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remotewatch · 24 days

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nothing but a sentence 🩸

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.8k wc

summary: period sex with jack for anon ‼️ hope you enjoy lovely 🤍

cw: period sex, period head, certified boyfriend material jack, domestic bliss, whereee did all this fluff come from, sacrilege if you squint, messy eating, unprotected sex (VOTE IF YOU WANNA RECREATE ETC ETC), shoutout to my darling editor Sabrina @mystardustmelodyyy for saving this from limbo 🙏

minors dni get off my lawn

At this point in the relationship, Jack manages your period more than you do. You tend to forget that it requires actually going out and purchasing supplies unless he calls you from the pharmacy to complain.

“Why would they stop carrying ultras? That’s so fucked up! And the boxes are getting smaller, it’s sick what they’re doing to you guys!” It’s too easy to picture him waltzing around with three cases of san pellegrino under one arm and an overflowing snack basket in the other, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while he yaps about pink taxes.

“Do you want canned or fresh lychee? Never mind, I’ll get both.” he decides before you can respond. “Did you want anything else?”

“I want to sleep,” you mumble. You were currently being throttled on two fronts by nauseating cramps and a vicious migraine, leaving no energy left to manage his shopping list. It was hard enough just to reach and grab the ibuprofen without alerting your uterus that you had moved, yet he’s still talking as you doze off:

“We’ve got edibles and melatonin in the cabinet, but I’ll get some mag glycinate, and are you SURE you don’t need…”

“Dealer’s choice, I trust your judgement,” you murmur. “When will you be home?”

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll be back around 6.”

“See you then. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He finds you wrapped in two heating pads, face pressed into the couch, full water glass in the same spot he left it on the coffee table.

“I feel like I just died,” you groan, rubbing your eyes and tentatively stretching your legs.

“Come on, you gotta hydrate,” Jack rustles through the grocery bags looking for a loose water bottle with a sport cap before pressing it against your mouth. He frowns and doesn’t take it out when you try to move away.

“At least half a glass, come on. I’m following orders here.” He’s very gentle not to flood your mouth and make you cough, but you can see his eyes flicker down to watch your lips wrap around the cap (he’s only human, after all).

“Thank you,” you croak when he finally sets it down, voice slightly less raspy than before.

“Do you want a tea? I’m making you a tea.”

He’s off rustling through the kitchen for the ginger lemon amid the boxes of just ginger or just lemon, but despite his best efforts, the noise is killing you. Every shut drawer sounds like a door slamming with this headache, and Jack sounds like he’s still speaking into your ear even though he’s mainly talking to himself.

“And I’ll get started on dinner-what would you like? I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. Oh, also! I got those vaseline body balm rollers you like.”

Your eyes shoot wide open and light up as he trots over to hand you your treat.

“Oh my god, and you found the cocoa butter kind! You’re the best!”

The rich, nutty scent of the balm floods the room when you unscrew the top and gives you a second wind. This and a shower will fix you for sure, just as soon as you can make your way to the bathroom.

Jack fills in the blanks as soon as you look back up at him apprehensively and start with the vague gesturing and “would you mind…”

“Of course not. There’s no need for you be walking right now, that would be crazy!” If you weren’t in so much pain, you’d be swooning at the way he effortlessly scoops you up and walks over to set you down on the glossy teak shower stool (a million percent worthwhile at times like this).

“Do you want any more help in there?” It sounds like a joke, but you know he’d wash you in a heartbeat if you asked. You can’t help matching his smile.

“I think I’ve got it handled.”

“I’ll put dinner on, then.”

When you emerge, your headache has all but subsided, and while you’re still pretty out of it, the heat has done wonders for your cramps and stiffness. You can’t be bothered to do anything but throw on a pair of thinx and flop down onto the bed, slathering on more of your new balm just to keep smelling it.

Jack knocks at the open bedroom door with your tea and a fresh glass of water.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were baking in here,” he teases as sets them on the nightstand. “Dinner is on in 30 by the way.”

The idea of leaving your bed right now sounds about as appealing as getting all your teeth pulled, but you’d never dream of eating on the scrumptious new Matouk linens; the utter disrespect!

“Can you just put me back to sleep instead?”

“Sure, of course. You want a gummy or-“

“Jack!”

“Right, got it!” And he’s skittering off to grab a vibe and towel while you untangle yourself from heating pad cords.

Jack is nearly skipping coming back from the hallway closet with a fistful of toys before rolling you as little as possible to tuck the towel under your lower half. As soon as he’s back within reach, you grab a handful of his hair and drag him down to kneel next to you. He nods at the pile of silicone on the nightstand as he playfully snaps at your elastic: “Are we feeling manual or automatic?”, but you’re already bucking your hips up to shove the underwear down your thighs and wincing at the sudden movement.

“You ok?” He drops the playful tone immediately and furrows his brow in concern. You throw your arm out to grab a toy at random, landing on a satisfier. Perfect.

“Ask me again in ten minutes,” you sigh dramatically to lighten the mood, but you’re still not feeling great.

“Roger that,” Jack bites back a smug grin -as if he’s ever needed all ten- and crawls gingerly into bed to snake one arm under your waist and accept the toy with the other.

It has to be some sort of sick joke how you’re this unbelievably sensitive when you still feel so shitty. Every single nerve ending in your clit is humming in tandem with the pulses of the satisfier; the delicious sensations ricochet up and down your body enough that even your eye sockets feel tingly.

He’s entirely absorbed in making you cum and tuned into every move you make, still glancing up now and then to check for any hint of discomfort. As much as he’s committed to pleasing you, he can’t conceal the blush creeping up his neck and down from his temples, nor his ragged breathing. There’s barely enough time to acclimate and enjoy it before you feel yourself getting drawn right over the edge.

“You’ve got it-don’t fucking move-so good to me, Jack, fuck-thank you,”

You screw your eyes shut on pure instinct while your orgasm rolls through; one of your hands fumbles for purchase in his curls as he mouths sloppily over your breasts. When you manage to take another peek at him, his eyes are all crinkled up like he’s smiling while his mouth remains focused on the task at hand. A little tug on his hair and he’s cheerily licking his way down your abdomen, really letting his tongue drag so he has more time to grind against your thigh. You can already feel the wet spot forming on his boxer briefs, such a romantic!

“Having fun down there?” you purr. Jack jerks his head up, revealing a red splotch on the point of his chin.

“God, yes. Can I lick you? Please?” You’d think he’s the one who’d just came from how breathy he sounds. You cross your ankles between his shoulder blades and readjust your grip on his hair.

“Always.”

For once, Jack shows some restraint eating you. It’s all broad, slow licks in time with your heartbeat; he falls right into a natural rhythm that reminds you of crashing waves. His fingers lace together across your stomach like he’s praying, and each adoring exhale only adds to the effect. Every time he dives back in after catching his breath, a new drip flows out hot and coppery to coat him from the nose down. It’s such a perfect mess; the harsh-edged, gleaming paint job stretching ear to ear and the little smear between his eyebrows make him look like he’s been baptized in your blood.

It’s a wonder he can even hear your faint whispers of “Jack, just-just fuck me, please,” over how shamelessly he’s dragging his face through you, but he’s always been something of a miracle worker.

There’s a long, indulgent slurp like a bathtub finishing draining that makes your thoughts blur around the edges before he allows you to pull him off you and slide your feet languidly under his shorts. You’re way too sleepy to be of much help, but he’s happy to shove the waistband low enough to tuck under his balls and half wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he crawls back up to you.

The blood pools sluggishly towards the high points of Jack’s face, and a drop splatters onto your cheek before he can stop it. Without hesitation, he swoops down to lap it up and kiss a fainter mark in its place. Barely audible, you somehow remember to pant a reminder into his ear.

“You just gotta be careful right now, my cervix is like-”

“-right up front, I remember. I gotcha, no worries,” he presses another sticky kiss to your temple as he pushes halfway in, abs clenching to keep from slipping too deep. He’s delightful as always, but each thrust is winding your nerves tighter, making your clit ache just as much as the rest of you. Fumbling once again at the nightstand, you find another vibe designed to rest snugly between you two so he’s got both hands free to rest his chin on, just rocking away while he watches you drift off. When he hits at just the right angle, you back bows up hard enough to audibly crack in relief. Those waves of relaxation mixing with the constant rumbling from the toy overwhelm you once again, dissolving what’s left of your discomfort and tugging you towards unconsciousness.

Jack can’t hold himself back when he feels you practically sucking him back in on every outstroke, and a brazen whine bursts from his throat as he pulls out, freeing a gush of pink tinged cum. It only feels natural to lean up to kiss him and lap the residual streaks from around his lips.

“Feel better?” he sighs against you, grinning so wide the drier patches on his dimples crack and start to flake off onto the towel.

“So much better,” your words slur together, and the rest of your thoughts scatter once your heads falls back onto the pillow

“You want a hot washcloth?”

“Mmmm,” It takes you a second to piece the simple sentence together; you’re still blinking away the residual stars from your vision.

“In ten minutes?”

#jack schlossberg #jack schlossberg x reader #freak nasty #get a running start put ya javelin in it!!!#anon you pushed a gross button in my head I’m real sorry if it’s too nasty #but also not that sorry #paint his face 2025 #this fic is #branded

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99tech99 · 3 months

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gif by @moonstrider9904 !!!

A/N: I originally wrote a fluff piece as a submission for Summer of Bad Batch. But it’s Tech and the prompt is “Need a Hand?” How can I not be a lil spicy?? 😏

Original here.

Warnings: hand job, getting caught.

2.2k words under cut

You first met the group of siblings you learned to be Clone Force 99 when they stopped at your shop in Ord Mantel. You were rewiring some components at the counter when the little blonde girl had come dashing over first. “What’s a…Certified Preowned Assorted Parts Emporium?” she asked you, reading the sign over your stall. She had expressive brown eyes and a heavy accent.

You laughed. “Fancy name for a junkyard, kid.”

The rest of the group had caught up. Despite the fact that they were with such a sweet young girl, they seemed like an extremely rough crowd. The one with the long hair a had half his face tattooed like a skull, and the one glowering at you with a toothpick in his mouth had a sniper’s crosshair tattooed around his eye. One had lost an arm and replaced it with a scomp. There was also an absolute giant of a man who looked like he could snap anyone or anything in half without effort. Last, though, came was someone who didn’t look like he belonged at all. He didn’t have any visible tattoos and seemed to have all his appendages. He wore goggles and was walking along with his nose in his datapad. When he spoke, it was in a crisp, matter of fact tone.

“Hunter.” Face Tattoo turned. “I sincerely doubt any of the second-rate establishments on a backwater planet such as this would carry the precise components we need for the Marauder.”

“Hey nerd,” you called, only mildly offended. “Fortunately for you, you found the only first rate establishment around.” You winked at the girl. She giggled.

“The definition of first rate is debatable,” Nerd replied, fidgeting with his goggles.

“Alright, then. Let’s deal with the objective,” you shot back. “Give me the list of parts you need and if I don’t have them in stock or I can’t get them with in a standard week, I’ll settle for second rate.”

You held out your hand for his datapad. Nerd looked at Face Tattoo, who nodded. With a heavy sigh, Nerd handed it to you.

“You’ll have to excuse Tech,” said Sniper lazily as you scrolled through the list of parts. “He’s always convinced he has the only brain cells for a radius of 100 clicks.”

You had every part in stock. “C’mon,” you told the group, leading the way to your inventory out back.

After you were able to win your wager with Tech, the Batch started coming around a lot more.

Omega had been the first to capture your heart, and no wonder. She saw the best in everyone and every situation, but was still tougher and more resilient than most adults you knew. Wrecker was almost just sweet but had a knowledge of weapons and explosives that far surpassed your own. It took a minute to figure out Crosshair, but he respected someone who could dish out the sarcasm as well as they could take it. Echo and Hunter were fiercely protective of their squad, and as soon as you demonstrated that same loyalty, you were as good as one of their own. You had even accompanied the Batch on a few missions when your technical expertise would come in handy.

But Tech…It was almost a year since you had met the Batch, and despite the trust and friendship you had with the rest of the squad, you were still getting nowhere with him.

At first it seemed like he should be the easiest for you to get along with. You were both mechanically minded and loved ships and flying. But he almost never even looked up from his datapad when you were around, and when he did, he was always annoyed whenever you tried to help.

It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if you didn’t have such a silly crush on the man. He could rattle off facts for hours on just about any topic in the galaxy. You hadn’t known him to encounter a technological problem he couldn’t resolve. You were tall, but Tech’s lean body still towered over yours. And he was just as much a super solider as any of his brothers. Some of the missions you had accompanied the squad on had gotten pretty rough. Tech was right in the middle of the action, taking tactical risks and scoring hits as much as any of his brothers.

You had spoken to Hunter about your concern a few months ago. “I just don’t understand why he dislikes me so much. I don’t know what I did to offend him.”

Hunter sighed. “Nothing. That’s just Tech. Usually he might have warmed up to someone by now, but I would try not to take it too personally.”

“I’d take it personally,” Crosshair sneered as he walked by.

“Yes, you definitely should,” you quipped back grinning, “since everyone dislikes you on a personal level.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Hunter asked.

You considered. “No, it’s ok. If it really starts to bother me, I’ll bring it up myself.”

You tried to push the issue to the back of your mind, but to no avail.

When you received a message from Omega saying they had returned from their most recent mission, you made up your mind to talk to Tech about it. You headed over to the usual docking bay to welcome the Batch back. The ramp of the Marauder was closed, but you heard the metallic clicking of tools coming from underneath.

“Hello?” you called.

Tech’s voice answered. “Down here.”

Instantly you felt the sensation of butterflies in your stomach. You knelt down, leaning your head under the ship. “Need a hand?” you asked brightly.

“I do not,” he said in a clipped tone.

You held back your disappointed sigh. “Where’s everyone else?” you inquired, still trying to sound cheerful.

“Supply run.”

“And I bet Omega and Wrecker are getting their celebratory mantel mix after another successful mission.”

“That would be a logical deduction based on their past patterns of behavior.”

You examined the underside of the ship. There was quite a bit of carbon scoring.

“Oof, glad you made it back in one piece!” you exclaimed. “Looks like the last mission got pretty hot!”

“Hence the repairs,” Tech replied.

You scooted under the ship to see what he was working on.

He was trying to rewire a circuit board, but his hands were too big to access the compartment properly to remove the panel. He was holding the screwdriver at an angle. Instead of loosening the screw, the tool just kept slipping.

You leaned over him slightly, extending your hand for the screwdriver. “Here, my hands are smaller, I bet I can do it.”

“I do not require assistance,” he said stubbornly.

“I know you know how but that doesn’t change the physics of your hands. Just let me…Ugh, you’re gonna strip the screw, Tech!” you said frustratedly. You tried to take the tool from him but he held it out of your reach.

“What is your problem with me?” you demanded angrily.

“You make everything much harder than it has to be, regardless of what you do, just by being present,” he replied immediately.

You were shocked into silence. You were embarrassed to feel your eyes stinging with tears. “Well, fuck. I’ll go,” you said, starting to wriggle out from under the ship.

“Wait. Will you allow me to clarify what I mean?”

Great, you thought. Hearing in excruciating detail exactly why Tech hates you. “Fine,” you mumbled, blinking furiously to try to keep from crying.

Tech didn’t look at you, but stared up at the underside of the Marauder.

“It is hard for me to say goodbye to you before we leave on missions. While the squad does have an undeniable success rate, there are always variables that cannot be accounted for, and there is no guarantee we will return unscathed, if at all.

“Similarly, it is hard for me to watch you leave at night to return your domicile. I am well aware you are capable of looking after yourself, but I am concerned for your safety and I do not want any harm to befall you.”

Wait. This was not what you were expecting.

“It is hard to watch you interact with my brothers and sister. You have an ease with them you have never had with me. I am quite certain the issue is with me, but I am equally uncertain how to fix it.

“It is hard for me when you seem to know as much about the mechanics and systems of the Marauder as I do. I both resent and respect you for that, and I cannot comprehend how I can harbor both conflicting emotions.”

A pink tinge was apparent in his cheeks now. You could tell he was steeling himself to say something. “And in the spirit of full disclosure…um, yes…THAT gets, uh, hard too on occasion.” He cleared this throat. “Particularly one day when you were performing repairs in a certain pair of pants. I’m inexplicably drawn to you physically. But I don’t know what to do or how you would react to such a gesture.”

He lapsed into silence. Your heart was beating wildly at the implications of his lengthy speech, especially the last bit. “Tech…” you whispered.

“Thank you for your courtesy in listening. You may leave if you like.” he said returning to his usual brusque manner. Tech turned his attention back to the repairs.

“Conduct an experiment,” you suggested with a sly smile.

“An experiment?” he asked, confused.

You rolled over placing one hand on either side of Tech’s head so you were leaning against his chest. You could feel his heart beating through his armor. “Sure. Conduct an experiment and see how I react.”

He looked unsure.

“If it helps,” you whispered mischievously, “I know the pants you mean. I’m wearing them today.”

Hesitantly, Tech reached up. He ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear. Your smile widened.

His hand lingered on your cheek. Slowly he raised his face to yours. Behind his goggles, his beautiful eyes searched your face, settling on your mouth. You couldn’t wait any longer. You pressed your lips to his. For a moment he didn’t react, but then he was kissing you back.

“How do you find the results of your experiment?” you asked, slightly breathless, when you finally broke apart.

“Very favorable,” he said. “However, tests often need to be run multiple times to verify the validity of the original results.”

You laughed softly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He pulled you back to him.

“So…” you murmured against his lips. “You said I make that hard too?” You grinned, blushing. “May I?”

“You want to?” he asked in disbelief.

“I want everything with you,” you breathed.

Tech fiddled with his goggles. “Yes you may.”

You slid off his chest, lying sideways next to him on the ground. Your hand made its way down his chest and abdomen to the waistband of his pants.

You palmed his erection straining against his pants. He felt huge. His cock twitched under your touch. For a moment you fumbled one-handed with the closure on his pants.

Tech moaned softly as you freed him, running your hand up and down his length with a steady pressure.

“Am—am I of sufficient size?” he asked hesitantly.

Gods he was adorable. “Yes,” you said emphatically.

Tentatively his fingers wandered up your body, pausing just under your breasts.

“Here,” you said softly. You tugged down the zipper of your leather vest.

“Mesh’la,” he whispered. Gently he cupped your breast. His thumb traced a gentle circle around your nipple, causing you to shiver in delight.

His brown eyes met yours. “So beautiful, cyar’ika.”

You didn’t know how long the two of you lay there, basking in the touch of each other’s hands and lips. Neither of you were paying any attention to anything else. Not even even when the sound of voices came floating across the landing pad. Or when a pair of boots appeared. A moment later Crosshair’s head peered under the Maurader.

“Found him,” he drawled, making you both jump. “Ooh, look, if it isn’t our favorite little mechanic giving Tech a hand,” he added in taunting delight.

You heard Wrecker’s booming laugh.

You sat up to tell Crosshair off, but smacked your head on the underside of the ship. You rubbed your head, already feeling a bump. “Crosshair!”

Omega’s cheerful voice rang out, “I’ll give Tech a hand too!”

“Omega!” barked Hunter and Echo in unison. “On the ship!”

“Ookayy,” said Omega, simultaneously annoyed and mystified.

“For kriff’s sake Cross, go away,” you snapped.

He didn’t. He was very obviously staring at your tits with a sly grin. “Kitten, I’ll volunteer to give you something to really get a grip on.”

“Ugh!” you quickly zipped your vest back up and threw yourself back down on the ground.

Meanwhile Tech was struggling to contain himself back in his pants.

“Crosshair,” Hunter growled. You could tell he had grabbed Cross by the scruff of the neck and was shoving him onboard.

Another pair of boots appeared. “When you’re both, uh, decent,” said Echo’s voice, “come aboard for a debriefing. And please hurry up about it,” he added.

You turned your head to Tech. He was blushing furiously. For a moment you stared at each other, unable to believe the entire series of events that had transpired. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Next time, we’re going to my place!” you declared.

“Next time?” he asked hopefully.

You grinned and kissed him on the nose. “Mhmm. Lots of times.”

My Master List

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech #star wars star whores #99tech99 writes

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profoundbondfanfic · 3 months

Note

Hello! I love the recommendations you've done so far.

I was hoping if you could provide me with some recommendations for AU Destiel Detective fics?

Thank you so much. Keep up the good work!

hey! Thank you, here are a few:

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight [Mature, 77k words]

Maybe it's the little girl whose disappearance turned into a murder, and whose murder turned into a cold case, and who has now apparently decided to move in with him. Maybe it's the unacceptable hole left in his life when his dumb best friend and partner in (the prevention of) crime decided to go and get himself killed. Maybe it's his brother, whose high-profile career and fantastic girlfriend and first-child-on-the-way are steadily leaving Dean in the dust. Pick one. Pick all of them. The why doesn't matter so much as the what, and the what is this: Dean is pretty sure he's going completely, certifiably insane. Sure, he hasn't started wearing all his clothes inside out, and he still showers on a regular basis (anyways, that's not crazy, just a little eccentric); but there's no getting around the fact that he just threw away his life, his career, and his reputation by dragging out his mom's old necromancy book and summoning a Class A Forbidden Entity to his attic. A cranky one, too. With horrendous bed-head.

As The Sparrow by hubrisandwax [Explicit, 18k words]

It’s 1947. Dean is an ex-marine fighting crime and a very different sort of war to the one he faced in the Pacific as a detective on the streets of LA. This city isn’t all the glitz and glamor it’s made out to be, however, and Dean finds himself tugged in to a world of life-threatening unknowns when Daphne Novak’s body is discovered. Castiel Novak, her husband, was one of Dean’s battalion mates in the war, and he's just as deadly and dangerous as he was two years ago when he saved Dean’s life during the Battle of Okinawa. Except now he’s wanted for his wife’s murder, and Dean just doesn’t believe Cas is capable of that. Is Cas really who he says he is, though? And what will Dean have to sacrifice in order to repay the debt he feels he owes?

Casicorn by everandanon [Explicit, 56k words]

When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)

Chronicles Of A Serial Killer by Duckyboos [Explicit, 52k words]

Dean Winchester has the perfect apple pie life with his shy-but-sweet boyfriend in the suburbs. He has a steady, well-paid job with the LAPD and he’s charming and attractive. Really, he’s living the American Dream. It’s his extra-curricular activities that some may disagree with, as he’s also an accomplished serial killer. To date, his kills amount to around 36 and he’s never been caught. He’s employed by the law, remember? He knows how these things work.

Grounds for Murder by cinderellasleftshoe, sarcasticbones [Explicit, 199k words]

"The weirdos in that coffee shop are always dancing, or playing 'strip Clue,' whatever that is. Once there were sock puppets, and, I'm not kidding, a cookie trebuchet." "Eyeliner?" "Really, Dean? That's all you got out of all of that. That there's maybe a bangable emo guy over there?" Dean shrugged and took another too-large bite of his sandwich. He'd been a detective with the Phoenix PD Violent Crimes bureau for three years, and he'd see a lot stranger things than sock puppets, old ladies, and strip Clue.

like a thief in the night by kingdumbass [Mature, 28k words]

Plagued by nightmares since the death of his mother as a small child, Dean Winchester is no stranger to grief. After the sudden death of his brother and the unexplainable disappearance of Sam’s fiancee Jessica leave Dean reeling, the former detective turns towards alcohol to cope with the loss, but when the news of another missing peron’s case all the way out in Pontiac, Illinois jogs Dean’s memory of an old unsolved case with possible connections to the mysterious note his brother left behind, he feels compelled to pick up where he left off. Though once he rolls into town, he encounters more questions than answers. Namely: what’s real and what’s delusion? And how is the creature from his nightmares tormenting the residents of this small, suburban town?

The Trouble With Blue Eyes by FriendofCarlotta [Explicit, 14k words]

For years now, Dean Winchester has had a mutually beneficial arrangement with Castiel Novak, a fellow private eye. It’s good, it’s easy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Well, except for one thing: Dean’s caught himself a bad case of feelings, and Cas doesn’t feel the same way.

What Once Was Sacred by saltandbyrne [Explicit, 55k words]

Los Angeles detective Dean Winchester works tirelessly to atone for the sins of his father one case at a time. When his best friend Charlie drags him to visit Sam at his new job, Dean stumbles onto a bizarre string of deaths that brings him uncomfortably close to his past. Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel, an enigmatic DJ who plays the sexiest music Dean's ever heard. A chance encounter at Castiel's house reveals that Castiel is an incubus, and Dean must face the lies and the reality of his childhood as a hunter. Dean comes to see that he and Castiel have more in common than he thought, and that guilt can be the hardest thing to cast aside.

You can also check our law enforcement!castiel and law enforcement!dean for more. Also worth mentioning the DestielNoirBang as a future source.

#asks #law enforcement!dean #law enforcement!castiel #group rec

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meetinginsamarra · 5 months

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mayprompts2024, #2 box

So, I had this idea yesterday about a funny little "box"-AU.

I supposed it would become a short ficlet (famous last words) only to find out that it has a lot of potential and I have more ideas about what is going to happen.

I already worked over 2 hours today on it (time that I didn't really have in the first place) and it is nowhere from finished. I don't want to stress myself even more and/or rush this, therefore

Behold Part One of

"The Perfect Place"

--------

Sherlock turned up his collar and plucked up his courage.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged into his mind palace and went through every detail of his plan for the very last time before he would put it into action. He recalled stalking the man for two days, very carefully as to not reveal himself, to deduce all there was to be possibly gleaned from all the minutiae he could observe.

Sherlock found no flaw in his plan (of course he didn't, he never would because he himself came up with it). It had to succeed. There would be no second chance. It was now or never.

He entered and a tiny bell chimed above the door, announcing his arrival. Into battle, Sherlock thought.

“I want to buy a boxspring bed.”

+++++

John Watson startled badly in his seat when he heard the bell chime.

He had not been looking at the door since he had been fiddling with his gun for the umpteenth time (there were no rounds in it so it was safe) because it was boring as hell in the shop.

He had brought his illegal service weapon since the fourth day he worked here as a shop assistent, hoping against all hope that some benign person would storm in and try to rob the cash register (no robber worth their salt would even consider doing this) so that finally something fun and exciting would happen to him.

John had kept his hands and the weapon hidden behind the counter and thus out of sight from the potential customers (he was possibly mad but not that mad) and now he quickly shoved it into a drawer.

John stared at the surprise customer who had stumbled into “Bernie’s Bed Shop” and - holy moly - was he a sight to behold.

On a scale from 1 to 10 the man was a certified 11. John was already jealous of the mattress that would get to hug and caress and wrap itself around this sublime body every night. Life was just unfair.

Still, John could barely believe his luck. Finally, a customer who actually (apart from being the most gorgeuos human being John had ever seen) wanted to buy a bed, even one of those ridiculously posh and expensive ones with boxsprings. Also, being the first one asking for a bed in John's three and a half terrible weeks of working (suffering) as a bed shop assistant.

Thankfully, John remembered to plaster his most winning, helpful and customer-friendly smile onto his face (it was in fact not, resembling rather the anguished expression that a trapped animal with one leg stuck in a bear trap would have) and went around the counter to welcome the god. Godsend.

“Then you are in the perfect place. Bernie’s Bed Shop offers a lot of different boxspring beds. My name is John Watson, may I show you some variants or do you already have something special in mind?”

Sherlock blinked at John. Yes, you, he thought. His throat was suddenly dry with John Watson standing so close to him for the very first time. On a scale from dull to brilliant the man was a certified genius. Simply perfect.

“Show me what you have,” Sherlock asked, slightly husky and meaning something totally different. (He meant what was under these terrible grandpa clothes John wore, of course).

Please God, let him buy a bed, John prayed silently, being painfully aware that as a salesperson he had been utterly failing.

So far, he had merely sold a pair of cheap bedsheets to an elderly short-sighted woman and a heart-shaped decorative cushion to a sloshed builder. He had tried his very best every time when a customer had set their foot into the shop, being forthcoming and friendly and polite but somehow, they had all left more or less quickly without buying anything.

John did not know why that happened every time (it was his anguished smile, obviously) but he did know that this was his last chance to score or Bernie would definitely fire him at the end of this week. John would be without a job once again and would soon have to leave London because even the terrible bedsit he lived (existed) in would become unaffordable.

"Follow me then, please." John walked to the back of the shop where the premium beds stood. "May I present you the 'Royal Metropolis Deluxe'. It has every feature a boxspring bed can have that you could possibly imagine."

Just like your deluxe body, John thought.

I have a very vivid imagination, Sherlock thought and ogled John instead of the bed.

+++++

That's it for today!

Flower Shop AU? Coffee Shop AU? Tattoo Shop AU? Nope! All outdated. I felt there is crying need for a Bed Shop AU. 🤣

tagging some people (tagging on desktop seems to work) @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @raina-at @lisbeth-kk

#mayprompts2024 #number 2 box #calaisreno #my Sherlock ficlets #no beta we die like (wo)men

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cherryo · 2 years

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too scared to ask but i was slowly falling in love with ur blog, IDK IF THIS NEEDS TO BE SPECIFIC but nsfw and swf for Michelangelo (18 OR ABOVE OFC PLS) with gn or female bodied reader?

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! I LOVE MIKEY SOOOOOO MUCH!!! i went with headcanon style for this one! but I loved writing this sooooo much, thank you for requesting sweetheart <33 genre: fluff and smut headcanons pronouns: fem genitalia pairing: AGED UP!Mikey x fem-ish! reader warnings: none really? just obviously explicit themes and cursing<33

-Sfw-

Personally, I think Mikey is the best lover out of the brothers, both romantically and sexually.

Not to say the other brothers' aren't good lovers, they are trust me, but Mikey solos them any day.

Mikey is one of my favorites throughout the whole tmnt franchise, of course, Donnie always will be my number one, but Mikey is the best lover no if’s and butts about it.

He’s caring, sweet, and very in tune with people's feelings around him, which makes him a wonderful person to talk to you, or if you just need to be around him without talking hes got you covered.

He’s understanding as well, don't want to talk and just want to be around him? Awesome!! There's so many things he can do in peace, he can paint, skateboard, cook and so much more and he’s more than willing to let you be around him.

Speaking of being around him, he’s so clingy. He’d follow you into the bathroom if you’d let him, if you genuinely want space, no hard feelings. Donnie needs time and space away all the time so he gets it and while he’ll miss you, he’s more than happy to give you anything you want.

He’ll check in on you by texting or by physically checking on you (with some food of course)

He loves doing anything for you, you want to go shopping? He’ll hold your bags!

You want some food? No no we dont need to go out, he can cook you something!!

You want to cuddle and nap? He’s already in his bed

Want to have a movie marathon? He’s got snacks and blankets at the ready!

He loves you so so much, would do anything to protect you and make sure you’re okay. If you knew him before the Kraang invasion then he’s ten times more protective. Hardly wants you to go the surface or out anywhere without him, wont necessarily hold you back or keep you anywhere but he’s nervous anytime you go out alone.

He’ll definitely want you to take part in his hobbies, painting is more of you being his muse and basically art puppet. Cooking either goes one of two ways, you either get the hang of it and he lets you cook with him all the time or you cant cook and you get banished to sitting at the island in the kitchen.

He loves you, and would worship the ground you walk on if he could. (He definitely tries to)

His pet names for you are “sweetheart” and “angel” he has more he calls you but those are the main ones .

-NSFW-

- THE MAN IS A CERTIFIED LOVER!!!!

- you've never felt so good during any sexual interaction as you have with him!!!

- Like I said he'd worship the ground you walk on if he could, so of course he'll worship your body instead!!!!

- Oh man, he loves to eat, and that does not exclude your cunt!! He could eat you out for houuuuurrrrs at a time, he's more than willing to prep you for sex!!

- He cares more about you cumming than him cumming, he wants you to have the best orgasms every time you guys have sex.

- He's told you that seeing you cum, and knowing it was good, would totally suffice for him.

- When you mention a new thing to try, he's already researching to find a safe way to go about it (shibari, wax play, anything you want really!!)

- He's so up for trying new things with you <33

- Also!! Fucks you like there's no tomorrow, literally every round is just as good as the first round. He could go on for multiple rounds too, not just 2 or 3 , no I'm talking 5-8

- This man has so much stamina, you can't handle it sometimes!!

- The best aftercare you've ever had, he had snacks, water and towels ready to go so he wouldn't have to leave you. If he does leave you it's to go and get warmed up blankets or to get pj's for the both of you.

God, he's such a good lover <33

#ChaseWrites #rottmnt #rottmnt smut #michealangelo #Rise mikey #mikey smut #god i love this turtle so so much

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foxieflower · 3 months

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57, 31, 60, 38, 10, & 17 for the otp asks if ur still doing those?

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

V: Vanquish definitely is the one to have a list and follow it to the T, however, he doesnt entirely stop Aywin from tossing extra stuff in there, only stopping him if it get ridiculous.

A: Aywin is definitely the certified silly boy when it comes to grocery shopping. He can shop for himself when he's on his own, but in most AUs he lets Vanquish take over any shopping like that. Grocery shopping for Aywin is "treat time" now lol

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.)

V: Its literally not possible for them to sit next to each other and not be touching each other. Whether its just an arm around Aywin or pulling AYwin into his lap, they're always just holding onto each other somewhere

A: IMPOSSIBLE. Aywin usually tends to migrate slowly into Vanquish's lap over the course of the time they're sitting next to one another. Its the best seat in the house anyway.

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

V: Oh yeah, Aywin probably cant exactly pull Vanquish closer to him based on size differences but Vanquish will happily pull Aywin closer like as if hew was his security blanket (He kinda is)

A: I feel like this is on Vanquish most of the time just due to size difference lmao. I can perfectly picture a scenario where a very eepy Aywin is trying to pull an asleep Vanquish closer, and Vanquish's body just naturally reacts and moves closer to Aywin. Vanquish's tail wrapping around both of them as they drift off together.

38. Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla?

V: It definitely depends on if its a specific au or not, but going from like the main archive, I feel like its pretty even, just in different ways. Vanquish is more likely to indulge in kinks in the leather and binding sense, vs Aywin's more fantastical use of magic. But in the end... neither of them are really vanilla

A: SKSKSK okay so like, I feel like they're both experimental in their own ways. Aywin will experiment a lot with magic. Erotic usage of mage hands, pain and pleasure thru various magical effects, clones of himself or Vanquish, and so much more. Aywin can and will absolutely dominate Vanquish's mind and senses in the bedroom if the tiefling wants that from him.

10. Describe their first date.

V: Its definitely interesting, in some AUs they actually have a real first date and in some, its more like just them finally sitting down and enjoying each others presence in front of a meal. I feel like its something in which Vanquish either makes or buys a special meal just for Aywin and there they can talk and slowly get to know each other and find out that they can no longer live another day without the other.

A: The first date for them is always something so magical, no matter what AU. I think both men find themselves nervous and anxious at the same time. They find themselves opening up so easily with one another, the connection was always instant and it grows so quickly between them. Their fingers quickly find themselves itching to mingle with one another, hands intertwining as they laugh at each other's jokes and stories. Vanquish wowing Aywin with well told tales of his past and Aywin impressing Vanquish with his wild magic. Its a date that once it starts, it just never seems to end and both men are fine with that.

17. Who’s more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

V: Vanquish absolutely loves loves loves, to pull Aywin close and kiss him as passionately as he can. Either letting him dip low, lifting him high, or bowing his body so they reach each other easily.

A: Again, just based on size alone, Vanquish. That tail of his will wrap around Aywin's waist often, pulling the half-elf in for a sudden kiss that both men melt into. I feel like Aywin is more of the "run and leap into Vanquish's arms" type of guy when it comes to those passionate kisses, which he loves to do when Vanquish gets home from work.

#foxie thoughts #vanquish and aywin #vanquish the tiefling #vanquish #vanqwin #aywin the half-elf

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shinader · 4 months

Text

Yoshie Koda

Hey fellas I'm doing the thing again! Rambling about the OC yippee! Once again I'll be starting with describing my thoughts behind the name!!

For Yoshie, I had a few names thought up. When giving these characters first names I always consider the meaning behind the name so I go through a list of Japanese names along with their meanings. And when I can't settle on one I present it to my lovely beloved @mrfamousthirsttrap to choose for me and she went with Yoshie (好恵) which, according to the site I use, means nice favor/grace. Pretty fitting as I'll elaborate on in a minute but girl only chose the name bc it was similar to Yoshi.

As for Koda, the whole debacle with THAT will be in the next post when I introduce her husband. It's his name, after all, she simply happily took it. I never established a maiden name for her, either. Not important for the story I have to tell.

Yoshie my beloved<3 She has an important role in both the protagonist's & deuteragonist's lives. For Mr. Takeshi the Protagonist, well, she is the weapons tutorial lady. For those familiar with the Yakuza series, you likely remember Kamiyama, the illegal weapons dealer. In Yakuza 3, to unlock every weapon in his shop, you must get certified by the stranger that's training on your private beach. Yoshie is effectively the Kamurocho equivalent of that guy, keep fighting her and get access to more weapons.

Describing her like that makes her seem like a lifeless NPC only meant to be used for gameplay purposes but that is certainly not the case. Each time Takeshi gets a new certification he also gets closer with Yoshie, learning more about her and her connection to the whole story that's unfolding. On top of that, she ends up as a sort of mother figure to Takeshi, something he desperately needs.

Yoshie's connection with weapons runs deep, she's constantly training her body to use them every day, keeping maintenance on them to make sure they're always combat ready, and takes training others very seriously. Unfortunately for her, a lot of what she deals with is illegal, so she's a criminal through and through.

That criminality is etched into her body, same as a yakuza. Yoshie didn't always have tattoos, of course, but when she got engaged to a man in the Yakuza she got sleeves. If her and her husband's tattoos are overlayed on top of one another, they would connect perfectly. They are permanently bonded to each other and the darkness.

With all female characters I'm creating for this story, I want to make sure their story is deeply interwoven with femininity. Yoshie herself is mostly to do with Motherhood, as themes of Family is of course big in this story. There are all sorts of ways a family can be made, and though she's never had a child of her own, that doesn't stop her from caring for others as if they were her own. I mentioned above her thing with Takeshi, but I haven't yet elaborated on Ceddy.

When Ceddy was born, Miyazaki was understandably blindsided by the whole thing. He wasn't sure what to do in the slightest. He wasn't meant to be a father, he was barely a responsible Patriarch as it is, an actual child would not survive with him. That is, that's what he thought, but Yoshie was adamant he keep him, take responsibility for his actions, and raise him right. She, of course, volunteered her and her husband to help raise him. It takes a village, after all.

Yoshie had always loved kids. It always felt natural to simply care for them. However, due to her and her husband's jobs, it would be irresponsible to add a baby to the equation. So they decided they would never raise a child together.

Ceddy, however, was already born. His best chance was with them. So Yoshie made sure they took that chance. Though Ceddy calls her "Auntie Yoshie" she is the closest thing to a real mother he has. And she made a great call, too. Miyazaki was surprisingly a natural and if it weren't for his job he wouldn't really have needed help from the Kodas. There isn't a day that goes by that Miyazaki isn't grateful for their help with everything, though. The bond between the Miyazakis and Kodas is much, much greater than blood.

And next time, I'll put a little close on their little story when talking about Shin Koda!!

#bc i ced so #ced ocs #ced:yoshie

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stevenbasic · 2 years

Text

GITJ Post 287: A Date at the Movies, p3 (BOOMfood)

You’ll have to haha put him in diapers for real if he keeps doing this, Missy.”

huh..?

“Yeah the poor thing isn’t potty trained any more!”

where am I..?

The doctor, a board-certified gerontologist and recent divorcee, began to stir awake. Laying in a booth of bright red pleather, his head on a plush, womanly lap which he immediately knew was that of his new Office Manager, he heard the voices of not only her but several other employees of his. There was also something softly bulky strapped around his waist and hips.

“Well, I can’t stay forever,” said a smoky, female voice he identified easily as Randi Mongillo’s, who worked at his scheduling desk and managed the office’s social media, “I think I finally outgrew this bra tonight. It’s killing me. When are the new ones for us all coming in?”

He squinted against the overhead lights.

“Oh haha I don’t know,” answered Melissa Monroe, indeed the woman in whose now-bare lap he’d apparently been sleeping. Her hand, he felt now, was idly playing itself through his thick hair, “it might be a couple weeks?”

“We’re going to need them quick if you two keep this up!” added who he thought was Josie Jensen, one of his new medical assistants.

“Or if I drink any more of this shake!” quipped Shanette Stevens, over whose lap he now felt his legs and lower body rested. What was wrapped around his hips?

“They’re so good though!” he heard Stephanie’s voice remark; from his low vantage she sounded like she was sitting across the table, “I don’t know how Bessie’s not five hundred pounds, working here.”

Roused a bit more by his curiosity, and only now starting to remember what had happened earlier this evening at the movie theater, Dr. J began to slowly raise himself up. Where the hell was he?

“Ooooo look who’s awake!” cooed Shanette, immediately shifting herself a bit to allow him to move.

“Oh hi sweetie!” sang Melissa, whose strong arm he felt now come behind him and helping him start to sit up between she and Shanette on the booth’s faux leather bench, “Did you have a nice nap?”

Nap? Oh, jeez, yes… he thought, recalling in a sudden rush of shame how he’d been made to explode in his pants in the theater. He must be a mess of-

“You missed the best parts of the movie!” laughed Josie, who - as he was raised up a bit more - he now saw was sitting across the table from he and Shanette, squeezed in between Randi and the pretty blonde gym-bunny Stephanie. As she addressed him, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. They were all in some sort of restaurant, brightly lit, furnished and accessorized to look like some retro malt-shop soda-fountain thing. “She-Hulk got so huge and had this crazy fight with Giant Black Widow before-“

“Hey no spoilers!” called Lakshmi, over her shoulder, “He may want to watch it himself!”

He saw that she had just stepped by their table holding some sort of tall milkshake or smoothie, and was taking a seat on a stool pulled up to a counter along a white, subway-tiled wall with several other girls from the office. He couldn’t help but watch her sit. Good lord look at that, how her ass spreads, how far the seat sinks down and bounces...this is Lakshmi? Amazing…

Still in half-stupor, as he mindlessly marveled at Lakshmi’s rear, Melissa and Shanette continued to help him sit, pivoting his body towards the table. He was coming slowly back to reality, noticing how each girl had their own smoothie in a tall plastic cups, and remembered how he’d borrowed Lakshmi’s hoodie for warmth. She wasn’t wearing it, here. Was it, maybe, what he felt around his wais- ?

“Oh god!” he suddenly blurted, when he finally looked down to see that he’d been wrapped, around his hips and waist, with Lakshmi’s thick white sweatshirt. And not just tied casually around him - it had been put on him like a diaper!! Over his pants, yes, but pulled up around his crotch, secured and looped around his groin, hips, covering some of his upper thighs. It did! It totally looked like a diaper!! “What do you d-?!?” He flushed, blood rushing to his face and head, and in his panic immediately started to try to undo the thing.

“Nuh-uh-uh…!” Melissa quickly stopped him, her hands - and those of her friend Shanette sitting at the end of the booth to his left - grabbing his, gently pulling them away. They didn’t want him to mess with their handiwork. “Shhhhhshhhshhh… we had to,” she continued, “You made such a mess in your khakis. I had to be able to carry you out of the theater without anyone seeing.”

“B-b-but…like this?!?” he stammered, aghast.

“Like what,” Randi snickered, “Like a diaper? What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s humiliating is whAT it is!” he whined, his voice cracking as it tended to do these days, especially when upset. The girls - Shanette and Melissa - still had grasp of his hands, and were now embracing his arms, scooching in to sandwich him.

“Awww but it looks cute on you..!” Josie giggled, leaning in towards him to flaunt a healthy display of cleavage, gently laying her breasts on the table, striking him with the challenge of eye contact.

“Diaper for the little baby-man…” cooed Shanette, turning a bit in her seat to squish and squeeze his thin arm between her big boobs, squashing them around it and then giggling down into his ear. Her coconut scent was strong and sweet, and calmed the protest he was just ready to voice.

“Awww…” returned Stephanie, across from him and to the left, having heard Shanette belittle him without complaint and so diving in herself with a smile on her dimpled cheeks and a filling breath for her shapely chest, “…little man.” She cocked her head, watching for his reaction. He had none, really, no retort. He was cowed, she could see, lost and minimized amidst this strong group of pretty women. It was so cool; this was their boss, and they had him nervous and embarrassed like a little boy, a helpless simp.

“Ooo look at you blushing,” Shanette purred to him.

“Your brain really stops working when we wear revealing clothes, doesn’t it?” Randi quipped, now leaning in herself a presenting her own not-to-be ignored rack. She’d buttoned her black silk top up a bit earlier as the night had become crisp, but to draw his eye she now undid one, then two. “Missy I think you’re getting to be the smart one in this relationship for a change.”

To that Melissa giggled, and felt herself pull in towards him. While Shanette had his skinny little arm between her large breasts, Melissa’s chest seemed to consume his entire shoulder, her cleavage overwhelming his whole right side. “Oh, Randi, be nice,” she finally retorted, “or one of us might fire you.”

“Oh he wouldn’t do that, now, would he?” Stephanie teased, pushing a lock of long blond hair away from the open neckline of her pink spandex top when his eyes drifted to her. She took a sip of her smoothie.

“You two love us too much for that,” Randi confidently jeered.

“We really do..!” Melissa laughed, agreeing. Part of her actually felt a little bad for him, watching the girls play-bully him like this. She cared for him, so much, and could tell he was squirming with the ignominy of their relentless teasing, the poor thing. But she was caught up in it, too: it was just so exciting! Treating boys like this was thrilling, watching them be so helpless. It was only dimly, though, that she realized this about herself, how she acted and even thought a little differently when her friends were around. She was not as protective of him and his feelings as maybe she should be, she was more aggressively dominant. Like, at the movie. What had come over her, jerking him off in his pants right there, in the middle of everyone? She knew that would be humiliating to him, but she felt she was just being playful, and it felt so good to be able to toy with him like that. What she didn’t completely realize was that there was a pheromone feedback loop already deeply connecting her and the other girls. Yes, hers may be affecting them, changing them in actual physical ways, some quite strange…but theirs had their own effects on her, too, making her act and think in ways she otherwise might not. Making her want to, haha, dominate him like the shrunken little subby simp he was becoming for her. Ah it made her need to cross her big legs under the table, just the thought of it!

Yes, she wanted to be the boss, she wanted women to run things. It was - as everyone was saying - their turn. He’d get used to it, he would. And, in the end, she knew she needed to be a good girlfriend for him. It would take him some time, but she could make it so nice.

“Don’t worry,” she cooed, her affection for him bubbling up inside her womanly chest as she took his chin in her right hand and tilted his face and eyes up to meet hers, “I’ll take you home soon and clean you up.” At that she leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, causing all the girls around her to squeal in delight and his toes to curl anew, his lids fluttering closed. The kiss was full of both promise and the strawberry taste of her own milkshake, her voice soft and syrupy and disguising still just how exciting this was, watching her little boss-man beau, her heartthrob, be utterly surrounded by her friends. They were, all of them in the booth, leaned into him, encompassing him, with him in the little makeshift diaper they’d put him in. He looked so helpless, so adorable! And when she broke their kiss his eyes opened and looked plaintively up into hers. Omigoddddd…she wanted him again!

“Oh, hey Dr. J, you’re awake. Welcome to BOOMfood..!” they both heard, to their left. He saw Melissa’s eyes look up and she smiled. He turned to see standing at their table one of his new young employees, dressed as a…waitress? Thin, shapely, long brown hair. Simple girl-next-door gorgeous. Bessie, right? But…what?? What’s she doing here? He blinked, confused, his mouth agape as he was still recovering from Melissa’s devastating kiss.

“Like the uniform?” Bessie giggled down to him, doing a quick pirouette to flaunt her sky blue retro diner-style waitress outfit, short of skirt to show off comely legs, holding a small tablet. “I work here on weekends, still,” she said, beamingly, “it’s fun. And my mom’s a manager.”

“oh…h-hi Bessie,” he finally managed. Had she said ‘BOOMfood’? Is that where they were? He’d heard of the place, vaguely; the girls at work had mentioned it before. A smoothie bar the ladies liked, right?

“You have Bessie to thank for getting you in here,” Randi began, as she pulled her tall drink towards herself and took a long draw through the straw.

“Yeah usually no boys allowed,” Josie nodded. Indeed, looking around - though the place was busy - his was the only male face in the joint.

“But you were passed out…”

“…and Missy was carrying you…”

“…you really did look cute.”

He knew there were more and more businesses like this these days - restaurants, gyms, shopping centers, banks - that catered to a solely female clientele. It made sense, he figured, if women felt more comfortable sometimes just among their own. It was a trend, and BOOMfood was certainly popular. A franchise, he gathered, as he’d heard there were others popping up across the country. He couldn’t help but suddenly feel even more out of place, as he looked around at the various groups of females. There many like their own, young women hanging out in booths and along the counters that lined the walls. Friends on a Saturday night, a group over there that looked like they just came from the gym. Had they, any of the women in the place, noticed him?

“So, can I get you guys anything more? Some refills?” Bessie asked, glancing around at the partly- or half-full smoothie cups on the table.

Only Melissa’s was empty. “Yes!!” she exclaimed, pulling the sole menu on the table away from Josie and towards herself and Dr. J. “What one should I get next?” She directed his attention to the glossy laminated list of BOOMfood’s offerings, of which there were but a few, a simple menu. No food, only smoothies. “Should I get another one of these?” she asked him, pointing a long, elegant finger at the first item on the list.

“The She-Hulk: Get Bigger than Him! Protein to the Max!”

There it was, ‘She-Hulk’ again. He wanly chuckled, but then his brow furrowed as he began to read over the menu, its descriptions.

“Oh, don’t worry, Dr. J,” came Bessie’s words of assurance, “They’re full of good stuff for ladies.”

“Is this all…legal?” he asked, voice suddenly laden with concern as he read through the ingredients in what all these women around him were obviously drinking. The girls across the table had begun to chat a bit amongst themselves.

“Oh for sure don’t worry it’s all legal,” Bessie explained, chipper, “It’s just natural supplements, vitamins, enzymes, hormone enhancers…”

Melissa continued reviewing her choices. Such decisions! “Maybe I should get ‘iCute - IQ Enhancer: Because Brains are Hot!’ Mmm, blueberries. Or….ooooo, haha! Maybe you’d like it if I got this one…

“The MILFshake - Ooooo Gaga…! Become Everything Your Good Boy Needs!”

Yikes, he thought, listen to some of these ingredients…Alfalfa, Milk Thistle, Fennel. To him, a trained physician, it sounded like malarkey. But if he’d paid attention in the lectures in med school about natural supplements, he’d know a little bit about the use of these herbs as galactagogues.

“What’s ‘Shatavari Root’?” Melissa asked, getting a shrug from both the doctor sitting next to her and their young waitress.

“I dunno but it’s really good,” Shanette beamed, “you should totally get the MILF-shake, Missy!”

He continued to read the ingredient list, softly and mostly to himself: “Fennel, Fenugreek, Pueraria mirifica…” It was a long list, and a quick search would find many of them listed as xenoestrogens or domperidone analogs. He, spoke with concern, feeling his voice being ignored. “Dong-quai, meta-zearalenone..?”

Bessie, at least, was paying attention. “Yes! All really healthy, natural stuff. Totally organic,” she lauded, as Stephanie across the table was finishing up her ‘She-Hulk’ with extra branched-chain amino acids smoothie and ordering another. “But my mom says that soon, after the election and when laws get relaxed, they hope to be able to add more, like, special ingredients.”

“Is there anything he can have?” Melissa asked, finally looking up from the menu, “And yeah I’ll have the MILFshake.”

“uhhhh…” he began, surprised and not necessarily confident he wanted anything, ��I’m, uh, probably n-“

Bessie wrinkled her brow, prettily, and talked right over him. “The only one they’ll let him get isn’t listed there. It’s only on the takeout menu,” she explained, “But I can get one made up for him. It’s a veggie energy shot for men. It’s got kale, ginkgo, red gins-“

“He’ll take a double…” Randi ordered, dryly.

Before he knew it, Bessie was back with a tray of new “BOOMfood”. His, small and green in a little 6-oz plastic cup, was dwarfed by the extra-large large shakes and smoothies the girls had ordered. While Bessie was away they’d all quickly finished whatever was left of their first drink, and were now eagerly sucking their ways into their second. He marveled a bit at how much these young women could put away; little did he know their bodies were all craving sustenance after their newest post-carnal growth spurt of two hours ago, in the theater. These smoothies, full of protein and calories, were like lifeblood to them, fueling growth, building muscle and fat.

His drink, on the other hand, looked meager, and was placed unceremoniously before him, a small thing, no straw.

“You do it like a shot,” Bessie explained, seeing the distaste on his face.

“C’mon, sweetie, it’s probably really good,” Melissa urged, as already he felt his hand reaching for it. A shot, huh? Randi had jokingly ordered him a double, and it looked too big to take in one swig. This would require some gulping.

“Alright here goes,” he announced, picking up his drink and sloshing as much of it as he could in. As the girls watched, sucking happily on their straws, his mouth was filled with a slimy, slightly salty but somehow sweet…he seemed to recognize that bite…bitterness. He held it in his out-pouched cheeks, and looked down into his cup. He’d taken maybe just-over half of it.

“Time for you to swallow, precious,” cooed Shanette from above.

His eyes were watering a bit, looking up at her. Okay here goes…

<Gulp>

Yuck.

His eyes watered more, and he regarded again the remaining green sludge in his cup. “What do they call this thing?” he asked Bessie, “Does it have a name?”

“Oh, uh, like I said, it’s just listed on the take-out menu…” she said, casually, having started to clear away the old, empty cups, “...it’s called ‘Boner Alert’.”

===============================================

Thx to H.G .Wells for the ‘Boomfood’ term; I know it’s been used in other GTS stories before; just thought it fit here nicely.

check me Patreon for the latest posts; we're up past 300(!!)

#growing into the job

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99tech99 · 3 months

Text

Need a Hand? - Summer of Bad Batch

gif by @moonstrider9904 !!

A/N: This was completed to fulfill week 5 of Summer of Bad Batch! The prompt was “Need a Hand?” This version is fluffy, but I’m working on a spicer version too 😏

WARNINGS: Fluff

1.9k words under cut

You laughed. “Fancy name for a junkyard, kid.”

“Hunter.” Face Tattoo turned. “I sincerely doubt any of the second-rate establishments on a backwater planet such as this would carry the precise components we need for the Marauder.”

“Hey nerd,” you called, only mildly offended. “Fortunately for you, you found the only first rate establishment on this backwater planet.” You winked at the girl. She giggled.

“The definition of first rate is debatable,” Nerd replied, fidgeting with his goggles.

You held out your hand for his datapad. Nerd looked at Face Tattoo, who nodded. With a heavy sigh, Nerd handed it to you.

“You’ll have to excuse Tech,” said Sniper lazily as you scrolled through the list of parts. “He’s always convinced he has the only brain cells for a radius of 100 clicks.”

You had every part in stock. “C’mon,” you told the group, leading the way to your inventory out back.

After you were able to win your wager with Tech, the Batch started coming around a lot more.

But Tech…It had been almost a year since you had met the Batch, and despite the trust and friendship you had with the rest of the squad, you were still getting nowhere with him.

You had spoken to Hunter about your concern a few months ago. “I just don’t understand why he dislikes me so much. I don’t know what I did to offend him.”

Hunter signed. “Nothing. That’s just Tech. Usually he might have warmed up to someone by now, but I would try not to take it too personally.”

“I’d take it personally,” Crosshair sneered as he walked by.

“Yes, you definitely should,” you quipped back grinning, “since everyone dislikes you on a personal level.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Hunter asked.

You considered. “No, it’s ok. If it really starts to bother me, I’ll bring it up myself.”

You tried to push the issue to the back of your mind, but to no avail.

“Hello?” you called.

Tech’s voice answered. “Down here.”

Instantly you felt the sensation of butterflies in your stomach. You knelt down, leaning your head under the ship. “Need a hand?” you asked brightly.

“I do not,” he said in a clipped tone.

You held back your disappointed sigh. “Where’s everyone else?” you inquired, still trying to sound cheerful.

“Supply run.”

“And I bet Omega and Wrecker are getting their celebratory mantel mix after another successful mission.”

“That would be a logical deduction based on their past patterns of behavior.”

You examined the underside of the ship. There was quite a bit of carbon scoring.

“Oof, glad you made it back in one piece!” you exclaimed. “Looks like the last mission got pretty hot!”

“Hence the repairs,” Tech replied.

You scooted under the ship to see what he was working on.

He was trying to rewire a circuit board, but hands were too big to access the compartment properly to remove the panel. He was holding the screwdriver at an angle. Instead of loosening the screw, the tool just kept slipping.

You leaned over him slightly, extending your hand for the screwdriver. “Here, my hands are smaller, I bet I can do it.”

“I do not require assistance,” he said stubbornly.

“What is your problem with me?” you demanded angrily.

“You make everything much harder than it has to be, regardless of what you do, just by being present,” he replied immediately.

You were shocked into silence. You were embarrassed to feel your eyes stinging with tears. “I’ll just go then,” you said, starting to wriggle out from under the ship.

“Wait. Will you allow me to clarify what I mean?”

Great, you thought. Hearing in excruciating detail exactly why Tech hates you. “Fine,” you mumbled, blinking furiously to try to keep from crying.

Tech didn’t look at you, but stared up at the underside of the Marauder.

Wait. This was not what you were expecting.

“It is hard to watch you watch you interact with my brothers and sister,” he continued. “You have an ease with them you have never had with me. I am quite certain the issue is with me, but I am equally uncertain how to fix it.

He hesitated. “It…is also hard for me when I see you smile or your hair falls in front of your face when you are working. Or…” he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Or when you are in…certain positions, making repairs. I’m inexplicably drawn to you physically. But I don’t know what to do or how you would react to such a gesture.”

He lapsed into silence.

Your heart was beating wildly at the implications of his lengthy speech. “Tech…” you whispered.

“Thank you for your courtesy in listening. You may leave if you like,” he said returning to his usual brusque manner. Tech turned his attention back to the repairs.

“Conduct an experiment,” you suggested with a shy smile.

“An experiment?” He looked over at you, confused.

You rolled over onto your stomach, propped up on your elbow so your face was above Tech’s. Your hair fell forward in front of your shoulder. “Sure. You said you’re physically drawn to me when my hair is down. Or when I smile. Conduct an experiment and see how I react.”

Hesitantly Tech reached up. He ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear. Your smile widened.

“How do you find the results of your experiment?” you asked, slightly breathless, when you finally broke apart.

“Very favorable,” he said. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks. “However, tests often need to be run multiple times to verify the validity of the original results.”

You laughed softly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He pulled you back to him.

Neither of you were paying any attention to anything else. Not even even when the sound of voices came floating across the landing pad. Or when a pair of boots appeared. A moment later Crosshair’s head peered under the Maurader.

“Found him,” he drawled, making you both jump. “Ooh, and if it isn’t our favorite little mechanic too. Looks like she found something she likes,” he added in taunting delight.

You heard Wrecker’s booming laugh. “About time!”

You sat up to tell Crosshair off, but smacked your head on the underside of the ship. You rubbed your head, already feeling a bump. “For kriff’s sake Cross, go away,” you snapped.

With a final smirk, he stood up and walked onboard.

You turned your head to Tech. He was blushing furiously now. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Next time, we’ll go to my place!” you declared.

“Next time?” he asked hopefully.

You grinned and kissed him on the nose. “Mhmm. Lots of times.”

(My Master List)

Slightly 🌶️ version here

@summer-of-bad-batch

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #summer of bad batch #summerofbadbatch2024

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hoperays-song · 1 year

Text

Required Information Sheet For The Human AU: Marcus

General Information:

Last Name: Taylor

First Name: Marcus

Middle Name: Christian

Nickname(s): Markie and Mark

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Gender Identity: Cisgender

Sexuality: Demisexual

Birthdate: November 12, 1973

Ethnicity: British

Dietary Style: Vegetarian

Known Languages: English, Hindi, and ASL.

Appearance Information

Hair Color Hex Code: #AC4F02

Curl Texture: 4b

Eye Color Hex Code: #3B3B3B

Skin Tone Hex Code: #321F0C

Beauty Mark(s): Scattered body scars and tattoos

Glasses/Contacts: Reading glasses that are worn occasionally

Height: 6’4.5”

Weight: 234lbs

Build Type: Rectangle

Clothing Aesthetic: No real word for it but jeans, tank tops, and coveralls. Mechanic?

Education Information:

Past Education: London School of Economics

Skills Education: Automotive Mechanic Apprenticeship at Tower End Mechanic Shop

Degree(s)/Certification(s): Masters in Business Management, Bachelors in Engineering, Certified Automotive Mechanic, and Licensed EMT

Career Information:

Past Employment: Automotive Mechanic

Current Job: Automotive Mechanic and Garage Owner

Company: Taylor Family Garage

Extracurriculars: Parole Work (Meals On Wheels)

Parentage Information:

Biological Parent 1: Ann Grace Taylor

Relation: Biological Mother

Relationship: Nonexistent (Disowned)

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Career: Stay At Home Mom

Birthdate: September 11, 1950

Biological Parent 2: Christian Arthur Taylor

Relation: Biological Father

Relationship: Nonexistent (Disowned)

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Career: Insurance Company CFO

Birthdate: April 10, 1945

Sibling Information:

Sibling 1: Lucien Charles Taylor

Relation: Biological Brother

Relationship: Nonexistent (Disowned)

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Education: University of Cambridge

Birthdate: June 30, 1970

Sibling 2: Bethany Grace Taylor

Relation: Biological Sister

Relationship: Nonexistent (Disowned)

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Education: University of Bristol

Birthdate: July 20, 1976

Romantic Relationship Information:

Partner's Name: Jia Saanvi Taylor ‘nee Sutar (Deceased)

Partner's Status: Wife

Relationship: Close

Partner's Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Partner's Career: Primary School Music Teacher and Pianist

Partner's Birthdate: February 13, 1975

Child(ren) Information:

Child 1's Name: Johnathan “Johnny” Demarcus Taylor

Child's Relation: Biological Son

Relationship: Close

Child's Pronouns: He/They/His/Theirs

Child's Birthdate: January 29, 2004

Child's Career: Contracted Professional Actor and Singer

Child 2's Name: Nooshy Victor Peart-Taylor

Child's Relation: Adoptive Child

Relationship: Close

Child's Pronouns: She/They/Hers/Theirs

Child's Birthdate: November 3, 2001

Child's Career: Contracted Professional Choreographer Consultant

Assorted Information:

Best Friend(s): Stan Philips (since age 36), Barry Frost (since age 36), and Rosita Peréz-Harrison (since age 47)

Favorite Color(s): Dark Purple and Grey

Favorite Animal(s): Mountain Gorillas and Crows

Favorite Food(s): Glamorgan Sausages, Alu Diye Cholar Dal, and Vegetable Korma

Favorite Sweet(s): Blackcurrant Jaffa Cakes, Murukku, and Paruppu Payasam

Favorite Drink(s): Plain Black Coffee, Masala Soda, and Red Gatorade

Favorite TV Show(s): Top Gear, Chasing Classic Cars, and Wheeler Dealers

Favorite Movie(s): Now You See Me, Baby Driver, and The Glass Onion

Favorite Song(s): Big A Little A by Crass, Oh Bondage! Up Yours! by X-Ray Spex, and Mighty and Superior by Conflict

#sing #sing 2 #sing marcus #sing big daddy #marcus my favourite fictional dad #he loves heist movies to make fun of them #tho both he and johnny love baby driver because johnny relates to it and theres cars #human au #i love the taylor family #they're my babies #marcus absolutely adopted nooshy

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aller-geez · 1 year

Text

Get to know: Connie Anderson

Belongs to @thekinkyleopard

22 // Trans Female She/Her // Pansexual // Russian & Norwegian Snow Leopard Shifter

Full name: Constance Eve Anderson

Nickname: Connie, NiNi & Bunny

Date Of Birth: June 22nd 1998

Big Three: Cancer 🌞, Libra 🌝, Taurus ↗️

(under construction!!!!)

Physical Appearance —

Age: 22 looks 20

Eye Color: Sapphire Blue

Hair Color: White with black tips

Weight: 118lbs

Height: 5’3

Race: Russian & Norwegian

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: she has freckles all over her cheeks and shoulders but no where else. She always has her hair chopped the same way, she also does her own hair cuts. She also always has in double nostril hoops and her Medusa piercing

Personality —

Greatest Strength: Her capacity to love

Greatest Weakness: Not willing to speak up for herself

Soft Spot: Meeko, Biz and Bugs

Mannerisms: She’s extremely quiet and often fidgets with her clothes such as her sleeve ends, skirt or shirt hems. Has a hard time making and maintaining eye contact.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Connie was often scolded for crying or showing any form of emotion while growing up with her adoptive family. After she came out as trans, it was especially hard for her to find her voice, she never had an example of what it meant to stand up for yourself. Due to constant backlash over any time she would defend herself, especially the night she was kicked out of the house, Connie stopped speaking. She has Traumatic Mutism. Later on in her life, finds herself more comfortable speaking with select people. Meeko, her girlfriend later in life, will be the one person she completely drops her guard with.

Growing up away from her siblings, she often found herself outside a lot of the time. Fascinated by bugs! She often collected them in jars, or picked them up to get a better look at them. Connie’s favorite bug is the Lotus Mantis.

Connie is insanely good at painting, but finds a lack of passion within it. She wants to create art that inflicts emotion from herself but always finds herself numb staring at her own works.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Connie has spring time allergies! She’s also allergic to Lavender and Jasmine. Even the lab made scents can send her into a tizzy!

How severe are they?

Pretty severe, she often tries to find anyway to stay inside during the spring unable to get anything productive done if she’s struck with a case of allergies.

Do they get sick often?

She doesn’t get sick often, a lot like her brother she has a pretty good immune system. However, she is partnered with Remi’s sister Meeko, and the apple did not fall far from that tree. So often, she will catch Meeko’s illnesses.

How bad is it usually?

When Connie is sick she’s basically a shell of a person. It’s hard to get her out of bed, or to even eat. She tries her best to just stay under the covers and fight it off with tens and tons of cold meds. She is a certified baby but with a lot less complaints.

Do they stifle?

Connie does stifle, she doesn’t like to alert others that she is coming down with something or is being tormented by her own body. She will try to hide it, but essentially isn’t very good at stifling and it usually blows through anyway.

How loud are their sneezes?

Just like her brother, she’s a very polite sneezer. Due to not having much exercise on her vocals anyway, she is very quiet when she sneezes, they’re more air than sound.

What do they sneeze into?

Connie sneezes into her hand, inner elbow or sometimes uncovered :x

How often do they sneeze?

She doesn’t sneeze very often unless she happens to be in a shopping center. Those places have an ungodly amount of lavender scented things, and it usually costs her in the end.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

She sneezes about 2-3 times in a fit, maybe 4. It varies in severity.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Connie has a slight build up when it comes to her allergies, however, they’re very sudden when exposed to the flowery scents.

Do they sneeze in public?

Connie does sneeze in public because she doesn’t really see the issue with it? She doesn’t like to be OBVIOUS about sneezing in public, but she will if the opportunity presents itself.

Some examples of their sneezes?

ehh’Gxxtchh’iew!!

Hh’gxtch!

hihh’KXXtsh’chhu!

Ngt’chh!

hptt’CH!

GXTtt’chh!

T’Shu~

Hih’cHiew~

H’ Kkissh ~

Eh’CHiew!

Backstory —

Connie was born, Connor Steven Anderson, later changed to Constance Eve Anderson. She doesn’t have much memory before she was taken away from her family at 3, but she remembers loving her mother and siblings very deeply. She also remembers how horribly it felt to be ripped away from them all. Placed into a very strict Asian household, she often felt very insecure and isolated. When her parents realized she was a shifter, they did everything in their power to try and stifle it. They often beat, berated and restricted her for losing control of her shift. The constant abuse being the driving force of her being able to gain control of it. Yet the problems didn’t stop there. Even after isolating herself from her culture, and trying her best to appease her new parents, it all came crashing down when Connie realized she was trans, and came out to them. They kicked her out and called her a disgrace to the family name, that they should have known better when initially adopting her. It left Connie feeling more hollow than she ever had in her life. As she started sleeping on the streets, and exchanging her body for money and substances, Connie met a very kind, elderly homeless veteran, who called himself Pops. She and Pops took care of each other, he treated her like the daughter he never got to have, and she viewed him as the father she never had as well. They bonded together, kept each other right (as right as two homeless addicted people could be) and built their shelters together. One day when Connie was out applying for work, she came back to their camp to find Pops had been mugged and murdered, all their things torn through and the man gasping with his final breaths in her arms. She couldn’t do anything but hold him and cry. After several hours she was approached by a man with bright red hair and facial tattoos, Alistar. The man took pity on her and agreed to help her back on her feet. Though he had alternative motives, he found himself a soft spot for the young shifter girl, and decided she’d suffered enough in this cruel world. Al hooked her up with a studio in downtown New York, he pays the bills for it and provides her an allowance for necessities and other things. Often Al is not with Connie, but provides for her so she can have the room to discover who she is and what she wants to do. Though she is entirely grateful for the strange man, she doesn’t exactly understand why he wants to help her. Eventually, she opens up to him about her family, and he goes on a wild goose chase to reunite them.

Reference Sheet —

(Coming soon..)

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cyarskj1899 · 2 years

Text

Fans of Tory Lanez: Every Black Man Who’s Convicted Is Not Nelson Mandela

The Canadian rapper’s family started a petition that goes after Jay-Z, Roc Nation, the jury and the music industry.

Noah A. McGee

PublishedTuesday 10:20AM

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After years of speculation, and multiple rounds of “he said, she said,” Tory Lanez was finally found guilty of all charges in the 2020 shooting of Megan Thee Stallion just two days before Christmas. But, despite the conviction already being made, Lanez’s family is not giving up on him so easily.

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Shortly after the Canadian rapper was convicted, an online petition called, “Appeal Tory Lanez Verdict Immediately,” appeared on change.org. More than 36,000 people have virtually signed it and the number only continues to increase. The petition attacks everyone from Megan, the jury, the music industry, Roc Nation and even Jay-Z.