who meet eligibility requirements. However, some issues with eligibility, specifically for youth, include the exclusion of dependent youth over 17 and individuals who are not U.S. citizens from receiving these benefits, and the lack of clarity regarding youth who are no longer claimed as dependents in 2020. 

In April, 151,278 Californians experienced homelessness on any given day. The Governor issued an executive order, establishing Project Roomkey (now rebranded Project Homekey), an initiative to accumulate 15,000 hotel rooms alongside 1,300 FEMA trailers to house those experiencing homelessness to prevent, quarantine, and isolate any transmission of the coronavirus in California. In three months, the project housed 14,200 individuals. Unfortunately, youth and young adults experiencing homelessness are a low, if not completely absent percentage of these efforts. Many counties participating in Project Homekey are utilizing a vulnerability approach to prioritizing eligibility and access. Many of these approaches focus on helping those over age 65 with pre-existing conditions. In general, counties are splitting eligibility and risk into the age brackets of 18-54, 55-59, 60-64, and 65+. The bracket inclusive of youth and young adults experiencing homelessness spans across 36 years, which ultimately overlooks their specific vulnerabilities, renders them generally ineligible to participate in Project Homekey, and excludes them from the initiative to permanently house those enrolled. 

Furthermore, youth and young adults engaged in education (approximately 269,269 public school students and 2.1 million college students over the course of a year in California) are expected to navigate and participate in distance learning, with assumed access to computers, phones, internet, electricity, or homelessness liaisons to assist in navigation.

COVID and Racism Intersect to Compound Homelessness

COVID-19 and racism are both public health crises affecting California and the nation. The coronavirus pandemic has further exposed the racial inequities that exist in the healthcare system and access to affordable housing. In addition, decades of systemic racism have left People of Color financially vulnerable to the economic disruption and recession induced by COVID-19. Without additional federal or state assistance, many economists predict a flood of evictions to take place in the coming months. With the school year already in session or soon to begin, youth experiencing homelessness are disproportionately at risk of not being able to access distance education. The lack of educational access disrupts the opportunity for youth to thrive and hinders their social and emotional wellness and threaten their lives. 

As protests happen within California communities for justice from police killings of unarmed Black people, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Jacob Blake, amongst many others, community members experiencing homelessness on those same streets are impacted. With curfews being enforced to minimize the voices of change agents to police brutality, individuals who remained outdoors after these curfew hours are being met with rubber bullets, tear gas, and subjected to arrest. Youth of color experiencing homelessness on nights of protest against police brutality are in no way safe in the aftermath. The protests, curfews, and quarantine now roll into California’s wildfire season causing additional displacements and unhealthy living environments for those unsheltered.

Additionally, centuries of systemic racism have segregated generations of People of Color into the industries that are being disproportionately impacted by the recession, as well as jobs that make it difficult to practice recommended safety measures. Due to these economic disparities, the $600 weekly unemployment insurance provided by the CARES Act has served as a lifeline for many individuals and families; therefore, failure to continue assistance during  the economic shutdown is projected to disproportionately affect People of Color and exacerbate the existing racial wealth gap. Unfortunately, those workers in industries deemed essential do not have access to these unemployment benefits, even though the income would exceed their current employment pay. 

A report by the UC Berkeley Labor Center identified that Black and Latinx folks make up 48% and 55% of front line essential workers, respectively.  More specifically, 47% of these essential workers are identified as Transitional Aged Youth (18 to 24 years old), and are the highest age bracket percentage for janitorial and cashier positions. Youth and young adult essential workers experiencing homelessness are at a higher risk of being exposed and contracting COVID-19. Youth of Color, who already experience disproportionate access to healthcare services, are significantly more likely to contract diseases, such as cancer, diabetes, and heart disease, which are directly linked to a higher susceptibility of being infected by and losing one’s life to COVID-19. Youth that are unsheltered, unaccompanied, and experiencing the impacts of homelessness are expected to navigate the quarantine shutdowns with no running water, limited access to showers and sanitation products, limited to no access to indoor spaces for electricity, internet, and respite from the elements.

Conclusion

Youth of Color experiencing homelessness during the coronavirus pandemic and the movement to end racial injustice are expected to navigate and overcome overwhelming barriers. Their health and well-being are jeopardized through decreased access to quality medical care, over policing, lack of access to financial, emotional, and housing stability, as well as deeply embedded structural and systemic racism. Youth should not be ignored, criminalized, or seen as less than regardless of their gender, orientation, ability, housing status, or race/ethnicity. This is a pivotal time to educate ourselves, agencies, and communities on the interwoven discrimination and disparities effecting youth at the intersection of homelessness and racism, and to work together to strategically dismantle present barriers. The first step is to listen.

The following recommendations are amplified from youth, provider, and community voices.

State and Local System Policy Recommendations

Using funds from state/county/city relief packages in a way that utilizes a racial justice and equity approach within youth homelessness service system

Urging more counties/states to declare racism as a public health crisis

Extending unemployment insurance   

A minimum of 8% of Project Homekey efforts for permanent housing transition should be set aside for youth/young adults

Extend moratorium to three months post pandemic, with back rent forgiveness

Formalize/ensure youth experiencing homelessness receive previous and any future economic relief stimulus

Fully implement and formalize/permanent encampments/parking/sleeping outside

Request additional support for essential underpaid workers

Agency Implementation Recommendations

More Implicit Bias training and accountability in the healthcare system specific to race and economic status/homelessness

Educate and implement staff and agency mission on youth best practices for service provision, including but not limited to racism, mental health, trauma informed care, LGBTQ+, and youth homelessness

Uplift and amplify young voices, including BIPOC (Black Indigenous People of Color) youth by ensuring opportunities and platforms for feedback and input are available 

Individual/Community Recommendations

Educate self on personal implicit biases and encourage others to do the same

Find and share resources for youth experiencing homelessness in your area

Provide space for youth experiencing homelessness to identify their needs

Advocate for legislation that serves to uplift youth experiencing homelessness with emphasis for BIPOC youth

#Youth Homelessness #systemic racism #covid19 #californiahomeless

[garagedoornearmeinc]

8 Steps to follow during a new Garage Door Installation

h3If you are one of those who want to play multiple roles in your house, this article would interest you. Yes! It is surely fun playing a technician, a plumber or an electrician for yourself at your home. It not only saves you finances but it also gives you a feeling of satisfaction that you can maintain your household without taking any external help. For instance, if you want to know how to install a garage door, here is what you need to know to stay self-sufficient and cost-effective. This is a comprehensive account of the procedure which you can follow step by step to install your garage door with minimum or no help at all.

Preparation:

Well before even you get started with the procedure, you should be well-prepared and well-informed about the technical aspects of the installation. For that purpose, you can keep the following things in your mind: Manufacturer’s manual: You should always go through the details given in the manufacturer’s instruction manual so that you get the basic knowledge of the process of installation. Get Familiar with the parts: The garage door must have come with the extra bits and pieces without which you will not be able to install the door. So, it is always a good idea that you get familiar with each of them, so that you can use them later on. Tools: You will have to keep the tools within your range so that it is easier for you to take whichever you want when you start the installation. The most commonly needed tools include Hammer, Power drill machine, Nails, Screwdriver, Ladder. Panel Prepping: The very last step before you start the installation is the preparation of the panel. Fix the hinges of the door if they are not already attached. Slide on the rollers on the hinges and also do not forget to attach the weather-resistant stripping as provided by the manufacturer.

Installation of the Garage Door:

Now comes the stage of the installation of the garage door. It will be good if you follow the following 8 steps to do it: Step 1: Measurement and Placement of the door: The very first thing you will do is to check the size and alignment of the door in the given space: Make sure that the door has the same dimensions as the frame In case of a difference in the size, do not proceed further. Instead, get your garage door replaced. Adjust the space under the door keeping in mind the weather-stripping In case you do not have a helper at this stage, you can try fitting the panel for the time being, using the driving nails at a specific angle Be careful while doing it as you should not let the nail get through to the panel. Step 2: Assemble the parts:

Now you can proceed to the next step which involves the assembly of the horizontal, curved and vertical parts separately. Connect only the vertical parts according to the instructions in the manufacturer's manual. Also re-check the length of the vertical section as it should fit with the height of the door. Now fix the vertical track with the first panel. You can do it by simply sliding the rollers and then lower it so that it falls into its place. Start with one side and then go to the next. Here you need to be mindful of the fact that the level of each track is correct and the panel stays in the exact center. Now loosely tighten the screw of the track with the door frame as you might need to make adjustments later on when you will add the second panel. Step 3: Set up the next panel: Here you will need to have a helper for sure because now you need to add the second panel on the first panel. You may call an expert for the purpose to make things easier for you. You do not need to attach the outside hinges to this one initially First, angle each of the unattached rollers with the track so that you can then fix the rollers and hinges with the second panel. Now slide along the roller with the attached hinge on to the panel before you secure it with the screws. Do not try to attach the holes as otherwise the alignment of the roller and the track will not be possible. Step 4: Connect the hinges of the first panel and the second panel base: Do not forget the pre-drilling of the holes which will connect the second and third panel as it will be easier to do when you have them in the horizontal position on the floor instead of doing it when it is in the standing position. Now you can easily connect the second and third panels in the prescribed manner. Here, you will tighten the screws completely once you make sure that the panels are perfectly aligned. Step 5: Fix the track up in the wall: While you do it, again ensure that the screws are loose enough so that you can adjust them if required. Also do not forget to keep an eye on the level of the track and the alignment of the panels to avoid malfunction of the door at the end of the installation. Step 6: Repeat the process and add more panels: Make sure that you have firmly secured the brackets to hold the panels right in position. You need to keep checking the level of the door Now fix the plates on the top of the vertical track with the wall on both sides of the doorway. Make sure that the screws are tight enough to resist the force exerted every opening and closing of the door. Step 7: Fix the curved and horizontal tracks: Always follow the instructions given in the manufacturer's manual to connect the panels with each other It is a good idea to use a ladder so that you can have a rest for the horizontal trac You have to keep a check on the level of the horizontal trac Now is the time when you will be cutting the track hanger from the rear end to the suitable length to support the track and then to screw it with the frame Repeat the same procedure to fix the other piece of the horizontal track Bear in mind that the distance between the track should be the same as that of the track on the base. Step 8: Install the Torque tube

The torque tube is installed if you do not have the automatic garage door opener. It is basically a manual alternative to the automated door opener. While you install the torque spring, make sure that you have the safety cable also to avoid accidents. Since the springs may be damaged and fly around in the course of use, so you should take the precautionary measures.

After finishing the task

It is important to check the surroundings once you have completed the procedure Make sure that you clean up the place. Remove all the extra nails spread all around. Get all the obstacles aside like ladder and other tools so that you can check the working of the door. Check once again that you have tightened all the screws so that the door is opening and closing smoothly. Revisit the alignment of your garage door and also make sure that the tracks are perfectly aligned. You can surely adjust the position of the track if necessary Do not forget to recheck the rollers being sitting in the right position and that they can move smoothly. Make sure that the door remains open on its own even if you do not hold if manually. In case, it does not stay there, you will have to re-adjust the slope of either the horizontal track or the door spring. So, this is how you can install your garage door yourself. All you have to do is to follow these simple steps exactly in the same manner and you will surely be able to do it like a pro. You will surely feel a great sense of achievement when you are done. All your hard work and dedication will pay off when the garage door will work smoothly. However, in case of an emergency or if you get stuck during the procedure, you can always call for professional help especially if you are in California. Yes! No matter, which part of the city you are located, we are always there to assist you in Westminster, CA and Cypress, CA besides many other regional offices throughout California. So, you can approach us anywhere anytime as our expert team will respond to your query immediately without any delays. We offer our services at affordable with no compromise on the quality which makes us stand out of the crowd. Read the full article

[smoshblog-blog1]

BREAKING: Osinbajo finally reacts to Obasanjo’s attack on him, Buhari govt [Full text]

Vice President, Yemi Osinbajo, says the statement by former president Olusegun Obasanjo on the Federal Government’s TraderMoni microcredit scheme is most unfortunate. Senior Special Assistant to the President on Media & Publicity, Mr. Laolu Akande, in a rejoinder Monday night noted that “it is either that the former leader is ignorant of the true workings of Trader Moni and the role of the Vice President in its implementation or perhaps he is on a mischievous mission.” According to Akande, the former President has demonstrated “a surprising but complete misunderstanding of the workings of TraderMoni, that is if we assume there is no mischief intended.” He said: “Firstly, the Vice President does not personally distribute money during his visits to the markets. He goes there to assess the progress of the implementation and to create awareness for a programme designed to meet the financing need of 2 million petty traders across the country in the first instance. “Secondly, while one will not bother to further address the issue of timing of the implementation since such issues are now known to be political posturing, it is important to note that TraderMoni is being actively implemented across all states of the federation and the FCT. It is not only Lagos and Abuja as was insinuated. “These petty traders at the bottom of the economic ladder, with an inventory often less than N5,000, are beneficiaries of the TraderMoni scheme which provides N10,000 collateral/interest-free loans to them, empowerment that improves their small businesses, their families, while also contributing significantly to the economy. “Thirdly, in what is certainly a curious comment, the former President has also been quoted as describing the TraderMoni scheme as idiotic. To label such people-friendly scheme as idiotic is not only an absurdity, it is also an affront to the sensibilities of these hard working Nigerians, the beneficiaries of the micro-credit scheme. “For emphasis, the Bank of Industry implements the Government Enterprise and Empowerment Programme, GEEP, one part of our Social Investment Programme. Enumeration Agents have been engaged to visit the markets and other points where petty traders are found to confirm that they are traders and also take their biometric information for recording purposes. After the enumeration, the N10,000 collateral free loans are then disbursed electronically through the petty traders’ phones. “TraderMoni is designed to meet the needs of the larger population of petty traders at the bottom of the pyramid who do not meet the more stringent criteria of BVN, bank accounts, market associations, cooperatives, required for bigger Market Moni loans. “Under GEEP – which has MarketMoni, FarmerMoni and TraderMoni, at least 1.5 million Nigerians are already beneficiaries of the three-pronged approach of GEEP, while N-Power has created jobs for 500,000 young Nigerians graduates, besides non-graduates. Also, almost 300,000 Nigerians have benefitted from the Conditional Cash Transfer (CCT), which is given to the poorest and most vulnerable among us, and over 9.2 million school pupils are being fed a free meal daily in 26 states under the Home Grown School Feeding Programme. “It bears repetition that higher economic growth potentials are associated with lower income inequality. This makes a most overwhelming case for welfare payments like the social investment schemes like the TraderMoni/MarketMoni schemes. Such a micro-credit scheme provides a higher rate of inclusion into the financial bracket and is crucial in lifting hardworking people out of poverty as has been the case in other countries like India and Brazil. “Fourthly, the former president also rehashed discredited claims suggesting that TraderMoni beneficiaries were required to tender their PVCs, and questioned the timing of the implementation. “Let me, therefore, state again that beneficiaries of TraderMoni are not required to show their Personal Voters Cards (PVCs) or any document indicating their political affiliations to qualify for the loans. This is why the enumeration is done in the open markets and wherever the traders ply their trade. This issue has been addressed several times by the Presidency in the public space. Therefore the former president’s alleged comments smirk of outright mischief as it regurgitates blatant falsehood. “Equally, if the former president had conducted a simple act of diligence, he would have found that the National Assembly had approved this programmes and budgeted for them duly. “When President Muhammadu Buhari came into office, one of the major hinges of this administration was to uplift the common man out of poverty and ensure the welfare of ordinary Nigerians. TraderMoni is one of such schemes conceived in 2016 under the Social Investment Programme of this administration. “Being a former president, Chief Obasanjo ordinarily should appreciate the impact of such far-reaching social investment schemes, which has provided what is now the largest social safety net for millions of Nigerians and is unprecedented in the nation’s history. “Again, the former president’s attack on TraderMoni and the person of the Vice President is an indicator that he may be wittingly or unwittingly playing to the sinister script of the opposition party to spread falsehood and attack the social investment programmes of the Buhari administration, which champions such impactful schemes, and which is now attracting the praise and commendation of Nigerians everywhere. “It is pertinent to state that the false allegations against TraderMoni raised again by the former president is sadly a rehash of baseless claims previously made by leading chieftains of the opposition Peoples Democratic Party, whose record of profligacy, corruption and mismanagement clearly show it has no agenda to uplift the common man or improve the lives of Nigerians. “Finally, attacks such as this on a scheme that benefits the masses of our people is a direct attack on the people and this kind of conduct does not reflect very well on a former president but is only self-denigrating and of no public value. As is already now obvious, the generality of the Nigerian people will not only reject that attack but will also condemn its source. We, therefore, urge the former president to be far more circumspect and more public-spirited in his utterances going forward.” Read the full article

#2019Elections #Apc #FederalGovernment #LaoluAkande #microcreditscheme #OlusegunObasanjo #Pdp #TraderMoni #VicePresident #YemiOsinbajo

[thcpariiah]

file: like_nicotine.docx

               TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, ALLISON ARGENT                LOCATION __// UNDERGROUND ( STUART’S QUARTERS )                TIME _ FRAME ___//  RECENTLY                INPUT_SUMMARY…?__//                             When Stuart is settled on what he plans to do the next morning, he wants to find a way to let Allison know that he feels ... something for her, despite not knowing what it is. During one of their nightly time in silence they spend together, what Stuart initially intends as a kiss goes much further -- and, at the end of it, Stuart knows the guilt will later eat him alive. [ TW for smut. ]    [ CHATZY LOG ]

Stuart

There was a sharp twist of his nerves as he brought his eyes up to Allison -- the twisted nerves were a combination of things. Some of that -- a lot of that, actually -- originated from what he planned to do in the morning. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was ​terrified​, but swallowing his emotions were what he did best. And, that wasn't what was pressing right in that moment in time -- it was the girl standing in front of him, and looking at him like he had three heads. He had gone quiet, eerily so -- not his usual quiet, but a more anxious and unsteady quiet -- and he knew it was concerning her. He wasn't good with things like ​this​, and his thoughts were doing nothing but making him more anxious the more seconds ticked by.

So, he stopped thinking. He closed the space between them -- fully aware that the ramifications of his actions could push her away from him ( but, it wasn't like he would be ​here​ much longer ), but he wanted her to know that she meant ​something​ to him before he left, even if he himself wasn't sure what that was. He was all jittery inexperience -- as he had never as much as kissed anyone -- but he pressed forward still. One hand gingerly smoothing across her shoulder, the other tipping her chin up with a finger and his thumb before he closed the gap of air between them with a soft and gentle kiss.

Allison

When he had fallen silent, Allison had grown concerned, having come to his room to check on him after the news of Stiles' allegiance being discovered. They stood in a tense silence foreign to her interactions with Stuart for what felt like forever, Allison finding her stomach knotting with nerves by the time he was moving towards her.

It was such a foreign action to her, with a look of pure nervous concentration on his face, that she almost took a step back - opening her mouth to ask if he was alright before he was ​right there​ and taking a hold of her chin. His hand on her shoulder set her skin alight with goosebumps, causing her to both melt and feel even more confusion as, still without words, Stuart was ​kissing​ her. Allison felt her brain shut down, moments later, as her hands moved from uselessly hanging at her sides to knot a fist in his shirt. Pulling him closer to her in an action that she was so ​embarrassed​ of because of course she had thought of Stuart that way but it had seemed so impossible that she had quelled the feeling and stuffed it in the far reaches of her mind.

Stuart

He doesn't know what kind of reaction was expecting from the girl -- but this was definitely not it. He wasn't ​complaining​ in the slightest -- as it was not unwelcome -- but it merely caught him off guard in the way that she twisted her fingers into his clothing and pulled him closer. He stumbled -- embarrassed in the fact that ​this​, this was something he was unfamiliarity with. And, for once, his actions almost mirrored in twin's with all uncoordinated unfamiliar -- and all eager as his hand moved from her shoulder to thread into her hair and deepen it, eyes slipping closed as he did so.

He took a harsh breath through his nose, mentally reminding himself what this was supposed to be -- but finding himself battling himself internally when, for the first time in his life, human desire sparked and ignited a hot flame from the way she had desperately returned it, and he was tempted to turn a blind eye to what he ​should do.​ What he should do was to end it right then and there and leave it as it was -- but, that's not what he wanted to do, with how receptive she already was. So he didn't, merely using his grip on her chin to tilt her head more so as his tongue came to feather across her lips -- he may have been inexperienced, but he was also a keen learner.

Allison

Allison barely noticed the clumsiness with which he stumbled towards her, the way he eagerly deepened the kiss setting a fire in her stomach that made her simultaneously tentative and eager. She pressed against him, hands splaying across his chest as she flattened them between their bodies. This was so ​strange​ but part of her was nervous to question it. About to pull away to question him, despite herself, Allison groaned - one that did not complain in the slightest about his actions - as he tilted her head, tongue venturing across her lips.

Any thoughts she had flew out of her mind as her lips parted, granting him the access he sought. She was still so confused, but she found that she didn't ​care​, the fire in her stomach spreading across her skin wherever he touched. Allison felt her heart hammering against the back of her hand, flying a mile a minute at the pure impossibility of this - perhaps she was dreaming. It made more sense than this being a reality, with Stuart pressed against her with an eagerness that she had never seen from him in all their time together.

Stuart

He ​was​ almost afraid that she would pull away and shatter it all -- the question of his motivations might just break the entire moment, as he was not prepared to explain himself. Not just ill prepared -- but unwilling. Because, he knew if it he did, she would stop him. There was no ​try​ to it, because Stuart was not stupid enough to underestimate Allison Argent. If she knew, ​she would stop him.​ It was as simple as that.

He let out a soft, satisfied noise as she parted her lips for him -- slipping his tongue in and exploring her, smoothing a hand down the back of her neck with broad fingers and letting himself ​learn​ everything that had never know before. The way the human body heated under the sensual touch -- the way his stomach twisted and coiled with a heat so sharp that it was almost painful. The way he ​longed...​ -- oh, that was a new feeling. A magnetic, lustful pull to the girl as she allowed it to deepen. Human err now beginning to seep into his own decisions, and he wondered if he was already in too deep.

His free hand moved to her hip, lingering there atop her clothing as he did not know how far she would be willing to go -- how far she ​wanted​ to go, and he did not want to pressure her. Even if his body was already screaming and his mind was going into hyperdrive. Hands now shaking, glasses fogging ever so slightly from their combined body heat and hot breaths.

Allison

The noise he made set Allison's thoughts even farther from her mind, occupied now fully with ​him​. The feel of his tongue against hers and of his fingers sliding down her body. As he toyed with her emotions, Allison took a step back, pulling him with her until the back of her knees were hitting the bed and his hands were resting - almost questioningly - on her hips.

It was as though each part of her body screamed for him, her hands sliding down to his hips until she was pulling away from the kiss and allowing her fingers to leave his body as she slid herself onto his bed. Looking at him, Allison realized how ​badly​ she wanted him, with his lips parted with heavy breaths and his glasses fogged from the sudden heat in the room.

Unable to find the words to challenge whatever it was that was happening between them - because it felt so right - she found herself leaning forwards to take his hand, giving it the slightest of tugs towards herself and the bed.

Stuart

His entire body was aching with a primal need that he had never experienced before -- surging through each nerve in him, pulsing through his very core. Yes -- he was a young male. He had been horny before. He had jerked himself off before. He was not immune to those desires. But ​this...--​ Oh, this was entirely new to him and he was so ready to take a deep plunge and let himself be consumed by it ; for once in his life, not concerned with the ​after --​ He didn't want to think about the after. If he did, it would stop the now. Because he shouldn't be letting it go this far. So -- he stopped thinking about it and focused instead on ​her​.

He stumbled a little as she pulled away from him -- mute confusion evident against his features as his chest heaved with harsh breaths that shook his entire frame with the harshness of it all; blinking at the blurred vision against the light fog of his lenses.

But, before he could inquire just what ---- Allison was taking his hands and tugging him towards his bed where she had already situated herself. He took it as the invitation it was, fully prepared to ​stop​ whenever she would voice it, as he climbed onto the bed. He was too high-strung, too deep into it to be rational. ( He could be respectful, but not rational. ) His long legs bracketed on either side of her, hands coming back to her hips -- lengthy digits sneaking slightly up the bottom hem of her shirt and smoothing against the skin there as he pressed in for a deeper, more heated kiss. Pressing in and he pressed her into the bed.

Finally -- for the first time, he spoke, " -- this ... this okay?" he asked, needing -- needing the confirmation and the consent as he panted against her lips.

Allison

​This​ was one of the things Allison had not experienced in years - closed away in a compound where she was given little privacy and not noticed at the same time. Allison had received compliments, and advances, but nothing had made her ache in the way that Stuart's harsh breaths made her ache. With her heart in her throat, Allison sighed with her desire as his fingers on her skin rose goosebumps. One hand on his shoulder, the other sliding down his back, Allison returned his kiss enthusiastically, nipping at his lower lip.

She had to stop herself from whining as he pulled away from her lips. Eyes opening to gaze at him, Allison nodded, voice lagging behind her thoughts as a moment later she was murmuring a yes and lifting her lips to his again. She didn't understand it, but she didn't care - every small amount of contact making her feel wanted, validating all of the moments that she had stopped to watch him work on his computer in quiet wonder.

Stuart

He nodded silently in return, and it was all he needed. He pressed back in, this time to dip down and kiss at her neck -- once more eager to explore her in all that she was, teeth nipping lightly at the skin before merely mouthing at the curve of her neck -- mindful enough, at least, to know not to leave behind marks. His hands on her hips continued to wander -- ever so slowly so that she could stop him. Up her sides, and up her ribcage -- touch curious at the way her body was shaped, the way it was created. The way it dipped under his finger tips before the tops of his fingers found the edging of her bra, smoothing his fingers under the wire ever so slightly.

At the same time, he pressed himself down against her -- almost on instinct -- marveling at the way they slotted together and -- ​oh​. He faltered with his attention at her neck with a harsh gasp at the ​friction​ the movement created against his denim-covered interest, instead now whimpering with weakness as he trembled once.

Allison

Allison gasped at his teeth against her skin, staring at the ceiling as her fingers carded through his hair. She tilted her head, exposing more of her throat to him as though encouraging his actions, asking for more. His touch made her shiver, body arching up against his at the feel of his fingers against her bare skin. It drove her near insane, his touch so slow and yet so curious, biting down on her lip as his fingers slid just slightly under the wire of her bra.

His gasp had her opening her eyes, fingers sliding down his back to the hem of his shirt as a whimper escaped him - coupled with a tremble that made her grateful she was not standing for her knees went weak. "Stuart," She breathed his name, questioning as though she wasn't sure how far they were going - desire pooling in her abdomen as her fingers slid beneath his shirt, sliding up taut muscles in wonder.

Stuart

He shivered harshly as hands drove across his heated flesh -- and, god, he wanted. He just ​wanted​ so much. There was too much clothing between them -- not enough bare skin for him to explore, for his hands to wander over and discover. God -- he just... - he didn't know what to do with himself. And that should've terrified him. And maybe, under normal circumstances, it would've. But -- it didn't. It made him curious. It made him want everything and anything all at the same time.

When she spoke his name, a groan pushed itself from his lips -- made him tremble all the way down his spine. But, he did pull back to look at her with dilated eyes, cradling her cheek in a hand as he read the question in her gaze. " -- you say the word, you tell me to stop, and I will," he told her, his voice rough as his legs shook with the weight of holding himself up. "But -- you ... you tell me what you want, and I'll do that too."

Allison

Allison's fingers paused their movement when he looked at her, her own pupils likely as dilated as his as he touched his hand to her cheek. She felt a rush of desire hit her with his words, breath coming in a little faster at the knowledge that he was leaving it up to her. She doubted that what she wanted didn't match up with what he wanted though, and Allison looked at him with a tentative shyness that flushed her cheeks.

"I-I want ​you​, Stuart." She told him, quietly, because she wasn't so sure what any of this meant - what it would lead them to. Would it change anything? Allison swallowed around the nerves bundling in her stomach before leaning up on her elbows to press her lips to his - her kiss slow but still just as heated as their previous ones, perhaps more so with her desire finally out in the open.

Stuart

He was patient, despite himself, as he waited for the female's response -- his chest was heaving hard between them, his hands trembling as he continued to watch her through curious and anxious eyes; lips parted slightly to suck in deep and shivering breaths.

He couldn't stop himself from letting out a soft moan as she spoke, acknowledging verbally that she ​wanted him.​ And Stuart really wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge. With that revelation. He had never had something like this before -- had never been offered an opportunity like this. And he just ​wanted​ so bad that he ached. And when she was kissing him eagerly once more, he was pressing into it hard. One hand pressing her into the bed with her shoulder, the other one once more dancing long fingers across her rib cage before that same hand -- tentatively -- was tugging at the edge of her shirt as if asking for it to be removed.

Allison

With his moan, Allison felt a shiver run through her body; it was as though just the knowledge that she wanted him turned him into a mess. As he was pressing her back into the bed, one of Allison's hands returned to skate across the skin at his hips, as the other balled into a fist in the sheets as the realization that this was ​real​ made her head spin in heady satisfaction.

Humming against his lips as he tugged at her shirt, Allison shifted until she was pressing back at him - pressing him upwards until she had maneuvered her body far enough from the bed to slide her shirt off - lips parting from his for only a second before she was pulling him back against her, discarding her shirt to the side as her fingers pushed at the edges of his own shirt in response.

Stuart

He let out a soft whimper as Allison feathered her hands against his hips -- pressing them into her fleetingly before she was pulling away to tug her shirt off. Keen ambers raked over her body as he wet his lips, swallowing compulsively before she was pulling him back into her and tugging at his shirt. He moaned, a noise that vibrated his whole chest, before he was fumbling blindly before them -- arching his back up to remove his shirt and toss it to the side without looking. Now that that piece of business was taken care of, he was back up against her.

He was pressing in harshly against her lips once more, pressing the bare flesh of his chest against hers, and nuzzling into her neck. One hand moved around her rib cage -- feathering over warm skin, to press into her back and began to attempt to fumble with the clasp of her bra -- the other hand shoving itself up under the wire of the front of her bra to ​explore​, cupping long fingers around one breast as he pressed his center up against her leg.

Allison

Each touch from her warranted a response of eager receptiveness, and with his shirt gone, Allison found herself incapable of keeping her hands away. Her fingers slid down his shoulders, along the curves of muscle that responded with his movements as he pressed into her once more - sending a shudder through her body at the contact of their skin. Her answering kiss was eager before he was leaving her lips bare once again, nuzzling into her neck and soliciting a sigh of ​need​ from the huntress.

Her body arched against his touch, his excitement against her leg a reminder of what was to come as his warm fingers slid beneath her bra. She did not move to help him unclasp her bra, unable to tear her hands from his hips, where they had settled as she moved her body against his.

Stuart

Stuart had never been touched before -- never anything that wasn't a shoulder clasp or a hug from someone. And -- ​god​, he didn't know how he lasted this long without it. Her hands felt like they created sparks in their wake as the wandered around his back -- as they explored his muscles before dipping down to his hips, the bones there rolling against her hands as he slowly rutted against her hip.

He was mouthing once more at her neck -- wetly and hotly -- and it took him a few tries to finally unlatch her bra before it was coming free, managing to tug tug it off and away from her and off the bed. The one on one breast moved to test her nipple there, the other hand -- having completed its mission -- settled long, broad fingers against her shoulder blade.

Allison

Allison moaned as his attention moved to her nipple, the combination of his mouth on her neck and his touch on her breast sending her brain scattering in several directions. One of her hands slid up his back, fingers carding through his hair as her body shivered against his. The feel of him on top of her alone was enough to send her into madness, but the attention he afforded her had her a trembling mess beneath him.

As the hand in his hair settled on his shoulder in a weak grip, her other hand moved from his hip. Sliding her hand between him and her hip, Allison palmed at his erection over his jeans as he solicited another soft moan from her lips with his touch.

Stuart

He shivered hard as her hand carded its way through his hair, continuing to slow rut against her in a way that demanded friction -- his erection growing slightly painful against his denim as he nosed his way back up her neck to grasp at her earlobe with his teeth and suck hard for a few moments.

It was then that she was palming at him through his jeans, and his teeth sunk in harder than he meant it to before he was pulling himself away from her ear with a harsh, " -- ​Ch.. Christ ..​" forced him his chest as he pressed  his center into her hand. One hand now moved from her back to slip around her front -- dancing across her waist line before slipping down under her waist line until two fingers found a wet, bundle of nerves at her center -- experimenting with a few, circled motions.

Allison

Allison gasped as his teeth sunk down slightly harder on her earlobe, pressing her palm slightly harder against him as he spoke against her ear. She felt his fingers on her skin, a hot trail of anticipating following in their wake. As his fingers dipped below the waistline of her pants, Allison sucked in a breath, before he was finding his mark and her hand on his shoulder was gripping tighter.

Stuart earned a moan for his efforts, before Allison was sliding her hand up his jeans to the button, managing - somehow - to pop them open with one hand as she rolled her hips towards his fingers. His name slipped from her lips, a jumble of moans among it as her body writhed beneath him at the touch she hadn't felt in so long.

Stuart

" -- god," he breathed, his voice hoarse and ruined as he ducked his head down for a brief moment. " .. you're really wet..." His voice was gruff and shaky, and almost very unlike himself as he continued to put pressure on her clit as he circled her -- using her to wet his fingers before he was shifting around just enough to slip one finger inside of her; feeling bold and pumping his finger slightly.

His head was a mess of thoughts as she began to moan under him and writhe -- his heart on hyperdrive as his free hand tried to assist her, grabbing loosely at the edge of his jeans and jerking; pulling both it and his boxers over his ass so that they settled low on his thighs -- this causing his length, and the interest that was showed there, to be exposed.

Allison

Allison heard the shake in his voice, the deepness of it, and it only had her groaning in response to it - to seeing a side of Stuart that was ​pleasingly​ different, to know that she could cause him to shake in such a good way. As his finger slid inside of her, Allison rocked her hips towards his finger, "My pants -" She gasped, "Off -" Unable to really form a proper sentence at that point, a mess at the mercy of her desire, Allison fumbled with the zipper on his jeans.

Soon, he was doing the rest of the work for her, pants free before she was raising heavily lidded eyes to his erection, lips parted with hot breaths caused by his busy hand. The hand that had been at his zipper reached for him, taking his length in a grasp that was gentler than the enthusiasm she felt, sliding her thumb over his tip.

Stuart

At the gasp of words from the other, he was soon slipping his hand out from her panties to instead now use both hands to undo her pants -- shaky fingers having a rough time getting them undone before he finally managed to get the button popped and the zipper down; slipping his fingers into the sides of her waistband before slowly tugging downwards.

It was around that time that she was wrapping a hand around his dick -- a choked noise resounding in his throat as his eyes squeezed shut and he was jutting his hips into her hand, despite himself. "Are we ---" he started, words stumbling over themselves, " -- if we're ... - Condom. Nightstand," was all he managed to get out. Now that clothing was less of a factor, even if his jeans still settled around his thighs -- and despite his request for her to grab what they needed -- his hand was once more returning to her clit, two fingers slipping into her as his thumb toyed with the small bundle of nerves -- leaning down to kiss above her breasts as his free hand cupped one of them.

Allison

Allison lifted her hips in an attempt to help him slide off her pants, eyes finding his face as he rocked his hips into her hand. A rush of heat ran from her toes to her ears, face likely turning a brighter shade of pink than it already was - if that was even possible - as she found herself impossibly more attracted to him. Stuart, who never seemed to fumble with his words, was tossing them out in jumbled sentences for only her ears and it felt so irresistibly intimate that Allison had to choose between her desire to make his body shake again with her hand or release him in favor of having them ​both​ shake.

As her hand released him, he was slipping his fingers inside of her and she was gasping with the feeling, "​Oh, god​," she breathed, her body twisting with his fingers as she stretched in an attempt to reach the nightstand. Just barely managing, with fingers that shook from his attention, she found a condom in his nightstand at the same time that a moan spilled from her throat.

Stuart

Despite knowing what she was getting, he couldn't stop himself from touching her ; the one on her breast gently circling her nipple before he was kissing down to join his hand -- tongue sliding over the nipple for a brief moment. His hand inside of her continued its work before he was slipping his hand out of her completely to instead take the foil from her.

In that moment, he did pause very, very briefly, " -- do you want ...?" he asked, his voice breaking off for a moment. Because, while she didn't know this -- Stuart had never done ​anything​ like this before. He was out of his depth, and barely treading water. And, somehow, somehow it was more exciting than anything he's ever done.

Allison

She nearly dropped the condom as she rolled her hips with the rhythm of his fingers, a whine escaping her against her will as he suddenly removed them. Fingers releasing the foil to him, her gaze found his, eyebrows raising at his question in wonder. "I-" She paused, sucking in a breath before simply answering with a, "​Yes​." It made her feel special, somehow, to have him asking her if she wanted to have sex with him when she was the one handing him the condom.

She drank him in then, eyes dragging over him with pupils dilated from her lust and the excitement dwelling in the pit of her stomach from his eager touch. His tousled hair and his body shaking with heavy breaths and maybe nerves - nerves that she felt bundling up in herself as well as she almost began to consider what it meant doing this without any sort of discussion. But she tossed the thought aside when her eyes met his again, feeling desire drip from her, a need for him that Allison didn't think she'd ever really felt for anyone in her life making her almost impatient to have him pressed against her once more.

Stuart

Stuart waited -- much too patiently for his body to enjoy -- for her response. Once she did respond, however, he felt a heat hike up in him before he was shifting around on the bed once more. He moved to completely remove his jeans and boxers -- kicking them off to the floor -- before he was fumbling with the condom. He had never ​put one on​ before, but he assumed that it was pretty self explanatory.

His eyes drew back up to her in time to see her dragging her eyes over him -- and, oh ... that was an odd feeling. The heat that surged at the back of his neck and twisted in his stomach. He had ​never​ had anyone look at him that way. And, it made him slightly anxious -- anxious that he was going to screw something up in this. But, he bit down on those thoughts and pressed in against her again ; pressing her back against the bed with a hand on her chest -- between her breasts -- as his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

He lined himself up, distracting her by kissing her -- long, and hard -- as his breathing shook. And, honestly, it took him a few embarrassing tries to find her hole blind, but he was soon finding it with his tip before easing in just a little. And, with that, just that little bit, a broken gasp left his lips against hers.

Allison

Allison, caught in her gazing, smiled at Stuart shyly - cheeks heating at the thought of what was coming next. As he pushed her back against the bed, Allison bit the shy smile from her lips, though his kiss was soon releasing her teeth from her lip and causing her to completely ​not care​ that he seemed to have some trouble finding his mark.

Still, when he did, and he gasped against her lips, Allison's insides turned to liquid. "Stuart," She breathed his name into his mouth, tone reverent and heady as one of her hands moved from the sheets to the back of his neck, lips reaching for his. In an attempt to encourage him, Allison nipped at his lower lip before catching it between her teeth and sucking just slightly. Her fingers scratched gently at the back of his neck, touch tender but needy - ​wanting​.

Stuart

The magic user let out a rough groan as he swallowed the whisper of his name -- and he knew that he could never get tired of hearing his name like that, if given that chance. As she reached for his neck and brought him back in, he was eager to comply -- even if it was nothing but uncoordinated and desperate harsh breaths against her lips, raking his teeth across her bottom lip.

He shivered at the feeling of her nails against the back of his neck before he was pushing himself more so into her, using a hand against her hip to keep the both of them steady as he began to slowly set a messy rhythm with his hips -- a noise that ​almost​ sounded like a sob at just how tight --- just how ​warm.​ " ... Allison... -"

Allison

With each breath that fanned across her parted lips, Allison drew further from the worries of her day and closer into the bubble that seemed to hold time still around them - one that let her forget the worry of what this meant for them.

She took her name on his lips like a precious gift, high on the sounds that he was making because of ​her​. His touch set her hip alight, a fire blazing in her abdomen as he moved, her hips slowly finding his pace and moving with him - a moan the only sound she made in response to the sound of her name.

Stuart

His breathing was harsh and shaky -- choking and strangling him until he could barely breathe. And he knew -- ​god,​ he knew that he wasn't going to last long at all. And, with that in mind, he was shifting a little so that he could slip one of his hands in between them to once more began to circle her clit -- just as disorganized as his thrusts.

Which, speaking of those, they began to get more and more sporadic as his breathing hitched and heaved -- his free hand gripping at her thigh. "S -- ​shit...​ .. I'm .. I'm really close."

Allison

Allison gasped as he reached between their bodies to touch her, too far gone - too scattered in lust - to care that he seemed inexperienced. Her own touch was scattered, fingers against his neck shaking as they slid to grip at his shoulder tightly.

The hand that had been clutching at the sheets until he spoke moved to his lower back, nails scratching at the skin clumsily, "Stuart," She whined as she felt herself tense with the ache that built in her stomach.

Stuart

The gasp from the other pulled another muted groan from the witch -- low and deep as he curled his head into her neck; squeezing his eyes shut as she whined out his name, speaking hers in a prayer against her flesh -- heated and heavy -- as he gave a few more harsh snaps of his hips before he was tensing up.

His hand against her center slowed briefly as he pulsed inside of her -- biting down loosely at the curve of her neck to muffle a high cry as he hit his limit.

Allison

His breath fanned against her throat and Allison shuddered at the sound of her name, fingers tightening at his shoulder as he pumped into her before he stilled. The sound of his muffled cry, mixed with the sudden slowness of his fingers on her clit had her rocking her hips down against him, biting her lip at the slight pain of his teeth on her throat.

It was a moment later that his slow fingers managed to coax her orgasm from her, tensing around him as she let out a moan of her own - louder than she was proud to admit - as her nails bit into his shoulder, too light to leave marks that would last long.

Stuart

He flinched as her nails bit into his shoulders -- wincing only slightly as he allowed himself to fully come down from his orgasm and smoothing his free hand down her side. He kissed the area where his teeth had sunk in apologetically to soothe it -- panting hard and shaking quite noticeably as he worked her through her orgasm ; eyes still closed as he let himself fully comprehend the fact that ​he did this.​ He was able to make her cum -- he made her feel good. And she ​wanted him.​ It was a lot of information that he wasn't used to processing.

Finally, though, once they both came down, he was slowly and gently easing himself out of her -- whimpering at the over sensitivity of his lax length.

Allison

Allison felt him flinch and despite herself, she felt instantly apologetic - though her mind was elsewhere as he helped her through her orgasm. When she was just as shaking of a mess as he was, chest heaving with the weight and frequency of her breaths, Allison smoothed her fingers over his shoulder where she had dug her nails in - the marks red but already fading away.

She simply stared at him as he whimpered, expression then both vulnerable and tentative, brows drawing together as her strung-out body shook beneath his and her brain began to function enough to understand what had happened - that he had ​wanted​ her. Though, some small demon in the back of her mind told her that he didn't, Allison swallowed the lump that the thought brought to her throat.

Stuart

He fumbled between them with a thick throat to tug off the condom -- tossing it somewhere on his nightstand to discard later. He had no idea what to ​say​ in that moment. ​It wasn't supposed to go this far? This was really nice, but you're probably not going to see me again? I'm turning myself in tomorrow morning?​ He knew none of that would go down well, and -- oh, that ​pain.​ It was new and terrifying. It felt like his chest was dropping in on itself. His heart was ​aching​, swallowing thickly as he settled himself down on the bed.

"Do you .... want to sleep here? It's late," he finally decided on, voice soft and more gentle than she had probably ever heard it.

Allison

Allison watched him, feeling the twist in her stomach of ​bad​ nerves as he remained silent. Her breathing came under her control easily, until her chest merely lifted with breaths that had been silenced despite the nerves and the activities from only moments before.

When he spoke, Allison rolled onto her side to look at him, propping herself up slightly on her elbow. "Is that okay?" She stumbled over her words, voice quiet and nervous in the face of the gentility of his voice; it was so unfamiliar to her, and evasive of the question that she really wanted to ask.

Stuart

Stuart rolled his teeth across his lower lip -- and he ​knew​ that his answer should be no. He should have her leave before the hurt for her later became worse. He should -- but, for once in his life, the witch was being selfish. He didn't know what awaited him when he turned himself in, and he wanted ... ​something​ good to hold onto -- to call back on.

So, instead, he offered her a small and tired smile as he nodded, "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have offered," he responded in a soft tone.

Allison

In movements that were slow and unsure and so unlike her, she acknowledged his words by moving closer to him and tucking her head onto his chest. She felt her heart twist as she rested a hand on his waist, cuddled up against him in a way that felt right but also seemed so wrong with the weight of whatever was unsaid between them. But he would be there in the morning - she could ask her questions and enjoy that moment, cuddled up against him.

Allison's eyes settled closed slowly, relaxing against him as she finally set herself at ease - knowing that she would have time to ask him what any of this meant. They would have time to figure this out, because if there was one constant in her life now, it seemed to be Stuart. "Night, Stu," She murmured, a sigh leaving her lips on the tail-end of his shortened name, tired and just the slightest bit ​content​.

Stuart

His heart gave a powerful and painful twinge in his chest when she curled up against him -- the pretenses of future guilt already hitting him harder than anything he could have expected from this. But, he swallowed it down as he thinned both of his lips together tightly. And instead was draping his arm over her waist and tugging her slightly closer -- selfishly allowing himself to enjoy her company and warmth, burrowing himself into her hair and closing his eyes.

He just hoped that she didn't ​hate​ him after tomorrow. His heart jolted again at the simple and tired ​Stu​ that fell from her lips -- the corner of his own twitching as he swallowed, " -- goodnight, Allison," he whispered just as softly.

#mission : chatzy #c: a. argent #chatzy log 004