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finchly-tintinnabulation · 2 months ago

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- Dignity -

Cato Sicarius x M!Ambassador (Kiran Elander)

Tags: Cato Sicarius Fleas, this shit rated PORN (I promise more plot later), brat taming, praise, fisting, orgasm control

I've gotten the fleas, however I am gay and need to see this man get soft dommed. Heavily inspired by all the x F!Ambassador stuff courtesy of @vyzz-undercover @lemon-russ @moodymisty @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond I blame y'all. Fucking free me. I'm obsessed with both Cato and Kiran now. Thanks to @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta, @cardinalcanis for opening my eyes to big sub marines, and my homies for peer reviewing the sensation of prostate stimulation they will be the death of me

Also @jaghatai-khock u wizard,, how did you know,,

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

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Seeing the cracks finally begin to show as Ambassador Elander rounded on him made Cato Sicarius feel downright giddy, watching the puny man turn on his heel to face him as he stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Diplomacy may not provide such instant gratification compared to your usual cracking skulls and splashing viscera, but you could at least pretend to care.” Elander said icily, his frustration visible just below the surface, pouty lips curled in irritation.

“I am a statesman myself, I simply have a preference for efficiency.” He replied in the airy and detached tone that had finally made headway against the pompous little dignitary, delighting in the mocking imitation of the ambassador’s own placid voice.

Ignoring or retorting Elander’s words hadn’t produced any results, so Sicarius found it downright hysterical that simply belittling him had done the trick after the baseline had so thoroughly gotten under his skin. Theatrically humming and nodding and rephrasing his words for an entire meeting would have been dull if he hadn’t gotten to watch the ambassador’s face turn red, a fitting consequence for how Sicarius felt whilst babysitting him; being unable to be rid of such a thorn in one’s side.

“Of all the childish—“ Forcing a breath through his nose, Elander flexed his fingers in a squeezing motion, as if his pathetically small and soft hands could ever hope to strangle the Knight Champion of Macragge. “You know what? No lunch, go take a shower, meet me in my quarters at 1100.”

No lunch? Sicarius’s expression rapidly soured and he leaned forward to tower imposingly over the dignitary. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast before beginning talks early that morning. “You don’t have the rank to give me orders.”

“It’s not an order.” Elander crossed his arms, his own expression cooling into something Sicarius knew— and absolutely loathed. The bastard must think he’s being clever. “Think of this as an exchange. You have no reason to listen to me; I’ll be giving you one. It’s your choice whether or not to make this more tolerable for both of us.”

“What could you possibly offer me?” The marine scoffed, however his thoughts began to race— without his permission— to things he imagined the ambassador could offer that had been pervading his mind since some little drop of poison had slipped in weeks ago.

Kiran Elander had been an inescapable presence since swearing fealty to Roboute Guilliman and subsequently joining the fold of the Ultramarines, when he should have been indistinguishable from every other serf scurrying underfoot.

The scribes had plenty of reason to be in and out of his Primarch’s office, unobtrusively running papers and scribbling down his dictations, which made Elander’s insistence on banal chattering disruptive on its own. A mere baseline being conversational with his genesire was bound to raise Sicarius’s hackles, an audacity that grated fiercely at his nerves when his time standing guard was otherwise a reprieve.

That talkative attitude extended to every single person he interacted with, serf and Astartes alike, which provided plenty of evidence towards Sicarius’s theory of what a little fraud Elander was. That calm, airy politeness he practiced, the flattery and the warm inviting expressions. Soothing but utterly empty. He’d seen the sharpness through the new drapings of Ultramarine blue and gold, the biting and calculating words he dished out where his Primarch didn’t hear.

But that wasn’t enough, the wretch had also insisted on talking to him, calling out with a pithy little greeting every time he waltzed through the office’s doorway. Feeding him those plastic smiles, asking him useless questions and having the gall to look amused when he failed to sink his hooks into him, trying to lure him into a chat.

How are you doing today, lord angel?

Lovely planet to be deployed to my lord, what do you think?

Care for a mint, Commander Sicarius?

By the Throne, the accursed mints were a whole other problem. Without fail there was always a tin of mints in his pocket, and always one in his sharp little mouth. His jaw was always working as if he was thinking of the next thing to say, pensively sucking on it in a way Sicarius found infuriating, that deft serpent’s tongue rolling it between his teeth and neatly moving it out of the way when he needed to speak.

The scent of menthol followed Elander everywhere, announcing his presence even before he was seen, accompanied by the equally bright and pungent citrus tang of his awfully sweet cologne. Maybe that was where the problems started, sparking some strange urge to grab the ambassador by the scruff of the neck and breathe him in to find out if there was a real man underneath that sugary veneer.

It wouldn’t be difficult, the ambassador looked as though he had never so much as touched a weapon in his life, picking him up would be as easy to Sicarius as grabbing a tissue. Elander was short even for a baseline male, with long legged and slim gangly proportions, favoring dark tailored waistcoats that gave the illusion that Sicarius could wrap his fingers around his slender frail waist with one hand. Speaking of, the Ambassador’s hands matched the rest of him, delicate and small and soft.

Sicarius had never met a man of Elander’s station who appeared so utterly useless in combat. The dusty waves of his hair were so pale as to be almost white, so fair that it seemed they would stain with a touch. A porcelain face pockmarked by moles, split wide by frequent smiles that ruined the illusion of doll-like pink lips. He should be stuffed up on a shelf like one and left to gather cobwebs, to be some pretty ostentatious thing to be admired glanced over, rather than taking up so much space for something so insignificant.

Cato Sicarius had never considered anyone pretty. Let alone a man, let alone a baseline… and he was certainly not going to start with Kiran Elander. The weasley little whoreson.

Yet somewhere between his arrival and now, the bastard had gotten into his head. Those disgusting little lips and tongue were always moving, distracting from whatever it was Elander had elected to drone on about, and now even in his absence Sicarius could imagine them, lurid and pink in his mind. Maybe they were warm… but they were just as likely to be cold and hard like plasteel. Fake. He could picture gripping Elander’s face so hard he shattered in his hands. Throne, if Sicarius wanted to, he could ruin him.

So why was he doing as he asked?

The shower was an exercise in frustration, as none of the amenities in his accommodations were sized for an Astartes. Such a backwater planet was only being returned to the Imperium due to the presence of humans, of course they’d never been graced by the likes of the Ultramarines before. Elander’s presence is merely to not waste ammunition. Still, Sicarius was forced to maneuver his body under the spray much to his chagrin, cursing under his breath every time he headbutted the showerhead or bumped his elbows against the tiled walls.

The frustration had to be why his hearts’ rate was so elevated as he aggressively scrubbed himself down, then toweling dry just as mercilessly until his skin prickled. Frustrated with the fact his curiosity was winning over his indignance as he pulled on a set of fatigues in favor of his itchy dress uniform and set off towards the ambassador’s room in long strides.

Elander didn’t deserve the courtesy of knocking, so Sicarius simply let himself in, growing irritated when he was met with the smell of menthol and saw that the dignitary had been waiting for him. His jacket and waistcoat had been hung over the back of a chair, with Elander lounging sidelong in it, his legs draped over the arm.

“Thank you for joining me, Commander Sicarius. Are you ready to hear my rules?” Sliding out of the chair, the ambassador smiled as he slinked unhurriedly across the room. All of his finery had been shed, leaving Elander in a plain dark blue dress shirt and slacks, the only adornment left being a thin black bracelet.

“The rules of what? Some sort of game?” Sicarius scoffed as he closed the door behind him, cocking his head to look down at the man.

“If it would please your immature attention span, you may think of this as a game.” Hand planted on his hip, the ambassador evenly met Sicarius’s critical glare, expression so placid as to seem bored.

The Ultramarine growled. “You would do well not to mock me.”

“Your cooperation would be appreciated. I have no need to insult you otherwise. Now, are you ready to hear my rules?”

“Concisely, yes.”

“The goal of this exercise is to test your patience, as I want to see you wait to be rewarded. For the duration, I ask for you to follow my instructions and nothing more.” Elander sighed and tucked an errant strand of cream colored hair behind his ear. “If you disobey, I stop. If you don’t want to finish this exercise, you need only say the word.”

“I assume failure to complete this exercise would mean forfeiting the reward?” Sicarius inferred, searching Elander’s honeyed hazel eyes ringed with grey, probing for any signs of deception.

“Correct.”

“I’ll ask you again, what sort of reward could you possibly offer me.”

The ambassador appeared thoughtful, likely because the crafty little bastard was thinking of a way to sound more enticing. Pursing plush lips, he started to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing surprisingly shapely forearms— perhaps he had the ability to pick up more than just a measly stack of paperwork.

“Some playtime with your pleasure receptors.” Elander neatly cuffed his sleeves just above his elbows. “Please remove your clothing and be seated on the bed.”

Sicarius barked out a hysterical laugh, head spinning. This was far more bizarre than any feverish Warp-damned dream his subconscious could cook up. “You’re a whore.” He spat out the accusation before his silence and racing thoughts would betray him.

Merely frowning slightly, Elander raised a brow. “Are you implying that I’m tempting you, Commander Sicarius? Because a whore takes payment for someone’s desire for them, I merely have skills to use for your benefit.”

“Of course not.” Sicarius hissed. Tempting? He, Cato Sicarius, was not a victim of temptation. There was no attraction involved. That explanation was easier than whatever justifications and explanations his mind was scrambling for, and that was good enough.

“Good.“ Elander flashed that inviting conniving smile. “Now, if you’re ready to continue, I recall giving you instructions.”

Removing his fatigues merely required efficiency, but Sicarius felt oddly conscious of how quickly he undressed. Speed could imply anxiety or eagerness, and of course neither of those was the case. However taking his time would be putting on a show for the little slut, a thought that sent a shiver down his spine. Just his spine, certainly nowhere else. There was absolutely nothing exciting about this situation.

There was nothing vulnerable about stripping himself bare in front of Elander, because of course nakedness amongst his battle-brothers was nothing but mundane, and that wouldn’t change in front of a baseline so undeserving of his glory. Surely it should feel the same.

“A beard like yours but no body hair? What a shame.” The ambassador interjected with that grating tone of faux-innocence and curiosity. Sicarius was extremely aware he was being watched as he discarded his fatigues in a pile on the floor.

“Depilatory treatment is standard for the use of a body-glove.” With a grunt he sat heavily on the bed, the springs creaking as he settled on the edge, lounging back on his elbows with knees parted to take up as much space as possible and present an intimidating view. It seemed to be working as the expression on Elander’s face was nothing short of admiring as he moved to stand in front of him.

“Someone’s showing off.” A grin crept across his face and Sicarius let out an indignant growl.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was no reason to prove anything so obvious as size to such a puny baseline, Cato Sicarius knew he was impressive, and naturally Elander would too.

“It’s okay to be proud.” As if Sicarius needed his permission. He suppressed a shiver of surprise disgust as Elander’s fingertips alighted on his thighs, so delicate it was like the brush of a feather as they trailed over two pairs of neural ports and down to his kneecaps, pale eyes soft with appreciation. “Such a lovely specimen.”

Whether it was the words or those delicate fingertips suddenly slipping under his shaft, Cato felt his cock twitch, reeling as his thighs shuddered of their own volition. Elander’s hand tightened on his knee, as if to remind him of his presence positioned between his legs. How could he forget?

“You will be still.” The ambassador murmured gently, almost crooning. “Wouldn’t want to explain how I was injured if you couldn’t keep control of yourself. You can be patient for me, right?”

Sicarius grunted and nodded once, not trusting himself to open his mouth and hear his own compliance from it. No, he was merely tolerating this. Not an order, an exchange.

“Very good.” Another traitorous twitch. “Tilt your hips up, please.”

Lifting his pelvis as Elander had suggested, Cato closed his eyes. There was no need to complicate spoil this experience with a view of the bastard ambassador’s face, this was merely a service he could do with his own hand, and certainly didn’t require Elander to be involved.

Yet his hand couldn’t compare to the sensation of those ministrations. Where his were callused, the fingers wrapped sinfully around his cock slid like velvet, soft and warm and precise. They seemed to know his body in a way he didn’t know himself, dexterously squeezing and fondling until Cato began to sigh, his hesitation drowned in new and pleasurable experience. Tension bled from his muscles, relaxing back onto the mattress with a relief he didn’t know he needed.

Then something hot and wet made contact with his glands and those fingertips slid down to uncharted territory and his hips bucked in surprise. Cato’s eyes flew open, feeling cold as those warm touches suddenly withdrew.

“Be still.” The ambassador murmured a patient reminder, one hand resting on Cato’s thigh as the other reached into the pocket of his slacks. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“Are you going to continue?” Despite knowing the rules, he couldn’t help but feel ornery. How dare this feel good? How dare he stop?

“If you can behave. I know you can, you can be a good boy for me.” Okay, the praise was definitely doing something— some sorcery to him, making a heat pool in his gut, a weakness that had gone previously unexploited. This wasn’t the pride he felt after a glorious victory, it was a syrupy sort of exhilaration that he wasn’t quite ready to interrogate.

Especially not when Elander’s next move had him transfixed. Gripping the shaft, he tapped the head of Cato’s cock against his pillowy lips, holding eye contact as his perfect sinful pink mouth swallowed his glans in one go. That mouth had haunted his mind, but only now did it occur to him why. He didn’t go down far, especially with the way those plush lips stretched around the girth of an Astartes, but that hardly mattered when his tongue was doing all the work.

Swirling around the head in teasing circles, playing with the slit, a bouquet of new experiences dragged a helpless groan out of him. Still stroking Cato’s length, there was a massaging pressure at his perineum, gentle circles slowly migrating down.

“The hell are you doing with my ass?” He grunted, but surprised himself by remaining still as velvety fingertips traced around the hole.

“No hope of finding your head if it’s too far up there.” Elander muttered sarcastically, Cato’s cock resting against his cheek as he fiddled with the thing from his pocket, accompanied by the quiet pop of a bottle opening. “This will feel a bit strange, but if you’re patient I promise it’ll feel good. Pull your legs up, that angle should be more pleasant for you.”

“Fuck you.” Gritting his teeth as he did as he was told, Cato craned his head up as if he could possibly see what Kiran was doing between his legs.

“Patience. This will be cold.” Despite the warning, the sensation of a gelled finger rubbing against the pucker of his asshole made Cato flinch, growling low in his chest.

It was definitely strange. He had certainly been examined before, every last inch of him observed and tested, and that was not the way Kiran touched him. Slow and incremental was his work, first massaging the outer ring of muscle with slick fingers slowly warming the lubrication, the pressure of his circular strokes beginning to dip inside.

That foreign sensation was accompanied by more attention to his cock, mouth now beginning to roam its length as Kiran licked stripes up the shaft, and Cato fought between keeping his eyes on the other and letting his hand sink back onto the bed. He was painfully hard, there was so much more he wanted before he was satisfied, and it was ecstasy. Patience didn’t seem like a chore to appease Kiran anymore… it was becoming very appealing. Cato didn’t even mind when the first finger sank into his hole.

Pain was negligible to an Astartes, but the only thing Cato could think of to describe the feeling of being stretched was an ache, the push of tight muscles initially unwilling to yield. Some vague sort of discomfort, and yet even that was pleasurable, enhanced by whatever witchcraft Kiran was doing with his tongue.

“Do you want me to keep going?” The fair haired man asked softly as the intrusion of his finger rocked in and out, to which Cato groaned. “Yes or no.”

A tremor shook his thighs as he felt his muscles unspooling, from his hips downward. “Don’t fucking stop…”

“I said, yes or no.” Cato whined vocalized his displeasure as Kiran’s fingers withdrew again. This pathetic little baseline knew things about his body he had yet to discover for himself, attempting to play him like a fiddle.

Cato was letting him.

“…Yes.”

The approving look Kiran gave him was sin, a warm rush of achievement and pride low in his gut, right where his nerves had been sparking at his touch. To Cato’s confusion he unfastened the bracelet around his wrist with some invisible attachment, then deftly wrapped its soft thin silicone around the base of his cock, where it easily snapped into place. The thought that Kiran’s wrist was comparable thickness to his shaft made Cato dizzy, made his mind flounder at thoughts of holding them for a moment before being brought back to attention.

“So good for me, thank you for using your words. Remember, you’re being patient, and you’ve done such a wonderful job at it so far.” Kiran palmed at the tip, spreading the transparent fluid that had begun dripping from it like another lubricant, his touch somehow even more silky and warm.

Two fingers this time, pressing and prodding and stretching. An Astartes could withstand any temperature, and yet Cato felt himself growing hot. An Astartes never tired, and yet his breaths were rapid, his two hearts quickening. A scissoring motion of Kiran’s fingers made that pleasurable ache grow, a feeling of fullness he wanted to chase as they crooked inside him.

“You crave approval, don’t you? Such a beautifully honed weapon, singing to be used for the glory of battle.” Three fingers, pushing, pistoning. “But there’s an easier way to feel that good, to know that you’re doing what you’re supposed to. So good. So natural.”

Cato couldn’t help it as a wanton moan slipped through his teeth, his head falling back onto the bed, just listening and feeling. An Astartes’s duty was service to the Imperium, and yet this new idea of service…

“It’s a shame for such a lovely weapon to be unused, a blade left unpolished… let yourself be used and adored.” Four fingers, now? It was hard to tell, the slender intrusion was sliding so easily. “You don’t even have to do anything, simply experience your purpose of serving mankind and enjoy it.”

Cato Sicarius had never considered submission to be an option. Defeating an opponent in debate or combat brought the joy of triumph, the glory of Ultramar at his heels. There was something perverse in those feelings coming so easily, through… obedience. It was perverse and it felt wonderful, and so very easy. Obeying and being rewarded and feeling so full as Kiran’s fingers sank into his hole, faintly aware of the obscene sound of his whole hand—

“Good boy.” There was barely enough time for Cato to process the fact that Kiran was wrist deep in him before he was seeing stars, hot sparks coursing up his spine, turning his thoughts to static.

The feeling didn’t let up, repeatedly pressing that spot inside him, the sensation of fullness and pressure building in his gut. Pistoning in and out at a relentless pace as his legs began to shake, eyes rolling as his mouth fell open, dignity forgotten as each thrust drove into him and drew a torrent of gasps and moans from his lips.

“Fu-uck, Kiran—”

“You’re doing so well, sweet thing.” Kiran cooed over the wet and lecherous sound of his ministrations against Cato’s body. “You may move now. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

He needn’t speak twice. Heels barely kept purchase against the sheets, his hips bucked, and a vicious new rhythm formed. Every time Cato rocked back Kiran’s fingers rammed against his prostate, and thrusting forward had him rubbed up against his palm in exquisite torture, the barest shift making his head spin with pleasure. There was nowhere to move to escape those hands, and it was making him more and more desperate.

Pressure built, his cock red hot even as something felt stoppered at the base— where Kiran had placed the bracelet. He needed something, and he could barely comprehend what it was, only that denying it felt like dying.

“Ah—! Please…” Cato gasped, hips stuttering as he couldn’t decide whether to try and escape the sensation or seek more and more and more.

“Asking nicely, Cato? Do you want to cum?” That was it. He wanted to cum, he needed to, he couldn’t care less about the insubordination from Kiran or the begging he was about to do.

“Mnh… ah, please let me—!” His breath hitched like he was trying to come up for air, like swimming in the seas of his youth, desperate to surface. “I need to cum! Ple—ease…”

“Well, since you asked so nicely. Cum for me.”

Fingers slipped around the base of his cock and in a moment Cato’s world exploded. Release rocked his nerves as his hips snapped up, something white hot and molten coursed through his cock, feeling Kiran stroking him through it as everything else dissolved around him.

His mind was warm, pleasant fuzz, tensed muscles melting and loosening as his orgasm steadily ebbed, laying flat against the bed. The room came back to him slowly, the savory scent of sweat and his own spend registering before he finally opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him was one that had appeared in dreams he had tried to forget, but was now burning itself into his mind’s eye. Kiran Elander, covered in thick strings of cum, opaque strands in his face and hair, ruining the fine dark blue fabric of his dress shirt. The ambassador’s hazel eyes shone with affection and pride as he wrapped his bracelet back around his wrist, taking a fistful of the sheets to gently press it against Cato’s slicked asshole and wipe away some of the lubrication.

“Was that enough of a reward for you?” Elander looked… smug. Sicarius felt furious.

How dare this useless little baseline think he had any power over him? What sort of games was he playing to think he could get Cato Sicarius to submit to his whims? He could break him.

With superhuman speed he had Elander by the collar, dragging him to the mattress to pin him there, growling under his breath and trapping the little ambassador’s arms by his sides.

Elander should have been fearful, he should be groveling for his life. Instead, after his eyebrows raised in muted surprise, he appeared to simply go numb. Body limp, face blank, staring owlishly into Sicarius’s eyes. It was like he was playing dead, but there was an air of… disappointment in his gaze. Despite everything, it made him feel nauseous and leaden. Not afraid, disappointed. As if he had expected it.

His heart certainly didn’t squeeze at the thought that Kiran had praised him so warmly, only to expect Cato to disappoint him.

Slowly, Sicarius lowered himself to lay on Elander, slipping his thick arms around that trim waist, and after a moment of hesitation began to clean him in turn. He lapped the drips of seed from Elander’s skin, letting his breathing slow as he licked his porcelain-smooth brow. For a moment the ambassador lay stock still beneath him, but ever so minutely Sicarius felt him relax, slim fingers slipping into his hair.

“...You were so good.” Elander murmured, and Sicarius realized he could scent beneath the menthol and perfume. The delicate natural warmth of skin, soft flesh and clean sheets and sweat. He was real.

#warhammer 40k #fanfic #my writing #ultramarines #cato sicarius #oc x canon #m!oc #cato sicarius x oc #kiran #space marine x oc #ultramarine x oc #nsft

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thekristen999 · 3 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

Still plugging along on my mythical bakery AU and making decent headway. Previous snippets here.

Sometimes when Eddie woke up, the darkness that had stalked him for half his life still hung around, trying to take over again. But he had skills now, and a job he loved, one that brought him joy and energy.

It wasn’t a surprise to find Buck, Hen, and Chim discussing the newest recipe for attracting their most sought out guest. Well, Eddie’s most sought out guest.

All three stood in front of the main baking station surrounded by various mixing bowls, ingredients and various flowers.

"Um, guys?" he asked.

Buck waved Eddie over. "We’re trying a few new recipes for your quest."

Eddie tried not to grimace at his choice of words, knowing the four of them were now equally invested in the endeavor.

Chim studied the arrays of apples, berries and rose pedals. "We should use more vibrant and colorful flowers. Whimsical is attracted to whimsical."

"Roses, lavender, and foxgloves, are colorful the last time I checked," Hen reminded him.

Buck shook his head. "If you’re trying to make nectar, you need to wait until I’m done with my harvest."

Buck had been trying to collect the right number of dewdrops, using the Eucalyptus they started growing in the back of the bakery, but the weather hadn’t been cooperating with them.

"Okay, let’s review," Chim said to the group. "We’re talking about unicorns, right? They don’t eat human food. They’re too pure."

Trying to find a unicorn had become a quest, a need of Eddie’s. His knowledge about them was a little concerning.

Their diets were as mystical as the creatures themselves. According to myths, they loved dewdrops from the morning grass or the petals of wildflowers, their ethereal diet contributing to their magical abilities.

"Unicorns feed on the enchanted energy of nature itself," Eddie told them.

"Exactly," Buck said. His brow furrowed in thought. "But we don’t practice magic, and we can’t enter the magical realm." He frowned. "Which means we don’t have the ability to make what they prefer to eat."

tagging a few people who might enjoy or want to share.

@mellaithwen @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks

@dangerpronebuddie @tizniz @fleurdebeton @misshiss727

@diazsdimples @andavs @homerforsure @steadfastsaturnsrings

@ci5mates @thebestbooksaround @diazheartsbuckley

@buffaluff

#The Sweet Spot #mywips #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #kristen999writes

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nerdieforpedro · 8 months ago

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Those Damn Hot Dogs

Chapter One of Therapy for the Well-Adjusted

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: 1859

Warnings: Nerdie doesn’t know how the FBI works (despite watching all the crimes procedurals), one gun shot, insulting hot dogs 🌭, random book reference, a wee bit of blood, yelling & cursing

Summary: Marcus Pike was mandated to go to therapy. His journey there was very bumpy. We meet Dr. Mint and Vernon! (both OFCs)

Notes: I started this because I wanted Marcus to be a bit unhinged. Like why not? 😀

But also because I’ve had some bad experiences with therapy and some very positive ones.

Plus I enjoyed the doctor’s names way too much. I’m on my mess with puns. 😉

If you feel you need therapy or counseling, you should research the best cost effective options for you and make sure that your therapist is someone you feel comfortable with. Vibes are important in this case.

Main Masterlist/ Marcus Pike Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Marcus is talking with his therapist, Dr. Mint. He never thought he would need to see one. Not that people don’t need to see them or take their mental health seriously, they should and he does. He has to. He’s an FBI agent. Although he is in art crimes, there’s still quite a bit of shady characters, deals and crazy crap that people will do to have their art or hide how they got it.

The journey to Dr. Mint took Marcus two months from the incident to now.

The incident in question was something he never expected. Marcus Pike prided himself on being able to roll with life's punches, no matter how gut-wrenching they might be. Prior to ‘the incident’ his team were investigating possible pieces of art that were thought to have been smuggled into the country. Supposedly from California over to the East Coast. That should have been his first clue, the mention of that state. He was briefed about two consultants coming to assist since they had dealings and information of the particular ring of smugglers.

Patrick Jane and his wife Teresa Jane.

The amount of time Marcus had put into this case had been the last few months. Tracking leads, making connections, reviewing financials, flights, etc. He implored his superiors that they didn’t need their help. They’re making headway toward busting these guys without these two, especially one of them’s penchant for causing property damage and being a PR nightmare. The higher ups said that his team had enough time to find these guys and they haven’t so this case needs to be closed now. Pike didn’t understand the urgency, these were typical smugglers, not traffickers or people or drugs, but he had to back down. He would take many deep breaths and interact with them as little as possible.

Of course Patrick Jane asked to be on my team. The vest wearing, tired brown shoes having hot dog water looking bastard.

Agent Pike knew he’d have to grin and bear it. He’s a professional and a special agent. Unlike this prick, he can’t just do as he pleases. There are rules, regulations and he would like to stay gainfully employed at a job he loves. Patrick Jane nor his hot dog water loving wife Teresa will make him lose it.

The first two weeks went fine. Limited interaction, and all about the case. The third week was when they finally caught the smugglers at their warehouse. A mix of Marcus pulling up prior maps of an area outside of DC on the outskirts of the state of Virginia and Patrick seeing a pattern in pieces they were taking. The bust was running smoothly, all of them were caught except one. Marcus was chasing him and the idiot ‘not an actual agent’ Patrick decided he was somehow going to help chase the perp as well in those slippery ugly brown shoes.

It was his own fault.

Not Pike’s. He called in that he saw the suspect, let them know he was in pursuit and was chasing them. It was Jane that called himself trying to be some action hero popping out from a nearby alley to chase the same perp. Pike yelled at him to move, Patrick chose not to listen. His ass paid the price. Literally.

Some might have thought Marcus did it on purpose, especially if they knew the extremely sorted history between Patrick, Teresa and Marcus, but he truly did not. The suspect had pulled a gun and was trying to shoot Marcus, he dodged and shot the perp in the calf, disabling him enough for Pike to run over and clap cuffs on him. He then called for an ambulance.

Pike heard Patrick cursing as he was laying on the ground. Marcus thought maybe he just fell, but there was blood, not from the suspect. Jane was bleeding from his ass, the bullet had grazed him before hitting the suspect. Before Marcus could hold it in, and remain professional he laughed. Not a chuckle or snicker but a full, down on both knees next to the perp laugh. Which made the smuggler laugh as well. Teresa and the other agents made their way over and wondered what an agent and criminal could find so funny. Mrs. Hot Dog became hysterical that Patrick was bleeding so of course he leaned into it, shaking where he hadn’t been before.

Marcus and the suspect watched and looked at each other, “That’s some bullshit my guy.” Pike agreed. Standing up holding the suspect in front of him, he took him over to be booked and processed.

Patrick was taking his sweet time getting off the ground and Teresa was beginning to yell at Marcus, telling him that she’d have his badge for harming her Patrick.

Marcus Pike had enough. He requested to not have them in this case, asked to be reassigned, and has kept interactions to a minimum. He didn’t ask Patrick to chase a suspect. He’s a consultant. He’s not supposed to be doing it anyway!

Uncharacteristically, Marcus yelled and told Teresa to “keep her hot dog water looking man out of the way of FBI business. Had he not been here, the suspect wouldn’t have shot him. Jane needs to stay in his lane and keep all his hot dog foolishness over there.” Teresa was going to say something else, “You don’t say shit to me. You left me then, how am I supposed to know you’re going to do your damn job in the field if you didn’t even have the backbone to tell me no face to face or over the phone. You didn’t ask what actually happened! Put a bun on him to soak up his blood and hot dog water.”

Everyone was silent, even Jane.

No one expected Marcus to say anything, let alone admonishing Patrick and Teresa’s behavior. Everyone knew it was a lot but Pike had been a consummate professional during their entire time here.

Teresa was mortified and started to cry. Jane finally got up and limped over to the supervising agent who just told him to go over to the ambulance to get checked out.

No one directly addressed it, not until the Jane’s were gone and they threw a party. Marcus was invited but he declined. He’d been put out on administrative leave and was at home tuning his bass guitar. Wondering about what they said. They suggested he take some time off, cool his head and could come back after some counseling session.

Marcus had tried to go to the FBI one but it ended on a weird note. The initial meeting went well, but the small older woman asked for a hug. She said that Marcus resembled her former husband. He politely declined and told his supervisors that it wasn’t going to work with the FBI’s counselor.

Pike now had two weeks to find one he could see and clear him. His colleague Mark, suggested one that had helped him and his wife during a rough period in their marriage:

Dr. Mint of “Mint and Julep Counseling: Helping therapy go down smooth.”

The name and the tagline made Marcus chuckle and highly suspicious so he researched them, Mark vouched for the group of counselors and doctors. It’s worth a try. It had to be better than the last one.

Marcus wore his red flannel shirt, open exposing his white t-shirt underneath. Rubbing his hands on his dark wash jeans, getting the sweat off them, he opened the glass door leading into the reception area. The colors were neutral: white, tan, gold and gray. There was a friendly older gentleman at the desk who wore and striking green sweater and had bi-focals, peering at Marcus upward, maybe trying to look through the upper half of the glasses.

“Good afternoon sir, here for an appointment?”

“Yes I am. New patient for Dr. Mint. Marcus Pike. Nice to meet you sir.”

“Oh! You’re early, that’s nice. Wait there. Did you want some water? I’ll let them know you’re here. Should be finishing up with the previous patient shortly.” The gentleman informed him and Marcus took a seat on one of the black leather chairs.

He waited about ten minutes, he’d been fifteen minutes early. It was easier to find than he thought and it was in a stand alone building rather than in a strip mall. It was near a Panera and a Dunkin’s so Marcus had some landmarks for it.

Dr. Mint has sepia bangs which seems to be their natural hair color. The rest of their hair is cut close and is dyed a deep plum color. Normally Marcus might have taken a pause given that they’re also wearing a cream sweater that looks one size too big for them with black slacks and loafers, but they shake his hand and have a strong grip. Pike respects this and follows the good doctor to his office. The agent figures it can’t be worse than the last therapist. Dr. Mint is a few inches taller than Marcus but thin, willowy he might say. Something about him invokes trust, could be their sharp jaw and or that once they sit and Marcus begins talking about what happened with the two hot dogs, he sees something in their dark brown eyes that he didn’t with the other therapists. Dr. Mint didn’t think he’d lost his mind.

Pike’s luck has finally changed.

The doctor thanked Marcus for coming to see them and hoped that he would make a future appointment. They also stated that given the pressure he was under and the specific circumstances, they weren’t sure there was a right way to approach the situation.

“I mean, it is kinda funny. If you think about it, Dr. Mint.” Marcus departs their office and makes an appointment for later in the week with Vernon, the front desk gentleman. On his way out, he held the door for a woman in a cobalt dress, she thanked him and smiled. Pike felt his eyes linger on her for a few moments as she went to the desk and checked in with Vernon too. She sat down, crossing her legs at her ankles after setting her black tote back in a chair next to her. She was on her phone for a few and then pulled her bag into her lap, making herself smaller despite the waiting room being empty save for the man behind the desk.

Marcus wondered what brought her to this place, it could be anything. Her blue dress stuck out in his mind and he remembered there was a book about a woman in a blue dress, what was it called? He stopped to grab a salad and soup from Panera before heading home.

“Wait…” Marcus pulled into his parking space outside of his apartment building. “Devil in the blue dress, I think it’s by Walter Mosley. Wasn’t that a movie too? Maybe I should watch it tonight.” As tonight’s feature was decided, he set about trying to find which streaming service it would be on.

Marcus felt he made a good choice today.

Hot dog haters 🌭: @megamindsecretlair @jessthebaker @avastrasposts @jeewrites @josephquinnswhore

@bishtrouille @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @morallyinept @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @rosecentaur1916 @rulexofxnines @inept-the-magnificent

Chapter Two

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike x plus size reader #Marcus pike x plus size ofc #therapy for the well-adjusted #a Nerdie series

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ordinaryschmuck · 9 days ago

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Good things that happened today:

Watched a great episode of The Punisher today. Love moments that just treats Frank like an asshole. Him duct taping Rachel's mouth without any hesitation the second she started annoying him is the best.

Wrote a timeline of the tragic past of my favorite OC...I put her through the horrors, but I love her all the same.

Got through the whole day of work this time. Yay.

Found out that Dana Terrace is making her first indie project and it already looks intensely amazing. I cannot WAIT to see it.

The full Reagent Street scene from Better Man released and it all looks AMAZING.

I finished talking about one thing for The Owl House and made good headway in talking about another. I also realized I DON'T have to talk about how happy I am that the show has a Happy ending and the nitpicks I have about the timeskip, as I've said all I really needed to in previous posts and reviews. Not really breaking any ground, so I just have ONE LAST THING to talk about The Owl House before never talking about it again...That feels sad.

Good things about me:

I have decent morals.

I'm nice when I need to be.

I'm getting slightly better at controlling myself.

I have fun when I need to.

I'm smart

#good things

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danpuff-ao3 · 26 days ago

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2024 in review - recs & fics & more

Thanks for the tag @sitp-recs!

I started the year strong with a few rec lists, though I didn't do nearly as many as I have in years past. Still, I made 2 Snarry rec lists (Jealous Snape & Bottom Snape) and one non-snarry list (Valentine's themed).

Okay maybe I lied in that last one because I did have 2 big rec projects for this year: fest themed rec lists. I made a Top 5 list for every year of Snarry-a-Thon and Snarry AUctober Fest. I plan to add to them each year, and I'd also like to make similar lists for other fests, but we shall see!

I finally finished and posted Good Daddy, an addition to the Yes, Daddy series I've been talking about for years. (In fact my first podcast interview was with Snape Chat back in July 2021 and I'm pretty sure I mentioned it at the end of that episode...yikes!)

I continued my tradition of once a year posting on smile with sweet surprise, and one of the chapters I've been most excited for. Which means I get to wrap up the fic for good in 2025!

I ran HP Chan Fest again this year, and even participated with a fic called The Forbidden Fruit (part of the same 'verse as the prior year's The Virgin Bride).

Continued posting on 2 WIPs: Wasted for Love and Sugar, Honey.

I took a fandom break over summer which was helpful, and probably something I'll need to do in the future, as well. I hid all of my works and stepped away from socials. I get so in my head sometimes, and question my place in fandom, so it helps to take a breather and give myself some grace.

I ventured into the world of Snarriet, with help from my dear friend @loneamaryllis and her rec lists. I've inhaled a ton of @spicedlantern's fics because of it. This new step has given me a greater appreciation for my OTP in ways I didn't think possible, and now I have so many extra feelings about Snarry as a whole.

Because of my new love of Snarriet, I played around more with genderbending in my own writing. I wrote my own Snarriet fic called The Whispers in Your Eyes (which I love and am super proud of), a current Snarriet WIP called Hopes of the Heart (which I'm excited to continue next year), a fem!Snape fic called The First Date (which was a lot of fun and I really need to find more fem!Snape fics out there...)

PLUS a femslash Snarry fic (which I first did years ago with Take Heed, Dear Heart) called She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not for Snarry AUctober Fest. I've so wanted to participate in AUctober Fest for a while, so it's funny that when I finally did it was pretty much on a whim last minute.

(Funny story, the fic was inspired by an episode of Worst Roommate Ever and my muse took OVER) (In the episode, this lady was slowly poisoned and made sick by her so-called BFF, which inspired the "what if people were made sick by Hanahaki?)

(Oh also I edited Take Heed, Dear Heart to change Harry's name from Holly to Harriet, to fit my current preferences). (I think I also changed Hermione's name from Hercule to Herman?) (Not that anyone cares but still.)

I finished another fic that's been knocking around in my head for years: The Enemy's Bed. I've had the opening few paragraphs done for a while, but I was only able to finally make headway this year for Kinktober.

Speaking of, I also finished 2 other fics that I've had in mind for a while, these 2 part of the Love, Your Enemy series (also affectionately known as Contempt-verse). The first was Spellbound, which takes place in the immediate aftermath of Contempt. The other is Snowfall, a Christmas ficlet (first envisioned last year when I wrote the Valentine's Day ficlet, Lovestruck).

I've also been running @hprecfest with dear @coconutice22 and even participating in it myself here.

Fandom aside, I've also made strides in my personal life, between getting my home in order and also taking care of my health. I took a 2 week break from work, which was much needed. And I'll continue to prioritize myself and my wellbeing into the new year. With luck, that will benefit my fandom life, but if not...at least I'll be focused on what matters most.

Oh also I've been reading actual books for the first time in a while this year. I started off with some trashy romantacy books (which I love and are great), and now am in the middle of the Super Powereds books (for anyone interested).

Tagging whoever wants to play!

#year in review #2024 in review #danpuff 2024

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blazingstaro · 22 days ago

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Big changes on the horizon! DotS updates and more!

Happy New Year!! With a new year in front of us, there's new opportunities awaiting us all! This year I've decided to finally go for it, and chase a dream I've been running away from for years!

I'm finally going to launch a YouTube channel sometime this year alongside dusting off my poor old Twitch account! Right now I've got a lot to prep, but this is something I've been wanting to do for a very long time, and never thought myself prepared or good enough for it. Well, last year was all about taking big leaps and just gunning for it, so that's exactly what I'm doing

The channel will (unsurprisingly) be about games, and bringing a new method of reviewing games based on multiple factors. Throughout the next few months, I'll actually be reaching out to gaming communities and asking you all various questions to help me identify different types of gamers! I'm creating a gamer spectrum and multiple profiles to help gamers find their matches.

No more confusing numbers and biased reviews! Finally asking the most important question at the core of every game: is it fun? Visuals, style, narrative (or the lack there of) can be easily cast aside if the core of the game is just fun! That's what a game should always be at base 💖

It's a huge ambition, aiming to shake up the reviewing world, but it's something I'm passionate about! I hope it'll take off, and inspire more people to give the system a shot. I don't plan to do it forever, and eventually move on to new things or just focusing on let's-plays (which I intend to do in addition to reviews, clips from Twitch streams and the like).

This is basically gonna be my day job that I'll juggle alongside my comic, and since I won't be under time constraints or physically exhausted, it shouldn't affect my comic any!

So how's DotS:MMM going to look like going forward?

My posting schedule for DotS:MMM is going to likely be 1 page a month for the time being until I can really make headway on pages! Frankly I've been stuck on one page in particular, since I've needed to remake it entirely, and it's been bugging me for months. I believe I've gotten something down finally, so with the Holidays finally behind us, I should finally have a bit more time to work on pages. My mobile tablet setup helps so much with my art away from my computer!!

My drawing energy has been really low in past months since it was so busy, but I'm getting the itch again as I'm shaking off the holiday glaze! You guys will know I'm back in action when a page suddenly appears, hehehee!

In conclusion—

The comic won't stop anytime soon, just pages are gonna be slow for a while! I have loads of graphics to make for my new channel, and I'm also making a Live2D model to accompany. My reasons for this is simply that I don't like putting my real face on the internet, and prefer my privacy, so I'm creating a cartoon avatar that represents me— much like Saberspark has, with still images in various poses, and of course an actual live model to represent my face on both videos and livestreaming. It's a lot to learn and program, so I've got a bunch of work ahead of me!

I'll do my best to involve you guys in the future of this channel, asking questions and what you all think I should name things for the channel!! You all have been with me for so long, it only feels right, y'know?

Anyhow, thank you so much for reading!! I hope you've had a wonderful New Year, and that great things await you on the horizon!💖

#blazin news #blazin beeps #dots news #monthly update #youtube #twitch #small streamer #small creator

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slack-wise · 1 month ago

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Creative year in review 2024

1. I have a tradition of looking over the previous year from a creative bent. I tend to start with success/failure rates submitting to open calls. This year has been pretty kind. 15 submissions with 7 Yeses. That's a 47% success rate, which might be my best ever. Certainly compared to last year where I had a 100% failure rate! (which was unprecedented). Also in previous years I had ended up peppering these submissions, but in more recent times they have been paired back and slightly more targeted.

2. Of course submitting to open calls is only a small part of the whole spectrum. One of the biggest things I got out of the door in 2024 was XXto2, a (thick) zine I made with the super talented Tyrone Williams. We had been hatching the project for a while and were approaching publishers, despite a whiff of interest from a couple of small independent presses we ended up self-publishing the project. We launched at an event organised by the wonderful Photomafia studios (run by Joe Westley and Alex Macchiarelli). We put up a small, very haphazard exhibition and sold some zines. There are a handful left at: https://slackwise.org.uk/shop/xxto2/

3. What is quite notable this year is that I have hardly taken any photographs. I started working on a a huge project earlier in the year, but didn't make much headway. In fact I have only just sent off two rolls of film to be developed at the end of December. The only other photography I seemed to have engaged in are instant Fuji Instax images taken on the large format camera (with a Lomograflok back). I had been thinking though, when people ask and realise how expensive large format film is, I think even in my busiest periods I might only shoot 20 4x5 negatives in a single year and very often less.

4. In August our studio, studio MALARKEY hosted its first arts event since we set up shop. It was coordinated with NN Contemprary and called NNights. There were several venues around the town hosting arts events for one evening in early August. The footfall was very good and we had some curious visitors to our studio.

5. Probably the biggest thing I was involved in this year was the show we curated at studio MALARKEY called 'Apparition / Aberration / Your Mum'. This brought together 22 internaitonal artists presenting an array of work centered around themes of witchcraft, metaphysics, sacred geometry, the unknown and conjuring with a sprinkling of humour. I also showed a work in this exhibit. I was formulating the idea in June and gave myself a September deadline to take a single photograph. The image I made is a reworking of the Four of Cups Tarot card. But by far the biggest boon was contacting the artists, logistics, ordering prints, curating then mounting the show. Very proud of this one.

6. Another big thing for this year seemed to be purchasing (or gifted) artists books and zines. I don't think I have ever highlighted this in previous years, but 2024 seemed notable. I bought publications by Andreas Olesen, James Casebere, Lynn Cohen, Ariel C. Wilson, Al Palmer, Tyrone Williams (my collaborator from earlier this year), Billy & Hells (who included a lovely artists proof print), Lewis Baltz, Lauren Hubbard, Hikaru, Joe Westley and an extraordinary book called Made of concrete - 2011, from a trio of artists Sami Benhadj Djilali, Tarik Hayward and Guy Meldem (image pictured).

7. Odds and sods: I finally got a scanner (very affordably) that can cope with 8x10 negatives. I bought a 3m long pneumatic cable release (see next point). Very tangential: I got to see Melt-Banana perform live (this was on my bucket list). I mothballed my bot, Glyphbot. I built a new website for a very discerning customer, Jessica Harby. I backed a Kickstarter that is making a digital leaf shutter for large format cameras. Leaf shutters have not been manufactured since 2016.

8. What is next? I am working on a book (literally as we speak). Like most of my projects it has been delayed, was hoping to put it out this year, but it will roll into next. I have taken the final photographs for it, now comes the arduous task of layout. Hoping to publish it with a local artist friend who has a small press and is an all round mensch. In the summer as part of NNights I am hoping to open MALARKEY to use as a portrait studio. I have an old 5x7 camera (see above). Earlier this year I bought 4 film holders for it (these are quite hard to come by in the UK) plus the seller threw in 2 boxes of black and white film. I want to get sitters to take their own portraits using a very long 3m cable release I managed to pick up. I plan to take the portraits in a very narrow corner of the hoist room (a little annex to our studio). Think Irving Penn, German Expressionist cinema and this lovely old portrait by Cecil Beaton.

Err that's it!

You can peruse the 2023 review here (if you want).

#year in review #creative year in review #2024 #cyir #cyir2024

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f1ghtsoftly · 3 months ago

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All The Women’s News You Missed This Week

10/14/24-10/21/24

Formal justice systems make headway on holding men accountable for violence against women in Bolivia, Malaysia, and Ivory Coast. An Indian researcher wins a prestigious grant for her work on Dalit (untouchable) women. A female politician heckles King Charles during his visit to Australia and Italy bans traveling abroad for surrogacy in another attempt to limit the ability of same-sex couples to have children.

Want this in your inbox instead? Subscribe here

US Abortion Rights:

Missouri abortion-rights campaign fundraising total at $22M one month before election

3 states renew their effort to reduce access to the abortion drug mifepristone

Male Violence Against Women and Children:

Bolivian ex-leader's looming arrest warrant triggers protests

Ex-Louisville officer who fired shots in Breonna Taylor raid readies for 3rd trial

Woman dies 2 days after co-worker shot her at Santa Monica College, police say

K-pop star gives tearful testimony on harassment

S Korean striker sorry for filming secret sex videos

Arrests Hundreds More Over Child Abuse Claims

Why fight for justice isn't over in India's 'horrific' widow-burning case, 37 years on

Duchess shocked by sexual exploitation of refugees

Murder, rape and torture allegations hit Ivory Coast student union

Buses to become safe spaces for vulnerable women

Women In The News:

Susan Smith is up for parole 30 years after drowning her kids in a South Carolina lake

Bangladesh issues arrest warrant for ex-leader Hasina

The 'genius' Indian who shattered caste barriers

I'm not stupid, I've chosen to speak, says catfish victim duped for nine years

I’ll stand for Russian president when Putin's gone, Navalny’s widow tells BBC

New York Liberty claim first WNBA title with overtime win

WATCH: Moment King Charles is heckled by Australian politician

Women's program aims to combat violence in Chicago: "The police cannot do this alone"

Le Sserafim: The K-pop band who want to change the industry

LGBT:

Missouri now requires proof of surgery or court order for gender changes on IDs

Trans socialite did serve her jail term, Nigerian panel finds

Italy bans couples from travelling abroad for surrogacy

In New York, a constitutional amendment provides election fodder for the left and the right

Arts and Culture:

Harris interview with Fox News showcases a change in strategy for Democrats with network

Movie Review: ‘Smile 2' nicely targets pop star fame with the terrific Naomi Scott

Movie Review: Strippers, oligarchs and a fairy tale gone sideways, ‘Anora’ is a wild ride

For once — a true crime story that isn't focused on the killer

WATCH: Dawn Richard found freedom, clarity while working on new album

Becky G says ‘Encuentros,’ her second album of regional Mexican music, is a celebration of culture

Book Review: 70-year-old psychiatrist takes to the road in Anna Montague’s beguiling new novel

Half a Century After Title IX, Universities Are Still Failing Survivors: The Ms. Q&A With Nicole Bedera

As always, this is global and domestic news from a US perspective covering feminist issues and women in the news more generally. As of right now, I do not cover Women’s Sports. Published each Monday afternoon.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist #radical feminists do touch #char on char #radfem safe #radical feminist theory #radfems #radfem #feminist news #feminism #All The Women’s News You Missed This Week

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heliossecretdeskdrawer · 11 months ago

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Workflow Interruption

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Rodimus/Megatron

Characters: Megatron & Rodimus

Warnings: Sticky sexual content, cock warming, blowjobs, masturbation, fingering, not beta read

Summary: In which Megatron tries to discreetly enjoy himself while helping Rodimus with paperwork.

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes.

It wasn’t that Rodimus didn’t do any work on the Lost Light, no. It was more that the amount of administrative burden was… ridiculous. Often to the point where it could easily become overwhelming. While great strides had been made over the years in reducing the burden through various means—expanding the command staff, delegating some approvals to other, more appropriate units, taking a hands-off stance to some menial procedures, setting a daily messaging limit for Minimus, and otherwise streamlining workflows—there were often still mountains of things to review and approve. Never mind coming up with executive action plans.

Unfortunately, some things required Rodimus’s approval only, due to separation of duties on the ship.

Megatron, therefore, had to get creative to assist him in actually hacking away at the pile of things that couldn’t otherwise be delegated. He couldn’t remove some of the work, but he could remove some of the stress associated with it, making the task hopefully more bearable. Rodimus would even get a reward out of the whole thing.

It had taken some careful maneuvering and minor mass shifting to fit under the desk, but he’d done it, now wedged in the limited space available. These desks were not made with the intent that large mechs climbed under them.

“And you’re sure this is going to work?”

Rodimus’s chair was already pushed all the way in, his legs jammed against Megatron’s body. There was no way for him to see what would be going on under the desk, but he wouldn’t need to. If anything allowing him to see would pose more of a distraction.

“No,” Megatron said, keeping his hands on Rodimus’s knees, lest they slam shut on his head. Again. “That’s why this is a test.”

“I mean, sure, a test but even if it works, that doesn’t mean it’s going to pass an ethics audit.”

“Perhaps not, but you are working and I’m not on the clock, so we’re not wasting salary hours.”

And the backlog would, at any rate, be smaller if Rodimus managed to finish even one thing in that stack.

“There is, you realize, one crucial thing you need to do for this to work.”

Rodimus made a confused noise quickly followed by “oh.”

A panel retracted and a flaccid spike emerged from the housing. Not immediately useful but a problem. Still a step in the right direction.

Rodimus must have been nervous. A work situation wasn’t the usual time for this sort of activity, so perhaps it would take a little goading to get the plan in motion.

Then again, the goal was to relieve some of the stress of an overwhelming pile of paperwork by making Rodimus more comfortable, not necessarily actively pleasing him. A stiff spike would be convenient, but not necessarily required. Besides, it would react on its own before long.

With an easy lean forward, he took the head into his mouth. The taste was familiar, but clean. Thankfully someone had decided to take hygiene into account before showing up to the office today. There was even the faint, pleasant fragrance of mid-grade polish wafting from the thighs.

Already the internal pressure was rising, but for now he just held the spike this way. There was no need to rush and he was fulfilling his end of the agreement.

All he had to do was keep the spike warm until Rodimus either gave up or made headway in the stack on his desk. Anything else he chose to do was extra.

Strictly, he wasn’t even obligated to give Rodimus release at the end if he didn’t feel like it.

Rodimus shifted, leaning back in the chair and sighing.

If he wanted to get too comfortable there and do nothing, that was his business, but Megatron wouldn’t move. He could stay here, unmoving, with the head of a spike in his mouth for as long as necessary.

The spike continued to stiffen, pushing more into his mouth. Megatron simply leaned back to keep it at the same depth. For the moment, he ignored the tension building behind his own paneling.

There was a whine, followed by a clattering of datapads above him as Rodimus clearly remembered what was supposed to be happening.

He could hear the scrabbling of a light-pen across the surface of the forms. The pace was slow, like Rodimus was already leaning against his elbow, frowning at the poorly formatted blocks of text. The way the paperwork was organized was not always easy or comfortable to parse, especially under time pressure.

Megatron lightly flicked his tongue over the newly dripping slit in the head of the spike as encouragement. Just to ease the tension, not enough to be an additional distraction… ideally. If Rodimus was less stressed, his work would hopefully be less arduous.

Another sigh and more scrabbling.

Was this even helpful?

Hard to say.

He let the spike sink deeper into his mouth, about halfway. It slipped easily along his tongue before being allowed to rest squarely in the middle, a comfortable weight.

The warm pulsing between his own legs grew, a new distraction as he was tempted to simply let the spike reach all the way to his throat. Denying himself that was an act of discipline.

Unfortunately, with his mouth understandably full, Megatron was unable to ask Rodimus for feedback. Instead, he gave the spike a quick, gentle suck, as though that counted as posing a general question.

Rodimus groaned, but whether it was from frustration or pleasure or both was unclear without being able to see his face.

“Are you teasing me or helping me?”

At this point, probably a bit of both.

But, so be it.

If Rodimus didn’t want him to move, then he wouldn’t. There were other ways to keep busy while he waited for Rodimus to either give up or complete his tasks.

Megatron himself wasn’t on duty and the tension in his own array could have stood to be dissipated.

He let one of his hands leave Rodimus’s knees, sliding it down to where his own legs joined his trunk.

A panel clicked open beneath his finger and he pressed the tip against the swollen, rubbery node. It wasn’t lubricated yet—though he would shortly remedy this—but he allowed himself to poke and press gently, not quite circling it while still ensuring it was ready for more robust personal attention.

Inconsistent little blooms of weak pleasure popped across his circuits as he brushed against the dry node.

Rodimus probably hadn’t even heard his panel open over the mad writing spree on the desk above. The clattering of datapads and frustrated grumbles dominated the soundscape.

If Megatron were careful, there wouldn’t be any noise at all to catch Rodimus’s attention while he sought his own relief. Not that it would matter if Rodimus noticed or not—No, on second thought, that would probably be a greater distraction to his ability to focus than anything else.

Best to be discreet.

Keeping his head still, he let a finger slip backward between his legs, towards his valve to steal some of the escaping lubrication. He coated his finger in just enough to allow the tip an easy glide over his node. This, with the smaller motions and more localized fluid spatter, would be a far less disruptive avenue than what using his own spike would be.

For now, he just circled the node in slow, lazy motions. He had all the time in the world for this while Rodimus scrambled to get work done.

The spike in his mouth twitched, leaking a tiny volume of saline prefluid onto his tongue. He didn’t care for that particular flavor but it a tolerable necessity, easily overcome by everything else.

On instinct, he gave the spike another light suck, only for Rodimus’s legs to shake.

Megatron still wasn’t sure if this was actually helping Rodimus accomplish anything or if the chosen method of stress relief was actually getting in the way of the goal. The writing and complaining were the only tells that anything was happening up there. Would the reports being reviewed even be looked at critically or would they need another eye?

Of course, given the situation, he said nothing, as his frame relaxed, coaxed by the idle rub of his slick finger against his node.

No need to rush. Rodimus’s spike wouldn’t be going anywhere for some time, even as it wobbled and dripped in want.

Rodimus surely had no idea that he was the only one suffering, unable to hear even the small, soft noises of the lubricant’s surface tension occasionally breaking as the finger moved.

A calm pace was the key to remaining undetected. Being unhurried also allowed him to thoroughly massage every side of his node, including the small places that generally went overlooked when only seeking overload, like the almost hidden shaft under the hood. No part would be ignored while he let the charge gradually build.

His empty valve began to tense as the prickling tingle of charge grew in his node; it wouldn’t be long now. It was almost a shame that he couldn’t have warmed the spike in there instead but the positioning would never have worked… and Rodimus would have undoubtedly begun to notice by now what he was doing. For now, he just let the weight of the spike rest comfortably on his tongue.

Every now and then, Rodimus even canted his hips forward like he was trying to get relief, but Megatron just matched the motion to keep the friction minimal.

The only real stimulation for Rodimus probably came from the flexing of Megatron’s cheeks when he had to occasionally swallow down the build up of prefluid in his mouth.

Even the slightest slide of the interlocking metal plates across the sensors in his mouth sent charge straight south, adding to what was generated by the easy motion of his fingertip.

Lubricant, cooling as it met the brisk office air, flowed away slowly down the sides of his legs.

No, not long now at all.

There would be no way to hide what he had been doing after he and Rodimus were done here, but that would be alright. The worst that would happen would probably be Rodimus accusing him, rightfully so this time, of being selfish. And then Megatron would make it up to him, perhaps in private quarters and—

He tensed, trying, somewhat in vain, to prevent the spasms of overload from obviously shuddering his body under the desk. His legs shook, but he managed to keep his upper body steady. It took all of his will to not force the spike further back towards his throat and swallow hard.

The most damning evidence if Rodimus was paying attention was the soft gasp that escaped his mouth, muffled by the spike, as his finger‘s rubbing of his node slowed to a stop.

For several seconds after the wave of overload ebbed, his valve continued to clench in time to the weak, twitching pulses of the oversensitive node pressed under his finger.

Rodimus said nothing, the continued clattering of the datapads implying that perhaps he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t even attempted to thrust into Megatron’s mouth in response.

Megatron almost wondered if he was actually getting anything done up there or if he was just making noises to sound like something was being accomplished.

For now, he continued to wait for a few minutes. He knelt in place as the lubricant on his thighs and the outside of his valve began to congeal, turning sticky while he allowed his node to recuperate.

As soon as the pressure from his fingertip no longer caused his node to twitch almost painfully away, he resumed circling it slowly. The old lubricant was still sticky, less useful for its original purpose after being allowed to dry out but fresher lubricant would soon replace it. Charge began to build again and Megatron dipped his fingertip just into his valve to replenish his stock.

His valve twitched again at the touch, a reminder that it too wanted attention.

Later, he reasoned, returning his finger to its smooth, steady pace over his thrumming node.

Rodimus thrust forward in frustration again, his range limited by his posture.

After another few minutes elapsed, with Rodimus’s behavior above him not changing, ideas for how to make this a little more interesting popped into Megatron’s processor alongside the simmering charge in his circuits.

While, of course, he could continue to overload as much as he wanted from discreetly massaging his node until Rodimus was finished with his paperwork, surely that wasn’t all he could do.

Emboldened by his earlier victory, he tilted his head forward, gradually sliding Rodimus’s spike further towards the back of his mouth, nestling the rounded tip against the membrane leading to his throat.

Rodimus whined, but didn’t say anything else.

Tempting fate, Megatron let his hand leave his node, instead slipping two fingers downward until the tips pressed against the rim of his valve.

Just how much could he get away with before Rodimus caught on?

Another soft gasp left his lips as he leisurely pressed those fingers inside. If he went slowly, surely it wouldn’t make a sound.

Once fully inside, Megatron rested there a moment, enjoying the pressure as he let his valve clench around the small intrusion. A spike would be preferable, reaching more deeply and spreading more widely, but fingers, inserted up to the furthest knuckle, would do nicely in a pinch. He even brushed the thumb of that hand against his node.

Everything from here on out would have to be perfect. The slightest misstep in motion could make an unmistakable sound, giving the game away.

He flexed his hand, carefully testing how much he could easily move before slowly withdrawing it, a tingle of pleasure of the clenching valve walls in the fingers’ wake.

Without thinking, he thrust them back in as the spike threatened to slip past the membrane in his throat.

The resulting loud squelch was audible from under the desk.

The clattering stopped and Megatron froze, fingers buried deep in his valve as he was caught in the act.

“I knew it!”

#fic #one shot #valveplug #megatron #rodimus #megarod

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missielynne · 1 month ago

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I feel so out of sync with the Ghosts fandom! I just don't care at all about fanwanking everyone's gender and sexual identity and even the canon romances are meh to me. And I was so meh about this Christmas episode while everyone else loved it. The possessions didn't work for me at all, and the Pete stuff...not to sound heartless, but we've already been down that exact same road with him and Laura so it didn't hit nearly as hard this time. I also don't love Jay as much as most do---he's kind of a wimp who apparently went years without standing up for Sam to his family and he's always so desperate for acceptance. Speaking of his family, yet another way I'm different from most of the ghosts fandom is that I can't STAND Bela. Like Jay, she thinks way too highly of herself and is kind of a social climber but lacks Jay's endearing qualities. Can't wait to read your review of this ep!

What are a few predictions you have for the rest of this season? Not obvious ones like Nisaac getting back together (which...yawn!) but kind of bold and unexpected ones?! Mine: Trevor is getting sucked off, Sam will discover she's pregnant and Hetty's power has something to do with time travel!

I totally get it, even though I will disagree to varying degrees on varying levels on some of those things. (Like for instance, Bela's my girl but I see where you're coming from.)

As for the episode itself...it's weird cause I DID like it...but not as a Christmas episode. It didn't feel particularly like a Christmas episode at all compared to its predecessor unless it was trying to replicate the holiday chaos of something like Home Alone or Christmas Vacation (neither of which are faves of mine. I prefer the stuff with warmer, happier endings and messages). I feel like the Christmas part of it was so on the periphery of the story that they could have made each possession be its own normal episode and the same story could have been told without it changing anything.

Like I LOVED the idea of Nancy helping Sam indirectly make headway with her mother-in-law in ways she couldn't do on her own. That was cool. But was it particularly Christmassy a la Thor the Grinch possessing Sam and learning what Christmas means? No, it was not.

And Pete possessing Jay? Entertaining and I LOVED that it gave him the opportunity to meet the ghosts "in person", but I wish they could have used the opportunity for the two to connect more rather than just turning Pete into a Hetty who's using the possession for his own gain (even though I understand the whole Laura thing and love them connecting, it was under a circumstance that could have happened any time.) I'm hoping that since the showrunners and writers know how big the Pete/Jay face to face/connection is to all of us, they're doing some sort of build up, from first trip out together to possession to...whatever comes next until they finally do talk and it's like a Very Special Episode or something.

Now I don't feel as strongly about Jay as you do, but I definitely agree with the idea that there needs to be some sort of reckoning in his and Sam's relationship where he finally just, I don't know, starts spilling out all his frustrations and says how he really feels. And I don't care if it leads to them having marriage troubles or what (if it's temporary and leads them both to actually learn something) but I hate Jay always having to get the short end of the stick and doing nothing to improve the situation. It's very frustrating.

I agree about Trevor getting sucked off. I won't be surprised if it happens because they really seem like they're setting something like that up. I hope with all my might that Sam doesn't discover she's pregnant now or at any point in the series. I really don't like this habit of showrunners feeling like every happily married couple needs to have a baby pop out of nowhere to be complete and I would like to have at least one show where that doesn't happen. (They did it in BBC Ghosts and it was a factor, IMO, why the ending was so unsatisfactory. But if it happens, I'll deal.)

Hetty's power having something to do with time travel? Interesting! Although I'm still thinking it's a phone thing. And in the Halloween episode she was going on about it showing up suddenly so maybe if she has phone powers, like there's a storm and they have no power and no way to reach anyone and then voila, in their hour of need, Hetty's power appears and she saves the day.

I also think Sas' COD is coming. Maybe something to do with food? (And possibly if that's a cause, maybe Jay's restaurant will be part of the reveal?)

And we haven't had our Stephanie episode yet so I wonder what they'll do with her and what it will take to get her sucked off? Maybe she gets to have some sort of revenge on her killer? Like he gets out of jail on parole and ends up at Woodstone somehow where she helps catch/reveal him like with Trevor and Ari but more intense?

And I wonder what else they'll do with Elias since he's coming too? Maybe there will be some talk about the Thomas and Alberta situation and we'll find out that Thomas has been chilling with his dad downstairs and...they both come up under the guise of Thomas making an apology to Alberta and...chaos ensues?

#cbs ghosts spoilers #cbs ghosts speculation #missielynne's awesome anon

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years ago

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Alright so this is less romantic and more shitposty but. If I can request the scarecrows' responses to a gotham university psychology student showing up at his doorstep like "hey uh could you look at my thesis?" Like fully prepared to be fear toxin-ed on the spot but absolutely worth the risk cause lord knows that's some shit I'd do 💀

A/N: hnnggg this shouldn't have taken as long as it did but I kept taking it too seriously except for the absolute crack that it is lmao I have no doubt in reality it'd be a miracle if any of them opened the damn door.

Scarecrows Reacting To A Student Looking for Feedback (crack)

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

First of all, how did you find him?

Secondly, how dare you disturb him?

Are you fearless or just foolishly stupid?

He genuinely can’t tell and he doesn’t want to waste time thinking about it.

However, since you’re here now…

And it doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Clearly, despite how many threats he’s shot your way.

He isn’t opposed to a willing test subject

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow:

Well, this was odd.

If not also incredibly annoying.

When he hears your reason for being on his front stoop.

He is shocked…

Surely your institution has much more qualified, not to mention more relevant assistance to look over your paper.

He’s a man of science making headways, he has no time to–

Well, actually…he hasn’t seen very sufficient results in his recent Arkham patients…

BTAS Scarecrow:

Really? Him?

Even when he was a professor, none of his students came to him for a review.

No doubt he’s itching to just shut the door on you.

Then again, perhaps he can hold you ransom for some money to fund his toxin…

And on top of that he can also use you for testing the effects of his recent toxin…

How he could make it stronger, faster, last longer…

Besides, he’s never gotten a chance to properly review a term paper..

This should be fun.

TNBA Scarecrow:

He’s likely to ignore it, if not open it, yell at you and then slam the door.

This Scarecrow doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Surely, you have other institutional superiors that you can go to?

Why would you willingly dive headfirst into danger?

Unless…you just don’t care?

If you’re so willing to get into danger, perhaps he should take advantage of it.

He debates with himself for a minute…

Before finally just gassing you with his toxin.

Taking sweet delight in your screams.

Fear State Scarecrow:

You should consider yourself lucky that he even answered the door.

Like seriously, the only reason he answered was because of your incessant knocking.

He had half a mind to slip on his mask and inject you with toxin and be done with it.

He’s far too busy planning his Fear State Theory into motion.

Jonathan can’t have any distractions or loose ends…

Everyone has their role to play, he was so sure that Gotham would enter it’s Fear State seamlessly.

Patience running low, he does open the door, and one threat is all you get.

When you don’t leave, it’s very much your fault that you’re screaming bloody murder down the street.

Year One Scarecrow:

Jonathan groans at the prospect.

His past sure has a strange way of following him somehow.

Again, you should be surprised he even answers the door.

But you kept pushing your paper underneath his front door.

Quite, infuriating him.

It takes a few more threats and slams of the door before he finally reaches his breaking point.

He slaps on his mask, believing he’s done all he could to be rid of you.

Perhaps, a reminder will help you.

He’s no professor, a scholar on fear.

He’s The Scarecrow, the Master of Fear…and you’ve just experienced his wrath as you breathe in the toxic fumes.

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

Jonathan is confused, if not also agitated.

Is this some kind of joke?

His lived a long pathetic life of humiliation…

He doesn’t need it coming to him, knocking at his front door.

You can’t just expect anyone with a PhD is willing to help you…

What kind of simpleton just walks up to a known high-class criminal, a criminally insane criminal?

Honestly, when spoken like that, it was quite admirable.

Took a lot of courage…bravery…or just a huge lack of common sense.

Yes, yes, he’ll take a look, but first…indulge him in your fears

(it’ll help him in his own research later)

HQ:TAS Scarecrow:

Jonathan thinks this must be some kind of joke.

Surely, this is the Legion pulling his leg, what else could it be?

Not only that, how else would you found out where he lived?

It has to be a joke.

He tries to play along, but is quick to realize you’re actually being serious.

Probably the only one that’s actually going to help you with your thesis paper.

1000/10 would recommend

And you may even get a member of the Legion of Doom as a friend.

HHSD Scarecrow:

I’m surprised Grandpa could hear you knocking.

Just kidding, only a little, I love to love and rag on this version when I can.

But you really shouldn’t have picked a night when there were Elvira re-runs.

Jonathan opens the door, reluctantly and is perplexed, but immediately annoyed.

He didn’t have time for these things when he WAS a professor.

He thought he left this type of harassment years ago, why do you choose to haunt him now with it?

When you fail to leave on your own accord. He advises you to go away through a speaker by his door.

When you still refuse, he decides enough is enough.

Jonathan was inspired by that intriguing night at Crystal Cove, as he used a maniacal jack-al-lantern of his own to run you off.

#ri writes #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #arkhamverse scarecrow #nolanverse scarecrow #murphy scarecrow #btas scarecros #tnba scarecrow #fear state scarecrow #year one scarecrow #masters of fear scarecrow #harley quinn the animated series scarecrow #hqtas scarecrow #happy halloween scooby doo scarecrow #hhsd scarecrow #crack headcanons

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