#I also need to do some runs to finish the equipment out

[lizzy-frizzle]

The s3 map challenges are rough this time around

I haven't touched emergency mode but it should go better than the challenges went...I hope

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[liliavanrougelover]

You like his housewarden?

Summary: You ask for advice on asking out his housewarden

Characters: Vice-housewardens (platonic)

A/N: If you saw me post this right after the vice-housewarden one, no you didn't

Trey Clover:

He’s happy. You trust him with this information and want his help? He’s glad you trust him. He’s so willing to give you advice and it’s so helpful. He won’t tell you that Riddle likes you back and he won’t tell Riddle that you like him. “I can’t say for certain, but I believe Riddle would enjoy roses. A strawberry tart would also help-” (It’s just actual advice).

Ruggie Bucchi:

He’s ecstatic. Not that you like Leona, but that you asked for his help. Why? Well, he’ll help for a couple of thaumarks. He’ll even give you legitimate advice. Just hand over the thaumarks and his advice is all yours. It’s not that hard, is it? “Let's say 50 thaumarks. That’s too much? My knowledge is very useful so of course it’s a little expensive.”

Jade Leech:

He smiles. You picked the wrong eel for the job (Either of the tweels would be bad). He’s a little shit. He just tells you that Azul would like anything (which is true) and then walks away. Next thing you know Floyd’s running over asking you about your crush on Azul. Jade told him about it. “Azul would enjoy any type of confession. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to class.”

Jamil Viper:

He sighs. He’s so done. He barely gives you advice before walking away. Kalim asked him yesterday for advice on confessing to you and then you ask him for advice too? As long as you’re not playing some long con to steal from or hurt Kalim, he doesn’t care too much. “A stuffed animal would probably work. I have work to get done, so I have to go.”

Rook Hunt:

He’s not surprised. He already knows you like Vil and he’s equipped for this situation. And of course you would go to Le Chasseur D’Amour for this task. No one’s more qualified. He’s giving you advice before you even finish asking. “Roi du Poison would accept most confessions from you. What you should be asking is what not to do. You see-”

Ortho Shroud:

He’s so happy. He’s smiling so big (or the robot equivalent). You like his brother? His brother likes you! His big brother won’t be sad and lonely his whole life. He has advice, but none that’s really helpful. He tried at least. “Oh, well my big brother likes cats, so you could bring a cat when you confess. And you might have to confess outside his door.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

He has a cheeky smile. You like Malleus and you're asking for his advice? Well, he did raise Malleus, so he can’t blame you. He’s so excited for you, but he won’t tell Malleus. But, he told two other people. After all, Silver and Sebek aren’t Malleus. “Oh, you made a good choice by asking me. I’m pretty much an expert on Malleus. So first off-”

[max-nico]

Would you like an excerpt from a DCXDP fic I'm never going to finish ? Too bad. It's already posted.

Feel free to add on, it's completely out of my hands now lol

Tw: fighting with parents, almost exclusively dialogue since it's unfinished

"Back again, are we?"

"Shut up."

Danny grins at Jason's pout. It's all sharp fangs and shark teeth, crammed into something much too wide to be wolfish.

"So, what'd your old man do?"

"The same shit as always." Jason scoffs, crossing his arms. "He even got on me for cursin' this time. Can you believe that? Like that windbag has any right to boss me around..."

"I mean, isn't he your legal guardian and you his sidekick?"

"I ain't no sidekick! We're partners!"

Danny levels the eleven year old with a flat look. "I'm having a hard time believing you. Either way, he's still your legal guardian so he does, unfortunately, have some right to boss you around."

"I thought you were s'posed to be agreeing with me."

"And when have I ever done that?"

"Not a damn time."

"Exactly."

A pause.

"You're annoying."

"Clearly I'm better than the old windbag back at home bossing you around, huh?"

"Don't say it so smugly, he's not a hard person to be better than."

"That's not what you were saying when he first took you in."

"I was stupid and naive back then, now I know better."

Danny snorts.

"Does he even know where you run off to after your arguments?"

"No, your ghost hoodoo shit disables all my trackers once I get a block away from your house."

Ah, his haunt is growing nicely then. Very good.

"So you're leading an overprotective Batman right to me? Wow, I'm really feeling the love here, Jason."

"Oh shut your gob man, he won't do nothing to you as long as I'm here."

"Less comforting than you think, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Yeah whatever."

There's a thick pause between them. Danny doesn't take any mind to it, but he can see Jason growing more restless by the second.

"It's jus..." The boy starts to spill, a tiny quiver to his bottom lip. "He said something real mean to me... I-I don't think I wanna go back."

"What'd he say?"

"It's stupid..."

"Can't be that stupid if it hurt your feelings bad enough for you to run away again."

Jason is silent for another moment, his eyes flicking side to side as he argues with himself.

"H-He said that he ain't my daddy, and I need to shape up and stop making him act like one." He paraphrases. "I already know he's not my dad, I'm the one who said it first, but I don't- I can't- It's... If it's the truth, why'd it hurt so much when he said it?"

Danny's not really equipped to deal with big feelings like this, at least probably not in the way Jason needs. Being a therapist has always been his older sister's thing, Danny never really had a knack for it. He can try, though. He can help... Somewhat? He can sit with the kid, or talk him down, or maybe enable a bad habit or two for the night. Not a perfect solution, but it's what he's got in the meantime.

"Sometimes the truth hurts." Danny shrugs. "Maybe if you can change the truth or...? Actually, I don't fucking know. I was talking out of my ass."

"And when have you not done that?"

"Not a damn time."

"Exactly."

"You're such a little jerk!"

And then they're squabbling on the floor of Danny's house. It's nicer than most around Crime Alley, but the wood floors still give them splinters when they roll around. It's good, and so familiar to Jason he almost feels like he's home again.

When they've finally ceased their petty fight, Jason sighs, his training allowing him to be only sightly out of breath.

"You'll keep the bat away for a couple nights, won'tcha?"

"You know I try to keep him away from here every night."

"Y-Yeah, but try extra hard for tonight, kay?"

"You got it kiddo."

Bonus:

Bruce looks for Jason for three days before he turns up again. Every time he's gone looking for him, he ends up back at the batcave. It's the weirdest thing Bruce has ever seen.

Unfortunately, this is also grounds for getting magic users involved. How irritating.

Jason is like 11-12ish and was taken in by Bruce when he was a very early 10yrs old. Danny is barely 19. I have backstory for how he got where he is stored in my brain, but idk if I'm actually gonna write it.

Also, I am a good parent Bruce believer, but he is the smartest idiot alive. He's making a lot of mistakes, just at the cost of his relationship with his kids, unfortunately.

Askbox and DMs are open. I implore you to chat/interact with my posts. This is a safe space.

[unpretty]

Kink taxonomy hell makes me a) very glad I am ace & don't have to deal with these problems & b) lowkey thinking about how I'd approach running a porn production company whose entire output is like 15 minute porn shorts based on these asks. I mean, I wouldn't actually want to start a porn production company, because that would require way more start up capital & effort than it would be worth to me personally (see: ace, but also burn out re: small production companies). But, see, I do work in the production industry at a small production company on the non-porn side of things (we make stuff for like Netflix/HBO/Hulu & shit) & often make or consult on budgets, so it's a bit of a fun thought exercise about how to approach it.

Get a core cast you can rotate through for different scenarios (6-10 ppl for cast; though actual # each day might be much lower); ideally have a studio space + production off with edit suite; aim for ~2-3 set ups each day depending on complexity/# of on-screen orgasms (goal for these is short so might not be a full scene/scenario); in-house equipment as much as possible (cameras, lights, but also build up a sex/prop repository that can be resued); two-camera; relatively small crew, -- Director, producer, AP, DP, A/C, sound, gaffer, DIT (can be the AE), safery coordinator, PA x2, HMU+asst, wardrobe + props + art dept float -- so ~16 set crew, plus on the post/in-house side you'll need: editor x2, production accountant, AE (can be the same person as DIT), post super. Plus then unlike the companies I work at you'd want probably a marketing person & web dev.

Schedule would look something like: 3 weeks prep // 2 wks shoot w/ goal of getting material for ~24 shorts // 8 wks edit to get through all material (could start posting scenes finished sooner before all scenes are edited, obvs; this is assuming 3 edit days per 15 min short on average, but it all depends on how complex you want to get with the edit; if it's just 15 minutes of one shot getting played out with a few cut aways, then edit time could get cut down by a lot. But I'm assuming some stuff is going to get more complex edits; it also might work better to have three editors going so that edit time & prep+shoot time are roughly equal)

The issue here is that, ok, start up costs to get gear, etc will always be high, so setting those aside for the moment but overhead costs + staffing costs are going to get pricey. Granted, I don't know what the going rates are for folks either behind or in front of the camera in porn, but I do know the going rates outside of porn & I also know what I think are fair rates for these positions / what I would want to pay people. So imo for a single shoot day, you're looking at well over $10k for labor alone. All in, with what I described, my slapdash back of the envelope math says you're looking at $350,000+ in labor costs for the whole shebang & that's before fringe (je refuse to 1099 everyone; that way lies audits by the irs), equipment, overhead, etc. Easily I can imagine a half million dollar budget here in total.

& I guess that's where I start stalling out, because I know how to set up a shoot, get insurance, have legal buttoned up, but there's so much free porn out there that breaking even, much less monetizing it!, seems even harder than non-porn stuff these days. (& that's a struggle too! A huge part of why I'm burned out.) I mean, even if people like, pay to have their prompt included, folks aren't going to want to pay THAT much to cover costs. I guess aiming for lots of subscription fees on different platforms? But that's a lot of marketing elbow grease & takes time to build up, making starting capital essential. The stuff I'm familar with wrt indie filmmaking -- grants or corporate sponsors -- seem less likely for porn. & sure I could cut corners in my hypothetical budget, find savings, pay people less (ugh), but like, no. Maybe if I actually watched porn I'd know more about how it makes money, but that's a bridge too far.

Anyway, the government should give us all free money to pursue making art, even (especially?) when that art is porn. Or something.

there's nothing i can add to this, really

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Bryce/Jared, M&Ms; Girl Dad

For the prompt: Jared being a girl dad.

And I took that literally.

“Blythe, two minutes,” Jared says. “I mean it.”

He already said this two minutes ago, and he meant it then too, but unfortunately, he doesn’t have a lot of leverage here. What’s Jared going to do if two minutes pass and Blythe still isn’t ready: drive off to her game without her? Ben's at Elaine's helping her with her garden, and Bryce is meeting them at the rink after he finishes up at the dentist with the twins, so it's just her and Jared, and it's her game they're running late for. Jared isn't going anywhere without her, and she knows it.

Blythe appears almost exactly two minutes later.

“Yeah, yeah,” Blythe she says as Jared applauds her arrival.

He glances outside to try to gauge what jacket to hand her, only to squint at the surprisingly beautiful day.

“Can you grab me a baseball hat?” Jared asks.

“Who’s slowing us down now?” Blythe says, but doubles back. They’re getting close to actually late by the time they arrive at the rink, thanks to a stretch of bad traffic — the kind of late where getting the remainder of Blythe’s equipment on becomes a team effort, Jared lacing her skates while her goalie coach and back up goalie work on her pads. Frankly it’s a miracle no one’s taken a blow to the head, but he supposes there’s still time.

He's also well aware that Blythe may well planning exactly that — Jared watched her use her head for a couple saves during her last practice, which was the single most horrifying development in his recent existence, and he has two toddlers, so he has so many other horrifying things to choose from. Obviously he told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not permitted to intentionally stop pucks with her head, so he expects chances are 50/50 she tries to do today.

“I feel like I’m in some historical movie,” Blythe remarks. “Like some princess with six maids, all trying to get her into her ballgown.”

“Or a knight and her squires,” Jared says, because she’ll like that one.

“A knight’s way better,” Blythe says, already halfway down the hall, her back up literally on her heels. The two of them goalie shuffle with determination that makes Jared feel weirdly proud — he guesses it isn’t weird that he’s proud of his kids, but he always ends up being proud of the weirdest shit. The only person who’s proud of weirder shit than Jared is, well.

Bryce is attempting to juggle toddlers and popcorn when Jared finds them in the stands. Jared saves the popcorn just in time. “I’m confiscating this,” he says. He skipped lunch.

Bryce doesn't argue, staring at him in a way that might have made him self conscious ten years and three kids ago, but at this point, Bryce can just tell him. Jared needs popcorn more than answers.

“Girl Dad!” Bryce says.

Jared frowns in incomprehension around his popcorn, chewing as quickly as he can as Bryce hands him a terror.

He’s just swallowed when Bryce plucks the hat right off his head. “Hey!” Jared says, adjusting his grip so he can fix his hair without letting go of the popcorn or the already squirming kid.

“How did the dentist go?” Jared asks, and both terrors bare their teeth at him in unison. “Still all there, huh?”

Two nods, then the teeth go away, thank fuck. Jared’s got enough to handle right now — they don’t need to add biting to the mix again.

“Girl Dad,” Bryce says, and when Jared looks up from toddler level, he finally realizes what hat he’s been wearing since they left the house.

“Where did Blythe even find that?” Jared asks, then, looking at Bryce’s face, “Aw, fu — babe. Babe, are you — did you want me to —“

“I’m fine,” Bryce says, doing his own little shuffle so he can hold onto the hat, the kid, and dab at his eyes with some Kleenex he rescues out of his pocket. “I just — just look at how big she is now!”

Below them, Blythe’s cutting grooves into the ice, getting her crease to her liking, her shoulders set in a way that tells Jared she's dialled in, completely in the game now, that even though the puck hasn't dropped yet, if he called out her name right now she wouldn't hear. She looks like an impenetrable wall. Also like someone who would try to headbutt a puck out of the air just to get her fathers back for such horrible affronts as expressing fear for her safety.

“Most of that’s goalie equipment,” Jared says.

He presses his lips together as Bryce somehow figures out how to elbow Jared without jostling either terror from their unusual state of calm. Maybe they like the dentist. Blythe would probably say that was the most terrifying thing yet, and Jared might not even disagree.

It has been awhile since Jared’s seen this hat. Years, and not just a few of them either. After Blythe was born, someone got it for Bryce, just a simple black ball cap that said Girl Dad in vaguely cursive lettering. At least, Jared’s pretty sure it was a gift, since Bryce usually passes on the cheap online shit, but maybe none of his favourite designers had anything especially ‘Girl Dad’ oriented the year Bryce became one. Or whatever.

Jared has never uttered the words ‘girl dad’ unironically in his life, before or after having kids, but Bryce leaned right into it, and for years this was his default hat whenever they took Blythe out anywhere. It got him plenty of chirps when pictures of him wearing it inevitably surfaced online, along with the weird relationship the internet had with Jared’s husband being reignited once again.

Jared had resigned himself to seeing it as long as the thing held together, but after Ben was born, Bryce stopped wearing it. He didn’t buy a Boy Dad hat instead or anything, just swapped it out for one of the seventeen other hats he lying around, and Jared hasn’t seen it since. Hadn’t thought about it in almost as long.

He hadn't even known it was missing —if someone asked, he would have assumed Bryce had tucked it away with the other things he couldn’t bear to let go of.

It's a collection Jared admittedly makes a visit to once in awhile himself, usually to go over tiny little baby socks and shoes, the receiving blanket that somehow once swaddled Ben twice around, the smallest Canucks jersey ever made, to marvel that they had, in fact, been that tiny once.

Then they get teeth.

“You want me to take —“ Jared says, and then he has two terrors in his lap while Bryce retreats, hat in hand, to have his teary emotional moment a somewhere a little more private than in stands peppered with parents of Blythe’s teammates, some they’ve known half Blythe’s life.

“You liked the dentist, huh?” Jared asks, and, because parenting continues to be so fucking weird, he gets two shiny smiles in response.

[jinx-xxed]

Broken Bones

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Just a quick thing because I couldn’t get this scene out of my head 🤕 also an important note; when it says the rifle can fold think Caitlyn Kiramman’s gun from Arcane S1 because I think it was so cool and I’m obsessed with that mechanic 🙏

Summary; Some new guys think it’s a good idea to try and threaten you.

Content; Harassment, vague threats of sexual assault, you’re an inventor/mechanic, your weapon is a rifle, blood and injury, (subtle) protective Wriothesley

Wc; 2k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

You blow out a breath, leaning back from your work. The metal on the pipe glows red hot before beginning to cool, securely welded in place. Another successful pipe swap finished, which means this sector of the Fortress is done and you can cross it off your long list.

You hang in the air, suspended high above the ground by harnesses and ropes. It’s a new thing you tested out in order to reach the higher piping and mechanics within the Fortress, and it’s been working beautifully. Wriothesley nearly had a heart attack when he first saw you suspended hundreds of feet in the air, but you assured him you were fine. It turned out to be fun once you got used to it, sitting above everything else in the Fortress and getting lost in your work. You secure your blow torch to your belt, lifting your goggles to properly inspect the welding. You run your gloves along the pipe, testing its stability and making sure everything will hold.

You tasked yourself with replacing a bunch of the major piping within the Fortress, finding it would provide better energy conservation and also faster energy transfers. Wriothesley was all for it, letting you take the lead on the project and trusting your judgement. You have two more areas left to complete, each one taking about a day to finish.

Once satisfied with your inspection, you begin to lower yourself to the floor by loosening the ropes and using your feet on the wall to control your speed. You hit the metal safely, a soft breath escaping you with relief. You’re always just a little paranoid that a rope will snap and leave you to splat on the floor like a bug.

You start detangling yourself from all your equipment, placing your tools carefully in your bag and undoing the harness. You finally wriggle out of it when you hear footsteps behind you. You turn, expecting to find Wriothesley coming to inspect your work but instead see three unfamiliar, male faces. You instantly straighten, brows furrowing slightly. This area of the Fortress is mostly empty and unused; they have no reason to be in these tunnels.

“Can I help you, sirs?” You ask, voice holding a cold bite to it. You don’t recognize any of them so you can only assume they’re fairly new inmates. Their eyes are unfriendly, their expressions unreadable. They’re all taller than you, with only one seeming to have decent muscle mass.

The one at the head of the pack shrugs, sniffing. “Dunno, maybe. Are you the one that’s real buddy-buddy with His Grace?” The way he says Wriothesley’s title is mocking and it instantly lets you know what their intentions are.

“I hear they’re more than just buddies.” The second one snickers.

The first nods, a slimy smirk on his face. “Right, right. She’s his plaything, huh? You’re too cute to be with a stupid bastard like him.”

You glower as they continue to get closer. “Do you actually need something or did you come here just to be fucking weird?”

“You could probably give us something, yeah. We want benefits, princess, and you’re gonna get ‘em for us from your manwhore.” He continues. They’re fully in your space now with your back an inch from the wall and them pacing around you like sharks. “Better meals, days off from the factory, coupons. Maybe even some time with you, huh?” The other two chuckle along with him.

His eyes and uneven teeth glint in the dim lighting. “Life’s too hard down here for newbies like us. Surely you can find it in your heart to agree. All you gotta do is ask, princess. And if you don’t…” He shrugs again, considering the alternative. You catch the glint of a knife on the second one and you wonder where in the hell he got that. The guards should’ve frisked him, they should’ve caught it. Although, when you take another look, it seems to be a piece of rusty old metal sharpened into something deadly and stuck onto a piece of wood. Hell, it might even be a chunk from the pipes you’d been taking out.

“If you can’t handle simple prison life then you’re just massive wimps. Wriothesley is more than gracious in his rule down here and you should be grateful he gives scum like you anything at all.” You snap, glaring harshly. “Although don’t count on having anything left after this.”

The main guy scoffs in disbelief. “Oh, please. I can see His Grace hasn’t done anything about your mouth yet. Guess you need a real man to do that, right? Should we send you back with something to remember us by?”

He reaches towards you. He makes to grab your wrist, to pin you against the wall and do whatever he wants.

He never gets the chance. Not before there’s a resounding, sickening crack through the metal tunnel and he’s laid flat on the floor. You hold your rifle backwards in your hands, having just slammed the steel butt of it into the guy’s jaw hard enough to break bone. It had been folded and attached to the back of your belt, ready to come out at a moments notice. You press your lips together as you bring it down again directly on his nose, blood spurting from the pure, angry force behind it as he gives you a nice scream.

You flip your rifle in your hands and shoot it all in one smooth motion, the makeshift knife then flying out of the second man’s hand. You point the barrel at the other two, your eyes ablaze as they look at you with true fear, their hands going up. You motion from the one on the floor to the others. “Take your piece of shit friend and leave. Don’t let me ever catch you trying this again.”

They oblige, quickly forcing the one up while his shattered nose bleeds profusely down his front and he groans. Your gun follows them the entire time, your finger resting on the trigger. They leave in a panic, muttering something like “crazy bitch” as they do.

Once they’re out of sight and you can no longer hear their footsteps, you release a shuddering breath. You didn’t realize how bad your hands were shaking until now, and it makes you clutch your gun a little tighter. You’re surprised it’s taken this long for someone down here to try and use you to get at Wriothesley, honestly. You suppose the newbies haven’t been taught to fear you just as much as the Duke yet.

You swallow thickly, folding your rifle and putting it safely back on your belt. You quickly stuff the rest of your tools into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and hurrying out of the tunnel. You do your best to ignore the blood spatter on the floor and on the toe of your boot.

» ☆ «

You flinch when there’s a knock on the door of your office. It startles you out of the trance you’d been in, engrossing yourself with the newest project on your work table. You don’t even need to get up to see who it is because the door opens anyway, revealing Wriothesley. He promptly shuts it again after stepping into your office. You pause your music and lift your goggles, looking at him expectantly.

He leans against the side of your table, arms crossed over his wide chest. “Heard you shattered someone’s nose today?” He asks lightheartedly, the corners of his lips upturned.

You sigh through your nose, shutting your eyes briefly. You knew he’d find out sooner rather than later, which is why you’d been hiding out in your work shop. “I know I shouldn’t have. I took it too far, I’m sorry-“

The amusement immediately drops from Wriothesley’s face, his brows furrowing. He laughs in disbelief. “What? No, no, that’s not what this is. I don’t give two shits about those guys. I think you should’ve shot them, honestly.” He spits. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, then looking at you earnestly. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

You nod. “Yes, I’m fine. They didn’t touch me. They just threatened me.”

He hums in thought. “What happened down there? I want to hear it from you, not those idiot fuckers that cried wolf when I paid a visit to the infirmary.”

“Well, I was doing work on the pipes and I had just finished when I heard someone coming into the tunnel. I thought it was you at first, but I saw them instead. I didn’t recognize them so I figured they were new. They were aware of my relationship with you and decided to try to use me to get you to give them benefits, like better Welfare meals and coupons and stuff. They tried to put me against the wall and the one tried to grab me and that’s when I broke his nose.” You explain. “Oh, and the bigger one had some kind of makeshift knife. Don’t know where he got it or how he made it but I shot it out of his hand.”

Wriothesley stares at the wall, hand idly placed over his mouth, thinking things over in his mind. Theres a long pause before he finally shakes his head, a frustrated sigh leaving him. “I had a feeling those three would be trouble.” He mumbles before looking at you. “You did good, sweetheart. I’m glad you protected yourself. I’m sorry you had to deal with that bullshit.” One of his hands cups your cheek, the familiar cold of his rings soothing.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You say, leaning into his touch as his thumb rubs back and forth across your skin.

“You say that, but it is, technically.” He responds, remorse glistening in his eyes. No matter what you tell him, you know he’ll blame himself for whatever trouble befalls you in the Fortress. He thinks that since it’s his domain, he should be able to control what happens entirely—but nobody’s that powerful, especially in a land of criminals. “From now on, I’m sending a guard with you when you work on the pipes.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “It’ll make me feel better. I know you can handle yourself but I’d rather avoid it coming to that if we can.”

“Fine, I guess.” You mutter and he smirks, leaning down to kiss your pouty lips.

He pulls away but just barely, your faces inches apart as he studies you to the point it makes you squirm. “Why didn’t you come to me?” He asks at last.

You fidget with your hands, debating your answer. “I just… I don’t know.. I guess- I guess I just thought it wasn’t a big enough deal. I’d handled it… somewhat.”

He straightens with a huff, hands resting leisurely on his hips and looking down at you. It vaguely makes you feel like a child getting scolded. “Anything’s a big deal when it concerns you. Next time come to me, alright? I need to know about these things, and I’d rather hear it from you than from some lowlifes. Agreed?”

You nod in defeat. “Agreed.”

“Good. Now, it’s late and you’ve had a long day, so you should go back to our room and get some sleep, hm?” He says, tilting your head up with a gentle hold on your chin. “I have some business to take care of but I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

You narrow your eyes at him, having a feeling you know what “business” he means but he merely smiles at you, always refusing to show his hand, even when it’s you. He walks back to his office with you, stopping at the door to give you a kiss on your forehead before you go your separate ways.

Those three men are about to have a very, very bad night.

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

☣︎ Adverse Reaction ☣︎- X Virus x Female reader NSFW

Warnings: dubcon

Originally published on AO3, which you can read here if you’d prefer :)

Tags: aphrodisiacs, kidnapping, choking, slapping, degradation, praise, orgasm control & denial, fingering, face fucking, overstimulation, creampie

Summary: You were kidnapped by a mysterious man in a gas mask and now found yourself disoriented and restrained in a sterile lab. Your captor aims to use you as a test subject for a deadly drug, but it may not have the effects he intended.

Words: 6.2k

As always

☣︎ ☣︎ ☣︎all canon will be flexible to make way for sexy☣︎ ☣︎ ☣︎

Okay so I think this may be my fav fic I’ve written like ever???? I had so much fun writing this and I’m really shocked there aren’t more X Virus fics. I made him such a sarcastic little fuck here and I just adore him so much <3

Also like I KNOW I said I would be slower with fics when I posted my last one since I finished posting the ones I’ve had on AO3 for a while but I’ve been working on this one for a couple of months and I really did just finish it

They say humans have an innate ability to know when they’re being watched, something we honed through evolutionary changes in order to protect ourselves.

So when you were walking down the street unable to shake the feeling you were being watched, something told you you needed to get back to your apartment quickly. Something kept creeping into your vision, causing you to whip your neck around, only to find there was nothing there.

“I’m going fucking crazy…” you muttered to yourself, picking up the pace.

You started to feel a few raindrops hit you, because the world just hates you.

Just great.

Only a few seconds passed before it became a torrential downpour. You started to pretty much run to your apartment. You made it to the back door, where you always entered.

You were so frantic, both from the lingering fear and the way you were getting absolutely soaked right now, that you immediately dropped your keys.

Another hand grabbed them before you could. You whipped around barely catching a glance at who picked them up. He was tall with messy brown hair, a black hoodie pulled up over it. He was wearing blue goggles, but they were pushed up onto his head to reveal his eyes. The most notable thing about him was that most of his face was obscured by a gas mask. Your stomach filled with dread at the sight of him.

He pressed you up against the wall, holding a cloth over your mouth. His teal eyes narrowed at you as he held a finger over his mouth, signaling you to be quiet. It was the last thing you saw before everything went dark.

—

You woke up feeling like someone had smashed a brick into your head. You were sitting in a chair, head lolled to the side. When you tried to raise your head, you only felt dizzier. Your eyes seemed to swing across the room, never focusing on anything. The room smelled sterile and was surprisingly well lit, the bright lights only serving to further disorient you.

You tried to move, only to realize you were completely restrained. Your head fell downward, eyes finally focusing on the restraints that held you. They looked medical grade.

Everything about this situation was making you feel worse and worse. You weren’t kidnapped by some random sick fuck. This guy had professional equipment and from what you could make out, a seemingly legitimate place to do it. It being whatever sick shit he planned on doing to you.

You started to pull on the restraints, moving as much as you could, which wasn’t much given how tightly you were bound.

“Don’t struggle. You’ll only waste your energy.” A cold voice made you snap your head up and to the side.

There was a figure standing over by the table, looking preoccupied with something else. Your eyes were still blurry so you couldn’t quite make out what he was doing.

He started to approach you, setting what seemed to be a clipboard down next to you on the table. You whimpered, trying to get out of the restraints even more.

You heard him let out a tired sigh. “Don’t freak out yet. I’m just making sure you’re intact after your little nap.” He then shined a light in your eye, observing your eyes’ reactions before writing it down on his clipboard.

Your eyes finally focused and you were able to see the man in front of you, recognizing him as the guy who had kidnapped you. Those teal eyes were unmistakable. He no longer had a gas mask on, and you could see his whole face clearly now. He was… much more attractive than you would have expected.

“Cause… of the chloroform?” You almost didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, still disoriented.

He immediately burst out into a sick laughter, “Chloroform?! That’s what you think that was?” You didn’t understand what was so funny about that.

“What are you stupid? Watched too many movies?” He asked you rhetorically. When you gave no answer he continued, “Chloroform doesn’t actually make people pass out.”

You were shocked by the sudden change in his demeanor. One second he was cold and flat and now he was acting absolutely insane.

He recollected himself, his voice much calmer. “No, what I gave you was much better than chloroform. It was something I created myself.” He sounded pretty proud of that.

You were unsure of how to react to that. You trembled as you watched his movements. He read over whatever was on his clipboard, clicking his pen a few times before his eyes settled back on you.

“That was the final thing I needed to check before the test. Your blood already came back normal.” His tone had gone back to being flat.

“Blood…?” You looked down at your arms, and sure enough there was a gauze pad and band-aid on your right arm. He had taken it while you were sleeping.

You felt sick. What other things had he done to your body while you were asleep? What the fuck was he even going to do to you?

“Wait… test?” You asked, knowing you really didn’t want to know the answer.

“A new drug I just made myself. You’ll be the first person I try it on.”

“Drug? I don’t have any health issues… I don’t need that.” You said, sounding more desperate as you went on.

“I know you don’t. That’s why you’ll be the perfect test subject. No other conditions to muck up my results. Your death will be purely from this drug.”

Death. He really just said that. You felt like you were going through all the stages of grief at once. You needed to escape. He couldn’t do this to you. You had people that would be looking for you. But you were restrained so tightly and already weakened from whatever he’d already done. It was no use.

Despair washed over your body, pitting in your stomach. You started to tremble violently as the sobs began to wrack through you, tears prickling your eyes before falling into your lap.

He crouched down to be at eye level with you. “Stop crying.” He said in a cold tone, wiping your tears. The action was mechanical and lacked the warmth it would normally entail. “It makes it harder to see the results.”

You watched in horror as he got up, turning to the table beside him before picking up a syringe full of unknown liquid. He pushed a few beads of the liquid out, flicking the syringe to get out any air bubbles before turning back to you. There was a complete lack of emotion on his face.

“Please…!” You cried, squirming as much as you could given how tightly he had you bound. “You don’t have to do this! I won’t tell anyone about this or your experiments if you let me go!”

“Stop squirming!” He raised his voice, anger showing through. “Don’t you know that’ll only make this hurt more?” He asked as if you were stupid.

He cleaned your arm with an alcohol pad, waiting a few seconds for it to dry.

Why even bother cleaning it if he’s gonna kill me anyways?

Your stomach dropped when you realized your death might not be quick. He had only said it would kill you, not that it’d do it instantly. He seemed like the type of sick fuck that would get a kick out of watching you suffer, taking notes on his stupid little clipboard while you die slowly.

You winced slightly as the needle pierced your skin. In seconds he had injected the liquid into your body. Whatever it was, it was too late to do anything about it.

He made some notes on his clipboard, his eyes shifting between you and the paper. He was observing your every move.

I’m just some damn Guinea pig to him…!

Then he started to undo your restraints. You looked at him with bewilderment. He glanced at your face as he shifted to undo the other side. “Try to escape if you must but you should know that in less than a minute you’ll be too weak to do anything.”

Hatred of this man started to boil through you. You hated the fact that he was using you as a goddamn lab rat. You hated his matter of fact tone. You hated his stupid little clipboard. You may be too weak in a minute to escape but you already decided that the second the restraints were fully off, you were going to make a huge mess of this sterile fucking lab. You’d knock over all the vials on the table, all his equipment, anything you could get your hands on was going to end up on his precious white floor.

The final restraint was off and he backed away from you, clearly waiting to see what you’d do so he could document it.

Before you could even attempt to get up, you started feeling the effects of the drug. Your body started to heat up, your heart beating rapidly. Maybe it’d beat so fast you’d go into cardiac arrest and get to die quickly.

You tried to get on your feet, but your legs felt like jelly.

“I told you you’d be too weak to-” He said as you ignored him, trying to push your feet. “And yet you try anyways.” He said, another tired sigh coming from him.

You started to pant, using your arms to push yourself up. He looked surprised you were even able to do that, and then you immediately fell onto the floor.

You were kinda happy about it, honestly. The floor was cold against your skin, which was burning up. You had started to feel a little dizzy too, so nothing like a little horizontal time to fix that.

Then you started to feel the heat radiating from between your legs. It was quickly becoming a more prevalent issue. Your clit was starting to throb, cunt aching, desperate for any type of stimulation.

Now is so not the time.

Just what the fuck had he injected into you?! You thought it was supposed to kill you.

To be fair, it was. Your captor was also standing over you, wondering why you hadn’t died yet. Maybe you were special and it would just take a little longer?

Regardless, he now felt the need to act. He never wanted to interfere with his experiments, but if you were going to grovel on the floor like that then he wouldn’t even get to see your face when you died. That’s like… the best part.

So he figured he might as well get you up and on the table, makes it easier to do the autopsy later anyways.

“Hey, get up.” He lightly tapped you with his shoe.

You didn’t respond to him. While playing dead surely wasn’t your best strategy, you couldn’t get up even if you wanted to.

He groaned and grabbed your arm, trying to pull it over his shoulder to get you up. You were so limp that once he got you all the way up, you swung forward, crashing into his chest.

“Jesus…” he groaned, clearly annoyed by having to hold you up. He was struggling to get the right grip on you. Clearly he didn’t often deal with live people.

Finally, he settled on one arm around your thighs and the other around your waist, awkwardly dragging you to the table. Your face was buried in his neck, your whole body leaning into him.

This type of hold wasn’t doing you any favors given your current issue.

You felt so hazy. Your thoughts were racing and yet none of them seemed to make any sense. The thoughts that were ringing out the loudest though, were the ones about your captor holding you right now. His skin was so warm and he smelled so good and he was so close and… you just had the urge to bite him. It was a light bite, one that more resembled an act of seduction rather than self defense. He let out a slight groan, but this time instead of one of annoyance it was a sound that was congruent with your action.

He slammed you down on the table by your shoulders, his face inches from yours. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You looked up at him, panting and flushed. He was pissed. Not much to do about it though, and also not much to fear anyways, you’d be dead either way.

He looked over your face, no doubt trying to analyze the meaning of your action. The confusion was evident. You didn’t blame him though, your actions were completely illogical. Even you couldn’t explain why you had just done that.

But the more he stared at you, the more you ached. You tried to subtly rub your legs together, any amount of friction would help sate you, you hoped. His eyes immediately caught the action, then flickered right back to your face.

It was funny really, watching a guy as intelligent as him slowly put the pieces together. It was like you could see the little hamster inside his brain start running faster on its wheel.

He grabbed your chin, pulling your face down to meet his eyes more. He was still scanning over you, like he was trying to solidify his conclusion.

Lightly, he used his thumb to press on your lower lip. He was testing the waters. Your mouth immediately fell open for him, and you ran your tongue over his thumb, sucking it into your mouth.

Immediately, his face went fully red. That didn’t seem to be the reaction he had expected. “What is wrong with you?!”

You too wondered that. This guy had kidnapped you, drugged you, and now all you could think of was how badly you were aching to have his cock stretch you.

“This wasn’t- did I make a mistake…?” He questioned himself. Well at the very least, you were glad this wasn’t intentional.

But at this point whether or not it was intentional didn’t really matter anymore. You pressed your thighs together even more, trying anything to sate the dull ache you felt between your legs.

The motion caught his attention again, and his eyes stayed fixated there for a moment, before slowly making their way up your body, to the dip of your waist, passing over the curve of your breasts, until his eyes stopped again, right at your mouth where you were still sucking on his thumb. You felt like he needed a little push, so you grabbed his arm with both of your hands, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and pulling two of his fingers in. You looked him in the eye as you ran your tongue under them and sucked.

It was just then when he got the most vile smirk on his face. The most emotion you’d seen him show thus far, aside from that little outburst when you had dared to call his precious work chloroform.

He leaned in closer to your face. “You want me to touch you?” His voice was so smug you wanted to rip out his vocal cords. It was his fault you were even like this, even if it was apparently an accident.

Your hatred showed on your face and he was just eating it up. “You do don’t you?” You kept your mouth around his fingers, not wanting to give him what he wanted. Yes, you would entice him but you drew the line at verbally begging him to fuck you.

“Not going to talk, huh?” He pulled his hand away from your mouth, moving it to grab a strand of your hair. “Let’s try a little experiment then.” He said, letting your hair slip out of his fingers.

He let his fingers lightly run over the skin of your neck, causing your whole body to jolt and shiver. Your panting got louder. You grabbed his hand, holding it in yours.

“Hmm. How interesting.” He sounded way too smug.

“Fix whatever you did to me.” You squeezed his hand tighter.

“Nothing intentional, since that’s what you’re implying.” His teal eyes met yours, and you could see the lust growing in him. “You just seem to be having an interesting reaction to the drug.”

He suddenly grabbed your face, tilting your chin up to look at you again. “But you’re being quite demanding aren’t you? What makes you think you deserve to be touched?”

You were so desperate at this point, writhing around on his table. “Please…” your voice sounded whiny and pathetic. “Please just help me.”

“Aww, that’s better.” He squeezed your face a little harder before letting go, turning to the table next to him and grabbing a pair of scissors.

“Wait…!” You practically screamed, bracing for the blades coming your way.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t you?” He said as he cut through the fabric of your shirt. “Spare me the dramatics.”

Once your shirt was fully cut open in the front, he pulled the remainder of the fabric off of you, leaving you in just a bra.

He cupped his hands over your breasts. “Aww, this is cute. I’ll let you keep this for now.” He picked up the scissors again and cut through your bottoms, leaving your panties intact.

He trailed his hand down your body, his cold fingers making you shiver once again. He suddenly hooked his fingers into your panties and yanked them down. They were already so soaked there was a line of your arousal still connected to them. “No resistance? Wow, I guess you really are that desperate.”

If only he would shut the fuck up this would be perfect. He was being so annoying, but you had to keep your mouth shut, can’t give him a reason to be even more of a dick.

He pushed your legs apart, your arousal clinging to your thighs, a sticky mess all stemming from your aching cunt. He was completely entranced by it. “Fuck…” He cursed under his breath before letting his eyes drift back to yours. Your hips bucked up, shamelessly wanting him to just touch you already.

“Ohhhhh, you need it bad, don’t you, darling?” The use of a pet name was only scornful coming from his lips. He was taunting you, trying to make this more humiliating than it already was. However, it was becoming increasingly clear that his own control was waning. Maybe… just a little bit more enticement from your end and you could get him to snap and give you what you really wanted.

But you sure as hell still weren’t going to beg him… more than you already had. You slowly ran your hand down your body, along your curves and toward your cunt. Just as you got past your stomach, he grabbed your hand, slamming your wrist down onto the table above you.

“You’re that desperate you’ll touch yourself right in front of me?” He asked rhetorically, not even giving you a chance to answer. “That’s the most pathetic display I think I’ve seen in a while. I kind of want to take pity on you.”

His free hand snaked down to your cunt, just barely brushing over your clit. Your hips immediately bucked up and you let out a strangled whine. Just that tiny touch sent electricity all throughout your body.

He was entranced by your reaction to his touch. “Tell me, are you always this sensitive, or are you really that affected by the drug?”

Your brain was already going hazy, so you didn’t hesitate to answer him. “I��m not… usually like this.”

He brushed his fingers over your clit again, this time with just a bit more pressure, but still not nearly enough to sate you. You let out another needy whine.

“Amazing. It’s like you’re in heat.” He was becoming increasingly satisfied with the drug’s effects on you.

“I just know my fingers are gonna slide in your sopping wet cunt easily.” He pushed two long slender fingers into your cunt, as deeply as he could.

You arched off the table, hips bucking to try to feel him even deeper. “Fuck….!” You moaned out. You could feel every inch of his fingers against the inside of your cunt. Even without moving it was driving you crazy, the drug was making it feel so fucking good.

He let out a low groan, loving the way you were squeezing around his fingers already. “You fucking love this don’t you? Huh?”

“C’mon, tell me how much you love it.” His eyes suddenly went dark. “Tell me you fucking love it or I’m not moving my fingers.”

You could barely register what he was saying, your head already going fuzzy just from having his fingers inside. “I… love it…” you managed to breathe out.

“Oh, that wasn’t very convincing.” He started moving his fingers at an unbearably slow pace. “You’ll have to beg with a little more conviction than that if you want it.”

He was barely moving his fingers at all, and yet it felt so fucking good you had to bite your lip as hard as you could to keep from moaning loud enough for the entire country to hear.

Each stroke of his fingers was making you tighten more and more. Your arousal dripping out of you and onto the table, making obscene gushing noises each time he pushed his fingers back in.

“Faster…” you whimpered, feeling miserably pathetic. “I need it…”

He grabbed your face, tilting it upwards. “Still so demanding. You think you deserve this? You think you deserve me fucking you with my fingers?”

He stopped his fingers entirely, and yet just the feel of them inside you was causing your stomach to tighten, electricity shooting through your body, all to one place.

The pressure built and built, not even giving you time to say anything before you were already convulsing around his fingers, your cunt buzzing with pleasure. It was harder than you had ever come before. It felt like you were coming in slow motion, squeezing him hard and long each time your cunt convulsed.

He groaned when he felt you squeezing around his fingers. He couldn’t even come up with a way to taunt you. All of his attention was redirected to how tight his pants felt and the way his cock throbbed harder and harder each time your muscles tightened.

He was completely enraptured by you. Consumed with the need to touch you, to make you writhe and moan and bend to his will. He was already aching to fuck you but he knew he couldn’t give into his desires too soon. It would be a waste. He needed to know more about the drug’s effects. He needed to test it. He was way too into this, his only way to justify it was to call it an experiment.

“I didn’t even move my fingers and you came?” He was laughing, in awe of how easy that was. He was impressed with himself for making a drug that was able to affect you this much. Even if it was by accident.

You were still reeling, because, well he still hadn’t removed his fingers from you.

He got an evil smile on his face, downright diabolical. Your eyes widened a bit in fear. Whatever he was thinking it couldn’t be good.

“Surely, you understand. I made this drug by accident but…” he took a long pause, purposefully keeping you in suspense, drinking in the fear in your eyes. “It would be a waste to not test all the effects of the drug. I’ll need to collect as much data as possible.”

Without removing his fingers from you, he brought his thumb up to press on your clit. Your body jolted, back arched and trying to cling at anything under you, only for your hands to scramble at the cold table below you.

“So reactive.” He purred, starting to rub your clit in tight circles while he slowly pushed his fingers in and out. “Such a good whore.”

Your cunt twitched when you heard his words, already wanting to come again, craving it more than anything else.

“Oh, you liked that did you?” He leaned down, getting closer to your face again. “You like being called a whore.”

All you could do was shake your head, biting your lip hard enough to make it bleed to avoid moaning for him.

“No?” His voice was mocking. “You don’t like it? You don’t like being called a whore?” He started pounding your pussy with his fingers. “You don’t like it when I talk to you like the dirty fucking slut you are?”

Your stomach was tightening again. You could try to deny it verbally all you wanted, but each time he called you a whore you got closer and closer to the edge until you broke again. It felt so good, too good even. You felt like you were losing your mind.

He could feel you coming again, but he didn’t stop. He wanted to see just how far he could push you. What would your reaction be? Would you break and beg him to fuck you? Would you have tears running down your pretty face as you spread your legs wide for him?

“I can tell you’re coming again. You still wanna act like you don’t like being called a whore?”

You weakly gripped his arm that was pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. “Please…. I can’t stop-”

“I don’t care that you can’t stop coming. Be honest. You like being called a whore.”

You shook your head again, a strangled moan escaping you when he pressed on your clit even harder. “Yeah, you like it. Nod your head and admit you like being called a whore. Nod your pretty little head.”

You began to nod your head weakly.

“That’s it. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He shoved your bra up with his free hand, wasting no time latching onto your nipple and sucking hard. All the while, he was still moving his fingers.

Somehow it felt even better, and you wanted him to never stop. The feeling was addictive. Your body felt so different than usual. You were insatiable.

“Fuck…! Sso good…” your words started slurring, your brain feeling fuzzy. You were like a fountain, each thrust of his fingers causing more of your arousal to spill out of you.

He let go of your chest to wrap his hand around your neck. “You’re hopeless, you know that? Just a pathetic, helpless little girl who can’t help but get wetter and wetter. Cause I’m fucking you with my fingers, isn’t that right?”

You started to choke and gasp for air, but it only made your cunt tingle.

“I could fucking kill you right now. Do you get that? Do you even have a brain up there in that pretty little head?” His sharp eyes bore into your glazed ones, trying to fight from rolling them back.

“Don’t…. sstop.” You moaned out in a choked voice.

He laughed in amazement at your state. “Is this all you care about?” He said, pushing against your g-spot extra hard. “You don’t even care if I kill you.”

He was being so cruel, so awful, and yet it only felt better and better. A huge orgasm finally hit you and you felt a gushing heat release from you.

Watching you come so hard from being choked and threatened made his cock throb, a screaming reminder of how painfully hard he was. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He quickly unbuckled his belt, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. You eyed him while he pulled out his cock, dripping onto the table in anticipation.

You found yourself craving the cock of the guy who kidnapped you. More than you’ve ever craved anything before. Consequences be damned. You needed this.

He needed it too. You could see it on his face, just how worked up you were making him. It made you want him even more.

He ran his hot hard cock up your slit, coating himself in your wetness. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his groan. He ran it over your clit a few times just to tease you before pushing into your entrance.

He took a deep breath, pushing in slowly. Your cunt was sucking him in and it felt so good, but he didn’t want you to realize how much you were affecting him.

Meanwhile, the stretch of him was putting you into a state of euphoria. You could feel his thick cock throbbing inside of you.

He pulled back slowly, letting you feel every inch leave and the emptiness that followed. It only lasted for a split second before he rammed back into you, setting a brutal pace.

You spread your legs wider, addicted to the feeling. You’d already came so many times and yet you weren’t satisfied. You needed it again.

Your body was starting to tense, quickly gaining the feeling again.

“Are you about to come already?” He asked aggressively, while you were completely fucked out, only able to focus on the feeling of his cock. “Hey.” He growled out, his voice sounding low and gritty. “Don’t you dare come again, you’ve came enough.”

You whimpered, knowing that he was fully serious. “What?” You whined. “But- I can’t- I just-” There were tears brimming in your eyes. “Please?” Your voice became whinier as you frantically tried to get permission.

“Look at me.” He demanded. “I control when you come. Understand? You only come when I allow you to.”

You tried. You really did. But his cock was hitting just the right spot, over and over. “Please. Please just let me-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as your orgasm washed over you.

He felt you tightening around him, reveling in the feeling as he stopped moving. However, he was angry. Pissed even. You weren’t able to follow even the simplest of instructions.

He pulled out, yanking you up and pushing you to your knees on the floor. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you. “You think you just get to come whenever you want? You think just because you’re a little pretty I’ll go easy on you?”

He spoke again before you could even try to explain yourself. “You’re no better than a fucking animal.”

He pressed down on your lower lip. “Open.” His authoritative tone left no room for disobedience. You obliged, taking his cock in your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded.

You could taste yourself on his cock as you started bobbing your head. It was humiliating and yet… you were only getting wetter, dripping onto the floor. He was right, you were acting like an animal.

“Does sucking my cock make you that wet?” He laced his fingers into your hair, forcing you down on his cock. “Fuck… you look so good.”

You gagged on his cock, tears brimming in your eyes but you still made eye contact with him. “You’re acting like a perfect little slut right now.”

“Do you wanna come?” He taunted. “Why don’t you use your own fingers? Slide your little fingers into your cunt while you choke on my cock.”

You hesitated, not sure if he was really going to let you. Your fingers lightly brushed over your clit, causing you to moan on his cock. You needed to come.

“Yeah, fuck yourself with your fingers.” He encouraged. “Make yourself come while you suck me off. You have my permission.”

You filled yourself with your fingers, moaning when you hit your g-spot. Your fingers weren’t as long and thick as his, but it would have to do.

He groaned when you moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him shiver.

He was fucking your throat at this point, his tight grip in your hair almost as painful as his cock hitting the back of your throat, but you could barely feel it. The pain was insignificant compared to the way your cunt was tingling. Both your drool and your arousal were dripping onto the floor.

“Look at how messy you are.” He laughed. “You look like such a whore right now.”

You kept pumping your fingers into your pussy hard, desperate to come again.

“C’mon you can do better than that. Show me how much you want it. Grind your little pussy on your hand and come.” You obeyed, bucking your hips forward to reach deeper inside yourself.

With his permission, you released around your fingers. He pulled out of your mouth, getting too close to coming himself.

“You thought you could make me come in your mouth?” He pulled you back up onto the table. “If I’m coming anywhere, it’ll be inside your cute little cunt.” He pushed inside of you with no warning.

“That’s what you want isn’t it? You want me to come inside your pathetic pussy? You want me to make a mess out of you?” He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Nod your head. You answer when I ask you a question.”

You nodded your head, your cunt becoming numb with pleasure. Your head felt like TV static as he pounded you again.

“You want me to use you huh? This is what you want. You want me to fucking break you.” He kept rambling on. “Look at your dumb fucking face. You’re so fucking pathetic.”

You had but a moment of sentience. Enough to try to say anything to put him in his place. “Well what- fuck….! ….about you? You’re not even on a drug.” You panted heavily in between your words. “You’re fucking me because you want to.”

He slapped you across the face. “Shut your whore mouth.” The look in his eyes alone was enough to make you wish you were dead.

Your bones chilled like ice and you remembered why you should fear this man.

He gripped your throat, his eyes piercing into your very soul. “You think I like this as much as you do? You think I need this as much as you do?”

You were stunned to silence, only able to make sounds of pleasure.

“You think you can manipulate me like this? You think this will make me want to let you go?” His cock was slamming into you hard. “I will never. Fucking. Let. You. Go.” Each word was punctuated with his cock pounding into you.

“You’ve given me a new obsession I hope you know.” He was sounding more and more insane as he went on. “I’m going to keep you and test more of these on you over and over until you fucking break.��

“Ahh, fuck, you wrap around me so good.” He growled. “You’re gonna make me fucking come inside you.”

You were so high off his cock that really anything he was saying to you was just noise to you. Nothing else really mattered if you could get him to keep fucking you.

“Kiss me…”

“You want a kiss? That’s all you want?” He leaned down, joining his lips with yours as he fucked you at a slow steady pace. His tongue intertwined with yours sloppily.

He pulled away after a few moments, panting heavily. His thrusts were getting erratic and you knew he was close to coming.

“God… your fucking cunt is perfect.” He buried his face in your neck, his voice cracking as he pulled your body closer to his, your chests pressing against each other.

“Come for me again. Be my good girl. Please.” He almost whimpered, your cunt already milking his cock, begging for his cum.

He bit down on your neck as he came inside, making a mess of your cunt.

It was only then, that with him panting on top of you, holding you close, that you finally felt satisfied.

—

You were sitting in the lab, curled up contently in the corner. It’s where you spent most of your time these days. There were other places to go but why would you want to be anywhere where Cody wasn’t?

Plus, he didn’t really mind it. You were his precious lab assistant after all.

You tried to keep up with what he was working on, but most of the time his thoughts were a little too all over the place to follow. So you were happy with just being in each other’s presence, occasionally glancing up to watch him work on his projects.

He suddenly stood up, catching your attention. He turned towards you with a telling smile on his face.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“Is that why you’ve been up for days?” You asked. He had the tendency to get a little too invested in this work, skipping regular meals and sleeping.

He dodged the question, pulling out his latest creation. “This time, it’s a pill. Since you always complain about the needle.”

You stuck your tongue out, eagerly waiting for him to give it to you. He smiled at you, placing it on his tongue and connecting his lips with yours.

You swallowed the pill, already eager about its effects.

He towered over where you were sitting, lifting your chin up. “Let’s get started.”

Like okay MEOW like I made him so sassyyyy what. Like when I was going back and editing this I was like omg Cody stopppppppp~ He's very different from any of the other characters, like I feel like he's not quite as impulsive as Jeff or Toby so he wouldn't like immediately try to fuck you. Like this man would have every intent to kill you. That's why it was so fun to write him slowly devolving and losing control like I had the time of my life with this one.

Feel free to leave me feedback/constructive criticism in the comments! I always love seeing people's thoughts!

~pls remember to distinguish fiction from reality

[lyjen]

Duty calls

Summary: A sergeant and Evan keep on running in to each other but their conversation always gets cut off.

A/N: English is not my first language so don’t hate on me lmfao. Also just thought this was a cute story ish. Enjoy!

Next Part >> | 9-1-1 Masterlist

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Just as (Y/n) steps out of the door with her usual coffee order, a car smashed into the side of an other car. The collision happened right in front of her eyes. She immediately drops her coffee to the ground, and she runs on to the scene. “Dispatch this is 442-L23, I need an RA unit on the corner of West 9th street and south olive street. I have a two car collision.” (Y/n) speaks into her walkie.

(Y/n) gets to the car of the person who crashed into the other car. The window of the car was opened when it crashed. “Sir are you okay?” The man stares forward, and after a few seconds he turns towards (Y/n). The man was clearly in shock. “Are you in any pain?” She asks while she quickly inspects the man. The man shakes his head as a sign for “no”. But if the man was really in shock, then he wouldn’t be able to feel the pain. “Sir I need you to sit still, and stay where you are. The fire department is on their way, they will assist you getting out of the car.”

Due to the crash, the door of the drivers side got an impact which made the door unable to open without heavy equipment. She pointed to a bystander, watching from the sidewalk. “You. Come here, and keep this man talking.” she needed to get to the other victim in the other car, but needed the driver to stay conscious. And the best way to do that, was keep him talking. The man fastened towards the car and nodded as an answer to her order she gave him. While the man kept standing at the window with the driver.

Y/n hurries to the second car, which was in much badder shape. (Y/n) saw that the driver of the second car was a young woman. Due to the impact of the crash a large piece of glass had gotten itself free of the window and landed in the neck of the woman.

“Ma’am are you alright?” (Y/n) asks while she tries to get to the window of the woman. The woman touches her neck. “I have to get to my mom” she says, starting to panic. “Ma’am do not tou-“ before (Y/n) could finish her sentence, the woman pulled out the large piece of glass and a wave of blood came out of the wound. The woman screamed out an ear deafening scream.

“Shit, shit, shit!!” (Y/n) hurried to the passenger door, opens it and gets in the car next to the woman. While getting in the car, she feels a few pieces of glass lightly scraping her hand. But she didn’t care, all she cared about was helping the woman who was basically bleeding to death in front of her.

She puts her knee as support on the passenger seat, “okay ma’am I’m not gonna lie. This is gonna hurt like hell.” And with that said she pushes both of her hands on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, the woman screams out but gets used to the amount of pressure (Y/n) put on the wound.

“What’s your name?” (Y/n) asked, trying to take slow breaths to keep herself calm. (Y/n) knew she had to keep the woman conscious, so she asked the most simple question she could think of. “Liv” the woman the woman spoke softly between the sobs. “Okay Liv, my name is (Y/n), help is on the way. You’re gonna be okay. Just keep breathing.” She tried to calm the young woman down. Tears kept streaming down the woman’s face. “So you were on your way to see your mom?” she asked. Liv tried to nod, “We were supposed to go shopping.” She says through her sobs.

In the distance (Y/n) could hear the fire truck sirens and ambulance. Just trying to keep Liv conscious, (Y/n) asked “where were you planning on going shopping?” “We were going to the mall, shopping for some decorations for my dorm room.” She told her, gasping for breaths. (Y/n) also noticed the woman had trouble with keeping her eyes open.

(Y/n) was so focused on the woman, that she didn’t noticed the LAFD were already on scene. One of the firefighters got in the back of the car, so they could give Liv the help they needed. (Y/n) kept pressure on the wound like she did from the first second.

“Woman around 20 years old, name is Liv. A piece of glass from the window broke off and got stuck in her neck. And I think because of the shock, she pulled it out. It started bleeding like crazy.” (Y/n) spoke to the firefighter in the backseat. “Sounds like the glass hit her artery. How long have you been putting pressure on the wound?” The female firefighter asked while she went through the medic bag beside her. “About like three minutes I guess.” (Y/n) answered.

“Ma’am I’m Hen, I’m with the LAFD.” She said to Liv, the victim who was still conscious but could go out any second. Liv hummed a small okay. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Keep pressure on the wound, on the count of three you let go, and I will take over from you. Then you get out of the car and one of my colleagues will assist me further.” Hen said. (Y/n) nodded. “One.. two.. three..” (Y/n) let go of the wound and not even after a half a second Hen’s hands were putting pressure on the wound. (Y/n) got out of the car as fast as possible. She wouldn’t want to be the one to hold them up doing their job. As (Y/n) stepped aside, an other firefighter took (Y/n)’s position in front of the car while they worked on Liv.

(Y/n) walked a few meters away from the car. Leaning her back against the wall, to come to her senses. She sighed, and took a few deep breaths. “Hey, are you okay?” A voice asked. She looked to her left to see a firefighter walking towards her. Slowly. She nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine… just a little bit of blood.” (Y/n) said softly. Her trembling hands were covered in blood from the woman, with a few other cuts she didn’t noticed before. That must have happened when she entered the car in such a hurry. “Can I take a look at that?” He asked carefully, while he pointed at her hands. (Y/n)’s face was doubtful, she wanted to say no, because there are people out there who might need the care more than she did herself. That was typically (Y/n), always putting other’s needs first. “I’m specialised at scratches.” He continued, trying to convince her. She sighed, and nodded.

The firefighter put the medic bag he had hung over his shoulder on the ground. He started to get some gauze out and a bottle with a little spray head. As he stood up, he smiled at her and he started carefully to clean the wounds on her hand. “I don’t know how I didn’t noticed I’ve cut my own damn’ hand.” (Y/n)’s voice speaks, while she hissed at the staining feeling she got while the firefighter was cleaning the wound. He grinned, “There was so much going on… you were alone, in the moment and full of adrenaline. Of course it can happen that something slipped your mind.“ The guy says with a worried look spread on his face. (Y/n) was looking at the scene, the other firefighters of the team were trying to get Liv free. “But right now, all that matters is that you’ve saved that woman’s life with these two hands.” He continued, while pointing at Liv, the girl who was finally getting pulled out of the car. (Y/n) smiled slightly at his comment, and stayed silent.

“You know, i don’t think we’ve ever met before.” He says after a few moments of silence. He looked at (Y/n) with a small smile, trying to wrap up the hand with the few cuts. (Y/n) didn’t know what to say, “No… I don’t think so…” she says, unsure what to say. “I’m Evan, but people call me Buck.” he says to her with a reassuring smile, while he finished wrapping up her hand. “(Y/n)”.

“Buck come on let’s go!” A voice roared over the scene. “That’s my cue to leave.” The firefighter says, while he closes the medic bag. “Well.. Evan… thank you for the pep talk. And this.” (Y/n)’s voice speaks while motioning with her hands. A smile spreads across Buck’s face while he swings the medic bag over his shoulder. “Please, call me Buck. And no problem, us first responders should be there for each other.. right?” Evan says.

“Buck! Let’s go!” An impatient voice yelled now, while the horn of the fire truck sounded through the streets. Probably to get Evan’s attention. “Coming!” He yelled back slightly irritated. He turned his head back to (Y/n). “I’m sorry. Duty calls.” He says. And he jogged towards the fire truck, while halfway he turns towards (Y/n) so he was basically jogging backwards. “It’s was nice to meet you sergeant” He yelled, trying to get above the sounds of the LA streets. She wanted to say that it was nice to meet him too. But before she could do that, he was already climbing into the rig. All she could do was smile, and get back to her work.

…………………………………………………………………………….

A few days later, (Y/n) stepped through the doors of the hospital to go to the emergency room. There was a robber who got shot in the chest by a store owner. She was here to make up a police report and to make sure the man didn’t make a run for it.

As she walks towards the desk where one of the nurses was sitting down. She greeted the nurse and told her for who she was coming for. The nurse nodded and told her to wait for a few moments, she had to check with someone else of the status from that patient.

As (Y/n) waited and watched a few people walk in and out of the emergency room. As she hears the sliding doors of the ER open again, with lots of people walking through it. She turns her head, and sees a few paramedics and firefighters enter through the doors. A loud voice filled the room with the voice of a man “Unknown male, around 50 years old, BP is…-“ the words, along with the medical terms the paramedic was calling out seem to fade. When her eyes meet his.

He smiles and walks towards (Y/n), while he for a second looks at the ground and back at her. His face was covered in ashes. He has his florescent jacket in his right hand. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” were the first words to leave Evan’s mouth. She laughs, while fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m only here to write a report.” is the only thing she can seem to bring out with words. A small laugh left Evan’s lips.

He pointed at her hands, “How are your hands?” He asked, trying to change the subject. It was a weird question to ask, especially if people didn’t knew the context of it.

She smiled and put her hands up, so she could show him. “Like you said, you are specialised in scratches.” He smiled. “Oh they look great!” He says as he grabbed one of her hands and pulled it a little closer so he could get a good look. (Y/n) was a little surprised by the touch of the firefighter.

“And how was your call?” She asks him this time. He wasn’t at the hospital by coincidence. He was here for a reason, because a few moments earlier they wheeled a patient in.

He took his eyes of (Y/n)’s hand. But kept his hand cupped underneath hers, with her palm up. “Just a house fire” he smiled at her, like it was nothing new. While his other hand fingers wandered over the scratches of her hand. And she just nodded. Unsure what to answer to that.

“Ma’am?” The nurse called her. “The gun shot wound patient is in bay 14” she continued as (Y/n) looked at her. She nodded “Thank you”.

“Well, duty calls.” (Y/n) spoke, as she was slowly backing up entering the ER. But still facing Evan. “Guess we’re even now! Last time it was me, now it’s you.”

All she could do was smile and roll her eyes.

“See you later?” Was the only thing he said with an hopeful smile.

“Yeah, see you later.” (Y/n) gave him a small smile, and turned around. And walked away.

Evan felt his smile grow wider and a spark of warmth go through his body.

A hand landed on his shoulder, as he turned his face to the right he could see Eddie smiling and shaking his head.

“What?” Evan spoke, stating that he didn’t do anything.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Sitting on a chair at the bar, (Y/n) leaned with her right elbow on the bar. Fidgeting with the empty glass in her hands.

After a day on the job, you always need a place where you can come to yourself. She was here all alone. Because that’s what she needed. But she wouldn’t want to be alone at home. It was hard to explain.

She can see in the corner of her eye, that someone took place on her right side. “You couldn’t stay away from me, couldn’t you?” A familiar voice asked.

Still fidgeting with the glass in her hand on the bar, she smiled and feels her cheeks flushing. “Technically, you’re the one who keeps coming to me.” (Y/n) says, while her eyes remained on the glass she was touching.

“I was the first in that collision scene, and the first at the hospital when you wheeled that patient in. And I also think that you were the one who came sitting next to me just a second ago.” She continued. She smiled as she looked to her right. Evan held his hands up in defence. “Okay you got me there sergeant” he says. And he smiled. While he looked her in the eyes. Those beautiful sparkling eyes.

“But why are you in a firefighter bar then?” He smirked. Yeah. How was she going to explain that.

Her eyes drew the attention of a man who was closely walking past people and reaching out next to them. The guy was stealing money. “What the fuck” she whispered. Evan’s face got to a confused look. (Y/n) got up from her chair. “Hold that thought” (Y/n) said and she walked towards the guy.

Just as the guy tries to put out his hand and to steal from another person, (Y/n)’s hand touches the man’s shoulder. “You’re under arrest.” Is the only thing she says. The man reaches his arm out to hit her, but she ducked. She locks the man’s arm, put it behind his back and pushes him down on the table with all her strength.

A crowd starts to form around her, while she puts the man in handcuffs. She sees Evan staring in disbelief. She gave Evan a glance.

“Duty calls” she said.

Why is it always that, when they have a conversation duty calls.

[canadianfangirl-95]

We gotta work this out 

Pedro Pascal x f!reader 

Summary: Pedro looks extra delicious in his workout gear and newly toned muscles. You take up the opportunity to torture him a bit and get some much-needed discipline.  

Or; Pedro fucks you in your home gym because he’s trying to work out and you can’t stop teasing him.  

Warnings; Look up back extensions on ab bench and you’ll understand my thought process. Smut, Minors DNI, 18+, age gap relationship, dirty talk, swearing, fingering, PIV, spanking, multiple orgasms, sex on exercise equipment. No thoughts, just that fucking bicep picture. 

Word count 2600

Pedro has only been back from New York for a few weeks and will be leaving to film in London soon enough. This is the first year your non-profit is going through tax season, so you’ve been chained to your desk and unable to travel with him until later in the Spring. When he is home, he’s busy with meetings, script work and working out. Working out. Ugh, that seems to be the biggest pain in your butt. It’s bad enough you barely have time with your husband right now, but he also has to look so damn good as he’s prepping for Avengers.  

Every day that he saunters into the kitchen, grabs his green juice in his t-shirt, gym shorts, socks hiked far too high up his strong calves and running shoes before patting down the steps into the basement home gym, leaves your mouth watering. Your eyes trailing behind him desperate to take a bite into his bulging bicep. With all the extra energy burning he’s doing in the gym; it leaves him too tired for some extracurricular activities in the evening. It’s not his fault, you think, you knew this may happen when marrying an older man.  

A girl gets desperate at times like this though, and you decide to take matters into your own hands. Once you’re dressed in a tight sports bra that accentuates your breasts, light grey  gym spandex shorts and your running shoes, you bounce down the steps with a sly grin on your face.  

Pushing the door open, you’re immediately greeted with the sound of Purple Rain by Prince blasting through the overhead speakers. The erotic groans coming from the far wall draw your attention immediately and you’re just in time to catch him as he pushes a set of weights across the mat. The sleeves on his black t-shirt are rolled up and his biceps glisten with sweat and use. Your eyes dilate as you take in his fit form and you do your best to settle yourself before skipping over.  

Pedro wipes his damp brow with the back of his hand before noticing you striding towards him. His mouth curls slightly at the sight of you in your workout gear, “Hey baby, what’re you doin’ in here?” He asks, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you in with one arm to place a chaste kiss to your temple.  

You place your hands on his sweaty chest as you keen at his embrace. “Oh just, wanted to get a workout in, if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, drawing a tiny circle on his chest and eyeing him with the sweetest doe eyes you can muster.  

He eyes you for a moment before his eyebrows raise, realizing your proposition. “Baby,” he begins, shaking his head but pulling you closer towards him. “I’m sorry but I gotta finish this session. Jason’s all over about me about making weight before I leave for London.” 

“I know, I know.” You say shyly, “I’m not here to distract you.”  

Pedro looks at you suspiciously, “You’re not?” 

Shaking your head, you bite your bottom lip. “Nope, just here to stretch and get some exercising done. Swear.” You say with a smile, holding your pinky out for him.  

He pulls his mouth into that twisted half smirk that gets you every time, looking down at your pinky dangling in the air. “Good, no reason we can’t share the space.” He raises his hand and interlocks his pinky with yours. “No funny business missy.”  

Raising your hands up in the air in mock surrender, you step back and walk over to the mats on the other side of the room. He watches the way your hips sway as you walk, and he mutters under his breath. “Just here to workout my ass.” Before returning to his weights.  

You sit down on the mat and grab your phone, taking over the overhead speaker and turning on your favourite sexy time playlist. Side to Side by Ariana Grande booms over the speaker and Pedro stills in his spot to glance at you, recognizing the song immediately. You shrug and holler over, “Helps me get my body really fluid, and moving you know.” He shakes his head, and you wink before turning back to your phone.  

He finishes pushing the weights and begins to collect them off the dolly, lifting them effortlessly to place back on the racking system. He spares a glance in your direction; you’re standing with your legs stretched as apart as they can go and leaning forward to stretch. He stares at the way your ass looks in those damn shorts and bites his lip. “Fuck me.” He quickly shakes the obscene thoughts from his head to focus on what he needs to do next so he can quickly finish his session and go for a very cold shower.  

Grabbing his hand weights, he goes to stand in front of one of the walls of mirrors, curling the weights upwards, his biceps bulging with each movement. He takes a deep breath in as he wonders what you’re up to now. He figures a quick glance can’t hurt so he lifts his eyes to spy on you through the mirror. You’re turned facing his back on the mat now. Legs spread open in a butterfly with your eyes closed, deeply breathing and focusing on trying to push your legs further open with your hands. Your chest rises and falls dramatically with each deep breath as you push through the pain.  

The weights in his hands suddenly feel 20 pounds heavier and they dangle as he sucks his teeth. “That girl’s gonna be the death of me.” He says, shaking his head and shifting his weight, picking a random ceiling tile to stare at as he finishes his set and tries to ignore the bulge that is slowly forming in his bright blue shorts.  

Pedro finishes his weightlifting and grabs his green juice before moving to the treadmill to do his run. He gets onto the machine and amps up the speed. Jogging, he hears the undeniable sound of you moaning. He looks over in your direction and sees you at the ab extension bench. You’re leaning over, your legs locked in as you lean over the top of it. Your ass raising higher in the air as your body goes down, an illicit moan escapes your lips as your body comes back up again. His Adams apple bobs as he takes a large gulp, his attention is drawn enough for him to falter and stumble on the treadmill, muttering a curse as he quickly grabs hold of the side rails and stretches his feet onto the landings on either side of the track.  

He takes a deep breath as he stops the machine to give him a moment to settle, before glancing up one more time at your position. You lean forward again and a lump forms in his throat as he spots a damp spot on your shorts, right at the heart of your core. There’s no way you’ve been working out hard enough to develop a sweat with all the teasing you’ve done, so there’s only one thing that could cause a build up of dampness in his favourite spot in the world.  

“Fuck it.” He mutters before jumping off the treadmill and stomping in your direction. He is a man, but not a strong man, not when it comes to you. He’ll take the tongue lashing from Jason if it means he gets a few moments of reprieve with his wife. You’re still in a downwards position when he comes up behind you, you barely catch a glimpse of his lustful look in the mirror as you arch back up before his strong hand finds the middle of your back and pushes you back down. “Ugh, babe!” You let out a huff as you brace yourself facing down on the bench.  

His hand moves smoothly up and down your back as he tsks at you, “Don’t give me any of that. You’ve been teasing me all this time, getting you and myself all worked up. Can’t you feel what you do to me baby.” He says, his voice cool as ice as he presses his growing bulge into your ass. You whimper at the sensation of him being so close to where you want. You peak up at the mirror in front of you and your eyes lock. There’s nothing but darkness in his as he continues to rub up and down your spine.  

“You came down here, wanting me to fuck you isn’t that right.” Pedro hums.  

Taking a deep breath, you nod shakily.  

“Words, admit what you did.” He says, shaking his head.  

“Fuck,” you whisper, “yes. Fuck, I’ve just missed you so much and I missed your cock and fuck, baby I just need you so bad.” You stammer, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate to feel him on you.  

“Sh, sh.” He begins, his hand travelling further down to cup one of your ass cheeks. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His hands grab the top of your shorts and he swiftly drags them down to rest halfway down your thighs. He smirks as you moan at the sudden feeling of the hot air against your bare core. “Knew it.” Pedro whispers. Bringing his hand up, his fingers gently trace along your wet lips, and you groan. “I know you’re ready for me baby, always are, but I wanna have a little fun. Just keep your head down for me.”  

Before you can question him, one of his thick fingers breaks through your hole and plunges deep. You jolt forward slightly and bite your lip, your pussy clenching around the digit already. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, rubbing your ass and lower back with his other hand. Just as you adjusted to the curl and depth of his finger, he inserts another.  

His fingers are thicker than any other man you’ve ever been with, and the stretch makes your lip quiver every time. “Fuuuuck.” You groan as you tuck your head down against the cool material of the bench. The contact against your forehead gives you a distraction long enough to let you catch your breath, so you don’t drench his fingers so quickly.  

Pedro clicks his tongue, “Don’t hold out on me, I need this as much as you do. Just, let go.” With that, a third finger fills your tiny hole, and you can’t contain yourself any longer as he pumps you senseless with his fingers. You feel the tightness and blissful feeling wash over you as your walls clench around his fingers and gush around his hand. Your head flies up and you open your eyes just enough to see the way to stares at your pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm. He finally pulls out of you with a flick of his fingers, to send one final squirt out of your tense hole and onto his shorts. You let out a breath of relief as your body settles post-orgasm.  

“That’s my girl.” He whispers, taking the top of his shorts and boxers and shoving down to rest below his heavy balls.  

You wait, knowing what’s about to happen. He lines up with your dripping center and in one fell swoop, buries himself inside you to the base. You both moan at the righteous feeling of being together again as man and wife. His size never ceases to amaze you as even the stretch from his three fingers was barely able to prepare you for his cock. Catching each other’s eyes in the mirror again, you nod and bite your lip. He smirks and begins pulling out and slamming back into you. Your body jolts forward bent over on the bench with each deep and aching thrust. His hands grip your hips as he focuses on fucking you as hard and fast as he can.  

“Fuck, you always take me so well baby.” He says, his hand raises up and strikes your right ass cheek swiftly. You let out a whimper at the pain but your pussy clenches around him. “You like that?” He asks (he knows you do), before smacking it again. He reveals in the way your skin bounces with each contact. “I’m not gonna last much longer baby, haven’t cum in days.” He moans as he feels you begin to tighten on his pulsing member.  

A few more thrusts and he presses his full body weight onto you, releasing inside you. The swell of his cock inside your already sensitive and fucked out core throws you into your second orgasm. Holding your breath as you tense up, you look up at the mirror and nearly drool at the fucked-out expression on his face. His dark eyes find yours again and he quickly grabs your ribs and hauls your body up, holding you up with his sweaty chest against your back, his bicep curling around your throat with his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Your hands flail up and grab hold of his bulging arm as he continues to shallowly thrust into you. The sensation is so overwhelming you feel the need to scream, so you quickly lean your face forward and bite down gently on his muscle to calm yourself and stop the squail that is sure to erupt from your throat as you finally come down from your intense high.  

Your jaw releases his skin, leaving a red mark. Your tongue tastes of his sweat and your breathing is as laboured as his as he steady’s you as you try to find your footing again. The unmistakable tell of your dirty actions begins to slide down your leg from your aching core. Pedro coughs quietly into his hand, before stepping to the side and grabbing a sweat towel. He kneels down onto his knee as you brace yourself on the bench in front you. He calmly wipes your legs clean, the cloth travels up your thighs and you shudder as it makes contact with your lips to clean them as well. Once satisfied, he grabs your shorts and pulls them up your clammy thighs back into position.  

Turning to face him, you smile. “Well, that was, needed.” You grin deviously. 

Shaking his head, he places his hands on his hips, “You can say that.” He winks and steps back.  

Biting your lip, you say. “I guess you gotta get back to your session.” A touch of disappointment lacing your words.  

Pedro looks at your eyes and then away momentarily, “Nah.” He starts, your head snaps up in attention. “I was actually thinking of taking a shower.” He eyes you lovingly with that damn smirk, before saying, “Was wondering if my wife could join me. Looks like we both worked up quite a sweat.”  

Your eyes glisten as you take his extended hand and follow him up the stairs, leaving only the rhythmic sound of Father Figure by George Michael to fill the space. 

[not-fortune-cookie]

Hey just saw your writing and I adored it and I had an idea for a story drabble or if you like it enough...a series...basically y/n is a person who loves playing cookie run kingdom but wishes to live among them. Kinda like your...special cookie story but can imagine they are transported into the game as like a weak cookie...like a common cookie. Bet that would make the cookies VERY protective of them if they like y/n lol! As y/n just lives their life and wanders around...possibly even taken on some of the adventures to see more of the world by gingerbrave and his friends, they meet more cookies who adore em aaaand want to protect em!

Bonus if ya want: reader is like...an absolute shy bean who either has no idea how to fight oooor is a pacifist.

𝐍𝐨𝐭-𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

Spoiler Alert— That's actually my concept on my story, "Wished Fulfilled". [Y/N] is called the Ruler; or most authors put it-- Baker. But in my story, they're just [Y/N] Cookie. Unique category but the weakest among the Cookies. Also, thank you for the compliments! I appreciate your kind words. I'll try finish the story soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                You love to decorate the [Name] Kingdom. You are their Ruler after all even it's only a day when you transmigrated into the game. However, since you didn't know how to be a cookie, there are some downsides. Especially that you're the weakest among the kingdom and its residents.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                You are quite a crumbling little thing. Your dough hasn't baked into a crispy one and your soul hadn't settled yet with your vessel. You're not allowed to be up and about yet, your legs are shaky and you're like a newborn.

                Don't worry your pretty little head, Pure Vanilla Cookie is kind and gentle with you. Standing by your side every step of the way as you practice. You're so shaky and weak, you easily fell down flat on the grass whenever you let go of your trusty staff. No wonder some of the Cookies have them—

                Every step you injure yourself, the Healer cookie never hesitated to erase each scratch from your dough. He watches your every move and even offer a hand when you need to. Eventually you'll get accustomed to your body soon enough.

                But that doesn't mean the Ancient hero will not be so protective. The young cookies can be rambunctious and run to you out of excitement to finally meet you. So he is alert and telling the young ones to not overwhelm you so much.

                Just don't traverse too far from him. He can't afford you to get injured without him to aid you. But he trusts Espresso to handle your curiosity of your Kingdom.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                This situation made Espresso Cookie appoint a research for you to easily maneuver your new body. For such a Cookie like yourself, someone who the Ancient Cookie cares for, the scientist had made sure of it that you are well taken care of.

                Despite his busy schedule, Espresso Cookie uncharacteristically dropped his current research to leash you near him. He constantly has to panic whenever his sight isn't on you. He is already disheveled and in distress before he can finally find you among the deep forest that leads to adventure to Crispia.

                But the leash he had on you won't let you travel far. He can't let you go deep in dangers out there. The Kingdom is nothing without their ruler and you had just get here.

                He has to get the best distraction for you. Do you like shiny things? He has some trinkets you can play in his laboratory. Despite not wanting anyone to disorganize his tools, he may allow you to clean up his equipment as long as you don't get far from the premises of the Kingdom.

                But eventually you got away and curiosity got the best of you. What danger lays outside the Kingdom that made Pure Vanilla Cookie and Espresso Cookie forbid you to get far?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                That's when Red Velvet Cookie find you. He lost chiffon one time and some of his cakehounds when he encountered the frail you.

                Red Velvet Cookie knew the cookies that built a kingdom for the Ruler to arrive. He was expecting someone so powerful and as vile as the residents of [Name] Kingdom that harm his precious hounds. But the way you let the little ones cuddle up to you and hesitate to even have a thought of laying a hand of them. The cookie of darkness is intrigued by your pacifism.

                So he approached you, promising himself to protect you from harm as you adore and spoil the cakehounds that refused to leave you.

                You're part of his family now, despite being on the 'good' side.

I hope this is satisfactory for a drabble :]

[fuckingrecipes]

Recipes often say medium or high for stove temps, but I know different stoves have different temp ranges (the 5 setting on my stove is way different than the one on my parents' stove). Is there a better way to figure out where my stove's 'medium' is than trial and error? (Also if the answer is a thermometer, how do i use the thermometer to figure it out? I doubt poking it against the heating element would be the right method)

Do not poke the heating element.

Your 'Medium' will be the halfway point between 'Low' and 'High'.

It's just how aggressively heat is pumping out, relative to itself.

Because your pan will be losing heat at the same time the stovetop is adding heat, and you'll also lose heat faster if you're constantly stirring the ingredients around, the actual live temp in the pan will vary greatly.

When cooking, you're trying to set the dial for 'Hot enough to get your food to do the reaction you want in the timeframe you want, without cooling too fast or burning)

'High' (numbers 7-9 if your stove has numbers instead of words) is at the top third. 'Medium' (4-6) is in the middle, 'Low' (1-3) is at the bottom third.

The thing is; your stovetop can boil water at nearly every mode. Even at a 3, or 'low' it can keep water at a gentle boil if you leave it alone with the lid on.

The stovetop assumes you'll be COOKING with it if it's on- which means moving the stuff around, moving the pan around, adding cool ingredients - all of which will COOL DOWN the pan.

You can burn something on a LOW heat pan if you leave it alone. Heat builds up and isn't released, steams out all the water, and then turns the dry matter into char.

You can NOT burn something on HIGH heat pan if you move it around enough.

--

Most regular stove-top things are cooked on Medium heat.

You might go up to HIGH if you want to sear the outside, but after it's seared you turn the heat back down.

You might stay on low if you have a delicate sauce or you're just re-heating something that's already cooked, or you've already seared the outside and now want to maintain juuuuust enough heat to finish cooking throughout.

-- In conclusion:

PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT THE FOOD IS DOING IN THE PAN.

If a recipe says "cook for 20 minutes or until golden brown', then take it OFF THE HEAT when it's golden brown, even if only 17 mins have passed.

If a recipe says 'Turn the heat down to medium to reduce it to a simmer' and your pot stays at a ROLLING BOIL, then you need to turn it down a bit further, or take the pan off the heat entirely to get it to gentle to a simmer.

Aim for the goal of that cooking step. Read the recipe and ask questions so you understand WHY each step needs to happen BEFORE YOU START COOKING

Learn how your own equipment behaves. Does it run too hot? Does it heat unevenly? Pay attention to what's going on with your food when cooking! Yes, you may make mistakes, but learn from those mistakes. Either learn about food or learn about your equipment.

Recipes are written by people who are using THEIR OWN equipment. Every recipe was written by a PERSON. Some people have funky stovetops that run way hotter or cooler than average. Their recipe will always assume that your stove is exactly like theirs.

If you KNOW that your stovetop tends to burn things when you follow the recipe exactly, remember to tweak the knob a little lower, so the temp isn't as intense

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Can you do kaeya for death seeking creator please?

Oh I absolutely can! I apologize if how I characterize him is inaccurate. But I hope you enjoy it either way!!

Typical death warnings here, plus some possible psychological horror from Kaeya's perspective? Idk

News of imposters had been sprouting up frequently within the confines of the bar, it seems that's what most talk about lately. Kaeya never paid much mind to it as he felt the topic of such gruesome punishments that befell them were inappropriate to drink to. Though with a more hazy mind he would call himself a hypocrite, as he also would be in agreement for those who defiled the Primordial Mother's image to receive such punishments.

But as of now he had a clear mind, obversing everything he can as he looked down at the dirty individual before him. They're eyes were wide in fear, hands clutching onto the grass below as if ready to run any second. It was clear they were terrified, thinking their life was about to end. And while he would happily will it, he has a more...humane method in ridding the world of such heretics.

"My, you look a bit worn-out. Do you need any help?" He asked, pitching his voice to give off the false concern he wished to show. He reaches out his hand in help, his smile just barely there. He can see them hesitate, very much in disbelief at his 'kindness'. He couldn't blame them, no one would be kind to someone as disgusting as them. "Let's find some shelter you can use. I have some preserved slabs of meat to cook up, as I'm sure you're hungry."

A growl from their stomach answers him, causing him to laugh from the sheer predictability of these people. He gently guides them towards a safer area, ignoring the shine in their eyes as they followed. He sets up a tent and a cooking fire easily, refusing to let them help him.

As the meal cooks he asks the imposter before him what their situation was, only half listening as they prattled on about them not being at fault and they were just born that way. Something he has heard before from the recountings of others who have come across such vial people as this one. He responds with feigned sympathy, telling them how sorry he was for the tragedies they faced.

Once the food was finished he gave them a large helping, saying they needed all the food they could get if they wished to find another safe place somewhere else. He was able to hold in his expression when the dirty individual gave their thanks, looking at him as if he was some savior. In some way he was, he would delude to himself sometimes, for he would give then this false hope before they were to close their eyes for the final time.

As the sun was setting over the horizon, Kaeya grinned as the imposter yawned loudly. Their eyes drooped as a hazy look settled over, before falling over to snooze against the dirt below. The sleep potion had worked wonders, as he knew it would. Carefully picking them up, he gently placed them a few meters away from the campsite, as to not get blood on his equipment.

Taking his sword in hand, he presses it against their throat, watching them shiver in their sleep as the cool metal touched their skin. He studies their face, fascinated in how it was a one to one recreation of the god who not only gave him and everyone life, but that also guided him guided throughout his years.

"Apologies my friend." He says in a whisper, with only the wind to hear. "At least you got to go in peace."

And with a quick and precise movement, he turns away as to not watch their disgusting blood seep into the grass. He walked back over to his camp, not bothering to bury the dead creature. As he looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky, he couldn't help but wonder if the Primordial Mother above was watching.

-

News of the Primordial Mother's return spread faster than any other imposter rumor had ever done. It was all anyone could talk about these days, no matter the conversation their god was always brought up. The church was bustling as many patrons were quick to pray and give offerings for when the creator would appear in Mondstadt.

Even Kaeya himself was cheerier as he watched the people around him buzz in excitement. Though it seemed to be growing a bit too much for him, as he decides to patrol outside the city for the sake of some quietness.

As he strolled towards Windrise he could feel the strong breeze, as if even Barbatos himself was celebrating. Arriving at the tree that symbolizes the old hero of Mondstadt, he looks around to take in the sights. A bit further away he could see a small patch of flowers that bloomed brighter than any other he's seen, he recalls that area was familiar but decided to held no importance.

His thoughts are quick to stop as he hears the snap of a twig, alerting him to something nearby. He quickly materializes his sword and points it in the direction of where he heard the sound, surprised to find a dirty and unkempt individual. Their hair was overgrown and matted, covering their face fully from his view. Their clothes were ripped, barely covering their form and making their golden scars apparent.

His eyes narrowed as he takes in their form, dissecting them with his gaze. He doesn't feel anything threatening from them, but a knight must always be cautious. Keeping his sword at his side, he addresses them. "My, you look a bit worn-out. Need any help?"

The person doesn't respond, they only stood there. They swayed side to side a bit, causing him to worry to them being injured. He takes a step forward, still cautious as to what movement they could use. "Are you alright?"

They still don't respond, a sense of dread enters Kaeya as he slowly moves forward. Just as he reaches out to brush their hair out of their face, they jump forward. Surprised he quickly swings his sword, causing them to scream as they fall to the ground in pain. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, his instincts telling him something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He attempts to calm himself down, not fully believing what just happened. But the person lunges at him again, making him swing his weapon once more to slice against them. They scream in agony, drops of shining gold landing onto the grass below.

This wasn't right, nothing in this situation was right. This person, this...thing, it couldn't be bleeding the blood of the Primordial Mother. They were supposed to be graceful, elegant, clean, purity itself. Yet the figure in front of them was screaming like a beast wishing for death, it was horrifying.

"Just do it?" He hears them mumble, confusing him even more.

"Wha-"

"Just do it! Kill me again like you've done before!" They raged, their fierce gaze keeping him frozen in place. "I know your methods! The one time I thought someone was on my side, you killed me in my sleep!"

He killed them? He killed the Primordial Mother before? Nothing they said made sense. He would never have killed them. Never!

That imposter he ended ages ago, that wasn't them! There's no way! No one should have the ability to kill a god! Less of all the one who created everything!

This can't be!

It just can't be!

They lunge once more, every thought in his body screamed at him to move. If they get him they'll hurt him! So with the scream of confusion, rage, sorrow, any emotion he couldn't decipher, he swings his blade down for the final time that day.

As he watches them writhe in pain, he realizes he wasn't breathing. He grips at his chest, feeling his heart try to burst out. He drops to the ground on his knees, watching as their body withers into ash and flies off into the wind.

What had he done?

[lynaferns]

FNAF Steampunk AU

That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.

I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.

So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.

Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.

If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:

All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).

Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.

DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.

Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.

Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.

Burntrap also apeared more.

All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.

Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).

Also, first idea and some doodles.

Edit: Now Cassie is in the AU

Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.

Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"

Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"

Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"

Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.

Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.

The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.

Sun-"..." "Gregory"

Gregory-"..."

Sun-"come on, say it"

Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"

Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.

They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.

Moon-"go gator boy"

Monty-"I hate you"

One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.

(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)

The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.

Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?

Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”

Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”

There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)

Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.

[felassan]

Shinobi602 comments on ResetEra:

"If Anthem was a runaway success, you'd be seeing a very different BioWare right now who'd be all in on the live service model. They're running uphill because they've got goodwill they need to earn back after the fact, but its failure (plus Fallen Order's success) is what allowed them to pivot right back to what they're good at: single player character driven RPGs. Silver lining but still." [source]

User: "I don't think its unreasonable to have hoped that a Dragon Age game would have similar gameplay to previous Dragon Age games." Shinobi: "Veilguard does have similar gameplay though, just not the exact same gameplay." [source]

"Open world doesn't automatically mean better. Inquisition's open world zones were basically Bioware's response to Skyrim and anticipating that's what players wanted. The big zones were cool but they were also bloated and full of uninteresting quests. Andromeda also took Mass Effect to huge open world zones and they had the same result. It was ass and the game benefited nothing from it. It's better for Bioware to stick to what they do best which is tighter, more structured play spaces." [source]

"they'll do what they think they're good at. Inquisition was highly rated, but the big open areas were also flawed. If they felt that's not what they'll excel at, that's fine. There ARE larger open areas in Veilguard though. If that's your very strict definition on what will make the game good apparently." [source]

"If you're sole definition of a Dragon Age game is that you can take direct control of companions and a tac-cam, it's understandable. But I think it's completely false that this is somehow unrecognizable as a Dragon Age game. There are tons of different aspects that define the series outside of that." [source]

"It's been evolving and changing for over a decade." [source]

"They did say there are some "killer cameos" they're keeping secret. My mind's going to several different possibilities..." [source]

User: "Yeah, they need to wrap up this story in this game. I'm already a little annoyed that we are getting another "the veil is torn and demons are wrecking havoc" story. They cannot stretch that to a third game." Shinobi: "It's a lot more than that. It's not a repeat of Inquisition or anything." [source]

"This might genuinely be the most in depth CC in a mainstream RPG that I've seen." [source]

"Yeah this is more like Inquisition, though you could still change out companion helmets in that one." [source]

"They did confirm tavern songs are back so that's good news, and The Swan (Minrathous tavern) has a bunch." [source]

"Yeah there's a good amount of veterans working on Veilguard. Though I always find that to be such a weird qualifier, and it seemingly always comes up with Bioware in particular. As if there aren't tons of talented non-Bioware devs from across the industry who could join the team and still write and design a great game. Like nah, it can't be a good game unless it's got people who've been there for 20 years! 😄" [source]

"There are also rune items you can equip that provide different effects and act as their own abilities basically, plus ultimate attacks for each class specialization (so 9 total), plus finisher moves and things like elemental combo detonations for extra damage." [source]

"there are definitely 'open areas' you can explore around in. It's not more linear than ME2." [source]

User: "Is my reading of "mission-based" it being like ME2/3 correct?" Shinobi: "Yeah, in that regard, it's more structured like Mass Effect, which I think is to its benefit. DAI just suffered way too much from open world bloat. I think the tighter, handcrafted structure works a lot better." [source]

User: "How big are the areas? Like the first game where you open the map and pick a location?" Shinobi: "Don't know exactly. But that's what I was told. There are several open ended areas that are explorable in the story. Plus a hub area." [source]

"I think if fans have been yearning for a quality Bioware game like they were used to before, this is that. Tight design, great character models, environments, animations have gone next level, combat fluidity, etc...it's all here. I compare it to the jump from ME1->ME2. [re: the jump in quality/fidelity/presentation.] This isn't a spoiler, as Game Informer said, it's a full on action RPG, and you can still pause and issue commands. But this is not DAO. Preferences put aside, Bioware's moved on from that ages ago. This isn't BG3 at all. But they've put a huge emphasis on making combat feel good to play. As in engaging the player, more real-time, more Mass Effect. It's a meaty, single player RPG with lots of systems going on inside. Also, like they said, this is the prologue, the beginning of the game. Keep that in mind if you don't see everyone's powers unlocked or intense pause and play. If you keep all that in mind, I think you'll really like this." [source]

"But it's a big jump for Bioware. [re: animations]" [source]

"[rogues are] flashy, jump around a lot, etc." [source]

"Party members can definitely get knocked out in battle" [source]

"It's important to note that what was shown was completely level 1 combat, and likely on easy mode for demo purposes. There is way more to it in more advanced battles. When it opens up with way more abilities, unique momentum attacks, ultimates, and other...things they haven't shared yet, on higher difficulties, it will look and feel way different." [source]

"It'll be rated M. It's got its share of nudity lol." [source]

User: "should we expect a comparable level of dialogue role playing as we had in Inquisition? I don't mind the changes to combat but there seemed to be more auto dialogue here than I remember from Inquisition or Tresspasser." Shinobi: "Yeah. That was just the intro. They just like to keep the pace going for a big start to the game." [source]

"This isn't accurate at all though, and it keeps getting perpetuated. Yes, there's been departures like Casey Hudson, Aaryn Flynn, Mike Laidlaw, etc, but I could easily list dozens of people at Bioware right now that have been there for 10-20+ years, some even longer. Do they just...not count for some reason? The entire core team building Mass Effect right now were OG leads on ME1-3, been there for over 20 years. And even outside of that, like, does this really matter? Do you know one of the game's premier VFX/lighting designers worked for ILM? Or one of the cinematic leads is an alum from Blizzard? Or one of the creature animators was a senior creature animator on Horizon Forbidden West? Talent is talent. And if we look at the industry through that lens too, sure, tons of studios are just "X, Y, Z studio in name", in many ways. There's no studio in the industry that holds on to their entire team for 30-40 years." [source]

"They do have that data. And I think even this thread would be shocked at how tiny of a % of players took direct control of other companions. Or went into tac-cam. Not just Inquisition but the whole series." [source]

[raspberrighost]

I finally finished the ref for Crosswind! I love her sm. Shes just kind of a big ol pookie.

She's calculating, a lil loud, but mostly just doing her best.

Shes a wee bit shorter than Jetfire despite her alt-mode being larger than his. She's just compact!!

Info stuff down below :V

Crosswind has a deep running loyalty for the autobot cause and anyone who is under her direct care. This loyalty often leads to her calculating high risk, high reward situations in battle to ensure everyone makes it home. This willingness to engage in risky actions makes her come across as a lil’ unhinged, but she is assured in her abilities and driven by her need to keep casualties down.

When in battle she is seen in the skies, offering support in many forms. Often she is found evacuating injured parties, and containing the fight to its current area to minimize casualties. If able she will intervene in active gun fights, using her size and speed to ensure whoever is pinned safety. 

She has a decent amount of combat experience,  and what she doesnt know she makes up for in her ability to process information and throw her weight around. Fighting against similarly sized bots means she has to rely on her smarts more than experience and fire power. If others are present and at risk she will continue to engage until they can get to safety or she dies. 

The only way she will disengage is if someone can convince her processor that her present calculation is incorrect. 

-

Generally very pleasant and kind off the field, she does keep a distance, rarely indulging in her personal thoughts and past experiences, but enjoys small talk with the other bots around the base and learning about them. Gets along with most everyone at a base level, but struggles to make deeper connections because of it. It’s a mix of both fear of not seeing them again, and self-doubt. 

Despite this hesitation, she is fairly close with some bots like Jazz, Sideswipe, and surprisingly Ratchet. She does work closely with Prowl off the field, and while they hold a mutual respect, her propensity to disregard rules and risk her own safety means they often butt heads.

She adores the Earth's fauna and flora, adopting the color green quickly for her altmode when she arrived, as green is not commonly found on Cybertron in such beautiful abundance. She kept parts of her orange coloring as a tactical choice so she is easy to see in forested areas and the sky for her team to quickly locate for evacuation. This is a double edge sword as it makes her visible to the enemy, but it's a risk she has been willing to take since the beginning. 

Prior to the war she was an intelligence analyst, constantly searching for flaws and ways to mitigate long term risk for multiple clients. Once the war started she hesitated to join a side, unable to convince herself that a side ran mostly by the previous militia’s personnel was good let alone a side where brute strength seems to rule all. She believes this hesitation led to the loss of some of her closest friends. 

Quick tid-bits:

She is built for long hauls, and landing in tough terrain. This makes her use essential when hunting for energon in remote locations.

She has the ability to survive for longer periods in harsh climates. She is often used as a warming hub/base of command during these missions in order to prolong their mission. 

Her support varies on the needs of her team. She can put out encroaching fires to minimize damage, contain fights, remove injured, or transport. 

Crosswinds altmode is an Illyushin, a multi-purpose strategic airlifter, built to haul 88k lbs 3,100 miles in under six hours (thats from southern Cali, up to Maine in less than six hours for perspective). The build also makes them perfect for landing in rough terrain and taking off on short notice without much runway space. Occasionally used as a command center.

They were built to be all-arounders, and therefore I wanted Crosswind to represent that. They even come equipped w two rear guns, but it wasn't their obvious purpose.

lil close up of her pre-war look, and a comic close up