#ask me about my dum dum writing
Note
So I’m happy I found you on Tumblr because I read Burnt Out a couple of days ago and LOVED IT. I wanted to see if maybe you can do a little spin-off or continuation of it with Mikey and Donnie because I’d love to see how they feel about romance and how they’d handle being in a relationship with a human.
Much love 🤎
Hi There! I'm guessing you read Burnt Out on AO3, I'm glad you found my Tumblr! Welcome to the Trash Pile! (affectionate term for my silly little blog)
I wanted to go ahead and answer this since I kinda have an answer to it, but I also don't lol. I'm sorry that's confusing, let me just explain-
I plan to do a story for each of the four turtles where they find romance, but the stories are not exactly connected together. So there will be stories for Donnie and Mikey (and Raph) but they don't necessarily fall in line with Burnt Out.
That being said, I did add two snippets under the line here. One focuses on tying up some loose ends with Leo, and the second one is focused more on what Raph got up to after leaving Reader in Burnt Out - again sorry that neither actually feature the turtle you've asked about, but rest assured they are in the planning!
SFW, but there's a lot of talk of body parts, make out scene in one, sleepy cuddles in the other
(Sorry I don't wanna tag a lot of people for an ask but @friggysblog i heard your 'chimp noises' over wanting to know what Raph got up to, and @tmnt-tychou cuz Leo cuddles)
LEO
The numbers on the alarm clock next to your bed said it was three in the morning, and at first you couldn’t understand what it was that woke you up. Your heart was pounding, breath high in your chest. You tried to raise an arm up to press against your face when a warmth caught your attention and you realized you weren’t alone in the bed.
Leo was curled up against your back, the crown of his head tucked against the back of yours, his breath slow and even against the nape of your neck. One large arm curled across your waist, inadvertently trapping your own underneath it. His thighs were sleep warm under the covers, hooked up against your own, the silky material of his pants doing little to block transferred body heat between the two of you.
He mumbled, the low low and rumbly, when you peeled your arms out from under his and stretched in the little space afforded. When you rolled slowly onto your back, he opened one sleepy eye, blue glitteringly reflecting the little light in your bedroom, the enlarged pupil enhancing the gleam when his eye swiveled to the side and the light bounced off it.
“S’…” He grunted when your knee knocked into the inside of his thigh. “Back t’ sleep.” He grumbled adorably, burying his nose back into the space where your neck dipped in to meet your shoulder. You shivered at the warm huff of his breath, and Leo answered with another of those calming rumbles.
“Leo?” You asked quietly, the whisper a huff of air released into the dark.
He grunted softly, and your lips tilted up, knowing he was closer to sleep than anything remotely capable of cognitive reasoning.
“What was with the growling, earlier?” You tapped along his arm, smoothed your palm against the muscles twitching under his skin.
“Danger.” He finally whispered. “Didn’t like- you in danger.” His answer was more sleepy insistence than anything guarded, and you realized he wouldn’t remember this, these questions, later in the morning.
You hummed to him, curious and a little mischievous. “...what did you talk to your dad about?”
Leo grumbled, as if he knew what you were doing. “S’ not… fair.”
You cooed, fighting not to smile, following the tug of his large hand when he rolled you further over to face him, his arm pressed against the bed sliding forward to curl up under your pillow.
He breathed in deep, arm across your waist thumbing up over your hip, your spine, tracing the bones in the dark, before he answered:
“S’don’t wanna talk bout that.” He whispered. “‘Nough that he told me… pull my head-“ He took a deep breath, his plastron pushing against your chest, your stomach- “out my ass. Now.” His eyes opened again, not as sleepy, regarding you with equal parts amusement and gentle censure. “Can we please go back t’ sleep?”
The last part was whispered lowly against your skin, one eye ridge raising in question before he pressed his lips to the spot, and your pulse jumped to meet the soft scrub.
It caused another low rumble, this one deeper in Leo’s chest, that accompanying thunk thunk thunk letting you know he caught the reaction.
“Sleep.” He reiterated, and you would have huffed a laugh, not knowing if the grumbled tone was directed towards you or himself, when he shifted closer, pulling you tighter against him. One leg hooked between yours, and the sigh he gave at the sensation of you against his chest was bone deep.
You melted against him, tucked your cheek against the curve of his bicep, and closed your eyes, trying to sync your breathing to his as he tipped back over into dreamland.
RAPH
Raph cocked his head, stood up from your living room couch and paced to the window. You watched as he peered out the curtain, arms tensed, before he checked the latch was locked and tugged the curtain closed fully.
“Everything ok?” You asked, watching him with concern, and he startled, head whipping around quickly like he had forgotten you were there.
“Yeah… sorry baby. Ninja senses acting up.”
“Well they’re pretty spot on.” You leaned your head against the back of the couch, watching him with a small smile. You loved to watch him move, the sway of his shoulders, somehow completely silent when he wanted to be. “If they say something’s up, I believe them.”
He sighed, the sound rough, and you blinked, not expecting that reaction to your praise.
“Nah, it’s nothing bad. Just wasn’t ready for it.”
“Ready for what?” You asked, not overly concerned because he was still loose. Even when he turned to give the window one last look before returning to the couch, you believed him when he said it wasn’t anything bad. Trusted him enough to only scoot closer when he sank onto the cushion next to you.
He caught your hand, grip gentle despite the calluses lining his palms, and you tipped one over without thinking, ran your thumb across the pad at the base of his fingers.
Raph didn’t pull away like the first couple of times you had done this, and you shifted to lay against him when he pushed a heavy arm between you and the couch and hauled you closer. He watched over your shoulder, free hand swiping over the muscle right above your elbow as you explored his other hand and traced the raised veins up his wrist. His head dipped to press his lips against the warm skin at the edge of your collar, breathed a puff of hot air that dampened the fabric of your sleep shirt.
“S’ my brother.” He finally rumbled, the sound thick and deep in his chest, and you involuntarily shivered at the vibration against your back. “Skulkin’ round. Only surprised he hasn’t done it before now.”
“Your brother?” You asked, and he hushed you, snout dipping closer to press a kiss to the skin behind your ear, before continuing.
“Yeah, m’ brother. He can read lips though, so let me do the talkin’.”
You snorted, the laugh jostling you against him. “You gonna try and tell me you’re using that as an excuse to press kisses against me?”
“Do I need an excuse to kiss my girl?” He asked against your skin, and you felt the pang of butterflies in your sternum at that easy claim.
“No.” You replied firmly, hating yourself for the blush that worked its way across your cheeks and down your throat, to where he could certainly see even if your gaze was kept firmly on his big hand.
Raph rumbled behind you, and you weren’t sure if it was a laugh or just happiness at your reaction, but you raised your knees, pressing further against him.
After a long moment, some unseen tension in his frame relaxed, and he released a shaky breath onto your shoulder, his open mouth sending a ghost of warmth down your back. You knew from that alone that his brother had moved on, left the two of you to cuddle without interference.
“You’re so soft.” He murmured finally, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Blows my mind how soft you are sometimes.”
You raised his hand at the compliment, brought his palm to your face and kissed it before tucking your cheek against it and scrubbing fondly. He turned the movement on its head with a hook of one finger, tipping your chin to the side and nudging your face closer to his for a kiss.
You sighed into it, careful with how you moved, aware he was larger, acknowledged the effort it took for him to keep it sweet and not end up kissing half your face. You wanted him to have good experiences kissing you, not fall back into the panic of the first time you’d dared to peck him and you both found out his instincts equated it to ‘shove my whole tongue in my partner’s mouth’.
Raph was worth the learning curve though, and that deepening rumble was especially sweet. You shifted, turned, rose up on your knees to face him, and he took advantage to slide his hand across the small of your back, hauled you closer. His hand tucked around the back of your neck, cupping the back, thumb sliding into your hair to hold you in place.
His lips were soft, the touch of the scar across his upper one sending a jolt through you with every brush against your own mouth. You cupped his jaw and scrubbed your thumbs across his cheeks, the growing warmth under his skin letting you know he particularly enjoyed that additional contact, and you smiled against him.
He pulled back minutely to transition into lingering pecks, causing your smile to grow.
“Wanna ask you something.” He spoke between kisses, and you hummed a question, shifting to wind your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his plastron. The vibration there turned into a fast paced thunk thunk thunk, and your smile turned cat-like when you noticed how muddled the skin of his face was turning.
His hands slid to your waist, tightened to hold you against him. “Come-“ You kissed him again, and he grunted into it, huffing out a sharp chuckle as you repeated the action “-come meet my family.”
You paused, leaned back a little, and considered him. Took in the way he didn’t shrink from your gaze, green eyes glittering and pupil blown wide, before nodding, rubbing your fingers against the ticklish muscles between his neck and carapace.
“I’d love to.” You told him firmly, and his mouth curved into that full blown, soft smile that turned his expression puppy sweet. Not the bedroom smirk you saw most often when he was trying to get out of trouble, but the one you coveted and held each instance you saw it close to your heart.
#my writing snippets#ask away!#ask me about my dum dum writing#tmnt bayverse#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#bayverse leonardo#bayverse raphael#bayverse leo x reader#bayverse raph x reader
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Timeless Love.
~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky might have met the love of his life in the middle of a war, he just wished he was able to live a life with her.
Word count: 6,598
Warnings: angst. kidnapping. fluff. Hydra. forced breeding. forced miscarriage.
A/N: enjoyed writing this!! Thank you for the request. Also thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me when I needed it!🤍
Part 2
Masterlist
“Y/n L/n. 107th.”
She nodded smiling at her friend who had also been given the same unit. All the nurses - professional and volunteers alike were waiting for their names to be called to hear what unit they would be stationed with.
Then she was given the news that she was going to be the matron. And at twenty four years old that was a massive accomplishment, herself and her parents were beyond proud.
“Hey doc” she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at hearing the familiar voice that she began hearing everyday. “I’m injured doll, need your help to patch me back up”
Looking up for the clipboard she carried around she saw the Sergeant who had captured all the attention from all the nurses. Though he never paid any mind to them, just her.
James Buchanan Barnes.
“Firstly I’m not a doctor, just a nurse and secondly this is your seventh time coming here this week”
“Firstly you should be a doctor, better than the one we’ve got and secondly I keep getting hurt”
“Bucky… it’s only Wednesday.”
“You love me. Aren’t you going to ask me what my very serious injury is?”
“I don’t love you. Okay, what seems to be the problem Sergeant?”
“Y-you don’t love me? I’m going to cry myself to sleep tonight thanks to you!”
“What’s your injury Sergeant?”
“My heart” he places his hand on his chest and looks up at her sympathetically. “My heart hurts doll”
“James… you do realise that your heart is on the left side not the right…”
Moving his hand to the left side “Oh… are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure” chuckling at his facial expression, he winks causing her to laugh.
“The truth is that I just wanted to see you, I like you even though you’re being mean to me” he pouts and bats his eyelashes as he kicked his legs back and forth.
“How am I being mean to you?” She asks whilst counting stock, trying her hardest to ignore the intense gaze of his ocean blue eyes on her back.
“Because you won’t let me take you dancing”
“You should go with one of the other nurses James”
“I don’t want any of the other nurses, just you”
“You-“
“Y/n! Y/n quick we need you!” Mary’s panic scream interrupted her. Jumping up and rushing out of the tent with Bucky right behind her, a group of men carrying a stretcher with a man lying on it. His right leg gone as well as his left arm.
“Get him in here” Bucky opens the flaps of the tent, his eyes trained on the young soldier as they passed him. “Help me transfer him on to the bed, carefully.”
Bucky watched on as Y/n took control, ordering the nurses around and trying to get the soldiers to move away so she could work. When one of the men wouldn’t move Bucky stepped in.
It wasn’t long before Y/n made everyone get out except for the nurses.
“Go” Bucky’s head snapped from the medical tent to Dum Dum sitting next to him, giving the man a questioning look, Dum Dum laughed. “The doc”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about” he mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.
“You’ve been turning down women all night and I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t burnt a hole into the tent with how intense you’ve been looking at it. Oh and let’s not forget that you’ve been obsessed from the second you laid eyes on her”
“I-no I haven’t.”
“You have, and don’t bother trying to argue with me. Go and talk to her”
“And say what?”
“That’s on you” Bucky contemplated on whether or not to take his friend’s advice, it didn’t take too long before he was getting up and heading over to the medical tent. “Shes in her own tent” he heard from behind him so he changed course.
Standing outside the small tent he fixed his hair before pushing the flap aside, he found her sitting hunched over the small table one hand in her hair and the other scribbling away as she filled in paperwork.
“I can feel your eyes on me” her whispered voice snapped him out of his head.
“Are you alright doll?”
“I’m fine don’t worry, go and enjoy your night”
Moving closer to her he saw the tears falling freely down her cheeks. “Hey, hey why are you crying doll?”
“He… he didn’t make it. I tried everything bu-but it wasn’t enough, he was only seventeen Bucky.”
“Oh doll. You did everything you could-“
“But it wasn’t enough! And within the week his parents are going to know I failed, I failed to save their son”
Bucky pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest ignoring the feeling of her tears wetting his shirt. “It’s not your fault” he whispered over and over again as she fell apart in his arms.
“I failed”
“No you didn’t! Nobody would have been able to have saved him Y/n and you know that.”
“He was only seventeen Bucky. A child!”
“I know sweetheart, I know.”
As the laughing and music continued outside Bucky kept Y/n close to his chest, rocking them both from side to side slowly. Sleep began to overtake them, being the gentleman that he was he turned his back on her waiting for her to change into her nightwear.
“Goodnight doll”
“Stay… please”
“Of course” he was slightly shocked by seeing her shifting over in the small cot then patting the space she had created.
Climbing in next to her, wrapping her up and pulling her into his chest. Pressing his lips to her forehead “goodnight my love”
It became an unspoken routine between the two of them that Bucky would sleep in her bed, they ignored the teasing from all those around them - as if the nurses weren’t warming the soldiers beds themselves. There was nothing sexual about what they were doing, it was just two lost souls finding themselves seeking shelter within one another.
That however changed one night when Bucky went into their now shared tent finding her once again hunched over the table. “Hi doll”
“Hi Sergeant”
“Me and the guys move out tomorrow”
“I heard. How are you feeling?” She asked looking up from the papers in front of her.
“Nervous I won’t lie, but I’m going to miss you”
“I’m going to miss you too but you shouldn’t be gone long, right?”
“Two weeks, three at the most” he shrugged. “Doll, come and dance with me”
“There’s no music…”
“So? Come on” he held his hand out for her to take, his heart fluttering with the look she gave him as she puts her hand in his. “You are so pretty” he whispers as they swayed together.
“‘M not.”
“Yes you are. From the second I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most prettiest dame I had ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re lying!” She chuckled.
“I am not!”
“If you say so”
Bucky gently raises her head up by her chin, “I have never lied to you.”
“Bucky… kiss me please” she asked softly. Their lips met slowly at first before growing heatedly and passionately.
The next morning with only a thick blanket covering their naked bodies they basked in the silence of the camp, Bucky running his fingers through her hair and Y/n drawing invisible circles on his chest.
“When this war comes to an end me and you are going to get married” Bucky declared as he broke the silence.
“Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Nope” he chuckled. “Why, don’t you want to marry me?”
“And put up with you for the rest of my life?”
“Yeah, why what’s wrong with that?”
“You’re annoying”.
“And?” He drawls with a cheeky grin on his face.
“I’ll probably smoother you in your sleep?”
“And? Doll you aren’t giving me a good reason for why we shouldn’t get married”
“You honestly want to marry me?”
“More than anything, and I promise I’ll be an amazing husband and we’ll have so much fun together an-“
“Yes”
“-d we’ll make so many memories-“
“Yes”
“-and we’ll grow old toge-wait… yes?”
“Yes Bucky, I’ll marry you when the war is ov-“ her words get cut off from him pressing his lips to hers.
“I can’t wait to annoy you for the rest of our lives together”
Later that morning, before Dum Dum led his unit out of the camp heading to only where they knew they were going Bucky ran over to Y/n giving her a kiss and promised her that he would come back to her.
Since the only people left there was the nurses, injured men and some of the officials the camp was excruciatingly quiet. And since it was only just them… well the camp had become very boring.
Two weeks passed quicker than she thought, waiting to hear the loud chatter from the men to fill in the silence yet it never came. Another week went by and again there was no sight of them. Y/n was helping Private Smith sit up in more of a comfortable position when Mary came rushing in, slightly out of breath.
“Th-they’ve been captured!”
“What? How do you know?”
“Word just come in, I overheard it but apparently Captain America is going to rescue them because he knows someone in the unit”
“I-okay. Okay erm… we’ll need to get things set up for when they come back just incase they are hurt” Y/n rambled off, unaware that she was squeezing Smiths hand - not like he minded.
“He’ll be fine darling” Smith squeezed her hand back.
“I-I know. You need to eat-“
“I will don’t worry but you need to eat too darling as well”
Sitting down next to him they enjoyed a nice meal together, Smith doing everything to help get her mind off of Bucky and the others by talking to her about his life before the war, his wife and children, telling her all the plans he had planned when he got home. It worked. Until it was time to go to bed, being alone with her thoughts made her mind come up with all kinds of scenarios and most of them weren’t good.
It was another two weeks before word got to them that they were coming back. Captain America had saved them.
Y/n was in the medical tent filling out paperwork when applause erupted in the air as Captain America approached with the 107th behind him, hearing the cheers she jumped up and began getting things ready, as the first person was brought in her sole attention was on the solider and not the other one she had been worrying about in the five weeks since she had seen him.
“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” She smiled at hearing his voice as she concentrated on the patient in front of her.
“He’s already asked about you” Ann says as she put pressure on the solider’s wound.
“Ah, your the famous doc that he wouldn’t shut up talking about”
“Excuse me?”
“Barnes? Yeah he wouldn’t stop talking about you, if you ask me he’s in love with you” the guy winked.
It wasn’t until everything in the medical tent had calmed down that she had heard his voice again. “I’m injured doll”
Spinning around she sees him standing there with a grin on his dirt covered face. “Who are you?”
“Your future husband, silly. Missed you doll”
“I missed you too” hearing her words he crossed over to where she stood and placed his hands on her face, cupping her face before placing his lips against hers. Both sighing in content at the feeling they had both been missing for weeks.
“Are you hurt? Where?”
“‘M not hurt my love, just messing with you”
“Are you not going to introduce me Buck?” A new voice cut through making them take a step apart from each other.
“Y/n this is Steve, Steve this is my doll” Y/n smiled at the blond who happily returned the expression.
“It’s nice to meet the woman who this one wouldn’t stop talking about”
“I didn’t talk about her once” Bucky rushed out. “I didn’t doll” shaking his head whilst looking at her.
“He’s actually not the first person to tell me that” Y/n winked at Steve making the man laugh.
“I hate the both of you.”
A celebration was held that night when they came back, the men sharing the tale of how they were captured - all teasing each other when they said they weren’t scared. Telling the women how Captain America had told them to leave but they refused, Dum Dum said that they arrived together and were going to be leaving together. Everyone including Y/n hanging on to every word that was spoken of their rescue and how they defeated the enemy.
Bucky never spoke a word, no, he was too lost in watching the flames of the fire-pit flickering off Y/n’s face. Mesmerised by the way her eyes shined so brightly in the darkness, audibly groaning as he watched her bite her lip - his mind going straight to the gutters.
Much later that night Bucky took his time in making love to her.
The 107th Infantry Regiment had been teamed up with Steve to take down an organisation, Bucky promised her that he would contact her whenever they set up camp for the night. Every night they spoke even if it was just for a few minutes, he told her where they were and asked how everything back at camp was going, before ending their call he would tell her that he was coming back to her.
The last time she spoke to him he informed her that they were in Austria, he made her giggle when he complained that they had to go up the alps, telling her how cold it was. He then shocked her by telling her that he was in love with her. Before she could even respond the connection cut off.
She knew there was something wrong when she never received another call from him, Mary and Ann told her that he was just busy and that he would come back and everything was going to be fine. Every time she tried to speak with the General about the update of where they were he just walked away from her.
For two months she didn’t hear anything from him or from anyone, for two months she spent her time trying to take her mind off of the brunette who had wormed himself into her heart.
Mary came running over to the river where Y/n was sitting watching as the ducks swam past her. “Y/n… they’re back.”
Jumping up and running to where the men were, she looked around for the man who she had been missing more than anything, her eyes moved frantically from man to man who all seemed to have a problem with making eye contact with her. Her heart settled when a hand rested itself on her shoulder.
“Darlin’ I-I need to talk to you” it was Dum Dum.
“W-where is he? Dum…”
“Come with me love” he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moved them to her tent. “I’m sorry darling, he… he didn’t make it”
“W-where is he though?”
“He fell off the train in the alps, we couldn’t find his body”
“No… no we need to fi-find him so his family can bury him… Dum please” his heart ached for the woman in front of him, all he could do was hold her in his arms as she broke down crying. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Bucky’s last words to Steve was him begging the blond to make sure he looked after Y/n.
After crying for a good solid ten minutes she removed herself from his arms, wiped her tears before nodding and walking out - leaving Dum Dum standing there dumbfounded.
She knew herself that she wasn’t going to be able to be aloud time away to mourn, they weren’t dating or married, while they had feelings for each other and they spent every waking moment together it didn’t mean anything to the higher ups. Walking into the medical tent everyone went quiet at seeing her, Mary tried telling her that she could go and rest but Y/n just shook her head and got to work. She needed the distraction to take her mind away from the pain in her chest.
For months after she became a shell of herself, no longer laughing or smiling, no longer holding conversations with anyone, always working and taking little care for herself. And finally that day came when the war ended, everyone around her celebrated whilst she was packing up her things ready to head back home.
It had been two years since the war ended and people were still picking up their lives. Y/n was on her way to home after finishing her shift at the local hospital when a black car pulled up alongside her.
“Excuse me Miss, are you Y/n L/n?” A man asked as he got out of the car.
“I am, who are you?”
“Ah, we have a friend in common”
“We do? Wait what are you do-“
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be Miss L/n, wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes were wide as his hand tightened around her neck, her whole body trembling with fear. “Nighty night” he smirks as he presses a needle into her left arm.
Y/n woke up disoriented and dazed with her hands and ankles tied painfully tight, trying to speak but her words came out as slurred. “Ah little lambs awake. Go back to sleep little lamb” the same guy from side of the road spoke, but instead of a needle being pushed into her arm he raised his leg and kicked her straight in the face. Knocking her out instantly.
The second time she awoke was when a bucket of stale water was thrown into her face, both arms tied to arms of the chair she was uncomfortably sat in. A man infront of her smiled as she was trying to blink away the water droplets off her eyelashes.
“So you’re the precious little one that our Soldat keeps muttering about, no matter how many times we wipe his memories he always mutters your name”
“I-I don’t know who you are talking about”
“Soldat! You know him” the unnamed man shouts as if it was the most obvious thing. “Get her ready. Miss… I won’t lie to you, what’s going to happen next is going to hurt… well have fun” the man sighs dramatically and then chuckles making his way to the door, leaving her alone with four men holding guns.
Everything that happened next happened in a blur from two of the men grabbing her roughly and dragging her down the corridor, to being strapped down on a cold metal table - a meek looking man muttering something to her that she couldn’t quite understand before a large needle was injected into her arm.
When she woke the next time she was in a small room - on the floor, that only had a chipped white framed bed with a thin mattress on top of it, she grimaced at seeing the blotches of stains. Her nose crunched upward at the nasty aroma lingering the room. Y/n flinched at hearing noises just outside, she could hear clearly that a man was laughing which caused her to back away and put her hands over her ears trying desperately to block out the sound. Not understanding why everything was amplified.
“Ah, little lamb you’re awake. I’m pleased to tell you that it’s worked, your going to be our new little asset-“
“W-what have you done to me?”
“We’ve made you stronger than any man could wish to be! We’ve made you fast-“
“What have you done!”
“Right, we’ve injected you with a special serum that’s enhanced you. Your lucky little lamb, those before you never made it past the thirty minute mark after injection. Now you’re ready for your second phase of becoming our little asset, boys… be careful with her.” The second he finished his sentence the same four men from before came in and grabbed her roughly once again.
Being dragged down a corridor and into a room she tried to beg the men to let her go, pleading with them that she had a family and they’d be looking for her, she even tried bribing them. Her begs and cries fell on deaf ears.
“Now little lamb, from what I can gather is that this chair here, a beauty in her own right isn’t actually nice to those that sit in her. She’s not exactly been kind to your little boyfriend but that’s because he tries to fight it, I’m going to be kind to you and suggest that you don’t do the same as him otherwise it will hurt more.” He waved his hand in the air lazily and the two agents that had ahold of her shoved her towards the chair, once sat they strapped her legs down and placed a strap across her chest.
“P-please stop ple-“
“None of that little lamb, it’s not going to hurt… much” he chuckles. “Try not to scream, it’ll will only annoy me”
She goes to reply when a loud buzzing sound came from both sides to her, frozen and strapped into place as two metal plates places themselves onto her face. Y/n could hear the man in a white coat start to count down from five, squeezing her eyes shut tightly she saw a blinding white light as her whole body spasmed and withered in pain. The agents all flinched as the glass behind them started to crack. Once it finished and the plates were moved away from her head, her head started to roll to the side as drool began seeping from her mouth.
“Little lamb, do you remember me?”
“W-w-where am I?” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and her tongue felt heavy.
“What’s your name?”
“Y-Y/n”
“Do it again”
By the eighth time of having her mind wiped the window was gone, she had blood seeping from her ears and nose, her bottom half was wet. After they were done with her she was dragged back to her cell and tossed on the ground as if she was nothing.
Y/n had forgotten everything. She didn’t know who she was or where she was. They kept calling her little lamb. Crawling into the corner of the room she pulled her knees up to her chest and began mumbling incoherently to herself.
Every time she closed her eyes all she saw was a blacked out face with the brightest blue eyes.
For years she moved and breathed when they told her too, she spoke when they said, she ate when they told her to eat - not like it was much mind you.
Throughout those years she didn’t understand her purpose of why she was there, she never got to leave the place she was kept at, all she did was train and fight with those who were a lot bigger then her in height and weight.
What she didn’t realise is that she did have a purpose for those she worked for, and that she was leaving the base to do their bidding. Completely unaware that she had taken so many lives.
She didn’t know what they were injecting into her every few months was the sperm belonging to the Winter Soldier in hopes that they could create an army of pure bred super soldiers that they could use to fight and take down their enemies without themselves having to do anything. Or that the nurse who seemed to take pity on her would give her a tablet to force the innocent little foetus to never grow up in a world that it would only be used for pain and suffering.
She didn’t understand what she had done wrong, one minute she was training with the other super soldiers and then she was being hit and shocked by the batons and then dragged to the room that kept the cryostasis chambers, she pleaded with the agents that she would be good, begging them not to put her in there again but they didn’t listen. Her whole body stiffened when they gave her the option - chamber or chair.
She hated the chamber.
But she hated the chair even more.
“See you in a little while little lamb.”
Fury had told them that SHIELD had discovered a new Hydra base and that they needed to go and take it down, not even an hour later they were fifteen minutes away from touching down at the location of the base.
“Cap, it looks deserted…” Natasha said as she slid her gun into her holster.
“We still need to be cautious” Steve told them. He tapped his foot against Bucky’s to gain his attention. “You okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. Seriously punk I’m fine”
“Alright. Everyone be careful.”
They moved quietly and slowly towards the base - that had seen better days - without any trouble, getting inside they all stole quick glances at Bucky making him sigh. “No I’ve never been here before”
“Didn’t say anything Barnes”
“You didn’t need too”
As they moved further inside it became obvious that they were the only ones there, apart from a few rats running around. Steve gave the orders out, him and Wanda going together down one hallway, Bucky and Sam - which he did mainly to annoy his best friend, Natasha and Tony going off to find the computers to see if they can get anything off them.
“How long do you think this place has been empty for?” Wanda asked.
“Not sure… it looks like awhile.”
“Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are they all open?” Wanda points at cryo chambers, looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know? But let’s keep looking there has to be something here for us to ta-“ Wanda cuts him off with a gasp. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a woman, she’s pretty…”
“What are you- Y/n?” Wanda’s head snapped from the woman in the chamber to the blond standing next to her.
“Do-do you know her? Wait… Y/n?”
Pressing his comms button Steve tells Bucky to come to where he was, told him to hurry up, hearing the distress tone of their captain Nat and Tony also went along too.
“Steve is this the same Y/n that Bucky calls out for in his sleep?” Wanda asked, watching him nodding slowly she looked down sadly.
The team had slowly grown use to Bucky screaming and hearing him thrash around in his sleep and had even witnessed him trashing him room trying to escape, thinking and believing he was still at the Hydra base he was kept at. One night it had actually taken all of them to try and pin him down on the ground after a horrific nightmare, it took Thor to grab Mjölnir to place it on Bucky’s naked chest to pin him down and for Wanda to use her magic to clear his mind just so they could get him to calm down. She apologised profusely for it the next day but he just smiled, placed his hand on hers gently and thanked her. But every night without fail they all heard him mumbling or crying out for Y/n and none of them wanted to overstep that boundary by asking him directly so they asked Steve who this person was and all he told them was that it wasn’t his place to say anything but that she meant the world to Bucky. And after that they let it be though they were all curious.
And now Wanda was staring up at the woman who had been on her friends mind for so long, she didn’t know how Bucky was going to react to seeing her here.
“Steve?” Bucky stood at the doorway with Sam, Natasha and Tony behind him. “What’s up?”
“Buck… she-she’s here”
“Who?”
Steve watched as Bucky paled and his eyes got shinier with tears filling them. “Y/n.”
“N-no no you’re lying Steve.” His eyes moved to Wanda when he noticed her shifting from foot to foot. He knew by the look on her face that what Steve was saying wasn’t a lie.
He moved slowly to where Wanda stood, never taking his eyes off her until he stood in front of her, it wasn’t until she gave him a sad smile that he finally looked to his right. A choked sob was the only sound in the whole building. Wanda tried to grab him before he fell but it was no use, Bucky landed with a loud thud on his knees as he looked up at the woman he had fallen madly in love with in the forties. The woman he had made a promise too. A promise he couldn’t keep.
“St-Steve we need-I need to get her out of here”
“I know Buck, I know but we need to be careful, we don’t know how long she’s been in there for”
“We can’t leave her!”
“We aren’t going to leave her Barnes, just give me a few minutes to try and figure out how we’re going to get sleeping beauty out of here, okay?” Tony says before looking around the room to find a way to get her out.
As everyone moved around the room trying to find a way to get her out of the chamber Bucky stayed on his knees looking helplessly up at her. “That’s why you couldn’t find her, she’s been here”
“I tried Buck-“
“No, I know you did. H-how long do you think she’s been here for?”
“I… I don’t know”
Not long after, Tony managed to find a way to open up the door to the chamber without causing any damage to Y/n. They all shivered as the cold air hits them, Bucky took the straps off her and took her gently into his arms. His body tensed when Tony injected something into her arm. “It’s just to keep her asleep until we get back to the tower”.
Steve told him to take Y/n onto the jet so they could finish off clearing the base, they all watched as he carried her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world.
“Steve, she’s a super solider” Nat looked over at him from the computer.
“Have you found anything else about her?”
“She’s got way more kills under her belt than I do, they call her little lamb” saying that nickname made her nose scrunch up. “And… oh Steve, they’ve been injecting her with Bucky’s sperm, it never worked” Steve’s eyes burned a hole into the computer screen angry at everything that he was hearing.
“Sh-she was a nurse you know? A great one, all the men said they loved going to her because she was just the kindest of them all. She deserved so much better than this.”
“Steve she’s been in cryo for twelve years… they wrote down when they were put in and taken out, she was never taken out twelve years ago”
“Jesus. Right, gather everything you can on Y/n and I’ll meet you on the jet”
Leaving Natasha to do what she did best he went to the jet, he stood there watching as Bucky stroke his fingers through the top of her head, not taking his eyes off her face.
“I-I’ve put blankets on her from the back, she’s still freezing Stevie.”
“Buck, there’s something I need to tell you about her.”
“What is it?”
“She’s like us, she’s got the serum too. T-they were trying to impregnate her with-with your… you know, and Nat found out that she’s been in cryo for twelve years”
“T-they don’t care do they? They don’t care who they hurt or the pain they inflict, they-they’ve hurt the sweetest, big hearted person and for what? Just to leave her in there for all those years? It’s my fault isn’t it?”
“No Buck, it’s not your fault-“
“It has to be, I kept saying her name when they first got me. I didn’t want to forget her so I kept saying her name and look what happened!”
“Bucky it’s not- don’t try and interrupt me- it’s not your fault. But we’ve found her and she’s going to come home with us and we can help her”
“Did she do bad things too?” His voice was so small and quiet that it was lucky that Steve had enhanced hearing otherwise he wouldn’t have heard what his friend said.
“Yes but Buck we know her, we know she’s a good person just like you she’s been made to do bad but we can help her, I promise you”
“We’ll all defend her tin-man” Tony says, when both men look over they see the four of them nodding in agreement.
Two weeks after finding his only love and brining her back to the compound Bucky refused to move away from her hospital bed, on the fourth day Steve had to beg him to come with him to get some food - it wasn’t until his stomach growled in hunger that he finally accepted Steve’s offer, he left her with a kiss on her forehead and made Natasha and Wanda watch over her, made them both promise to ring him the second Y/n started to stir awake.
Steve then tried to get him to leave just so he could get a good night sleep or to have a shower but the brunette shrugged him off - it wasn’t until Dr Cho came in and told him to get a shower, told him that he should be clean and smell nice for when Y/n woke up. That had him running to his room and showering quickly before running back down to her.
It was better than nothing.
“Steve?”
“Mhm”
“What’s Fury going to do when Y/n wakes up?”
“Nothing, him and Tony have already pleaded her case and all she’s got to do when she wakes is give all the information she can remember. Fury is positive that she’ll be be fully pardoned and he thinks that she could be an asset to the team, that is if she wants to stay”
“W-why-do you think she’ll want to leave?”
“I don’t know Bucky”
“Would you be mad at me if I left with her?”
“No. I would be mad though if you didn’t invite me over for dinner” Bucky let out a laugh whilst he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.
Steve and Wanda had left after spending a couple of hours keeping Bucky company as he watched over Y/n, he was just starting to drift off to sleep when he felt her hand twitch.
“Y/n? Doll?” Another twitch. “Doll, come on wake up”
Bucky shot straight up knocking the chair backwards when Y/n jumped up out of the bed, falling down instantly, he watched as she pulled herself to the wall bringing her knees to her chest, her eyes moving around the room frantically. Her voice hoarse as she mumbles softly to herself, Bucky slowly moved around the bed.
“Doll? Y/n it-its me Bucky”
“Bucky?”
“Yes, yes it’s me” she says his name again, her teared filled eyes looking straight at him. “You’re safe.”
“W-where are we?”
“Somewhere safe, I promise.”
“They will be here for me” slowly standing up, ignoring the blood seeping down her arm she moved over to Bucky. “I-I need to leave, I need to go back home, they-they’ll be mad at me”
“Y/n hey, hey stop, doll look at me, they aren’t looking for you okay? You’re safe here, I’m not letting anyone hurt you again. I promise”
“You promise?”
“I promise” Bucky moved closer as soon as she was in reach he pulled her in his chest, squeezing her tightly, repeatedly pressing his lips to her hair.
Helen came in a little later to run some checks, talking to Y/n like she was an actual person and not like she was a nobody like she was use to, when she said thank you it meant more than just a simple gesture. The next day Steve, Sam and Wanda walked into the hospital room shocked to seeing Y/n sitting up and talking to Bucky, though they had slowly gotten use to seeing Bucky coming out of his shell even after all these years of knowing him Sam and Wanda stood there watching Bucky be a whole new person, the only person that didn’t find it weird was Steve who had a huge smile on his face, happy to see his best friend finally happy and at peace now that he had Y/n with him.
When Fury got word that she was awake he came down to see her, she answered all of the questions he had as best as she could. Fury reassured both her and Bucky that nothing would happen to her.
A month after waking up Y/n hand in hand with Bucky sat in a room with the team standing behind them, Fury at the end of the table and members of the government in front of them. She was nervous to hear what punishment she was going to receive, yes Fury promised that she wouldn’t be but when Bucky finally caved and told her all of the crimes she was connected to - not only did her heart break at hearing the things that she did but she feared what kind of punishment she was going to receive, she felt like she needed to be.
“Y/n L/n you are granted a full pardon, but you will need to be a part of the Avengers-“
“That’s not what we agreed on!” Fury interrupted the man.
“It’s the best thing-“
“I’ll do it. I-I need to do it” Y/n nodded.
Bucky and Steve had to beg Tony not to throw a party to celebrate Y/n’s freedom and her new role in the team of superheroes, he reluctantly agreed but told them they needed to do something as a team for her. Bucky told him a nice meal would do, it wouldn’t push her out of the comfort zone she had created for herself, so that’s what they did. Their laughter throughout the meal bounced off the walls as Y/n was retelling her memories of the antics Bucky would get up to during camp, told them how she managed to push Steve in to the river when he refused to go into the water.
In that month Bucky had been sleeping in bed with Y/n after she begged him to stay with her, and that night was no different. The team no longer heard Bucky’s screams because he no longer had nightmares.
“Y/n”
“Yeah?”
“I never stopped loving you, you know?”
“I’ve never stopped loving you either.” She smiled up at him. Slowly their lips met, both sighing at the familiar feeling that they had been deprived of feeling for nearly eighty years.
Just as Bucky closed his eyes to get some sleep he began chuckling when he heard Y/n’s question.
“Are you still going to marry me so I can put up with you for the rest of my life?”
“I made a promise didn’t I?”
Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader.#bucky fic#Bucky Barnes angst#bucky x y/n angst#bucky x y/n fluff#Bucky x you#Bucky x y/n#bucky x you fluff#bucky x reader angst#Bucky x you angst#tw miscarriage#tw forced breeding
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hellooo can i request a hades , Poseidon , and Hermes with a Dum Dum orange cat type of reader(female)
How would they handle the reader , and how would they just try to get the reader to not just do anything dumb enough to injure or kill her tyyy
Type of Writing: Request
Characters: Hades, Poseidon, and Hermes
Name: {Character} with their Dumb-Dumb! Reader
Requester: Anonymous
A/N: Honestly, I kinda vibe with this reader. My brain just shuts down whenever I finish a task and I look back going, 'how the hell did I do this?' like five seconds afterwards.
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
💀 He was one of the smartest Gods known anywhere, Valhalla and Earth alike. But you, you were known around Valhalla for your 'idiocy', as declared by many
💀 Now, as rude and sad as that may sound, your husband somehow couldn't fully disagree with those claims
💀 Hades would just be working on some paperwork given to him by Zeus when one of his guards would walk in with a tired expression to announce to the God that you had gotten into an accident
💀 And by accident, I mean by you were just walking around and somehow stumbled into multiple different paint cans and got covered head to tow in the multiple colors of paint
💀 Your husband has gone to many measures to make sure you didn't somehow injure, or worse, killed yourself, because of your moments of flat-mindedness
💀 He had gotten some, in other's words, baby-proofing materials installed, including covering electric outlets, since one time you stuck a fork in there for who knows what reason, and a place to keep medications and vitamins out of your reach
💀 Needless to say, one time you saw your daily vitamins on the counter-top and you pushed the bottle over to get more to fall out
💀 And when Hades saw that nearly one fourth of the container was gone, he nearly had a heart-attack because of how much he was overthinking
💀 Whenever someone asks why your vitamins were locked up in a closet with the key being constantly around Hades, he would just answer with
" To keep it plain and simple, my dear S/O had gotten into the old container and nearly gave me a, what humans describe, heart-attack. "
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
🔱 He was put off by how, in his words, 'mind-numbingly ignorant' you were when it came to, well, literally anything
🔱 Poseidon is a very serious individual, even among the God's standards, he was very stoic and cold appearing. So, when you have that information and you compare you to him, it's a surprise he hasn't tried killing you yet
🔱 Unlike Hades, he discovered your idiocy quite fast, since he didn't really act, he preferred to watch and observe how people act
🔱 Your husband, like his brother, was normally busy with different things, from making sure his ocean's waves measured well according to schedule, to making sure that the paperwork he had to commission to his oldest brother was done, this guy was on average fairly busy
🔱 Though, whenever he would get a fair amount of time off, he would head off to his S/O and make sure they were okay
🔱 This guy had been dealing with your actions for many years, and in that time you haven't stopped getting a bruise every week, whether it be from hitting your tow or running into an object, he had never gotten a week off from your injuries
🔱 While he may not show it, Poseidon really does care about you, but, unlike his oldest, he protects you in another way
🔱 He doesn't baby-proof his home, he finds that to be dumb. If there is a creature that dumb in the world, they don't deserve life, his words, not mine! Though they do change if you guys have children
🔱 Instead, Poseidon just puts either a couple guards to be by your side to make sure you didn't somehow mess up an entire room just by getting scared by a, in your words, 'flying cucumber', or, he'll have you positioned around him so he could watch over you
🔱 The latter happens more often, though. And whenever you have to be around him, he'll make sure that you have something to mess with, just so you didn't end up destroying something else somehow
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
📨 Unlike many beings that you and him have met, Hermes loves how you get into trouble at random, it gives you an aura of mystery and difference, and he likes that
📨 Hermes loves to, when he can, watch you as you just walk around and get into trouble, like that one time where you ended up getting chased around by geese because you fell out of a tree while playing with Heracles and Ares when you were younger
📨 Whenever you would end up getting into trouble with another Deity, your husband would appear out of nowhere and distract the person as you escaped
📨 This guy loves writing songs in devotion of others, take the human fighters from Ragnarok into account, and for you? He has nearly five folders full of songs dedicated to you
📨 One of his favorite memories of you was when he was coming home from work and he stumbled upon two of his father's allies, Shiva, the head of the Hindu Pantheon, and Apollo, the Greek's God of the Sun
📨 The two men ran up to him dounced in a mixture of paint, glue, and a ton of multi-color glitter, and that alerted him that something happened, and it definitely would give him some kind of blackmail
📨 So, when they asked where you were, Hermes just chuckled and pat their shoulders, making sure his gloves didn't get any of the colorful mix on the white fabric, and he told them you were staying with Aphrodite for the night, despite knowing you were at home hiding from the angry duo
📨 When he eventually arrived home, he ushered you out and began to comfort you from your scared faze, which was understandable. And, when he asked if you wanted to see the photos he sneakily took, he chuckled as your eyes lit up
📨 You may be quite danger-prone and not the brightest star in the sky, but, he loved you for that
#Record of Ragnarok#RoR#Shuumatsu no Valkyrie#SnV#RoR Greek Pantheon#Record of Ragnarok Gods#RoR Gods#Record of Ragnarok x Reader#RoR x Reader#Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader#SnV x Reader#RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader#Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader#RoR Gods x Reader#S/O! Reader#GN! Reader#RoR Hades#RoR Hades x Reader#RoR Poseidon#RoR Poseidon x Reader#RoR Hermes#RoR Hermes x Reader
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A year in illustration, 2023 edition (part one)
(This is part one; part two is here.)
I am objectively very bad at visual art. I am bad at vision, period – I'm astigmatic, shortsighted, color blind, and often miss visual details others see. I can't even draw a stick-figure. To top things off, I have cataracts in both eyes and my book publishing/touring schedule is so intense that I keep having to reschedule the surgeries. But despite my vast visual deficits, I thoroughly enjoy making collages for this blog.
For many years now – decades – I've been illustrating my blog posts by mixing public domain and Creative Commons art with work that I can make a good fair use case for. As bad as art as I may be, all this practice has paid off. Call it unseemly, but I think I'm turning out some terrific illustrations – not all the time, but often enough.
Last year, I rounded up my best art of the year:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/25/a-year-in-illustration/
And I liked reflecting on the year's art so much, I decided I'd do it again. Be sure to scroll to the bottom for some downloadables – freely usable images that I painstakingly cut up with the lasso tool in The Gimp.
The original AD&D hardcover cover art is seared into my psyche. For several years, there were few images I looked at so closely as these. When Hasbro pulled some world-beatingly sleazy stuff with the Open Gaming License, I knew just how to mod Dave Trampier's 'Eve Of Moloch' from the cover of the Players' Handbook. Thankfully, bigger nerds than me have identified all the fonts in the image, making the remix a doddle.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/12/beg-forgiveness-ask-permission/#whats-a-copyright-exception
Even though I don't keep logs or collect any analytics, I can say with confidence that "Tiktok's Enshittification" was the most popular thing I published on Pluralistic this year. I mixed some public domain Brother's Grimm art, mixed with a classic caricature of Boss Tweed, and some very cheesy royalty-free/open access influencer graphics. One gingerbread cottage social media trap, coming up:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys
To illustrate the idea of overcoming walking-the-plank fear (as a metaphor for writing when it feels like you suck) I mixed public domain stock of a plank, a high building and legs, along with a procedurally generated Matrix "code waterfall" and a vertiginous spiral ganked from a Heinz Bunse photo of a German office lobby.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/22/walking-the-plank/
Finding a tasteful way to illustrate a story about Johnson & Johnson losing a court case after it spent a generation tricking women into dusting their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talcum was a challenge. The tulip (featured in many public domain images) was a natural starting point. I mixed it with Jesse Wagstaff's image of a Burning Man dust-storm and Mike Mozart's shelf-shot of a J&J talcum bottle.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit
"Google's Chatbot Panic" is about Google's long history of being stampeded into doing stupid things because its competitors are doing them. Once it was Yahoo, now it's Bing. Tenniel's Tweedle Dee and Dum were a good starting point. I mixed in one of several Humpty Dumpty editorial cartoon images from 19th century political coverage that I painstakingly cut out with the lasso tool on a long plane-ride. This is one of my favorite Humpties, I just love the little 19th C businessmen trying to keep him from falling! I finished it off with HAL 9000's glowing red eye, my standard 'this is about AI' image, which I got from Cryteria's CC-licensed SVG.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/16/tweedledumber/#easily-spooked
Though I started writing about Luddites in my January, 2022 Locus column, 2023 was the Year of the Luddite, thanks to Brian Merchant's outstanding Blood In the Machine:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen
When it came time to illustrate "Gig Work Is the Opposite of Steampunk," I found a public domain weaver's loft, and put one of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes in the window. Magpie Killjoy's Steampunk Magazine poster, 'Love the Machine, Hate the Factory,' completed the look.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/12/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk/
For the "small, non-profit school" that got used as an excuse to bail out Silicon Valley Bank, I brought back Humpty Dumpty, mixing him with a Hogwartsian castle, a brick wall texture, and an ornate, gilded frame. I love how this one came out. This Humpty was made for the SVB bailout.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/23/small-nonprofit-school/#north-country-school
The RESTRICT Act would have federally banned Tiktok – a proposal that was both technically unworkable and unconstitutional. I found an early 20th century editorial cartoon depicting Uncle Sam behind a fortress wall that was keeping a downtrodden refugee family out of America. I got rid of most of the family, giving the dad a Tiktok logo head, and I put Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes over each cannonmouth. Three Boss Tweed moneybag-head caricatures, adorned with Big Tech logos, rounded it out.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/30/tik-tok-tow/#good-politics-for-electoral-victories
When Flickr took decisive action to purge the copyleft trolls who'd been abusing its platform, I knew I wanted to illustrate this with Lucifer being cast out of heaven, and the very best one of those comes from John Milton, who is conveniently well in the public domain. The Flickr logo suggested a bicolored streaming-light-of-heaven motif that just made it.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/01/pixsynnussija/#pilkunnussija
Old mainframe ads are a great source of stock for a "Computer Says No" image. And Congress being a public building, there are lots of federal (and hence public domain) images of its facade.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/04/cbo-says-no/#wealth-tax
When I wrote about the Clarence Thomas/Harlan Crow bribery scandal, it was easy to find Mr. Kjetil Ree's great image of the Supreme Court building. Thomas being a federal judge, it was easy to find a government photo of his head, but it's impossible to find an image of him in robes at a decent resolution. Luckily, there are tons of other federal judges who've been photographed in their robes! Boss Tweed with the dollar-sign head was a great stand-in for Harlan Crow (no one knows what he looks like anyway). Gilding Thomas's robes was a simple matter of superimposing a gold texture and twiddling with the layers.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/06/clarence-thomas/#harlan-crow
"Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in wage-stealing Skinner boxes" is one of my best titles. This is the post where I introduce the idea of "twiddling" as part of the theory of enshittification, and explain how it relates to "reverse centaurs" – people who assist machines, rather than the other way around. Finding a CC licensed modular synth was much harder than I thought, but I found Stephen Drake's image and stitched it into a mandala. Cutting out the horse's head for the reverse centaur was a lot of work (manes are a huuuuge pain in the ass), but I love how his head sits on the public domain high-viz-wearing warehouse worker's body I cut up (thanks, OSHA!). Seeing as this is an horrors-of-automation story, Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes make an appearance.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
Rockefeller's greatest contribution to our culture was inspiring many excellent unflattering caricatures. The IWW's many-fists-turning-into-one-fist image made it easy to have the collective might of workers toppling the original robber-baron.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men
I link to this post explaining how to make good Mastodon threads at least once a week, so it's a good thing the graphic turned out so well. Close-cropping the threads from a public domain yarn tangle worked out great. Eugen Rochko's Mastodon logo was and is the only Affero-licensed image ever to appear on Pluralistic.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/16/how-to-make-the-least-worst-mastodon-threads/
I spent hours on the sofa one night painstakingly cutting up and reassembling the cover art from a science fiction pulp. I have a folder full of color-corrected, high-rez scans from an 18th century anatomy textbook, and the cross-section head-and-brain is the best of the lot.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/04/analytical-democratic-theory/#epistocratic-delusions
Those old French anatomical drawings are an endless source of delight to me. Take one cross-sectioned noggin, mix in an old PC mainboard, and a vector art illo of a virtuous cycle with some of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes and you've got a great illustration of Google's brain-worms.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/
Ireland's privacy regulator is but a plaything in Big Tech's hand, but it's goddamned hard to find an open-access Garda car. I manually dressed some public domain car art in Garda livery, painstakingly tracing it over the panels. The (public domain) baby's knit cap really hides the seams from replacing the baby's head with HAL9000's eye.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town
Naked-guy-in-a-barrel bankruptcy images feel like something you can find in an old Collier's or Punch, but I came up snake-eyes and ended up frankensteining a naked body into a barrel for the George Washington crest on the Washington State flag. It came out well, but harvesting the body parts from old muscle-beach photos left George with some really big guns. I tried five different pairs of suspenders here before just drawing in black polyhedrons with little grey dots for rivets.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income
Illustrating Amazon's dominance over the EU coulda been easy – just stick Amazon 'A's in place of the yellow stars that form a ring on the EU flag. So I decided to riff on Plutarch's Alexander, out of lands to conquer. Rama's statue legs were nice and high-rez. I had my choice of public domain ruin images, though it was harder thank expected to find a good Amazon box as a plinth for those broken-off legs.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon
God help me, I could not stop playing with this image of a demon-haunted IoT car. All those reflections! The knife sticking out of the steering wheel, the multiple Munsch 'Scream'ers, etc etc. The more I patchked with it, the better it got, though. This one's a banger.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
To depict a "data-driven dictatorship," I ganked elements of heavily beribboned Russian military dress uniforms, replacing the head with HAL9000's eye. I turned the foreground into the crowds from the Nuremberg rallies and filled the sky with Matrix code waterfall.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/26/dictators-dilemma/#garbage-in-garbage-out-garbage-back-in
The best thing about analogizing DRM to demonic possession is the wealth of medieval artwork to choose from . This one comes from the 11th century 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros.' I mixed in the shiny red Tesla (working those reflections!), and a Tesla charger to make my point.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world
Yet more dividends from those old French anatomical plates: a flayed skull, a detached jaw, a quack electronic gadget, a Wachowski code waterfall and some HAL 9000 eyes and you've got a truly unsettling image of machine-compelled speech.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai
I had no idea this would work out so well, but daaaamn, crossfading between a Wachowski code waterfall and a motherboard behind a roiling thundercloud is dank af.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers
Of all the turkeys-voting-for-Christmas self-owns conservative culture warriors fall for, few can rival the "banning junk fees is woke" hustle. Slap a US-flag Punisher logo on and old-time card imprinter, add a GOP logo to a red credit-card blank, and then throw in a rustic barn countertop and you've got a junk-fee extracter fit for the Cracker Barrel.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping
Putting the Verizon logo on the Hinderberg was an obvious gambit (even if I did have to mess with the flames a lot), but the cutout of Paul Marcarelli as the 'can you hear me now?' guy, desaturated and contrast-matched, made it sing.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/10/smartest-guys-in-the-room/#can-you-hear-me-now
Note to self: Tux the Penguin is really easy to source in free/open formats! He looks great with HAL9000 eyes.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means
Rockwell's self-portrait image is a classic; that made it a natural for a HAL9000-style remix about AI art. I put a bunch of time into chopping and remixing Rockwell's signature to give it that AI look, and added as many fingers as would fit on each hand.
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/
(Images: Heinz Bunse, West Midlands Police, Christopher Sessums, CC BY-SA 2.0; Mike Mozart, Jesse Wagstaff, Stephen Drake, Steve Jurvetson, syvwlch, Doc Searls, https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosaic36/14231376315, Chatham House, CC BY 2.0; Cryteria, CC BY 3.0; Mr. Kjetil Ree, Trevor Parscal, Rama, “Soldiers of Russia” Cultural Center, Russian Airborne Troops Press Service, CC BY-SA 3.0; Raimond Spekking, CC BY 4.0; Drahtlos, CC BY-SA 4.0; Eugen Rochko, Affero; modified)
#pluralistic#illustration#collage#fair use#creative commons#stock art#blogging#art#practice makes perfect
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love.jpg - LN
pairing: fem!uni student x lando norris
synopsis: lando gets invested in working with cameras after you talk about your day in photography class and you two discover a new language of love <;33
type: writing + instagram au
a/n: finally writing up the very first writing for my new series until i found you. and ik i have been super super lacked in writing. you guys have no idea how much and many ideas ive got but procastination takes the most of it! im trying my best to work upon it and now that my finals are nearing, i may try to write as a stress breaker soo fingers crossed.
until next one, happy reading <;33
part 2 is out now!! check it out :))
. . . .
You came home from your last class of the semester from uni. As much as you love photography and graphic design, its definitely tiresome when being pursued as a Masters degree. But you won't complain much about it cause at the end of the day, you love what you do. And so does your boyfriend.
"Congrats on completing another semester, bubba!" Lando greets as he speed walks to you and engulfs you in a hug.
You drop your bags carefully and hug him back tight as you mourn in exhaustion. Your whole body gives up that Lando was quick to pick you up and let the both of you fall on the couch. Chuckles leave from your mouth as he leans in and kissed your forehead.
"I'm so so proud of you, Y/N/N" He says, looking into your eye, pinning your hair behind the ear as he rests his hand on your cheek.
"I haven't completed my course, Lan"
"Yet. And soon you will be my personal photographer and designer for Quadrant" Lando says very proudly.
"Well in that case, be ready to say goodbye to your bank accounts" you say, smirking at him as you squish his cheeks.
"I'll be happy to make our joint accounts"
"It's a deal then!"
. . . .
"So tell me about your project?" Lando asks as we clean dishes after dinner.
"Well, basically, we have to make a portfolio for photography class. We need to select a theme and shoot pictures showcasing that theme" you say, as you dried the final plate.
"That sounds so much fun and creative!"
"It is actually! till you finalize the theme cause that's the main brainers" you say as you place the dishes back to the shelves and lando keeps the leftovers in fridge.
"And that's what i'm here for! Let me help you with the picture and theme and stuff" Lando says, being very supportive and super excited like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Bubba, i appreciate you and your help but you'll be busy with race weekends, PR promos and Quadrant stuff. Do you really wanna squish mine on top of this busy business??" you ask, being concerned about him.
He walks over to you, grabbing your face in his and leans in.
"Let me be a part of your project. Think of me as your project buddy who also happens to be your boyfriend" Lando says, making puppy eyes which makes harder to say no to him.
"Alrighty love. You're in!"
"Wooohoooo!!! Let's goooo babyyyy!!" He does his small victory dance as he sung to HSM: we're all in this together
You laughed silently as you walked into your work room and picked up a camera. Lando eventually followed you and found you holding the camera.
"Wait- we are already starting with the work??"
"We haven't even chosen a theme, you dum dums" you say, ruffling his head which messes the small curls a bit.
"Ohh yeah. I'd suggest you to do some trial run shots, like you know, play around capturing day to day events. Maybe something will spark and voila, you'll have a theme ready!" Lando says, as he fixed his hair while looking in the mirror.
"That's actually a great idea bubs!!! I'm gonna do that now. You really do love this subject of mine, don't you??" You ask, as you really loved his input he just gave and you're quite impressed with it.
His level of creativity is something you've always loved and appreciated his talents. And isn't it just lovely to see people talk about their passions!
And this just made you think it's time to finally give him one of your passions.
"This camera is yours from today. I've been wanting to give you this as I've seen you've been very much interested in photography and something you can take along with you and remind you of me" you say, whispering at the end as you felt your cheeks heat up due to the cliché that you just happen to say which isn't a very you thing to do.
Lando stood there with the camera in his hands, in complete awe at the gesture of yours.
"Y/N! you have no idea how much this means to me!! This isn't just any camera, this is one you truly used for your good works" He says, pulling you closer to his. He makes you look up to him, leaning in close as he kisses you softly yet lovingly. Your hands make their way behind his neck, pulling him close to you.
"I love you, so much y/n/n" Lando says, almost as a whisper as he rests his nose with yours.
"and i love you, much more lan" you whisper back with a smile as you do the eskimos kiss.
. . . .
Instagram
lando.jpg
liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, y/n.clicks and 3,566,962 others
landonorris: your fellow neighborhood cameraman📸
the best gift from the best <;33 y/n.clicks
view 41,06,765 comments
username1: wait Y/N gave her VERY OWN CAMERA TO LANDO!?!?
y/n.clicks: not bad for a beginner! have fun bubby🫶🏼
lando.jpg: learnt from the best ;)) will do!❤️
username2: he learnt with her?! talk about couple goals💗💖💞
charlesleclerc_: well i guess we'll say goodbye to this camera eventually. have you thought this through y/n.clicks 🤔🤔
y/n.clicks: i had a really good run with it soo if it breaks its alright, I'll get a new one 😙
lando.jpg: you two know that i can read your comments right?? hah RUDE😡
username3: i cant- 🤣🤣🤣🤣
username4: we're gonna be seeing what lando wants people to see. I LOVE IT!!!
y/n.clicks
liked by charlesleclerc_, maxfewtrell, landonorris and 1,609,992 others
y/n_l/n: handing over ceremony📷
lando 🤝 lando.jpg
tagged: landonorris
view 105,020 comments
lanndonorris: key moment of my life and career❤️
y/n.clicks: landonorris bubbaaa🥺💗
username1: i want what they have😭😭💛
carlossainz55: wow, he is growing up🥹🥹
y/n.clicks: ikr!!!🤧🤧
landonorris: you two ughhhhh🙄🙄
username2: this is sooo adorable ahhh!!
username3: thanks to y/n now we're gonna embark the cameraman lando era!
y/n.clicks: this is just the beginning of the era!!
lando.jpg
liked by ciscanorris, y/n.clicks and 2,954,755 others
landonorris: day at the bay with my bae
tagged: y/n.clicks
view 957,542 comments
username1: oh my. oH mY! OhOh MymY!!😍🤩
y/n.clicks: caption might be chessy af but the pictures, mamma mia🥵😍
liked by lando.jpg
maxfewtrell: now i get it why you ditched for golfing, you simp!
y/n.clicks: wait what!?! lando did that??
lando.jpg: 😳😳😳😳 busted?
ciscanorris: lando ditching golf?? he's soo into his cameraman era!!!🫡💗
username3: everyone say thank you y/n for getting lando a camera
username4: seriously! THANK YOU QUEEN Y/N
lando.jpg: FACTS!! thank you y/n.clicks 🫂🫶🏼
liked by y/n.clicks
y/n.clicks
liked by ciscanorris, pierregasly, olivernorris and 10,954,755 others
y/n_l/n: my favourite kind of cheese🧀 landonorris
tagged: lando.jpg
view 45,998,972 comments
username1: the caption🥹😭💖💞💗✨️
username2: them>>>>>>
riabish: LOVE IS IN THE AIR🫶🏼✨️
danielricciardo: you guys are so disgustingly adorable🫡💖
landonorris: now who's the chessier one??😏😏
y/n.clicks: landonorris still YOU🫣
landonorris: 😂😂😂
. . . .
also I'm thinking for a part 2 for this, lemme know if you're interested too :))
check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works
part 2 is out now!! check it out :))
#lando norris#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#ln4#formula one#f1 instagram au#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#f1blr#f1 fanfic
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What are your favorite tropes or plot points in Jason fics and why do you like them???
That’s really hard for me to narrow down. I will read just about anything gen that’s Jason-centric. Usually what makes or breaks a fic for me is the quality of the writing and characterization, rather than specific plot points or tropes. That said, some things do stand out…
Competent Jason, my beloved, how I adore you. He’s makes killer (ba-dum-tss 🥁) plans, he can adapt on the fly, and he’s got the range and depth to go up against anyone.
That’s my boy, any story that celebrates this is golden in my book. (Images from Event Leviathan #3)
I like Bruce and Jason origin stories, or stories that deal with them being father/son and Batman/Robin, because these boys love each other so much and, honestly, I just want them to be happy together.
I like fix-its or what-ifs that center around the Lost Days/UtRH timelines, because Jason’s story is a goddamn tragedy and I like thinking about all the ways it could have gone better/differently.
I like stories that feature late UtRH or Outlaws era Jason where he goes through real growth and development, because dc refuses to give us any meaningful character evolution without ripping it away or undermining it, and I have to feed my soul somehow. Bonus points if Jason gets to be badass with his guns or sword (or both 🤤).
I’m always up for a story that deals with batarang incident, although preferably not Dick-finds-out-and-runs-off-to-yell-at-Bruce, been there read that. Also, time travel or alt universes where Red Hood is there for Jaybin, because of all the lovely angst and hurt/comfort (and when it comes down to it, time and time again, Jason can really only depend on himself—thanks dc 🖕).
Finally, I’m weirdly lowkey obsessed with Selkie!Jason. There’s just something about baby Jay as a baby seal that melts my heart. Plus I think the vulnerability of the Selkie coat mythology is a really good fit for Jason’s character, which is so often held hostage to the narrative or other characters.
I could go on, but that’s probably enough for now. Thanks for the ask, anon! 💙
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...So, Chaos is like my comfort character rn, and him getting mad at us... again... genuinely makes me want to cry, I can't handle getting yelled at... Like at all, and right now I'm literally shaking, if like anyone yells at me in anyway, my brain immediately says that it's my fault and I mad them mad, and to get away from them... Ha ha ha..... I think I have a problem.... But, when I get like this, I hide from the person that yelled at me, for like hours, sometimes I disassociate from the person to the point I stop responding... Completely... And then I avoid them, fearing I'll get yelled at again, and make them mad again. I won't even ask for help, I'll stay quiet and do as I'm told, without a single thought running through my head, like completely empty.
I was wondering if you could write um, some headcanons on Mare, Chaos, and the trio getting angry and yelling at us and then we just start disassociating and then when they stop yelling, we just disappear for hours only to reappear and not say a single word, but avoid them because we feel like we upset them and fear that if we get close to them they'll get angry again. And we won't even ask for things, we just hide and won't come out until our mind feels it's safe. And if they try to talk to us, at all, our mind immediately feels its no longer safe, and then we disassociate again.
You're so real for this.. I literally can't handle arguments- I don't like conflicts at all.
MASTERLIST
THE BOYS X THE READER DISAPPEARING AFTER AN ARGUMENT
NIGHTMARE:
Of course he snapped. How could he not? You keep on making excuses upon excuses, just so you can get out of doing certain chores. Nightmare just can't keep it together anymore... he's seriously too tired for this.
He was surprised when you ran up to your room, and didn't show up the whole day.
He honestly started to get a lil concerned. But his pride didn't let him check up on you
It was a shock to him when you finally came out of your room.
But even through all this... he's still the king of negativity. Of course he's gonna enjoy your negative feelings.
Honestly- won't end well. He doesn't know how to comfort someone, and he'd probably make it worse than it is actually- so.... Not the best choice 😭
CHAOS:
He didn't want to yell... He didn't mean to yell and let his emotions out... But you just suddenly started mentioning his mom...again. He truly doesn't want to think about it- he doesn't want to hear about it. Then something in him just- snapped.
You wouldn't even make it up to your room, before he grabs your hand, and looks at you with tears in his eye.
The only thing that he didn't want to happen- happened. He yelled at you.
You two immediately resolved it!
Everything went back to normal- and now you know not to mention that topic again..
Honestly, one of the best choices here lmao.
ACE:
He tries to stay away from creating conflicts...he can't stand them. He doesn't search for them- and he sure as hell doesn't want them. But hearing you spitting "facts" about his favorite tv show just made him angry..
He feels horrible after he sees you run up the stairs, a total mess.
He also- much like Chaos- won't let it sit. He'll try to immediately solve your argument!
He'd apologize really passionately! Just snuggling up to you, telling you how much he appreciates you..
BLADE:
Blade couldn't keep his cool when you fiddled with his collection of knives. He just COULDN'T. And being the idiot he is, he raised his voice....which he quickly realized was a mistake.
He was confused when you started avoiding him-
This dumbass is such a dum dum that he lets this go on for a whole week 💀
He just doesn't know what to say/do😭🙏🏻
He'd crack though, after he starts missing you.
Yeah...you got yourself a begging mess of Blade lmao
TED:
He doesn't yell at you
#undertale#undertale fandom#sans undertale#undertale au#utmv#utmv au#chaos sans#chaos sans x reader#nightmare sans#nightmare sans x reader#dust sans#dust sans x reader#killer sans#killer sans x reader#horror sans#horror sans x reader
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18, 19, and 27 for the writing ask meme? :3
Gb! Hello! :3
18: The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?
Ok. Ok. Rise Donnie. I once used his face on a punching bag for a week straight because I had one scene where he was suppose to kiss reader, and he wouldn't do it! I think it's one of those "write so you find the character/don't write until you know the character" situations, but Rise Donnie is especially difficult for me because, canon wise, he's like. a really smart little goober who wears his heart on his sleeve and just pretends he's really aloof. But the way fandom sometimes handles him is mean, distant, and for some reason hella suave. And so i thought "well I'll just have reader think he's b first then turns out oh no he's A" but i got hit with the whammy of, Rise Donnie shows affection differently than I do or how I usually write. SO I struggled with showing that he's *actually* interested in someone.... until Tychou told me "look at how he treats April. That's your guide for how he'd treat someone he actually likes thats not his brothers" and it. just. clicked.
19: What's one pairing you want to explore next year?
........... blurple. (don't look at me)
27: What do you listen to while writing?
Oh That's usually my current writing playlist. Or, if I haven't had caffeine yet, I have a playlist thats basically just Skyrim Music. Or.... well if I'm in a certain mood, I've probably got a playlist for it. Maybe I should stick a few "finished" ones on my profile for people to take a gander at, idk *shrugs*
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tonight, i toy started talking to @kaarkon aafter a task he left toy in asks that toy still has to complete
after forgetting to say please, toy had to slap her face 10x on each side
toy has never slapped its own face before...and toy didn't have to. toy chose to, which made it all the worse.
after apologizing for being dum nd forgetting its manners, Sir told toy to slap itself another 20 times for being stupid
then, Sir told toy to strip naked nd suck on its fingers without swallowing. this was to force more drooling. toy straddled its pillow and humped like this, drooling with a bright burning face
with toy's other hand, Sir instructed toy to spank itself 10 times before swapping hands. toy was supposed to edge this way. back and forth drooling on itself with a burning face adn a reddening ass
toy thanked Sir for the edge, despite the humiliation toy underwent to reach the edge. toy is grateful for all the edges it receives
Sir told toy to hump a boot like a desperate whore. toy has never humped a boot before either..., and felt its dignity leaking out of its slick cunt with every passing minute
"than k u Sir for allowing me to edge on a boot Sir" was the least of the humiliating sentences toy wrote tonight.
when that was complete, Sir demanded toy lick the boot clean. toy has never licked a shoe either...big night for toy trying new things.
then, toy had to write "brain dead bimbo" across its tits and "worthless cum rag" on its lower belly. this made toy feel very very inferior (which is exactly what toy is). Sir told toy to stand by the window with its ass facing out. to bend over, keep drooling, and edge again, with one finger on each hole. truthfully, toy has a film on its windows, so it wasn't super worried about the neighbors seeing in...but toy did its best to imagine they were clear
"want my useless holes filled" turned quickly into "want my useless holes to be of service, Sir. It's not my place to want things anymore"
to which Sir confirmed, "It isn't. You just exist to be used."
nd that thout was actually what toy got off on. it wasn't th epressure applied to its uselsss cunt, or the finger circling its ass. it was the humiliation that this is all toy is good for. entertainment for Men.
that's what got toy to the edge.
nd when toy was done edging a third humiliating time, Sir instructed toy to write this post. to put toy's panties in its mouth, to clamp its nipples and stuff itself while toy writes it.
Sir also said toy should change its notification rule to include cunt spanks. From here on out, all reblogs = cunt spank. All other notes = nipples pinched. Sir said this woudl rightfully "encourage people to reblog more so toy reaches more perverts"
which is exactly what toy wants
💕
#it speaks#attention wh0r3#brainless#mind corruption#mindless#needy wh0re#desperate wh0re#edging and denial#edging my mind away#edging kink#humiliation kink#corruption kink
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closing time
summary → another night closing the shop at top brews
warnings → swearing, probably some typos in there, coffee shop au, everyone is like 28ish in this
length → 1.1K (a short lil guy)
pairing → robert "bob" floyd x fem reader
a/n → before you ask, yes, i did change the name of the coffee shop from "daily brews" to "top brews." nobody question me, i like this name better moving forward in this universe. i've had a hard time writing recently but i'm excited to dig down and get back into this ever expanding coffee shop au. i love, adore, and appreciate feedback, but as always, be nice or be gone. if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist let me know.
this takes place in the same universe as my other fic "girl in a coffee shop". i recommend reading that first, but it isn't necessary to understand this one.
▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️
Closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world. You heard the opening lyrics begin to fill the space as you took notice of the time - 5:57. It was a nightly tradition at Top Brews for Closing Time to carry over the speakers, acting as a little nudge to the last few stragglers.
As you slowly packed up your laptop case, you got a kick out of watching Rooster plead with old Ms. Johnson in a losing battle to get her out the door. Finally, he got her to agree to leave, but not without promising that they’d chat about her cats the following day. Offering his elbow, he helped her up and escorted her to the door - waving her off with a bright smile before locking the door.
When he turned back around his eyes found yours, “Well, well, well,” he began, clicking his tongue at you, “What do we have here? Don’t you know what time it is?”
Just as you were about to respond, Bob came walking out of the backroom lugging a bin of ice in each hand, “Leave her alone, Rooster.”
“Oh, c’mon, man! Bean knows I’m just messing around,” Rooster gestured to you, “Tell him!”
Your heart lit up at the nickname. The last six months had been a whirlwind and you finally felt like you had earned your place in the squad when you got your own silly name to match the rest of them. It was Bob who initially called you Bean, often reminiscing on the day you two finally owned up to your growing feelings and the trail of coffee beans that lead you there. It wasn’t long before the rest of the team adopted the name and you had the growing suspicion that Fanboy had forgotten your legal name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
With a laugh, you stood up and linked your arm through Rooster’s, “No need to worry this time Robby, Tweedle Dum here was only joking.” This time Bob did let out a laugh, shaking his head and beginning to dump the ice into the cooler, “Alright, alright, let’s close this son of a bitch down so we can go home.”
A satisfied grin now sat on your face, only growing wider when you saw the deep frown etching it’s way onto Rooster’s. You unlinked your arms and slapped him on the shoulder, “Oof, better luck next time! I’ll go get the mop while you get started on sweeping - I’ll help you with the lobby since I’m feeling extra nice tonight.”
As you were walking towards the backroom, you could hear Rooster grumbling, “Oh, sure, I see how it is. I can’t bully Bean but Bean can bully me?” You were tempted to turn around and continue poking the bear, but you thought better of it - the more time you wasted now, the less time you’d have later with Bob. So, you just giggled to yourself and kept on walking.
You were watching the water filling the mop bin when suddenly you were hit with all the forgotten things you still had to get done tonight. The smile that was on your face dropped off with the realization that you probably wouldn’t have time to stop by Bob’s house as you had originally planned - your to-do list filling up just as fast as the mop bin. You gripped the mop handle a little tighter with a scowl on your face.
Coming back from filling up the cooler, Bob quietly set the ice bins on top of the machine and took in your tense disposition for a moment before softly asking, “What did that mop ever do to you?” Your eyes met his, the stress slipping from your frame and your vice grip easing up. With a straight face and a blunt tone, you quipped back, “It killed my father.”
The sound of Bob laughing filled the kitchen as he set the mop aside and wrapped you in his arms, letting his chin rest on your head, “God, I love you, Bean.” It was silent between you two for a moment before he continued, “Now do you want to tell me what’s really going on? I helped your dad fix his truck this morning so I’m pretty sure this mop is innocent,” he prodded.
His heart was thrumming against your ear, reminding you that you wouldn’t be falling asleep on his chest to the same sound later that evening. Your heart sank lower as you answered quietly, “I forgot I have a bunch of laundry and other chores I need to do tonight,” with a sigh you continued, “I think I’m going to have to raincheck coming over tonight.”
Bob was silent again, his eyes fixed on the handwashing signage behind your head.
“Move in with me.”
His head didn’t move from it’s spot on yours - the nonchalance of it all catching you off guard.
You pulled back to look him in the eyes, desperate to know if he was being serious or not, “What?”
“Move in with me. Move in with me so that we don’t have to waste anymore nights doing laundry alone when we could’ve been doing it together,” he said, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears and running his thumbs along your cheekbones.
“Okay,” you whispered. “Yeah?” he asked, his own smile growing rapidly.
“I’d love to, if you’re absolutely sure, I’d love to,” you responded, feeling more sure about the decision with every passing second.
“I’m absolutely, 100%, sure,” he continued, “In this life, I would really like doing laundry and taxes with you.” You felt butterflies swarm as you responded through a fuzzybrain, “You need to stop watching Everything Everywhere All at Once so much.“
“Not a chance,” he said, before closing the gap between you and letting his lips melt into yours.
“Bean are you going to help me with the lobby or wha- woah there! Talk about something the health inspector wouldn’t appreciate,” Rooster said as he dramatically threw his hands over his eyes and walked backwards out of the kitchen.
“I guess we better get back out there, huh?” Bob said.
“I guess we better, Mr. Boss Man,” you winked at him, “We’ll talk more about the details later - but I’m really looking forward to doing laundry and taxes with you too.” Without another word, you grabbed the mop bucket and began wheeling it out of the kitchen.
As Bob began counting down the till he couldn’t help but watch as you used the mop handle as a microphone to serenade Rooster - he didn’t even care when he lost his count. Starting from the pennies yet again, he sang under his breath, “I know who I want to take me home.”
▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️
tags:
@wkndwlff @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @starlightstories @aviatorobsessed @accioprocrastination @shanimallina87 @waklman @roosterbruiser @mayhemmanaged @genius2050 @dempy @dakotakazansky @purplevortexx
#robert floyd fic#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd#robert bob floyd fluff#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#dagger squad#natasha phoenix trace#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#mickey fanboy garcia#rueben payback fitch
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a real stand up guy ba dum tss
summary: you get stood up by an internet man. douxie, your waiter and secret admirer, remedies that jackass’s mistake.
warnings: uh. swearing, alcohol, i’m too lazy to proof, the yooj. oh and doux doesn’t know how to handle this crush without getting slightly into stalker territory sorry. its a red flag but i think its cute. you may not think its cute.
a/n: tumblr was glitching while i tried to post this so idk how many paragraphs i accidentally erased. i mean i tried my best to make that number 0. but anyways if something is off let me know. the challenge for this one is that im not allowed to use italics. which you should know was very hard for me agshjfkgjdjh
taglist: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses
okay quick psa i know it’s been years so if you want off the taglist just hmu. also if you were on the taglist and got taken off thats bc tumblr says you don’t exist anymore
uh this was a request. i’m not doing requests tho dont think that. looking back yeah that ask if from march 2022 and this doesn’t even match up to what you asked 😂 im so sorry @rose-writes-shit
you took a peek at your watch. 7:34 o’ clock. letting your head fall into the open palm of your propped up hand, you sighed.
coffee meets bagel boy was supposed to have met you at 7:00.
of fucking course. you let your plucky pink-haired coworker convince you to download a fucking dating app and make a profile, just for the only guy who had actually been interested enough in you to ask you on a real date to stand you up. makes sense.
it’s not like you’ve ever had luck with these kind of things. it’s not like you’ve ever had luck period. your kind might be the black cat of humans.
you’ve spent way too long eating the free bread at a mr. benoit’s of all places. it was the “classiest” establishment in the certain suburban hellscape of california you inhabited, albeit. you took in the scenery for the millionth time that night with a renewed sense of disgust. at least now you had a legitimate reason to hate this place.
your waiter slinked over, and you could tell he felt bad for you with the awkward shuffling gait to the pity grimace on his face.
“so, uh, perhaps more bread?”
you rolled your face towards him, arbitrarily throwing animosity his way with your dead eyes, just because he was there. but soon your compulsive desire to be the funniest pathetic wretch in the room won out.
“i’m considering burning this whole place down right now, actually,” you joked.
he grit his teeth, sucking in a breath, “could i perhaps convince you to do that on a night i’m not closing, instead? tomorrow is my least favorite coworker’s turn, for your consideration,”
“hmm,” you pretended to think, “i’ll do that then, it’s only kind,”
“thank you for your generosity,” he grinned, “now, are you still waiting for someone or?”
-
douxie had been watching you for over half an hour now. not creepily. he swears. he just got a little excited when he saw you come into the restaurant is all.
anddd maybe he might have badgered the host into giving you one of his tables. but again, he was just excited. he’s been looking for an excuse to talk to you for the past three months, after all. forgive him for jumping on the opportunity.
he maybe fancied you. just a wee bit. perhaps a rather large bit. or at least, the version of you he’s cooked up in his head from the way he sees you interact with people at house parties and the things he’s heard from zoe.
but he’s sure he’ll love you. as soon as he gets to know who you actually are. which, hopefully, is about to be sooner rather than later.
he did not anticipate this situation, however. whatever benevolent deity blessed him on this night decided to throw a jar of pickled herring in with the otherwise yummy pastry filled gift basket they left for him.
not long after you arrived at 6:56 pm, not that he marked the time you came in or anything he just happened to glance at the clock around that time, he watched you, how they say, deflate. your demeanor shifted from antsy to sad to downright annoyed.
you were dressed nicely. not fancy, not pretending like this wasn’t a benoit’s. but nice. orderly. like you wanted to make a good impression on whoever it was you were expecting to meet. so either a date, or mayhaps a job interview.
not that you didn’t look nice or orderly on other days. you just weren’t in your hex tech uniform shirt. or in the incredibly casual clothes you wore when he saw you around. you were just. clearly cleaned-up, is all.
whoever it was, it was obvious that they were not coming. doux applauded you for being patient enough to wait this long, but again, they obviously weren’t coming. which, if it was a date, was good for him, but bad for you. very bad for you.
and honestly who does this person think they are? letting you down like this? horrible. disgraceful. this person was a grade A jerk-off. they have to be dead from the neck up to leave you waiting here like this, publicly embarrassing you as you sat at a table set for two all alone at one of the busiest restaurants in town. shame on them.
he was glad you seemed to be in the joking mood, however. and about arson, too. oh, he’s always had a soft spot for arsonists.
he hoped you’ll forgive him for having to do his job. if it was up to him, he’d give you all the bread in the pantry just so you wouldn’t leave. but alas, he had to deal the killing blow.
“now, are you still waiting for someone, or?”
your eyes drifted downward to the empty wineglass in your hand as you swirled it sarcastically as if it were still full.
you sighed, “yeah, no, it’s clear he doesn’t plan on showing,” you looked back up at him ruefully, “i’ll order now. i shouldn’t have waited this long for an internet man, anyway, huh? could’ve made it less pathetic.”
“i don’t think there’s a way to make these things any ‘more’ or ‘less’ pathetic,” he began taking out his notepad, ready to write, “because i wouldn’t call it pathetic at all. getting stood up is a thing that’s done to you, not because of who you are, but because of who someone else chooses to be… unless you stole this guy’s car or something. then it’s your fault.”
you laughed. genuinely.
“no, no, it’s a first date. i haven’t known this guy long enough to steal his car yet. but thanks… that’s. a better outlook than mine. kinder,” you apologized, “… uh, can i have like, the cheapest bottle of white wine you’ve got back there? the whole thing this time.”
“i take it back. that definitely made it pathetic.”
while you shared a laugh, douxie mentally congratulated himself. you had just given him the information that a) you were single and b) you were into men. a good day to be a charming single man, then. he had a chance.
“so are you ordering any real food as well? or did you plan on just having wine and bread for dinner? have to say, i don’t think that’s wise, love.”
“well i suppose i gotta, since, i’ve, uh, eaten three baskets of complimentary bread,” you stumbled over your words for a second there, “and i’m sure it’d make the manager mad if it didn’t, right?”
“right you are. he’s uh,” douxie lowered his voice, “he’salreadybeenonmydickaboutyou so yeah, you gotta. plus i’m just— you should eat something, yeah.”
you awkwardly turned your attention to the menu as you did that thing where you hold it and pretend to look over the menu as you order like you forgot or something, “the duck confit sounds good for tonight, i think,”
douxie snorted.
“no, no, that wasn’t a joke,” you shook your head, smiling fondly, “i actually just like duck, i promise. no sarcasm. i do understand the irony though. i get it.”
he didn’t completely believe you, “well then, one order of duck confit, coming right up. be back shortly, love.”
doux grabbed the breadbasket on his way out.
when he glanced back to throw you a short and unnoticeable but longing stare, as he paused in the kitchen doorway, you were fidgeting with the flowers on the table. he should get that order in now.
-
when your waiter came back with food, he placed two plates down on the table. you looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head as he took the other seat as well.
“what are you—“
“i called in a favor with the owner. i’m still working but, i’ve got a bit of free time now. if you don’t mind me joining you,”
you shook your head in astonishment.
“not at all,” you smiled, still absolutely flabbergasted that this man would do something like this for you, “you’re douxie, right? zoe’s mentioned you a lot.”
“oH—,” he coughed, “oh, uh, she has?“
“yeah,”
he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “only good things, i pray?”
“oh, sure. sure. good things,” you took a demure little sip of your glass to torture him with the pause implying the contrary.
he swallowed audibly. nervous, then. what dirt did zoe have on him. you watched as he awkwardly shoved up the sleeves of his shirt, perhaps feeling a bit warm now. it was cute.
you’d be sure to ask zoe all about him later. how could you not. this was the most interesting thing to happen all year. and it’s december.
you racked your brain for what you knew of this guy for conversation topics.
“you’re in zoe’s band, right? the lead guitarist.”
his face lit up at the mention of it, “oh, yes. you’ve seen us?”
“once or twice, i believe.”
it wasn’t really your thing, live music. you mostly hung around the back of the bar when you got dragged to shows. you liked loud, sometimes. just not often. it really depended on how your brain was feeling that day.
“well, you’ve gotta come to the next gig, then, at least. i’m sure zoe’s already invited you?” you nodded. “the venue’s holding a wee little music festival, it’s going to be nuclear,”
“ah, that’s fun,” you smiled. that sounded like hell but now that two very enthusiastic wizards have invited you, you don’t have the heart to weasel your way out of it. you’ll bring the “XTREME” ear plugs.
“but yeah, the bands great. i love that i get to play with my mates now. a team that works as well together as we do is rare, so i really appreciate them.”
“speaking of,”
doux hummed inquisitively.
“what’s going on with zoe and that new girly y’all’ve got on the drums?”
“oh,” he paused to take a sip, narrowing his eyes mischievously, “they’re boning.”
you clasped your hands together excitedly, “thank you! you’ve just won me a betting pool.”
he almost had to spit the wine back into his glass,“hhhh. how many?”
“oh, just the entirety of the hex tech arcadia staff.”
“i’m not sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”
“which is why you won’t tell her, mr. casperan,” you placed your hand over his with a cheshire cat grin.
well, he couldn’t argue with that.
dinner progressed. alas, you can’t say you lingered as long as you wanted to on conversation. you were kinda rushing things because you felt a little guilty doux was getting someone to cover for him while you had your little date. was this a date. it had to be. as mentioned, he’s going out of his way for this, and you can’t imagine he’d go through all this trouble because he wasn’t interested in you. but then again, you couldn’t believe he was interested in you either.
“do you like cryptozoology?” douxie tried his best to ask nonchalantly while he scratched the bridge of his nose to look a little less interested. he was feeling a bit energized since talking about the band. you had been paying attention to him like he’d been paying attention to you, if only in passing.
“a tad more than the average californian wizard, why?”
“well, later this weekend, i’ve got a job exterminating a goblin infestation in the next town over,”
“snelling?”
“yeah, snelling. the guy i was partnering with told me he was backing out this morning, so now i’ll be going it alone. and im sure you know how fighting goblins alone usually goes.”
“makes it easier for them to gang up on you, yes.”
“see, that’s why i’m asking if you’d be interesting in taking his place?”
“well, i’ve got the weekend off and nothing to do,” he knew that, he got the hex tech schedule from zoe every week(to know how to schedule band practice. and, if he also took a peak at your schedule, it was purely accidental. yeah.), “so, i don’t see why not.”
doux grinned, both relieved he wouldn’t be fighting goblins alone, and feeling clever that he found an excuse to spend more time with you, “perfect, i’ll text you the details? but, oh, i don’t have your number do i?”
you were about to ask why he couldn’t just tell you in person right now, but he said that soo hammy. it took .01 seconds to understand what he was doing. you snorted.
“okay, okay, here,” you held out your hand and he gladly placed his unlocked phone in your hand. you made the contact and sent yourself a text of the first emoji he had in his recents, which happened to be🫀. ah, a goth romantic. you gave him back his phone.
“perfect. thank you, love.” he tucked the phone into his chest dramatically before placing in back into his pocket.
you rolled your eyes fondly, “you know, goblin smashing isn’t exactly my idea of the perfect second date, you might have to turn up the charm.”
“oh, i’m sure i’ll make it worth your while,” he let his head fall into his palm propped up on the table, gaze going soft, “so was this a perfect first date, then?”
you laughed, “hardly. all things considered. but—“
“but?”
“but i’m glad it happened this way. i’ve had a good time, mr. casperan.”
he grinned in agreement, “me too.”
you put your hand on top of the one he left resting on the table, and he took the opportunity to take that hand and gently lay a kiss to the top of your knuckles. he lingered for a moment, eyes shut tight to take in the tenderness of the moment.
alas, he has to go back to work now.
doux pulled out your chair and helped you to your feet. you thanked him as he started stacking the dishes.
“should i—?”
“no, god no,” he chuffed, “i’m the waiter, remember? i work here.”
“oh yeah.”
that reminded you. you shuffled for your wallet, but he stopped you.
“i’m paying for dinner, love. go enjoy the rest of your evening, i’ll text you after i close.”
“you sure?” it didn’t really sit right with you, considering he probably took a pay cut by not working the whole time you were on this little “date.”
“well,” he paused, and placed the dishes back onto the table for time being, “you could leave me a tip, if you know what i mean. just a teeny thing—“
“c’mere,” you snickered as you pulled him down by the lapels to kiss him.
chaste, just a peck. but perfect and sweet all the same.
when you pulled back, you watched as douxie held his eyes closed for just a moment longer than he need to before letting that blinding all encompassing smile bloom across his face.
“well then, a very goodnight to you, y/n l/n.”
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I haven't stopped listening to Mr Sandman since the end of the serie, can you do a one shot where F!Reader is quietly singing(unconsciously) the song and Morpheus asks him what is that? please
Fandom: The Sandman
A/N: Not really a oneshot because the scenario isn't detailed enough for one, but here's little something I wrote from your prompt.
Also a note that this is the last Morpheus request I have in my inbox rn, but you're welcome to send more! It's kinda weird how I don't crush on him (yet?) but I've really enjoyed writing for him for some reason as I build my queue and see the love they get (which encourages me to write more) so more requests for him are welcome 😊 Reminder that you may also use my prompt lists if you don't have ideas of your own!
Word count: 627
Visiting Morpheus' palace every night as your physical self was comfortably wrapped up in your bed was something you didn't think would happen. You were surprised that it had happened so often, but Morpheus had told you that he liked having company and since you had shown him so much kindness, he wanted to offer you company too.
In the Waking World, you were quite lonely. There were some people you saw on a regular basis—your work colleagues, neighbors, acquaintances—but they all had their own lives outside of yours. The few friends you made only ever called or met when there was an occasion, which made you feel unappreciated and like you were contacted only if someone was bored, not because people actually wanted to talk to you.
You had told this to Morpheus when you were plotting freeing him from his glass prison, knowing how he was treated in there and the moment you had learned he was there purely because Roderick Burgess was greedy for power, and not because he had done something horrible, you started laying out a plan of freeing him. He didn't speak, and seemed to doubt your honesty until you actually filled your promise, but now he did trust you. He enjoyed you sitting there with him as he worked. Sometimes you read, sometimes you doodled something or then you spoke with him if he wasn't too busy.
Tonight, you seemed to be deep in thought as you doodled into a parchment of paper, smiling softly at each stroke. Morpheus was deep in his own work, but he was distracted as he heard you hum a tune.
"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen, give him the word that I'm not a rover, then tell him that his lonesome nights are over, dum dum dum..."
He frowned as he lifted his gaze at you, and you noticed it and realised the next moment what you had just said, and you felt heat creeping up to your face.
"What is that?"
You laughed nervously, placing your hands over your cheeks and trying to hide yourself from him momentarily. "Um... nothing." You shrugged, turning your eyes back at your doodle. "Just... something silly I've been listening lately, it's quite an earworm."
Morpheus raised his eyebrows and then an amused smile spread on his lips. "A song about me?"
You smiled at him bashfully, fiddling with the quill in your hands. "It's a really old song and when I started visiting you here, I just... I don't know, I ended up listening to it in Spotify quite often. It brings me comfort when I'm not here."
His eyebrows rose slightly, before he smirked at you smugly. "I am flattered to be remembered so fondly by you when you are awake." He chuckled at your embarrassed expression, before getting back to his work.
You bit your lip, your face still feeling hot and your heart thumping, but managed to continue your doodle anyway.
And once you relaxed, you had started to hum the tune again without noticing, but this time Morpheus didn't react to it apart from a small smile on his lips. He wouldn't say it aloud, but he was pleased that you enjoyed something that reminded you of him, even if it was only a song.
He had offered you kindness in return to you freeing him, and it felt good knowing you were enjoying your nights with him, even if your nights went by just sitting together, barely speaking.
Maybe one day he'd appear in the Waking World and spend time with you in your world for a change, surprise you by taking you out on dinner, show you how much he appreciated you too...
---
The Sandman taglist: @jesllianaquilesrolon @stygianoir // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!
#morpheus x reader#morpheus#dream of the endless x reader#dream of the endless#the sandman#the sandman x reader#morpheus fic#the sandman fic#morpheus x y/n#my works#female reader
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you are in the earth of me [04]
Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem! Reader
Content: no warnings apply (except Lockwood being a lil dum-dum but we love him for it)
Summary: Responsibility. Lucrative agent. Resource. It seems everyone is happy to fit your whole existence into one word; put you inside a cardboard box, slap a postage stamp on your forehead as though you’re some ghastly parcel to be shipped off when taking up too much space; being too inconvenient. Looks like even Lockwood and Co. is no different from the other agencies, a sobering revelation that is surprisingly disappointing.
Notes: [01] || [03] | [05]
Words: 4.6k
A/N: this is for @tangledinlove, my beloved, who without i'm not sure if i would be back to writing this as enthusiastically. or at all. your writing gives me a home to return to and tons of love. thank you for that.
after the cancellation of s2, i got really unhappy, especially with my writing/the story compared to the other gems on this platform, so if this at some point disappears or i stop uploading, i'm sorry in advance. until then, i keep going and creating for you guys a second home as best as i can. love you all ♥
04: there's a kind of calling
shoulder the sky (i can’t wait to show you how much)
open those eyes (i know you can be, just let the rain come)
there’s a kind (let the rain come down, darling)
(can’t you hear it howling?) of calling, calling
— The Amazing Devil: The Calling
He stands tall in the doorframe, like a praetorian from the elite Roman military force, spatula in one hand to strike, a saucepan lid, fogged from condensation, in his other hand to defend. Most importantly though, he is not wearing any pants.
Lockwood gives him a dejected look. “George. We talked about wearing no pants outside of your room.”
“I see you brought her back,” George replies, ignoring Lockwood. His small, dark eyes seem exceptionally sharp behind his black-rimmed glasses. “Why did you bring her back?”
Old retirees whose lawns you’ve trespassed on have greeted you more kindly. But as with any building you enter, the rule is not to hesitate at the threshold, so when Lockwood and Lucy walk inside, you follow right after them.
Portland Row at the edge of dawn was enticing like Sleeping Beauty. Now at evening it is something else entirely: a waft of warm, spicy smell engulfs you: tumeric, onions, safran. Roasted chicken, a lemony tang—the whole mix is mouth-watering and for a moment you get dizzy from hunger. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten; your stomach growls more horrifying than the rumbling of a Raw-bones at night.
“Look alive, George, this case is far from over!” Lockwood announces. He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it on the rack, shaking out his wet hair. Cold water is trickling down the back of his neck, dampening his collar. A sudden shower has surprised you on the way back, making the ride back in the cab even more uncomfortable in addition to sitting squeezed next to Lockwood and making sure your knees don’t touch. “And she’s kindly agreed to lend us a hand.”
George eyes you, from top to bottom. His nose twitches a little as though he’s smelling a wet dog, but then he gives a twitch that vaguely resembles a shrug before he ducks into the kitchen. “I’ll get another plate out.”
“Oh, I can get take out—” you start.
“Nonsense.” Lockwood waves in the general direction of the wooden floor, signalling you to leave your bags in the hallway. “George’s food is something you have to try. Zereshk Polo, isn’t it, George? This will also give us an opportunity to decide on what to do next, and share everything we know.”
“Where’s she staying, Lockwood?” Lucy asks. Her wet hair sticks to her forehead and cheeks, and she brushes it impatiently behind her ears. “Last time I checked, we don’t have any spare rooms.” She narrows her eyes at him in a certain way that suggests she doesn’t want you bunking in her room. Not that you mind. You’re not too keen on sleeping in the same room with someone else either.
“The library was fine,” you say, dropping your bags where Lockwood has shown you. “And it’s only for this night. I’ll try and find another place first thing tomorrow.”
Lockwood purses his lips. “I would rather you stay here until we find whoever is out there thinking that you have the key. You have become an essential resource for this case, one I’d rather not put in danger.”
There’s a profound silence, only disturbed by the sizzling in the kitchen and George’s quiet, off-tune humming.
Responsibility. Lucrative agent. Resource. It seems everyone is happy to fit your whole existence into one word; put you inside a cardboard box, slap a postage stamp on your forehead as though you’re some ghastly parcel to be shipped off when taking up too much space; being too inconvenient. Looks like even Lockwood and Co. is no different from the other agencies, a sobering revelation that is surprisingly disappointing.
A flash of bitterness passes over Lucy’s face, but it fades quickly. “Lockwood—” she begins, drawing herself up. Her voice seems dangerously sharp like the edges of broken glass, and standing between them, you’re surprised that your head is not immediately razed off by the laser sharp intensity of whatever weird staring contest Lucy and Lockwood are currently engaged in.
Lockwood’s response is his dark eyebrows drawn together in a puzzled frown. But before he can say something, you speak up, voice sweeter than saccharin, “Your resource would love to take a shower first before we start. Is that OK?”
That’s when Lockwood realises. All colour drains from his face, then comes back as two crimson spots high on his cheeks. “I—”
“Yes.” Lucy’s eyes are still on Lockwood, her voice oddly distant. “I’ll jump into the shower myself, but the boys’ bathroom is just upstairs.” When she brushes past Lockwood, she sends him a glare that is sharper than the rapier she pulls out of her holster and stuffs inside the umbrella rack. “And Lockwood will wait for his turn.”
Suits you just fine. You leave your kit in the hallway and take the bag with your clothes upstairs, past the masks and curios mounted on the wall, wooden-framed pictures and newsletter pages showing a younger Lockwood wearing a full-body fencing suit and grinning into the camera like the Cheshire Cat after winning a fencing tournament. It must be from the memorable day when Kipps got his ass handed to him, one of his less favourite subjects to dwell on from his past. Your chest twinges at the sight—Matthew would have attended too; he had been the best with a rapier out of you three, making it almost look as easy and graceful as dancing.
You draw your shoulders together and follow after Lucy, banishing the thoughts and echoes from the past before they can rise to an awful noise in your head. A shower, some food. A plan. Brick by brick you can rebuild yourself.
Lucy drops you off at the threshold of a small square bathroom, simply gesturing into the room with an awkward wave of her hand. It’s completely white-tiled with simple furniture and a few dried out plants at the windowsill. The blinds are drawn shut and with the sun setting the room is turning darker by the minute. A few dark heaps of clothing lie scattered on the ground, hiding a square vine-patterned rug.
“Thanks,” you say, fumbling along the wall in search for the light switch. Lucy hesitates a moment, and you think she might say something. But then she turns on her heels and stalks another floor up, already starting to peel out of her soaked-in, woolly sweater.
You turn to the bathroom, standing still for a moment just to test how wild your thoughts run, how loud that creature inside your head howls. What a mess you dragged yourself into—or got dragged into, more likely. You’ll have to see Kipps soon and tell him what happened, and look out for a new apartment. You stand there, unmoving, shivering like aspen leave in high wind. One thing at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day either.
Deposing your bag in a corner, you begin unpacking what you need. A cough from the door has your head whipping around. Lockwood is leaning against the doorframe. He seems to do that a lot, you think. Some guys are just meant to loom.
“Sorry we can’t give you proper accommodations. I’m sure you’re used to different things from the Rotwell dormitories.” His eyes glide over your head as though he’s taking in the bathroom for the first time. He’s playing with the ring on his right hand, twirling it around his thin finger. You force your eyes away from his slender piano-fingers and how hot they felt around your wrist this afternoon.
“Let’s be honest, all that Pomp and Circumstance means nothing.” You return pulling clothes out of your duffel bag. “They didn’t hesitate for a second to throw me out the moment I became an inconvenience.” The confession pries something open within you: an age-old chest of memories you’ve kept firmly locked and tucked away in the recess of your mind, now yielding in his presence. The same thing has happened at the first agency you worked for, shortly after Matthew’s death. Nobody wanted to deal with the broken girl, the grieving girl who wouldn’t leave her room, who was suspended from work and then released. Had it not been for Kipps and someone else, someone very important and influential, you probably would have kept wandering in that darkness forever.
Not wanting to see the pity on Lockwood’s face, you sort your things and move towards the shower, pushing the flowery curtains aside.
After a moment, Lockwood’s voice comes again from the door. “You might want to wait until Lucy’s done upstairs if you don’t want to use the shower George and I use,” he says, but it sounds a little wrong as if those aren’t the words he wants to say but doesn’t know how to get the right ones out.
Wondering what it is he can’t say, you reply without thinking, “It’s OK. I had a brother, I don’t mind sharing with boys.”
Lockwood is very still for a moment. His face has changed. “Had?”
Only then your brain registers what you’ve said. You keep your expression blank when you look at him. “Mind if I take one of your towels?”
Lockwood answers your look alike. Something passes between you in that moment, but you don’t have the words, or insight into him, to understand what it is. He slips past you and pushes a pile of towels off the toilet seat with the tip of his slippers. “Not those. They’re George’s.”
From a bottom drawer, he pulls out a fresh towel. “Here, I, ah … hope you don’t mind.” He hands it to you and immediately, you notice it smells like him—lavender soap and clean cotton. A little like … sunlight. Clean and warm. You quickly snatch it from his hands and turn your face away, afraid he can see what you think.
When there’s nothing left to say, he shuffles out of your way. “Well then, good luck.”
You snort. “With taking a shower?”
“Imagine slipping and breaking your neck on a shower tile. I wouldn’t want a Visitor like that in my house.”
“Fair point.”
He gives a little awkward smile.
You feel the corner of your mouth twitch.
Lockwood pulls the door shut behind him, and you wait until you hear him disappear downstairs before you peel out of your sweat-stinking top and sliced pants. The water is hot on your skin but a welcome change. During those ten minutes your head is blissfully empty and silent, granting you a moment of respite as you focus on how the hot drops pelt on your skin. After another ten minutes, you step out before they assume you managed to drown like a turkey.
You quickly scrub yourself dry and slip into some comfortable clothes. It’s a wonder what a little cleaning up and a set of fresh clothes can do to make you feel like a normal human again. Now, if Karim’s food tastes as good as it smells, you might sleep like a baby tonight.
The steam follows in wispy tendrils out onto the floor when you open the door. The sound of clattering dishes and voices draws you downstairs where you pause at the kitchen’s entrance, unsure if you should step in. It feels as though you’re about to intrude into their sacred space—their safe haven.
Before you can think of sneaking off and getting take-out, Lockwood spots you. He’s taken off his tie and opened the first buttons of his shirt. When he moves, you see the elegant curves of his collarbones, like the frail wings of a small bird. “Come on in,” he says. “You’ll love George’s cooking.”
You blink, dazed. Step in. The smell of exotic spices engulfs you. Your mouth waters at the sight of the colourful dishes—fresh tomato and onion salad, fluffy steaming rice, an assorted cutting board with nuts, olives, feta cheese and Gouda. It is a feast fit for royalty.
As they settle around the table, you take the seat at the other side of Lockwood. Someone’s already piled an enormous mountain of rice with a beautiful golden chicken leg on top on your plate. You prepare your stomach with some strong herbal tea and freshly backed garlic naan before you dive for the main course. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten a home-cooked meal, not to mention something this delicious.
“So, what did you guys find?” George asks with his mouth full. “I doubt she’d be here otherwise.”
You hardly care about his flippant attitude—not with the savoury, and slightly spicy rice dancing on your taste buts. So you just slide over the coin towards the table’s centre. Three heads lean forward. You keep chewing, blissfully relishing in the taste and texture.
“George, do you know what kind of coin that is?” Lucy asks, her lips curled around a straw as she drinks orange juice.
He picks it up, a piece of naan tucked between his teeth. In an instant, he is out of his chair and moves out of your sight. You hear a door to your right swing open, leading down to the cellar, you think, as you watch George disappear downstairs. The few minutes he’s gone you spent in polite silence, too engrossed in eating your way through the assorted finger food plates George has prepared. When he returns, he’s already inspecting the coin through a bronze magnifying glass.
“It’s not a coin, for starters,” George says. “I think it’s a … a badge? But the pins broke off, that’s why you mistook it for a coin.”
“And the symbol?” Lockwood leans closer to George, exhibiting more interest in the small object than his dinner plate. You’re already halfway done with yours. “Any idea what it could be?”
George chews on his bottom lip. “Hard to say. I mean, the symbols by themselves are pretty clear. The infinity symbol was first used mathematically in the 17th century, but it’s much, much older, dating back to Viking Age. In modern mysticism, it’s become identified with a variation of the ouroboros, that’s my closest guess. The cross is a lot more straightforward, but I doubt you want to listen to me going into Christianity in front of your salads.”
“You think you’ll have more luck finding something in the Archives?”
“The problem’s not the lack of books on symbology—it’s the opposite. It’ll take weeks to go through all and find what we might need. And for whatever reason there are even more in the restricted section; I know because Bobby Vernon doesn’t shut up about it whenever he thinks he has to be especially annoying.”
“I’m surprised he can reach the door handle.” Lockwood pauses, eyebrows furrowed. “And we’ve got no luck yet getting the access permit for our agency.”
Lucy leans over and helps herself to more rice. “Any specific reasons why?”
Lockwood scowls, and quickly glances your way. “It seems that we are too small an agency to have access to the restricted sections,” he explains, clearly unhappy.
Lucy presses her lips into a flat line. George keeps his eyes on the badge, his free hand draws the same symbol on the table cloth, his food forgotten for the moment.
“I could always ask Kipps to task Bobby to find out what this is,” you offer. “Kipps, remember him? The guy you were supposed to work with on this case.”
“It is easy to forget him, why with his little to no contribution to pretty much anything,” George replies.
Lockwood clears his throat. “Well, since technically the case is solved because we’ve contained the source, I don’t necessarily need him.” He pokes around his plate. “And since he’s paid his debt to me, I’d prefer not owing him in return.”
You shake your head. Men and their fragile ego. “In that case, I might have something for you.” You grab a handful of nuts from a small bowl and move to the hallway. Your kit is still where you’ve left it and a quick search gets you what you need.
Back in the kitchen, you flick the library pass in front of George, and relish in noticing his standoffish attitude wiped away by genuine surprise for a moment.
“Rotwell has its own research department for cases,” you explain. “We field agents don’t get access to the restricted areas, but someone didn’t pay attention when I applied. I’ve always had permission to enter.”
George touches the edges of the little plastic card as though it is a golden credit card. “You mean, I can just take it? And use it?” There’s a sparkle in his eyes, vibrant and strong and very much infectious.
“Unless you want me to ask Bobby—”
George beams at Lockwood. “I’ll go to the Archives first thing tomorrow.”
“There seems to be just one problem,” Lucy points out, tapping the plastic card with a black-polished finger. “Unless you’ve got a surprise prepared for us, George, you are not a girl.”
Everyone looks at your name in bright red letters on the card.
George scoffs. “Gender is just a social construct—”
“Luce, go with George and see if you two can find anything about that symbol,” Lockwood says. “Be discreet and cautious; don’t let anyone know what you’re looking into. Maybe you’ll find additional info on the case we have tomorrow. You know, the one for that man who looks like a rat. Best take your kit with you.”
Lucy hesitates for a moment, sharing a quick glance with George. “What are you going to do?”
Lockwood’s eyes find yours—you’ve had an idea about how to proceed next when he offered you to stay at Portland Row. Knowing what will come puts a damp on your appetite.
“We could go back to where we found the key,” Lockwood says to your surprise—something completely different than you have expected. “See if there’s anything where it could fit.”
“Who gave you the job?” you ask. “I want to know more about that Visitor. What do you know about him?”
“Nothing.” George goes back to wolfing down his food.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” Lockwood repeats severely.
“You’re joking.”
“Last time I checked, we’re agents,” Lockwood says mildly. “Not comedians.”
“Kipps would usually say you’re more like clowns.”
Lockwood clears his throat. “It was supposed to be an easy job. Secure the source, stop the Visitor. DEPRAC had the job available for agencies but everybody gave up on it at one point. We read the file, so we knew what would wait for us. It got to one Dullop and Tweed operative, ghost-locked him. Another one died, unlucky fellow.” For a moment, Lockwood pauses and watches a drop of condensation run on the inside of his orange juice glass. “The client’s the Abbey Mills Pumping Station. About five months ago, they started undergoing reparations on their flooded C Station Pump House. We think that’s what laid the Source bare, it must have been submerged in the water until they started draining the station because that’s when the workers began reporting a permanent chill in one area. They started avoiding that area owning to feelings of faint depression and nausea, followed by strong miasma, ghost-chill, the feeling of being followed and watched while working. Some felt horrible anger towards their colleagues. Up to the point where they would be consumed by it, started beating each other with spanners and shovels. They found the first victim drowned, though it wasn’t clear if it was another employee or the ghost’s fault. Gave DEPRAC quite a headache, figuring out it’s a ghost problem, then finding an agency that can find the source. They dubbed him the Phantom of the Sewage Cathedral.”
You pull up your nose. “Quiet a title. That Visitor must have died there then,” you wager. “Have you checked the station’s accident log?”
“Of course not, we’re bloody amateurs,” George says drily. You bite back a sharp retort. “Nothing in the log stood out. Of course it had its fair share of accidents. It finished construction in 1868 and we all know they didn’t care much for worker’s safety back then. But during the flooding two years ago, there we no fatal accidents. No one died. And when we located the Source, there was no body.”
“You think the key got in there at some point? From where?”
George shrugs. “Anywhere? The pumping station lifts sewage from the London sewerage system into the Northern Outfall Sewer and the Lee Tunnel, which both run to Beckton Sewage Treatment Works. They key also doesn’t look like it’d fit anywhere in the pumping station. I assume it’s older than that. I’m talking 16th-century older.”
“But the thing is,” Lucy says, her hands pressed flat against the table. Her eyes are wide open, glinting. “The ghost we saw is nowhere near that old. The clothes he’s wearing are from the modern era, and he wasn’t decomposed or rotting. I don’t think he’s been dead for that long. It’s sad, isn’t it? He died and to this day, nobody knows he’s gone … nobody is looking for him.”
“Yes, yes, very unfortunate.” Lockwood waves her concern away with an impatient wave of his hand. “I am more concerned for the living though. Not only have we a dangerous Visitor on us. Whoever is looking for the key isn’t afraid of using violence to get it.”
“Maybe the ghost would find his peace if only someone brought him justice,” Lucy shoots back. You notice the anger flashing in her eyes when she looks at Lockwood, hear the impatience in his voice when he brushes her concern for the ghost off like that. Interesting.
“That’s not much to go on,” you say into the silence of Lucy and Lockwood glaring at each other. Your eyes trail around the kitchen, set on the window. Through it you see part of the garden, unkempt and overgrown. Somehow you can’t imagine them sitting out there and drinking apple juice from the apple trees, Lucy in a floaty knee-length skirt and sandals, and Lockwood with a blue cotton shirt, an enormously baggy pair of shorts with flowers on them, and sneakers. “We don’t have a name, no history, and the Visitor might not have any connection to where you found his source.” You chew slowly, cogs turning in your head. When your eyes catch George’s, he is watching you, calm but with intention. You lower your spoon, appetite ebbing away.
“Oh, but we do have one last thing that might help us.” George leans forward, brown eyes gleaming behind his spotless glasses. His face is predatory but his voice is gentle. “Our psychic Talents.”
The bottom falls out of your stomach. It’s like putting a foot wrong on a frozen creek, the crack of ice, the sudden stop, the knowledge that there is nothing beneath but dark water.
“So that’s why you guys really want me here.” Your accusation bears no malice, just the chill and composition of a sniper routinely loading a rifle before making her hit. “Did it ever cross your mind I might say no?”
George falls back into his chair, a deceptively relaxed posture but from the way he flexes his hands on the table it looks as though he’s gearing up for a fight. “It’s the best lead we got. A psychic connection to the ghost might give us a hint on who murdered—”
“We know who murdered him,” you snap. “The same person who wants to put me six feet under next.”
“Would be the logical conclusion, but we’ve made the same mistake once. It’s never that simple.”
“George.” That’s Lockwood’s voice, calm yet firm. You wouldn’t describe his posture like George’s, slouching in his seat; Lockwood is leaning back, fingers steepled. He holds your gaze, purposefully, and you have to look away from its intensity. “No more experiments with psychic connections, we agreed to that.” His brown eyes slide lazily toward Lucy who has her mouth open in what seems like protest, but immediately closes it. For a moment you think her gaze sets on the ceiling as though there is something beyond the brick and mortar, an area or room in this house that would underline her point.
The question mark must be evident on your face. “My speciality is Listening,” Lucy explains. “Touch amplifies it sometimes, but I didn’t get much except sounds from the key, rapid footsteps, shouting, a gunshot—”
“Yeah,” you quickly say before the tang of stale water and foul soil can spread on your tongue. You try and wash it down with tea, welcoming the scalding heat in your mouth. Absently, you rub the spot on your chest where you know the Visitor was shot. “Yeah, I know, it’s uh … not a pleasant source.”
“I’d like to deal with a pleasant source for once,” George mumbles. He’s finished his plate, fingers tapping now on the edge of the table. He flicks impatient looks at Lockwood, who pretends not to notice. “So basically, the only thing we can do now is trying to find something in the Archives, at least regarding that symbol. Oh, and hoping whoever’s after that key doesn’t break in here next. That would be annoying, since it wouldn’t be the first time, and I’m quite fond of our new rug.”
“I know what you’re trying, George,” Lockwood says, with the annoyance of a man who’s already said this often enough, and who also wants to move past this specific topic but can’t. “If this were our last resort, I still wouldn’t force her—or anyone to do something this dangerous.” He’s crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. The fact that he’s mindful of your discomfort using your Talent comes as a genuine surprise.
“You didn’t seem to mind the first time I did it,” you throw in, watching him intently. Lockwood’s shoulders draw together.
“Technically, it was Kipps who brought you in,” he says. “I do want this case solved, but I am against getting involved with ghosts in any way.” His eyes rest on Lucy for a moment, heavy and contemplative. She makes an impressive job of not meeting his gaze.
You look down at your hands as though the answer of all your problems lies within your gloved palms. Either you stick to Lockwood’s plan, keep your hands away from the key, or you stop running from your own Talent. If what you interpret correctly between the unsubtle allusions of Lockwood, Lucy’s Talent doesn’t appear to be your run-off-the-mill Listening either.
A muscle in your jaw clenches, as though you’re chewing on your words before you speak. Finally, you breath, “OK. Let me do it.”
Lockwood stirs in his seat. “You don’t have to.”
“I know. But I hate sitting around and doing nothing even more.”
“All right,” he says slowly. “That means you two stick to the plan and go to the Archives tomorrow. I’ll meet up with you down at the factory for our case.” Lucy and George nod. Lockwood turns to your next. “And you and me will try and see what else the Visitor can show us.”
“Are you sure it’s going to be OK with just you two?” Lucy asks.
“We should start right after dawn breaks,” you say, “when the ghost is at his weakest. What can go wrong?” It will turn out later the answer to that is simple: everything.
taglist: @helpmelmao, @simrah1012, @chloejaniceeee, @fox-bee926, @frogserotonin, @obsessed-female, @avelinageorge, @quacksonhq, @wordsarelife, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @che-che1, @breadbrobin, @anxiousbeech, @charmingpatronus, @starcrossedluvr, @yourunstablegf, @grccies, @sisyphusmymuse, @ettadear, @a-candle-maker
#lockwood show#lockwood books#lockwood & co#l&c#lockwood x reader#lockwood x you#lockwood x y/n#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood#lockwood netflix#lockwood and co reader#reader isnert#lockwood and co reader insert#phill.l&c
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Hi costume anon here!
*ahem* OMFG HOLY SHIT WTF AHDGDKFICG
Your writing was so good!!! I’m crying BLUE BEATLE ROACH!!!!!!! SOAP MAKING THE COSTUMES!!!! POOR GHOST RIP GAZ!!!!! I loved the entire thing poor price has no idea what’s going on but he’s there for his kids (I just looked up dum dum holy shit 😂 that’s spot on) Andy is a little shit and must be protected at all costs! YOU GABE ME A CAMEO I’m gonna faint right after I finish crying over how cute this all was. And holy shit the ART Tactax-art continues to hit it out the convention hall you guys are so fucking talented!! oh no now they know they like each other whatever shall they do?!?!! (Well at least ghost knows) can you imagine if there actually was an incident at one of the cons they went to? shit would be sorted before any of the other guests noticed anything went awry, free security lol. The headaches Laswell must get making sure Andy’s tick tok is clean and he doesn’t accidentally post anything incriminating she deserves a medal (and a pay rise)
Thank you so much for writing this amazing piece incase you couldn’t tell I fucking loved it and it’s made my day!!!! I hope you have just as an amazing start to yours as well and it keeps getting better from there!
Y'know, when I said I'd get the answer to this ask out in a few minutes, I actually meant a day. I guess. Whoops. Whatever, nobody has ever called me punctual in my life, why start now 😅 Anyhoooooo
🥺 Did you like your lil story Costume Anon? I wrote it for you ❤ Just a little thank you for interacting with and encouraging me. A lot of thanks has to go to @tactax-art for it's ideas and art. I would've been so lost without them.
I wasn't planning on writing more, but the idea of Price calling Laswell, "Kate, there's terrorists at the convention center. We need backup, we need weapons, now!" "John, theres no way I can't get anyone mobilized in time. Improvise. It's what you're good at." Well that's juicy... 😈 how would Andy fare, knowing his uncle just garotted a man in the bathroom with a shoelace? Or that his uncles future boyfriend disassembled his cosplay rifle and reassembled it into a working silenced pistol? Well I suppose I'll have to answer those questions.
For those of you who missed it, the post this was left about is this one here.
And the art of course, because I'm obsessed with it: Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Roach cosplaying DC characters.
I hope you're still doing alright, Costume Anon. Until you next write me, my lovely friend and Non-gendered Prince ❤
#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#call of duty#cod mw2#modern warfare#fanfic#text post#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ask hoard#ask answered#ask#costume anon#cosplay au
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Griddlehark Playlist
What the title says, primarily about their relationship although there are a few individualized songs
(very heavily Harrow the ninth biased, which is the most romantic book despite or because of one member of the couple not being to able to remember the other)
Liner notes below cut, also, this is a perpetual WIP like all my playlists
Lioness- The World Is a Beautiful Place and I am Not Afraid to Die
When I was with you we were an estuary
I don’t know if I come from the river or the sea
All I know is you are both my opposite and my reflection
We were two bodies
Running out of room in this world
We carved space in ourselves for the other to borrow, for the other to burrow
I wake up sometimes with ghost traces of your lips on my bones
Cosmia- Joanna Newsom (Joanna Newsom isn't on Spotify, track these down elsewhere)
Water were your limbs
And the fire was your hair —
And then the moonlight caught your eye
And you rose through the air
Well, if you've seen true light
Then this is my prayer:
Will you call me, when you get there?
And I miss your precious heart;
NFWMB- Hozier
Give your heart and soul to charity
'Cause the rest of you
The best of you
Honey, belongs to me
If I was born as a blackthorn tree
I'd wanna be felled by you
Held by you
Fuel the pyre of your enemies
Daughter of God- Phemiec
Doubt’s an elastic that snaps where you grasp it
With idle hands clasped on your wrist just as sharp as
A kiss on the scar where you carved out her name
Or a line that is straight and confined to your fate
You’re resigned to be damned by your hand in her hand
She will hold you as soft as a feather on water
You float on her fingers, she pulls you apart
It’s not hard, it won't hurt, it’s not right for a daughter of god
There is a Light that Never Goes Out- Dum Dum Girls (cover)
And in the darkened underpass
I thought oh, God, my chance has come at last
But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
Take Me to Church- Hozier (I'm allowed two screamingly obvious songs)
We were born sick, you heard them say it
My church offers no absolutes
She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom"
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you
I was born sick, but I love it
Command me to be well
Never Let Me Go- Florence+ the Machine (This is the other one)
And the arms of the ocean are carrying me
And all this devotion was rushing out of me
And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me
But the arms of the ocean delivered me
The Only Thing- Sufjan Stevens
Do I care if I survive this? Bury the dead where they’re found
In a veil of great surprises, I wonder did you love me at all?
Should I tear my eyes out now?
Everything I see returns to you, somehow
Should I tear my heart out now?
Everything I feel returns to you, somehow
I want to save you from your sorrow
Los Ageless (Piano Version)- St. Vincent
How can anybody have you?
How can anybody have you and lose you?
How can anybody have you and lose you
And not lose their mind too?
I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built
I try to tell you I love you but it comes out all sick
I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built
I try to write you a love song but it comes out a lament
Running up that Hill- Kate Bush (Okay, three)
You don't wanna hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware, I'm tearin' you asunder
Oh, there is thunder in our hearts
Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Oh, tell me, we both matter, don't we?
New Ceremony- Dry the River
I waited by your bedside
And couldn't close my eyes all night
I named you like a prayer
It's anybody's guess how
The angel of doubt came down
And crept into your bed
But after we danced to the shipping forecast
The words escaped your mouth:
"I know it's gotta stop, love, but I don't know how."
Now the stairs forget your shoes
And the gate don't creak for want of you
But the jury's out on me
We're wise beyond our years
But we're good at bad ideas, my love
Or so it seems to be
OH ANNA- The Microphones
Oh Anna, take me in with water arms surround me, blow your breezy charms around me
Oh Anna, you're a house of many rooms and all the secrets deep entombed within you
I know a few
Oh Anna, take me to your eerie heights above, paint white letters "I you love"
Oh Anna, drop me off a cliff
I fall
Weights and Measures- Dry the River
I was prepared to love you
And never expect anything of you
There's no patron saint of silent restraint
Baby there ain't no sword in our lake
Just a funeral wake
Just because we're beasts of blame by nature
Doesn't mean that you should carry it again
It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end
No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross- Sufjan Stevens
Drag me to hell in the valley of The Dalles
Like my mother
Give wings to a stone
It’s only the shadow of a cross
I slept on my back in the shade of the meadowlark
Like a champion
Get drunk to get laid
I take one more hit when you depart
The Bomb- Florence+ the Machine (This is "Kiriona Gaia has been abandoned by everybody except two of the worst people in canon and everything except being a warcrimes corpse puppet and she's TOTALLY FINE with that, honest")
But if I was free to love you
You wouldn't want me, would you?
Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on
Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong
I've blown apart my life for you
And bodies hit the floor for you
And break me, shake me, devastate me
Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong
I don't love you, I just love the bomb (Oh, oh, oh)
I let it burn, but it just had to be done (Oh, oh, oh)
And I'm in ruins, but is it what I wanted all along?
Sometimes, you get the girl, sometimes, you get the song
Francesca- Hozier
Do you think I'd give up?
That this might've shook the love from me
Or that I was on the brink?
How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily?
Now that it's done
There's not one thing that I would change
My life was a storm since I was born
How could I fear any hurricane?
If someone asked me at the end
I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin')
I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)
If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin')
I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)
In a Sweater Poorly Knit- mewithoutYou
You're a door-without-a-key, a field-without-a-fence
You made a holy fool of me and I've thanked you ever since
And if she comes circling back we'll end where we'd begun
Like two pennies on the train track the train crushed into one
But if I'm a crown without a king, if I'm a broken open seed
If I come without a thing, then I come with all I need
No boat out in the blue, no place to rest your head
The trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead
Kept Woman- Fleet Foxes (Tbh this is probably the soundtrack to the ideal stigmata fisting/heart regrowing scene)
God above saw, ever in the mind
Blue and white irises in a line
Under your nameless shame
I left you in frame, and you rose to be ossified
As a Rose of the Oceanside
Can you be slow for a little while?
Widow your soul for another mile?
I'm just the same as when
You saw me back then
And we're bound to be reconciled
We're bound to be reconciled
The Chain- Fleetwood Mac
And if you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin'
You would never break the chain
(Never break the chain)
And if you don't love me now
(You don't love me now)
You will never love me again
I can still hear you sayin' (Still hear you saying)
You would never break the chain
(Never break the chain)
Time as a Symptom- Joanna Newsom
So it would seem to be true:
When cruel birth debases, we forget
When cruel death debases
We believe it erases all the rest
That precedes
In the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating
Joy of life;
The nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating
Joy of life
#the locked tomb#playlist#Spotify#orig post#griddlehark#gideon x harrow#gideon nav#harrowhark nonagesimus#fave chars
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ATTENTION MAGENTA/COLUMBIA SHIPPERS: dinner is served 🤭 and this time it’s not meatloaf [ba dum chh]
that was a lot funnier in my head
ANYWAYS. here are some of my headcanons for the two of them and a collection of images i’ve found over the past 2ish years ive been hyperfixated on this movie!! i may have posted some of these hcs before but i. honestly don’t remember what ive said so forgive me if i repeat stuff! and disclaimers for the images: they’re from the rocky horror picture show and the rocky horror show, the one where they are Almost kissing is? a columbia cosplayer? with patricia quinn? lmk if im wrong about that one but im pretty sure that’s not nell campbell. ok with that in mind here ya go!!
-“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” “hello”
-magenta makes columbia like. ten hour mixtapes and columbias like 😀 and then listens to all of it in one day and refuses to pause it
-they have very different music tastes but they both appreciate the stuff the other listens to, but their tastes come together with the b-52s and abba :3
-magenta is a huge horror fan and columbia is Not but she watches scary movies with magenta anyways and is constantly holding a blanket up to her eyes or is burying her face in magentas shoulder
-this involves frank but he has been their wingman since day one. like their mutual pining was obvious to everyone except the two of them and frank kept trying to be like “she’s in love with you idiot” but he was always met with a “no we’re just friends” or “you’re making it more than it is she’s not in love with me”. when they Finally got together he was happy about it for like 3 seconds and then immediately resorted to the “i hate gay people” card and every time they kiss in the same room as him he’s like “GET A ROOOOOM” and gags
-magenta is. really strong. and even though she’s shorter than columbia she can pick her up no problem (columbia tried picking magenta up one time and she did do it but she lost balance and they fell over) (they were fine)
-magenta did not realize how much she loved physical affection until columbia (incredibly clingy) came around RAAAAH I HATE THEM /POS
-this is gonna start off as a rocky headcanon but i will get to them i promise. rocky has basically evolved into philomena cunk and asks the most wild out of pocket questions at the dinner table. magenta and columbia have noticed this and before dinner they always bet on what he’s gonna ask about and at dinner when he asks something whoever’s right kicks the other one under the table (affectionately)
-magenta is a love letters girly i know im right. but since they live in the same house she just slips the letters under columbias door and runs away because she’s a cutie patootie !!! columbia always reads them and writes back and does the exact same method and they’re just like. writing notes to each other. and both of them have incredibly messy handwriting that no one except them can read ☹️☹️ so when frank tried to look over magentas shoulder when she was writing she was like “DONT READ THAT” and he was like “…i couldn’t if i tried”
might add to this more later but that’s what i have for now :3 i am so normal about them i promise. enjoy that semi-coherent rambling and the images!! happy new year everyone :D
#rocky horror#rocky horror picture show#rhps#columbia rhps#magenta rhps#columbia x magenta rhps#rocky horror show
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