#Impromptu top surgery

[topaztimes]

biting you

ACK! Bites your top and gives you the iconic Kirk tear

[ozzyeelz]

heavymedic content and impromptu top surgery? hell yeah brother sign me up

Happy pride y’all

[prolix-yuy]

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

[gendertrickster]

kanaya would definitely give you impromptu top/bottom surgery by the way. it would not be clean or pretty or even worthwhile but she will do anything for a fellow trans person

[synnthamonsugar]

I'll literally never forgive the destiny fandom for sleeping on Eris/Mara when there's a whole running storyline about them traveling together to the outer reaches of the system to barehandedly destroy a pyramid, in the process of which Mara straight up dies, forcing Eris to go into Elusinia and punch Dul Incaru in her >:3c face to Hive Resurrection Ritual Mara back into physicality, and then when they get out, Eris gets sliced and diced by falling debris, at which point Mara has to perform impromptu field surgery on her thigh to stop the bleeding, and Eris, expecting to die, reconciles with Mara over the whole "having embedded in herself a piece of Oryx's power and in utilizing it becoming like him" thing, which I haven't mentioned until now because it's not even one of the top five most insane things to happen in this sequence of lore pieces.

[jei-rifni]

Transmasc Okuyasu uses Za Hando as impromptu top surgery

Sorry this one stays messy I have no motivation to draw :(

[feastofsnakes]

let daddy inject you with t right now or you're getting impromptu top surgery in my bathtub

[zabala0z]

Hi I’m back! I think we all know what I’m going to talk about; “s4 of TMA and OH MY GOD JARED HOPWORTH STATEMENT”

MAG 130: Meat

Lucia Wright has the same last name as James Wright who ran the institute from ‘73-‘96 until he passed. I don’t know if there’s any relation but just in case. There’s that pit. There’s a lot of pits that’s related to The Flesh (MAG 49, MAG 80, MAG 97, I think, and MAG 130) so. Yay. Also Tom Hann appearance once again (MAG 30, MAG 72). Love the mention of the Carlisle boy which I think is Tony Carlisle from MAG 18, the neighbor with all that meat. Gertrude also mentions Dekker which is probably Adelard Dekker who I still need to see more of to fully develop my opinion on him.

Also what’s with all the recent cobwebs??? There’s been so many mentions of them around the institute, is The Web planning something?

MAG 131: Flesh

fucking hell, Jon. I think this man just decides to do shit without running it by anyone. Also yay Melanie! I feel like really bad for her. Again, I can’t even blame her much for her reactions cause one, there was The Slaughter and two, surgery is like hella invasive even when it’s run by the person so waking up to someone performing an impromptu surgery on you would linger with me as well.

Helen is back. Bit scared of her but she sounds much better then Michael (then again, The Spiral lies like constantly). Now onto the main guy: Jared Hopworth.

Um. I had no idea what his voice was going to sound like. My expectation wasn’t high, just “unhinged” and my god did Jared Hopworth deliver. (Also heard he’s also Martins voice actor???? WHAT??) he didn’t give much new information but lemme tell you, hearing the squelching of meat and shifting of bones made me want to throw up so congratulations Jared! You’re are in the top 3 of TMA voices that make me feel intense horror!

MAG 132: Entombed

Jesus. Okay so. Daisy. Not much lore in this ep for me to connect to anything, just a lot of sad stuff like I was speechless. I can’t remember if I mentioned on here that I thought Daisy was related to The Hunt but I did suspect and I’m not surprised! Also, the shirt thing, that’s crazy oh my god, I thought it was interesting she asked about his shirt out of all things.

MAG 133: Dead Horse

The Everchase. Why does every entity have such a cool sounding ritual name??? Anyways, pretty interesting.

“You know what my least favorite part of a case was?”

“The police brutality lawsuit” Im literally dying.

Also, Basira, man. I think she’s so interesting. I can’t put it into words but god she’s just such an interesting character to me. An ex-cop, one of the only ones who like logic’s her way out of The Unknowing, trying to keep everything together at the institute, I don’t know, I just like her a lot.

But god FORBID a character gets replaced OR SACRIFICES THEMSELF.

I need to see something from Martin, I’m worried about him. Maybe Peter Lukas. Actually, I kinda wanna see Nathaniel Lukas? Like he exists too, he has his own shit going on. I don’t wanna see Elias.

Okay I think that’s everything! I wish I could continue my notes, I low key miss sitting at my computer after listening to the eps and typing out every single detail, it was kinda calming.

[nerves-nebula]

I think the audiobook for The Spirit Bares It’s Teeth is a really good example of how the medium can enhance a story. Two of the characters are trans and the way that’s displayed in their voices is so fun. When the MC is around most people he has a more feminine voice, but when he’s alone with Daphne his voice becomes deeper and more masculine.

It’s also an interesting choice when, outside of being around each other, their voices change. Silas, for example, will adopt his masculine voice when doing impromptu surgery. This could be for a lot of reasons, but I see it as an expression of his comfort in doing something he’s passionate about and familiar with, as well as an expression of this being his “true self.” Though I also see it as him dropping the facade of femininity in a time of crisis. He doesn’t have it in himself to mask AND do surgery lol.

The same happens with Daphne. When Silas is with Daphne and Daphne needs to command peoples attention with her presence, she’ll have her boy voice. But once she turns back to Silas she’ll have a more feminine voice.

And none of this is in the text of the book, nothing says the voices change, and in truth they probably don’t. I’m sure these Victorian teenagers haven’t been voice training in secret. but it’s so delightful as an expression of when they’re being, or being seen as their real selves.

Also: the person reading the book is just generally very good at voice acting. They have a distinct voice for the inner anxiety Silas refers to as The Rabbit. It’s a shrill fearful voice that definitely comes across stronger through audio than plain text. They also play various emotions incredibly well (people snapping, talking through sobs, panicked, enraged, and this part at the end where Daphnes dad is doing this whole awful pathetic pleading speech) and in ways I don’t think I’d have even imagined as strongly as they’re being performed. There’s so much emotion in it!!! It’s great. To me this is a top tier audiobook.

[dots-in-my-head]

(Scratch accidentally shredded Astarion’s shirt)

(Astarion’s not that upset about it though)

(Somewhere along the journey Blitz gets impromptu top surgery via auntie Ethel btw thats actual lore for him) (it works out fine)

(I like to think astarion looks really tired when he’s not trying to seduce or manipulate anyone) (anyways i used my own face for reference on how to draw him tired soooooooooo-)

Also i got blitz LAID at the tiefling party woo hoo (he tops astarion bottoms btw I don’t make the rules sorry)

[badgraph1csghost]

Everyone standing back and blaming people voting for 3rd party candidates better watch this and then come back and tell me a 3rd party ballot did this.

Video transcript below cut

[announcer] This is the story of how the world's richest person, the owner of Tesla and X, bought the global town square and then corrupted it, using his own immense wealth to help elect a convicted felon.

April 14, 2022. Elon Musk makes an unsolicited offer to buy Twitter for $44 billion. He claims the site has become politically skewed and says, "for Twitter to deserve public trust, it must be politically neutral."

October 27th, the deal goes through. The next evening, a far-right conspiracy theorist breaks into the San Francisco home of democrat, Nancy Pelosi, intending to kidnap her. Pelosi is away, but the man attacks her husband, Paul, hitting him repeatedly on the head with a hammer. Paul Pelosi escapes with his life, but requires surgery for a fractured skull. While most people take the chance to decry political violence, the new owner of Twitter, Elon Musk, posts a tweet sharing an entirely false claim that Paul Pelosi was, in fact, injured in a drunken fight with a male prostitute with whom he was involved. Musk includes a link to a false claim on a website that has a history of publishing conspiracy theory, including a story asserting that Hillary Clinton is dead and has been replaced by a body double. Musk's post is retweeted 24,000 times before he deletes it.

November 18th. Musk's Twitter starts to unlock previously banned accounts. Misogynist and far-right influencer, Andrew Tate, was permanently banned from Twitter in 2017 after urging women to "bear some responsibility for rape." Now, he's back. Tate posts, "I've decided to fly to the failed state of California, walk into Twitter HQ, and tell @elonmusk he's a legend. On my way." 2 months later, Tate will be arrested in Romania on suspicion of human trafficking, rape, and forming an organised crime group.

December 8th. Three members of Twitter's trust and safety council resign. In their resignation letter, they cite research that found slurs against African Americans and gay men jumped 195 percent and 58 percent respectively since Musk's takeover. Three days later, the remaining members of Twitter's trust and safety council are dismissed. Musk then tweets that "My pronouns are Prosecute/Fauci", a reference to a conspiracy theory that COVID-19 was exacerbated by America's top infectious-disease doctor.

December 16th. Having claimed he is a "free speech absolutist", Musk bans @elonjet, a Twitter account that tracks the movements of his private jet using publicly available data. Musk also bans the accounts of a number of journalists who have written about @elonjet.

February 12, 2023. Ahead of the Super Bowl, both Musk and President Joe Biden tweet their support for the Philadelphia Eagles. Biden's tweet is seen 29 million times, Musk's just 9 million times. Incensed, Musk leaves the game early and calls an impromptu meeting of Twitter engineers at 02:36 AM. Their job? To change the Twitter algorithm to artificially inflate the reach of Musk's tweets by a factor of 1000, making him the pre-eminent presence on the site.

July 23rd, Musk announces Twitter is now called X.

August 25th, Donald Trump, once banned, returns to the platform by posting a picture of his mugshot from Fulton County Jail with the words "Election Interference, Never Surrender". Musk reposts the shot. Four days later, X reverses Twitter's longstanding ban on paid political advertising.

November 15th. In a post promoting the racist conspiracy theory that Jewish people are importing immigrants to America to fix elections for democrats, one X user writes, "Jewish communities have been pushing the exact kind of dialectical hatred against whites that they claim to want people to stop using against them." Musk replies, saying, "You have said the actual truth." In response, several advertisers, including Disney, Warner Bros., and Comcast pause their advertising on X. Musk then tells advertisers concerned by hate-speech on the platform--

[Elon Musk] Fuck yourself. Go fuck yourself. Is that clear?

[announcer] Over subsequent months, Musk will become obsessed with the false claim that democrats are allowing immigrants into America to create more democratic voters, in effect, stealing the upcoming election, sharing the claim numerous times with his followers and pushing it to tens of millions more who choose not to follow him. A year later, it will be revealed that Musk, a South African immigrant, worked illegally in the US in the 1990s.

November 25th. On X, Musk boosts the Pizzagate conspiracy theory; a long-debunked claim alleging high-profile democrats ran a paedophile abuse ring from a Washington pizza restaurant.

March 25th, 2024. Musk loses a lawsuit against the Centre for Countering Digital Hate. He'd sued them after they flagged a rise in hate-speech after Musk bought Twitter. In his ruling, a US district judge calls Musk's case "vapid" and that "this case is about punishing the defendants for their speech."

May 2024. Musk creates a political action committee which he calls America PAC. Its objective is to mobilise 1 million republican voters in swing states in an effort to hand the election to Trump. Musk commits to putting tens of millions of dollars of his own money into the Get Out the Vote push and clears his calendar every Friday morning for 30-60 minutes to meet with the team he's assembled to run the effort.

July 14th. Musk calls Trump on behalf of JD Vance, urging Trump to select Vance as his running-mate. Vance says abortion is murder and scolds women who haven't become mothers.

[JD Vance] --A bunch of childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices that they've made.

[announcer] Musk's phonecall is part of a broad effort by Silicon Valley billionaires to ensure Vance is selected. The next day, Vance is unveilled as Trump's vice presidential candidate.

September 6. Trump says that, if he wins, he will appoint Musk to head up a government efficiency commission.

[Donald Trump] --And Elon, because he's not very busy, has agreed to head that task force.

[announcer] The idea came from Musk, whose companies are currently facing at least 20 federal investigations. If he gets the role, it would give the world's richest man the power to regulate the regulators who won't sway over his companies. Last year alone, his companies were promised $3 billion across nearly 100 different contracts with 17 federal agencies.

September 9th. Musk spreads a conspiracy theory that immigrants in Ohio are eating people's pets. The following day, Trump repeats the slur during the presidential debate with Kamala Harris.

[Donald Trump] In Springfield, they're eating the dogs.

[announcer] The false claim leads to multiple bomb threats against the Springfield immigrant community.

September 15th and 16th. Over a single weekend, Musk amplifies a conspiracy theory that ABC leaked debate questions to the Harris campaign, falsely claims that "the dems want to take your kids", further fuels racist lies about immigrants eating pets, shares with his nearly 200 million followers on X that "Trump must win…to preserve freedom and meritocracy in America" and insinuates that "it is suspicious that no one is even trying to assassinate Biden/Kamala", adding a Thinking Face emoji. The US Secret Service confirms that it is aware of the post. The White House issues a statement saying "Violence should only be condemned, never encouraged or joked about. This rhetoric is irresponsible."

October 4th. Musk posts, "Unless Trump wins and we get rid of the mountain of smothering regulations, that have nothing to do with safety, humanity will never reach Mars. This is existential." Musk is the owner of SpaceX, and stands to make billions from US government space contracts.

October 5th. The X handle @america is taken from an X user and given by Musk to his America PAC. That evening, he joined the former president onstage in Pennsylvania, jumping about wildly.

[Elon Musk] Fight, fight, fight, vote, vote, vote.

[announcer] By now, he's moved with his senior team to a war room in a hotel in Pennsylvania to focus full-time on the Trump campaign. He speaks to Trump multiple times a week, is doing a series of pro-Trump townhalls across the state, and has recruited lieutenants from his companies to join.

October 15th. Legal filings for Musk's political action committee show that he has personally donated at least $75 million to the effort to re-elect Trump.

October 18th. It's revealed that another Musk-funded group called Future Coalition PAC is targeting Muslim voters in Michigan and Jewish voters in Pennsylvania with diametrically-opposed political advertisements about Kamala Harris. In areas with large Muslim populations, the group is painting Harris as a close friend of Israel and is suggesting that she is beholden to the beliefs of her Jewish husband. But in areas with large Jewish populations, the ads say Harris panders to Palestine. Simultaneously, Musk is offering $100 to any Pennsylvania voter who signs his online petition in an effort to build the list of likely Trump voters. He also starts giving away $1 million a day to a randomly-chosen voter who signed the petition.

October 19th. It's revealed that the Building America's Future PAC, another Musk-funded campaign group, is impersonating the Harris campaign by setting up a fake website containing fake policy positions, then sending out text messages driving voters to the fake site.

October 24th. It's revealed that Musk gave his America PAC another $44 million in the first 16 days of October.

October 25th. The Wall Street Journal reports that Musk has been in regular contact with Russian president, Vladimir Putin, since 2022.

October 27th. Musk speaks at the now-infamous Trump rally in Madison Square Garden, a gathering characterised by racism, misogyny, and threats of violence.

[Elon Musk] USA! USA! [exclaims]

[announcer] Musk has posted more than 3,000 times on X in the last month, including dozens of unfounded claims about the election which have been viewed hundreds of millions of times. Apart from Trump himself, Musk is now the single-biggest spreader of election disinformation.

November 5th. Trump wins the presidential election. Elon Musk, a far-right conspiracy theorist, has succeeded in using his immense wealth to help swing the election in favour of the convicted felon.

[numinousmysteries]

Déjà Vu

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Seven: Potatoes

[on Ao3]

December 1999

Fucking Scully gives him déjà vu. Every sensation is a new discovery, but at the same time, he is so intimately familiar with her body and her soul that it feels like coming home. The delicate fingers that once swept hair off his forehead to check for a head injury now curl around his cock and it feels different, yet the same. Picking up her small, naked body to lower down onto his bed feels similar to carrying her to safety in Antarctica, but it’s also brand new.

He saw the tattoo on her lower back in a case file and once in a decontamination shower, but now he knows how it tastes. He spent weeks hating himself whenever she flinched and tried to hide the pain from the gunshot wound in her abdomen. Now, he absolves himself by pressing a kiss to the scar every time he works his way down her body.

She is Scully and also not-Scully. She is his stubbornly brilliant partner who can shoot holes in his theories (or his shoulder) from a mile away. She is also his surprisingly mischievous lover who sneaks up on him from behind in the shower, gently kisses the middle of his back, and starts working his dick in her hands until he spins around to lift her up and fuck her right there, soap suds dripping down his chest to where their bodies meet.

She is 38 years of Hanukkah, Christmas, and birthday presents wrapped into one petite package.

It’s the first weekend in December and they’re holed up in his apartment after returning from Southern California where he shot a brain-eating fast-food employee. It’s not a normal life, but it’s theirs and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Her only rule is that they keep it strictly platonic in public, but he’s already looking forward to breaking that one.

He wakes up on Sunday morning with his arms wrapped around her listening to her snore. Yes, Dana Scully snores. That wasn’t a surprise when they started sleeping together. Years of overnight stakeouts and crosscountry flights will teach you your partner’s sleeping sounds. He’s always loved her snoring. Just like her, it’s gentle yet persistent, not a deep and guttural utterance but a soft and steady rhythm of air catching in her throat.

He closes his eyes and tries to let the sound of her breathing soothe him back to sleep, but his dick has other ideas. Lying here naked with Scully’s also-naked, velvety soft body pressed against his is just too much stimulation after too many years of drought. He traces her lips with his fingertips as he buries his face in her auburn hair.

“Mmm, Mulder,” she whispers nearly inaudibly.

“Good morning,” he says, letting his hand roam from her mouth to left breast.

He lazily circles his fingers around her nipple, just barely making contact as it hardens into a tight little nub. By the time he repeats the pattern on the right side, she’s rocking her hips back against him. The pressure of her ass grinding against his erection is a sublime form of torture.

“I need you,” he whispers in her ear, and it isn’t hyperbole. He’s known for years that he couldn’t live without her, but it’s only in the past couple of months that he’s learned how much his body simply craves hers.

“So take me,” she says firmly, turning over to face him. She tilts her chin up as if to dare him, and he can see her full lips, the milky white skin of her throat, her perfect breasts.

It’s almost enough to make him come on the spot. He accepts her challenge, rolling on top of her and pinning her wrists above her head with his hands. She lets out a gasp. That’s one new thing he’s learned: Dana Scully likes it rough.

The first time they’d made love, they’d both been so gentle, so afraid that one false move would wake them up from this impossible dream. He’d only just recovered from his impromptu brain surgery but even if he was at his full strength he wouldn’t have dared touch her with anything less than tender reverence. He knew she was tough but he needed her to feel safe with him.

By their third time, she told him, You don’t have to treat me like glass. I’m not going to break. And while he would sooner put a bullet through his own brain than hurt her in any way, he’s enjoying learning what she likes—a little nibbling on her ear lobe, a firm hand behind her head when she sucks him off, no handcuffs…yet.

He presses her wrists into the bed and kisses her hard on the mouth.

“Don’t move,” he says, taking his hands off her wrists to trace the outline of her torso.

He runs his fingers over her breasts and the narrow indentation of her waistline before firmly gripping her hips. He lowers himself until he’s facing the damp curls between her legs. He bows his head, nose first, into her pubis. He fucking loves how she smells.

She spreads her legs open around him and he uses his thumbs to part her outer lips and pauses to admire her swollen, glistening center.

“Please,” she whimpers.

“Oh, Scully,” he whispers into her clit. Then he gives her one long stroke with the flat of his tongue and she shivers around him.

He draws circles with his tongue, savoring her sharp, salty, Scully taste as she makes hot little moans. He picks up the pace and she starts bucking her hips into his face. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her ass. She’s moaning harder now, a deep involuntary sound from the base of her throat. She tremors against him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begs, as if there’s anything else in the world he’d rather be doing.

He’s humming against her clit now as he licks and sucks on her. He glances up and sees her eyes are shut tight and she’s thrown her head back.

“Oh, fuck, Mulder,” she utters. “Get up here and fuck me.”

Her hips keep thrusting up against him as he presses a wet kiss to her inner thigh, then her navel, then the space between her breasts and rises to meet her. She snakes a hand in between their bodies and guides him inside her. She is so fucking hot and wet all around him. She’s already got one foot over the ledge, so he doesn’t hesitate, just drives into her. Each time the base of his cock grinds against her clit she gasps and quivers, and it doesn’t take long before she gives in to her orgasm. She’s thrashing against him and all he can do is hold on for dear life. He buries his head in between her neck and shoulder and thrusts into her wildly. His heart is hammering out of his chest and he realizes he would happily die in this moment, balls deep in Dana Scully. But he doesn’t die. He comes hard, exploding inside her as he greedily sucks at her neck. It’ll likely leave a mark and he’s glad it’s turtleneck season.

Once he’s fully emptied himself, he rolls off of her, taking one of her small hands in his and bringing it to his racing heart. They lie in silence, catching their breath.

“Why didn’t we do this years ago?” she asks

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he replies, staring at the ceiling. “If I’d known it would be this good I would have bent you over my desk the day I met you.”

He feels her shake her head next to him. “Not then,” she says. “We didn’t even know each other.”

“Well, what about three years ago? If I recall, you were ready to go with Eddie VanBlundht.”

It’s been a long time since either of them has mentioned that name. He knows she’s embarrassed by nearly falling for VanBlundht’s facade.

Scully sighs and turns on her side toward him. “Only because I thought he was you.”

“Is it weird that I was a little jealous of the guy?” he asks. “For having the balls to do what I could only dream about?”

“Mulder, I did think something was off about you—or him, rather. But maybe I just wanted so badly for it to be real that I didn’t question it.”

Her words bloom in his chest. She wanted him enough that she was willing to suspend her disbelief.

“So you would have been into it…if I had made a move earlier?” He asks hopefully.

She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now. We can make up for lost time.” It’s classic Scully. Grounded in reality.

“You don’t think I’m small potatoes?” he asks.

“Oh, Mulder,” she whispers into his neck. “I don’t think you’re small anything.”

“Thank you, Scully,” he grins and kisses the top of her head.

It took them a while to get the timing right, but now that they’ve made it, he wouldn’t change a thing.

[inkykeiji]

Pigeon and touya nii

prompt: pigeon warnings: stepcest, blood, bullet wound, impromptu surgery words: 734

Something’s wrong. He should’ve been back by now; there’s no way such a routine job would take over an hour and a half longer than it normally does. 

Not that you know what routine means. Not exactly, anyway. 

But Touya’s used the word around you frequently enough—as a nondescript designation of a specific type of job, a codeword of sorts—for you to have gleaned bits and pieces of what it entails: a routine never takes long, is rarely planned, is always called in at a sudden and random time, and is always urgent. 

It’s a routine. That’s what the deep voice laden with fizzing static always says when it orders it. 

It’s a routine. That’s what niichan always says when he delegates to his colleagues, words hurled through the speaker of his phone with an apathetic type of urgency—calm and steady, speedy but not rushed. 

Niichan usually gets them done in under forty-five minutes, tops. Sometimes even sooner than that. 

Except for tonight.

Your numerous calls and increasingly frantic texts have gone completely unanswered, and you’re on the verge of doing the unthinkable and calling someone you absolutely should not be contacting ever again when the door slams open, the force of the impact sending tremors skittering through the walls, whole apartment quivering beneath them.

“Out of the way,” Natsuo’s hissing, sharp and caustic and all the things he becomes when Touya’s vitality is in question, hauling his big brother through the threshold with one strong arm wrapped around his waist, the other wrapped around the wrist thrown haphazardly over his broad shoulders.  

There’s something odd with Touya’s gait—he’s limping, your mind notes dully, trancelike as you slip off the nearest bar stool just before Natsuo heaves his big brother onto it. 

“Oh my God.” 

It slips from your lips in a breathy little whimper, hands outstretched and hovering hesitantly, fingers griping at the air but never touching, desperate to help, unsure how. 

“I’m fine,” Touya’s chuckling, though a syrupy crimson is steadily soaking through his dark jeans, glimmering in the dim yellow glow of the kitchen potlights. 

“What happened!?”

“A pigeon,” Touya huffs, sounding angrier about the pigeon than the oozing wound on his thigh. “A fucking pigeon happened.”

“Wh-What?”

“Sit down before you fall down,” Natsuo instructs, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. 

Panic blurs your vision, edges starting to waver with hazy tears, and you nod dumbly, movements mechanical as you gingerly perch on the stool next to Touya.

“Stupid fuckin’ thing,” Touya’s shaking his head as Natsuo wriggles his jeans down his thighs, making no effort to help. “I should’a killed it when I had the chance.”

“Well, now you know for next time,” Natsuo mutters, fingers gently prodding at the gash. “It’s shallow. You’re lucky it didn’t hit any bone.”

“Wait, I’m—A pigeon caused that?” 

Blinking rapidly, you clear the bleariness from your eyes, spiking your lashes with trapped teardrops and squinting a little as you lean forward, attempting to study the injury.

“More or less,” Touya shrugs. “Little fucker ruined my shot; flew right in front of the barrel just as I was pulling the trigger. Surprised me, made me flinch, shot was off by a few millimeters, but it was enough to garner unwanted attention. Freak accident.” 

His voice is painfully casual—bored, almost, as if it makes no real difference to him, faint notes of anger only seeping into his tone when talking about the unpredictability that ruined another otherwise perfect shot. 

The delicate click of metal tweezers has your gaze instinctively snapping toward the sound, just in time to see Natsuo delving into the wound, careful and cautious as he latches onto the bullet lodged in his big brother’s thigh and begins to pull it, slow and steady, from his flesh. 

“No, no,” Touya’s bloodstained fingers find your jaw, the stench of bitter copper clinging to them, gently redirecting your gaze to his face. “Don’t look, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t need to see this,” Natsuo says, head bent, eyes never straying from his diligent work. “I’d ask you to leave, but I know you’d fight me on it.”

“She wouldn’t listen,” Touya laughs, warm with fondness. The tip of his index finger traces the curve of your cheek, eyes soft and melty as they follow its trajectory. “Not when it comes to her niichan.” 

[eldragon-x]

Giving loop cleavage in their human form is so clever. I just had that star give them impromptu top surgery and that star always remains for additional loop form angst

Thank you Pix, also this is so funny. New top surgery method:

[negative-speedforce]

In Your Teeth

Inspired by:

cw: injury, violence

(okay so if you're wondering about Siv's melee weapons, they're based on the Black Widows' batons from the Black Widow movie)

Of all the people she'd expected to run into while attempting to steal from Mercury Labs, Siv's own father was definitely not one of them.

"That device is mine." Eobard growled, the item that Siv wanted clipped to his belt.

"Not for long." Siv narrowed their eyes.

Siv rammed her head into Eobard's gut, the percussive force from her attack sending shockwaves of pain down her spine, but they forced the sensation to the back of their mind. In seconds, Eobard recovered from the blow, thrusting a series of punches towards Siv's body. They ducked and blocked each one, ignoring the sharp bursts that ignited on their forearms every time they blocked one of his punches from hitting a more vital area.

Siv darted out of Eobard's range, sliding low to the ground on the lab's linoleum floor. Ripping twin batons out of the holsters on their back, they pressed the small levers on their sides, flicking out sickle-like blades attached to the top edges of the batons. They crouched into a fighting position, waiting for Eobard's next attack.

Eobard kicked in a sweeping motion, attempting to knock Siv off her feet. They jumped back, slashing one of their blades across Eobard's sleeve. Red spewed out from the thin, shallow cut, staining the yellow fabric below. Eobard looked down, a smirk crossing his face.

"You finally managed to leave a mark. I see you've been practicing. I'm proud."

"Shut up." Siv made another slash at Eobard, but he managed to catch her batons. Siv bared her teeth, attempting to rip them out of his hands, but he stayed firm, moving to break the bladed tips off her batons. Siv quickly snapped back, sacrificing one blade in exchange for freedom of movement.

Eobard charged at Siv. Siv bolted, aiming to outrun Eobard to a traffic sign just outside of the building. Curling their head into their body for protection, Siv smashed through the glass doors. Seconds before Eobard could reach her, relying on muscle memory, Siv grabbed onto the pole with her hands, waiting just a heartbeat before Eobard was in range.

Siv mounted the pole, spinning around it in order to force their boot into Eobard's face with a satisfying crunch of cartilage. In his moment of disorientation, Siv snatched the device she'd come for from Eobard's belt, then plunged her remaining blade into Eobard's abdomen, dragging it across his diaphragm, making what looked like an impromptu top surgery scar.

Their father's eyes flashed red as he reached up and touched his face, his hand coming back dripping with his own blood. Again, Siv bolted, Eobard in hot pursuit. Guess those pole classes really did come in handy. That must have hurt. Good.

Siv ran up the side of the nearest building, where she would make her last stand. Standing on the precipice of the roof, Siv waited, nursing the bruises on her arms. Eobard appeared mere breaths later, rage evident in his expression.

"What, you're mad that you can't beat me halfway to death again?" Siv raised an eyebrow.

"Give me what I want, and I won't hurt you." Eobard promised. "And I'm not angry. Just disappointed. Imagine what you could do with your strengths if you weren't so obsessed with this petty grudge."

"Petty grudge? You killed my girlfriend, then almost killed me." Siv scoffed. "I have no idea how you sleep at night."

Eobard sneered, blood caked to the front of his teeth from when Siv had greeted his face with the sole of their boot. It was a fitting appearance for him, all things considered.

"Easily." Eobard replied, moving towards Siv. In response, Siv simply exhaled, closed her eyes, and let herself fall backward, plummeting through the night sky towards the ground. Siv dug her remaining blade into the side of the building, which made an unholy scream as it slowed her fall and allowed her to position her feet in a more acceptable manner.

Siv pumped her legs, awaiting the moment when their body would make contact with the ground. With a sharp shock of pain through her lower extremeties, Siv's feet touched the ground, and using the momentum from their fall, they hit the ground running, speeding off into the night in a streak of lightning. She looked down at the device in her hand.

They'd gotten what they'd come for.

[phantasmon]

someone please give me quick impromptu top surgery and cut me up right now