#and then uses one for all to speed to the corner store or some shit and then runs alllll the way back and is like

[kacchans-cradle]

falling to my knees i need cg izuku and little todoroki so bad AGHH

[dj-of-the-coven]

How to Burn Your Own CDs - a guide for Windows users

Are you--yes, you!--tired of paying money to stupid shit like spotify for your music? Do you hate the way that the music industry takes almost all the profit that bands make through streaming and leaves them with pennies? Have you ever wanted to fire up that old CD-Radio in the corner of your bedroom, only to be stopped because all you have on CD is Weezer's blue album and a copy of Kidz Bop 16 that you don't remember buying? Well this guide just might be for you!

Materials you'll need:

A computer. Can't do it without this one.

A CD drive. It can be internal or external, but you'll need one either way. You can find them at Office Depot for fairly cheap and I've heard that some Walmarts carry them.

A pack of CD-Rs. CD-Rs, or CD Recordables, come in packs of 20, 50, or 100. A proper 100-pack should cost you no more than $30, so unless there's some special shortage in your area, don't buy from anywhere selling them at a markup. CD blanks are literally 50c a piece.

CD cases. Sold wherever CD-Rs are, but you can also find these at thrift stores pretty easily.

A sharpie or some kind of permanent marker

Software you'll need:

Jdownloader. You can acquire mp3s through Bandcamp if you're dedicated to righteousness, but for everyone else, install jdownloader or some other kind of open-source download program. I will be proceeding as if you have jdownloader available.

Windows media player. This should open automatically when you insert a CD-R into your CD drive.

Fre:ac audio converter. This is only for the occasion that you encounter OPUS or mp4a files that cannot be interpreted by your CD player.

Note: If you're very determined not to download software onto your computer, you can use free youtube downloaders and audio converters, but these are subject to viruses and other issues such as download speed. I will be proceeding as if you have the programs I listed.

The process:

Decide what you want to burn--anything goes, but keep in mind the time limit on your CD-Rs. Most will record 90 minutes or less.

Open jdownloader, switch to the linkgrabber tab, then paste youtube links in any order until you have all the music you want. I'd personally recommend doing it song-by-song instead of a full album stream, because a massive file will require a lot of work to separate back into searchable tracks.

De-select all files except audio on the right-hand side options menu.

Make a folder inside the music folder of your laptop and label it with the name of your mix CD.

In the properties tab of each song on jdownloader, change the destination folder to the folder you've just created.

Hit "start all downloads".

Once finished, open each folder. If everything is an .mp3 or a .wav, skip the next 2 steps.

Open Fre:ac audio converter to convert all audio files that aren't .mp3 or .wav into .mp3 or .wav.

Drop the converted files next to the unconverted files in your folder. If you wish, you can delete the originals to make the folder easier to browse.

Put your blank CD-R into the CD drive. If external, plug in your CD drive first or the tray will refuse to open.

Windows media player will open automatically. On the right-hand side, you will see the tracklist of your CD-R (which should be blank). On the left, you will see the audio that your computer is able to find in the music folder. Put your selected tracks IN ORDER onto the tracklist.

Listen to the beginning and ending of each track to make sure there isn't a significant time gap. This also prevents accidentally burning a youtuber's stupid outro if you missed it before.

When satisfied, hit "start burn".

On an external drive, the CD tray will open upon completion. You can reinsert it to ensure that the burning went smoothly.

Once satisfied, remove the CD from your drive. With your sharpie or permanent marker, write the name of the album on the front, then store safely inside a CD case.

you did it👍

Ask me if you run into any issues.

Legal disclaimer: this guide is purely for educational purposes and I do not admit to or take responsibility for any piracy committed using the instructions given.

Illegal disclaimer: cops suck my dick

[mwahgo]

Hello! I don't know if the request limit has reached its limit, but hear me out! Sanji transforms into a woman for any reason you want... with mirror sex and sex toys. I've never seen a fem reader with fem Sanji haha. Please?? 🙏🙏🙏

I FUCKED A GIRL (and I like it)

— Fem! Black leg Sanji x Fem! Reader (One Piece)

[+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+]

Summary: Some unknown powder hits Sanji and now you can’t keep your hands off her.

Word count: 2,206 words

Tags: Fem! Sanji, gender bending, bisexual reader, TW: nosebleed, mirror sex, sex toy, use of Y/N, breasts fondling, slight masturbation

Mwahgo's notes: Thank you for the req!😍 tbh i had fun making this WUAHAHA

Luffy jumps around in excitement as he spotted another island up ahead, eager to go on another pirate adventure. The crew is also eager to get on the island since there’s lesser resources now—Zoro needs some more polish for his swords, Chopper wants to buy some new materials for his rumble balls, Robin wants to go a library then shop with Nami and of course, Sanji as the ship’s cook, he needs to go grocery shopping. Everyone wants to do their own errands and you don’t really have something to buy in particular but you don’t wanna be stuck in the ship doing nothing. So you approached the chef—who is preparing some berries.

“Sanji, can I join you in your grocery shopping?” You asked.

Sanji gasped dramatically as his eyes turned into hearts, “Oh course, my dear! Anything to be with you!” He exclaimed with dedication.

You sighed at his exaggerated expression as you both get off the ship with Franky willing to guard the Thousand Sunny since we wanted to do an assessment check on it before we leave. You bid your goodbyes as you joined Sanji to the local market, looking around the variety of goods and fresh products. Merchants and store vendors shouting to get the attention of customers—which one has the better quality, which one is cheaper in price. Sanji, being a 5 star cook, he inspects intently with each product he grabs.

“Look at this one, Sanji. This is one ripe tomato,” You showed him the vegetable in your hand.

He sighed dramatically, “Ahh, you have such a good eye, Y/N-chan~” He swoons.

He lets you put a couple more tomatoes in the bag before you continue walking around. Sanji grabs more items—meat, fish, fruits, vegetables and spices as Sanji paid for the last product of the day, “Shall we go back to the Sunny, my dear Y/N?” He asked

You giggled, “Yes please,” You answered as he blushed.

You both started walking back to the Sunny—meeting Chopper along the way until a woman’s scream ringed inside the market, “SOMEONE HELP! He stole my purse!” The three of you turned to see an old woman in distress, yelling for help as a man runs away, holding her purse.

“Chopper! Hold the grocery, a lady needs saving,” Sanji ordered as he placed the bags in Chopper’s care.

“Sanji, let me come with you!” You declared.

He was about to retort but you cut him off, “Sanji, we don’t have time to argue. We need to get that lady’s bag,” You both started chasing after the burglar in high speed.

You chased him through the streets of the market place—accidentally bumping into different people and the burglar had the audacity to tip over a crate of food in front of us. We jumped over the fallen crate and continue running after him. The burglar turned right into an alleyway as you and Sanji followed after him until it led you all to a dead end.

The burglar obviously panicked—looking around for a small spot to escape until you both were able to corner him, “Looks like you don’t have basic manners when it comes to respecting beautiful ladies,” Sanji sneered as he lights up his cigarette.

The burglar yelped in panic, “Pl-Please..! Just spare me, I-I just need some money to get by!” They exclaimed.

You clicked your tongue at the poor excuse, “Like we’ll believe that shit. If you wanted something to get by, then get a job or steal something from the stalls instead,” You scolded.

Sanji looked at you, weirdly, “Y/N-chan, we’re not supposed to encourage him to steal..” He commented.

You gave him a side eye, “Sanji… we’re pirates, our life is supposed to be about stealing…” You sighed.

While you two were busying bickering, the burglar took the opportunity to pull something out his pocket and throwing it towards you, “DIVERSION ATTACK!” He yelled.

“What the—” You and Sanji started coughing as pink smoke engulfed the small alleyway. Your hands flailed around to clear out the thick smoke as you call out for Sanji, “Sanji?! Are you okay?”

As the smoke clears out, you have a open view of Sanji, who is on the floor, “Sanji? Are you—” Your eyes went wide as you gasped in surprise.

“What is taking them so long?” Nami complained, tapping her feet impatiently waiting for you, Sanji and Chopper.

“Maybe they fell into a pit,” Zoro answered nonchalantly, picking on his ear.

Usopp started shrieking, nervous for the three of you as Nami punched Zoro in the head, “We can’t leave them behind!” She yelled.

“Guys, help!” A small voice called as the crew turned to see Chopper in his deer form running towards the ship with you behind him, carrying someone. The crew gasped as they went down to check on them and the person they bought with them, “Chopper, what’s wrong?!” Luffy frantically asked, “Who is this?”

Chopper sweat dropped as he tried to explain the situation, “So uhm… I don’t know if you’re going to believe this but..” You showed the person that you were carrying as the crew gasped dramatically.

In your arms was a blonde woman, unconscious and wrapped in some formal black clothes and the crew seemed to recognized her, “S-SANJI???”

Luffy laughed loudly, rolling on the floor for laughing so much. Zoro snickered on the side while observing the situation, “How does it feel like to be in the woman’s situation now, shitty cook?” He smirked.

Sanji, who apparently took the most shot of a gender bending powder that was thrown towards both of you, turned into a woman is now sitting on the grassy floor of the Sunny as his (or her?) veins pulsed in anger, “SHUT UP YOU FUCKING MOSSHEAD!” His brash voice turned feminine as Luffy and Zoro continued to make fun of him.

“We were just trying to get a old woman’s purse back, I didn’t know it’ll end up like this..” You sighed.

Nami rubbed her temple in frustration, not only Sanji turned into a woman and we don’t know who the burglar that turned him into one, her crew members are being immature in the situation, “Okay, how should we solve this?” She questions.

“Should we still even solve this?” Zoro asked, casually.

Sanji threw a kick to his head, “OF COURSE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” She yelled.

The two started fighting and the other crew members in the background just watched while discussing the plan to find the burglar who gender bend Sanji. They ended the discussion with all of them going out, even though it was quite unnecessary to go to that length, “We'll never know if there’s a lot of his guys,” Luffy argued, grinning.

You sighed and let the crew do their thing as they left the Sunny, leaving you and Sanji in the ship. You look down at the sulking chef, “You okay, Sanji?”

She sighed, “I know it’s not something to be worried about, but everything just feels weird,” Her delicate hands grabbed her breasts as the soft chest bounce on her palms. You tilted your head in confusion until her nose spurts out blood as her eyes turned into hearts, “B-Boobs..” She swoons.

Your eyes widened before sighing—typical Sanji behavior, even swooning at her own boobs, “Y/N-chan, I really wanna see my own boobs!” Sanji pleaded.

You thought about it for a moment, Sanji looks pleasing right now—bouncing her breasts in her hands and her thighs shakes excitedly for your approval. You never really openly attracted to girls, sometimes the girls in the Straw hats gets you riled up with their outfits, now with Sanji openly wants to see herself naked.

You smirked mischievously, “Sure, let’s go to my room,” You led Sanji to your room as she excitedly follow behind.

You both entered your room as you secretly locked the door from behind—if any of the crew members ever come back. As Sanji stripped off her clothes, you perched a full length mirror in front of her, “Are you ready to see yourself as a woman?”

Sanji buzzed in excitement as she slowly face the mirror. Blood bursts out from her nose when she saw her own boobs, “OWAAHHH! I…” She stammered, “… I finally get to see some woman’s breasts!” She exclaimed, eyes sparkling in joy.

You giggled as she admired herself on the mirror, closely looking at her breasts and playing with the plush muscles. As she was busy looking at herself, you went behind her and wrapped your arms around her small waist, “You wanna feel something amazing, Sanji?” You asked.

Sanji snapped out of her sexual daze, “H-huh?” She looked at you confusedly as your hands trailed up to her breasts to pinch her nipples. She let out a small moan and her eyes widened in surprise, “You feel that? My fingers playing with your nipples?”

She nodded as more whimpers came out her lips. You guided her to the bed as you sat her down your lap while continuing to pinch her nipples, “Do you wanna see more?” You whispered in her ear.

She nodded as your hands went to her thighs before spreading them open. Sanji gasped at the sight on the mirror, her own wet pussy glistening in front of the mirror.

She gulped at the view, “I.. Is that what it looks like?” She asked as you nodded.

“You wanna try and touching it?” You asked as she nodded. You guided her hand to her clit, her fingers grazing on the sensitive blud as she let out a small moan. You continue to guide her fingers to a rubbing motion as she finally got used to it, rubbing her pussy in a controlled pace, “Does it feel good, Sanji?”

She nodded, moaning in pleasure. She bit her lip as the pace of her fingers quickens, signaling that she is about to cum, but you suddenly stop her, “Wh-Why, Y/N-chan?” She desperately asked.

You only giggled as you opened your drawer and pull out a dildo. You heard Sanji gasping at the sight of the sex toy, “A-Are you going to use that on me, Y/N-chan?” She asked

“Well, if you want to,” You answered.

Sanji contemplated for a moment, yes, he wanted to see a woman naked on how he likes it but he wasn’t expect to be fuck like one. But he felt this arousal while looking at the dildo in your hands as he sighed, “I-If I’m going to be fucked by you, then it will be a pleasure,” She smiled sheepishly.

You smirked as you positioned Sanji back to your lap—spreading her legs open in front of the mirror. Her breathing shakes as you placed the dildo between her puffy pussy, rubbing it up and down from her slit to the sensitive nub.

“Pl-Please, Y/N-chan put it inside me..” Sanji pleaded, looking at you through the mirror.

You smirked as you slowly inserted the dildo inside of her pussy, her hands went to your arms to get a hold from the sudden pleasure. The tip of the dildo hits her cervix, making her hips thrust back to the dildo. This hints you to start fucking her as your hands moves the dildo inside and out Sanji’s pussy as she moans in pleasure.

“Ohhh! Y/N-chan.. I’ve n-never felt this..” She whimpered, “.. This pleasure before,” She cried.

Your hand quickens, fucking her pussy with your sex toy as he hips arched twitched from the sudden change of pace. Sanji’s lips lets out the delicious moans as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her legs spread wide on your lap as the dildo plunges inside of her own pussy. You bit your lip on how Sanji looked—taking the dildo like a good girl.

“O-Oh fuck! Y/N-chan! I feel like.. I’m gonna cum!” She cried as her hips grinds on the thrusting dildo.

You giggled as your hand continues to fuck the dildo into Sanji in a rough pace. Her moans became louder as tears prickled in her eyes, her hands now gripping the sheets as she felt the tight coil in her stomach. The dildo buried deep inside her made her cum hard as she squealed loudly, back arching from the intense orgasm. After that, Sanji plopped on your chest, panting heavily as you giggled. You carried her exhausted body to your bed before covering her with your blanket as you heard the crew outside.

You stepped out and saw them boarding in the Sunny while Nami handed you a small pouch, “We got the reversal powder, we might went a little overboard because the Marines were called,” She sighed before glancing at Zoro and Luffy.

You chuckled, “Thanks Nami, but I’ll give it to Sanji later. She seemed exhausted today,”

[florexyy]

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 .・。.・゜✭・.

summary: What was supposed to be a quick supply run turns into an unexpected night alone when a sudden storm leaves you and Jake stranded at a roadside lodge. With only one bed and nowhere else to go, tension builds fast, and years of longing boil over into something neither of you can hold back anymore. <3

pairing: Bestfriend!Jake x Fem!Reader

wc: 2.6k

genre: Mutual pining, Best friends to lovers(?), Smut!

warnings: Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (m!giving), Unprotected sex(cumming in), dirty talk (I think thats all of it if not lmkk)

a/n: Hi guys its me again! uhh i never actually planned on writing smut but here i am...lol?? This is lowkey the first time ive ever wrote something like this so please bare with me muah ♡.

(MINORS DNI)

The storm came faster than either of you expected.

It was supposed to be a quick run, twenty minutes, maybe thirty down the mountain road to the gas station that doubled as a convenience store. Chips, candy, a couple bottles of soda, maybe some cheap beer if the clerk wasnt too nosy about IDs. The others were back at the cabin setting up for movie night, clueless that you were about to be swallowed whole by a sudden mountain squall.

The first drops hit the windshield like warning shots. Then the sky split open. Rain pounded the glass in blinding sheets, turning the road into a slick blur. Pine trees on either side warped into shadows behind the gray curtain. Headlights barely cut through the fog. The wipers were going full speed, but it was like trying to see through a waterfall.

“Shit” Jake muttered, leaning forward over the steering wheel. “I cant see fuck all”

You were gripping the passenger door, knuckles white. “Slow down.”

“I am slowed down.”

But it didnt feel like it. The tires hydroplaned once, maybe twice, your stomach twisting both times. Then the road dipped, and a stream no, a river of water surged across it.

“Okay. Thats it.”

Jake turned the wheel hard, and the car veered onto a gravel turnout. Through the sheets of rain, a neon sign blinked weakly: Mountain Pines Lodge. He rolled into the lot, tires crunching over soaked gravel, and pulled up beneath the overhang like the car itself needed shelter.

By the time you both bolted out, the storm had already soaked you to the skin.

Quickly running to the lodge without a word.

You slammed the lodge door behind you, chest heaving, your clothes clinging cold and wet. “Holy fucking shit. That came out of nowhere.”

Jake stood beside you, dripping onto the polished wood floor. He ran a hand through his soaked hair, water flicking from the ends. “Yeah. Roads flooding. No way we are getting back tonight.”

The two of you stood there, catching your breath, rain pelting the windows behind you like thrown gravel. The lobby was quiet, dimly lit by a few amber sconces. It smelled of wood, old books, and wet stone, like time had slowed down in here.

A bell sat on the reception desk. Jake stepped forward and tapped it.

Ding.

A moment later, an older man emerged from the back. Gray hair, maroon sweater, face like carved oak. He glanced out the window, then back at the two of you.

“Theres only one room left, is that alright with you kids?” he said, placing a key on the counter. “Queen sized bed.”

Jake looked at you. You looked at Jake.

Neither of you said a word.

You just took the key.

The room was unexpectedly warm, wrapping you in a gentle heat that contrasted with the cold storm raging outside. A soft, golden light filled the space, casting shadows that danced lazily across the honey colored wooden walls. The fireplace in the corner flickered with a quiet, steady crackle, its flames low but alive, filling the air with the scent of burning fire wood. On a nearby chair, a couple of thick blankets were folded neatly, waiting to be used.

"I cant believe we are stuck here" You said, examining the room.

He followed close behind you, "Yeah guess we are foced to share a bed"

"Do you have a problem" You said grunting, as you set down your soaked bag.

Jake took a few seconds to reply, as if he thought about the way he would word his next sentence, "No, not really i dont mind."

He walked past you, shoulders brushing.

He plopped down on the bed, "Jake, bro get off the bed your clothes are soaked as fuck."

"Hm okay imma go for a shower then.."

You took your turn in the bathroom, the mirror fogged over from the hot shower. The towel was soft as you dried off, and you slipped into a spare hoodie you carried in your bag, and a pair of well worn shorts that felt almost too comfortable. You paused to shake the moisture from your hair before opening the door and stepping back into the room.

Jake was already out, sitting casually on the edge of the bed again. He wore a dry t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends. The light from his phone cast a faint blue glow on his face, complimenting his features as he scrolled through it, brows slightly furrowed.

You crossed your arms and rubbed them absently. "Anything from the others? Any updates?"

He looked up, eyes meeting yours. "Yeah," he said simply. "Everyones stuck. Roads are blocked. No ones getting through tonight."

A quiet settled over you both.

"So" you said softly, voice barely above the crackle of the fire, "just us then."

Those two words seemed to hang between you, heavy and charged. Just us.

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Rain drops rolling down the window. The fire popped again, a tiny explosion of embers. Everything else was still.

Jakes expression softened. He tilted his head, his voice lower now. "Kinda cozy, though, isnt it?"

You gave a small laugh, a breathy sound. "Its not bad."

His eyes didnt leave yours. "I dont mind being stuck here. With you."

He tried to say it lightly, but the intensity in his gaze betrayed him. His voice might have been casual, but his eyes were serious, focused.

Your heartbeat stuttered. You swallowed hard. "Youve been staring."

You said without hesitation, regretting it the second it left your mouth.

He didnt even try to deny it. "Yeah. Ive been doing that a lot lately."

The moment stretched, unspoken questions brimming just beneath the surface.

You took a breath. "Then why havent you done anything about it?"

Your heart pounding hard.

His posture shifted, the air between you charged with something electric. He leaned forward just slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked onto yours. "Because once I start.. I dont think Ill want to stop."

His hand moved up, slow and deliberate. His fingertips brushed your cheek, then trailed along your jaw, down the line of your neck. The pad of his thumb paused at your lower lip, tracing it gently. Your breath caught.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough with restraint, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint scent of his shampoo.

But you didnt say anything.

Instead, you closed the distance.

You leaned in, and kissed him.

You kissed your best friend.

It started slow, cautious, almost hesitant. Jake looked at you like he needed to be sure. Like he couldnt believe you were real, and if he moved too fast, you might vanish. But once your lips met, everything shifted. The tension that had been simmering for weeks finally snapped. His mouth crashed into yours with a hunger that had been building too long. He kissed you like he was starving. Like you were the only thing he needed.

Your fingers gripped his shirt, twisting in the fabric as he pulled you into his lap. His hands gripped your waist, firm and possessive, dragging you flush against him. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats, pressing into the heat between your thighs, already throbbing, needing him. Every movement made you more aware of how badly you wanted him, how wet you already were.

He pinned you on the bed,

Jakes shirt hit the floor in seconds. Then your hoodie. His hands were everywhere, up your sides, across your back, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing and squeezing your nipples until they ached. His mouth followed, hot and hungry, kissing down your throat, your collarbone, until he sucked one nipple into his mouth and bit gently, just enough to make you gasp. You arched into him, moaning as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak, then moved to the other.

"Jake! Fuck-"

He looked up at you, eyes dark, voice rough. “Can I taste you?”

You nodded, unable to form words.

He moved lower, kneeling between your thighs. His hands slid under your hips, lifting you just enough to peel your panties down slowly. He dragged them over your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs, biting down gently, eyes never leaving yours. The way he looked at you, it made your pulse race. Like he was worshiping you. Like he wanted to devour you.

Then he lowered his mouth to your dripping cunt, and everything else disappeared.

His tongue stroked through your folds with maddening precision, slow at first, teasing, tasting. Then he found your clit and zeroed in. He circled it with the tip of his tongue, then flattened it and sucked, and your hips bucked against his mouth. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Fuck, you taste so good” he murmured, then went back in, licking, sucking, flicking. You were panting, moaning, hands tangled in his hair, grinding against his face because you couldnt help it.

Then his fingers slid inside you, two of them, deep and curling just right. Your back arched off the bed as he worked them in and out, hitting the perfect spot over and over. He sucked your clit harder, faster, your body trembling beneath him.

“Just like that” he growled into you. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

You did - hard. Your thighs clamped around his head, your vision went white, and your whole body shook with the force of it. You came with a cry, breathless and wrecked.

But Jake didnt stop.

He licked you through it, fingers still working you as you clenched around him. When your body finally eased, he kissed his way back up, his mouth slick with you, eyes wild.

“Im not done” he whispered. “Not even close.”

Then he reached down, and pulled his cock free: thick, hard, leaking at the tip. He stroked it once, watching you, then lined himself up between your legs.

“Tell me you want it.” he asked, voice low, trembling with restraint.

You reached for him, pulled him closer. “Jake, I need you. Now.”

And he slid in, slow at first, inch by inch, stretching you, filling you until he bottomed out. He paused there, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard. “You feel so fucking good” he said.

Then he started to move, deep, steady thrusts that made you cry out, made the bed shake. You wrapped your legs around him, nails digging into his back, meeting every thrust with desperation. He kissed you hard, fucking you harder, driving into you like he couldnt get enough.

Your back arches off the bed, spine bowing as pleasure crashes through you. A choked sob rips from your throat, ragged and desperate, as your pussy clenches down on him. Youre gripping him like a vice, like your bodys trying to keep him there, bury him deep and never let him go. Every twitch of your cunt sucks him in deeper, fluttering around his cock like its starving.

And it is. You are.

Every inch of him fills you, stretches you. He hits spots that make your eyes roll back, that make your toes curl, that make your mind blank out in flashes of white hot pleasure. Your thighs are shaking. Youre soaked, slick, swollen, wide open, stuffed full of him.

Jake pulls out halfway, slow, deliberate, and then slams back in, making you see stars.

You cry out, high and sharp, hands clawing at the sheets. He doesnt stop. Hes fucking you now, really fucking you. No teasing. No mercy. Just raw, relentless rhythm. Skin on skin, loud and wet and unforgiving. His cock drives into you again and again, slick with your arousal, gliding through every squeeze, every spasm, forcing you to take it. To feel it.

You feel it everywhere. In your spine. In your ribs. In your throat. In your brain, where it scrapes everything else away until you're nothing but sensation, sound and heat and the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck, baby” Jake groans, his voice gravel. “Youre taking me so good. So fuckin tight around me.”

He grabs your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place as he pounds into you. The headboard is knocking the wall. The bed creaks beneath you. Your breath comes in ragged moans and broken whimpers. He watches your face the whole time, the way your lips fall open, the way your eyes flutter, how wrecked you look just from him.

You reach for him blindly, needing something to hold onto. Your fingers find his back, shoulders, hair, whatever you can grab dragging him down until his forehead presses to yours.

“Im yours” you whisper, voice hoarse, wrecked.

He groans like the words punched him in the gut. His thrusts get harder, deeper. Like hes trying to prove it. Like hes marking you from the inside out.

“Say it again” he growls.

“Yours” you gasp. “Im yours, Jake.”

His mouth crashes into yours, desperate and messy, and you take all of him his tongue, his breath, his body slamming into yours like hes trying to fuse you together.

Your orgasm builds again, hot and tight and impossible to stop. Its rising in your gut, sharp and furious, wrapping around your spine like a live wire.

Jake feels it. He knows. “Come for me again” he pants. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

Your body obeys before your mind catches up, blinding pleasure tearing through you as you come around him. Your cry is loud, broken, helpless. Your walls clamp down, milking him, pulling him deeper, dragging him over the edge. So good.

And then hes coming too, with a groan ripped straight from his chest. You feel it, the hot pulse of him spilling deep inside, his hips jerking as he rides it out, still buried in you.

The room is nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of hearts trying to calm the hell down.

He doesnt pull out. Doesnt let go.

He just holds you there, full, ruined, and his.

Neither of you speaks. Not yet. Words would only bruise the quiet.

Jake lifts his head slowly. His eyes are wild and soft all at once, like hes seeing you clearly for the first time and cant believe youre real. His thumb brushes the sweat, damp hair from your cheek. Then he leans in and kisses you slow this time. Gentle. Reverent. Like hes trying to say everything hes too wrecked to speak aloud.

“I meant it” you whisper against his lips.

His brow furrows slightly, like he doesnt trust his own ears. “Meant what?”

“That Im yours.”

Something shifts in his face. A crack. A flood. He kisses you again, deeper this time, like hes sealing it.

He pulls out carefully, and you gasp, not from pain, but from the sudden emptiness. He watches your face as he does, thumb tracing circles on your thigh, grounding you through the sensitivity. His cum leaks out of you, sticky and warm against your inner thighs. He watches that too, eyes dark with something thats not just lust anymore. Possession. Pride. Something tender and dangerous all at once.

Jake gets up without a word, grabs a clean towel from the dresser, and kneels between your legs like he did earlier, only now, the heats softer. He cleans you up slowly, almost reverently, taking care with every swipe. Like youre something precious.

“You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.

You nod, reaching for him. “Get back here.”

He grins, tired, satisfied and climbs into bed beside you, pulling the covers up over both of you. You curl into him, your leg slung over his hip, your head tucked under his chin. His arms wrap around you instantly, like muscle memory. Like theyve always known how to hold you.

“Im not letting you go” he murmurs into your hair.

“You better fucking not.”

He chuckles, low and warm. You feel it more than hear it, rumbling through your chest like a promise.

And for the first time in forever, you dont just feel good. You feel kept.

[gamblersdoll]

PLSSSS BACKSHOTSSS W ANYONE OF UR CHOICE BUT READER W A FATTIE 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾 IBEG

hmmmm… nsfw, semi sorta rough sex, backshots with fifty pounds of ass, semi porn with no plot. semi anal.

he was infatuated with you, obsessed, even.

you both really just met at the corner store, you trying to grab something and he attempts to grab the same thing. his hands were cold, it radiates off of him and you lock eyes.

and now hes checking in on you. popping up at your doorstep, job, and sometimes a friends house. he knows your favorite flowers now, and favorite food.

but he also knows how much you love being used for pleasure.

and thats exactly what he does, forcing the deepest arch until your back becomes a little sore. he kisses the depth line in your back, but pulling his his back and slamming them back down into you. if it was one thing he loved, he loved how heavy your ass was.

shit, even with his big hands, he cant hold all of it up.

“kamoooo!” you moan out, soft growls from trying to take all eleven of him in was too much. he growls back, the clench and clamps of your walls were throwing him for a fucking loop.

he loves your ass too much, definitely when he pulls himself out to spread the flesh apart and lick your puckered hole. he moans at the taste, how tight he knows it is. he mumbles a soft ‘fuck..’ and he spits on it.

aligning his cock back to your slit, he twirls your hair around his hand and pulls it back. his cock twitches, him starting off with a slow pace and then speeding up to the previous one. his moans come from his dick, it has to.

“does this feel good, princess?” he asks, smiling soft when he sees you nod with excitement as your face gets deeper into the mattress. he slaps your left cheek, gripping it after and gritting his teeth together. “yeah? how fucking much?”

“so so much, kamo…” you mumble, earning another slap to the same spot and it hurts so good.

“sorry, didnt hear you.” he grits out again, his cock becoming meaner by each second and shifting into that one spot that feels so good but different.

your eyes roll at that, nasty thing.

“so muhch!” you garble, nails ripping some of the comforter and tears well within your eyes.

“there you go, baby.” he praises, putting a knee up and looking at where both of you meet. he watches how his cock sinks in and out of your creamy white slit. “know you cant cum anymore for tonight, but i still need you.”

you nod only, knowing how good this feels? this was that kind of dick that only came every once a couple weeks.

he spits on your ass again, spreading it with his thumb to leave a shimmer on it and tosses his head back. “fuck, fuck, im close.” he whines, pushing your arched ass down and strokes himself. he silently curses when you wiggle your ass to him, it only takes a little move to have your whole ass jiggling.

he breathes heavier when he watches his seed dribble onto your skin, the fluid feeling so warm. it could potentially be burning. but it felt too good to even care, so you moan at that.

he finally collects himself, taking a hand pinching the middle and under of your ass to shake it just a bit before he leaves you for the night. “fuck, i love this.” he says, pressing a sloppy kiss from your ass, to your lower back, up, up, onto the back of your neck and then your cheek. “i love you.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 16: Struggling

Word Count: 658

Rating: T

CW: Langauge

Summary: A letter from Eddie to you. Yes, YOU.

@corrodedcoffinfest

Hello Fellow Freaks,

So, it’s come to my attention that things have been a little rough for you lately, huh? Shit, I know all about that. I’d recap some of the misfortunes I’ve had in my life, but seeing as you read and write about me, I think you’re pretty up to speed. In fact, some of you have written me struggling as a way for you to feel better about your own. And I don’t mind that at all. That’s what I’m here for, anyway. I belong to you. I’m for you. 

You all bring me to life every time you click on a new story and choose to take an adventure with me. The fact that you want to spend time with a freak like me blows my mind sometimes. 

You know I was never cool or popular. Maybe you weren’t either. I honestly never gave a shit because I had the most metal people around me. I hope that you do too. But even if you don’t, you’re more than welcome to share my friends. All us lost sheep know what it’s like to struggle. 

And if you’re struggling right now, there’s something I want to let you know. It’s okay.

It’s okay that you’re struggling right now. We all do it and we all need it sometimes to help mold us into whatever we’re supposed to be. Sometimes struggle makes us work harder. Sometimes it makes us curl up in a ball and want to hide away forever. The curling up part of that is okay, but the hiding away forever isn’t.

You’re stronger than you think you are. Wondering how I know this, are you? Little known fact is that I’m actually a pretty smart dude. Occasionally. Anyway, here’s the answer: you’re here. You’ve overcome all the struggles of your past to be where you are now. And if you could do it then, you can do it again now and in the future. That strength is inside of you. I promise. Sometimes it just takes some effort and patience to find where it’s stored. 

Know what else is awesome? Not only do you have me when you’re struggling, you have the others who write and read stories about me. Because even if it doesn’t seem like it, they’re struggling with something too. Carrying the burden isn’t as heavy when you’ve got someone to shoulder it with you. Help ease one another’s loads. I’m trying so hard not to make a cum joke right now. 

It doesn’t matter if you’re in pain, so you want to write me in pain to cope, or if you want to read about me taking care of you and helping you through it. It’s beautiful how I can be there in any way that you need me. I’m there with you to celebrate, cry, laugh, heal, and even some spicier stuff I will not get into here. Even if I enjoy it very much.

No matter how hard life tries to make you feel like you’re isolated, you’re not. Hell, I hid out in a vacant house for a few days where not a single person knew I was. Lonely? Yeah. Very. There’s only so many cans of Chef Boyardee you can look at without wanting to start up a conversation with the guy on the label. And yeah, it did get to me at times. I felt that there was no one out there who would believe me or see my side of things. Goddamn surprise to find out I had way more people in my corner than I ever would’ve guessed. I just didn’t know it yet. That group of people is there for you, too. Even if you don’t know it yet. 

And I’m one of those people. If you ever forget that, all you have to do is start a new story, and there I am. 

From

Signed

Your Dungeon Master

Love,

Eddie

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

hey, since your request are open, can you write a Yandere Russia x reader? A scenario where the reader is a foreigner and he goes in reader's country to meet some important businessmen, just to fall for reader who was just standing in front of a store like🧍. Thank you❤️

Yandere Russia seeing reader for the first time

note: i loved this idea so much. thank you anon. this'll be in russia's point of view, and i'm sorry it took me so long. like really long.. to do this. if you request anything else pls specify that it's you so i can make it priority and make up for it by being faster next time.. just like add a star to it or some shit like that. i hope this is what u wanted but im not certain :(

!! yandere content. if you can't handle any behavior possibly seen in a yandere please don't read this. !! (example; obsessive, stalkery, possessive, violent, or generally horrid behaviour.)

It was late when Russia was finally allowed to leave. Not his worst work day, but certainly not his lightest. Actually, he's been rather busy, this being his third country in this week alone. Luckily though, he's finally able to have some peace. Stroll around and take a view of the surrounding cityscape around him. He feels a bit out of place, but that's to be expected. It's something he's used to (even in his own country..)

But as he's walking, something hits him. He hasn't ate today. Too caught up in the busy-ness of the morning to even had thought about it. And he really doesn't want to enter a resturaunt, or cook at the hotel.. So he settles on something simpler. He'll just get himself a quick meal at a corner store, whatever pre-made thing is available really he isn't picky.. Had too hard of a life to be choosy with things such as food.

Looking through the streets, he finally finds one. The bright lights of the sign a bit bright as he looks at it too long.. He squints, blinking a bit to regain his sight and looking down to- oh? At this hour? He stares for a moment before slowly looking in the other direction, just to be sure he won't get noticed. God, they're gorgeous. So much so he doesn't even feel hungry anymore, or exhausted, or anything. It's like the very presence of this mysterious stranger just caught him. Something he struggles to not rocket focus on, and he hasn't a clue why. Blinking, he looks down at the road. Why's he so focused on this random person just looking at the signs in front of the store window tonight? Maybe he's just so tired he can't focus.

Shaking his head, Russia walks across the street and goes past them, having to use every tiny bit of control he has to not gawk at them the entire time as he goes through the door. Making his way in-between shoves, he decides to just try and not get caught absolutely enamored by this beautiful individual he just found himself. Carefully looking through all the chips and jerky and whatnot he decides to lean down and settle on some potatoe chips. An easy answer. And as soon as he stand back up, his eyes conveniently land right back on the very person from earlier! They went in after him and yet they're checking out earlier. He looks over their outfit, then the counter. What they got looks good..

Putting his chips back up, he goes to the back of the store. Where is it all.. Grabbing the drink you got from the fridge before looking all about the store to get the rest. And he sighs once he finishes. He sort of wishes he didn't decide to avoid you, internally kicking himself in the ass for making that decision. Quickly getting his items checked out, he steps outside the door, looking both ways.. There. Turning. He follows you at a steady speed, not too slow, not too fast. But then, a crowd spawns from the middle of norwhere as you're passing a street and.. Your gone. He looks around, but there aren't any signs of you anywhere. Standing at the sidewalk of the intersection, he sighs, frowning. Just as quick as you showed up, you dissapeared.

He doesn't know why, but he has a feeling this person will haunt his mind until he finally finds them again. Hell- they already are. And it's making him increasingly frustrated that he didn't try and come up to you. His grip tightening a bit on the bag, he makes a promsie to himself. He'll find you. Even if it's the last thing he'll do.. He'll find you.

[amybizarre]

RF Wally (Haunted Morgue)

Working the nightshift in the factory's morgue is about the worst shift anyone could get. Not because of the work itself, no. Depending on how you view it of course.

The work in the morgue wasn't too complicated. You are given a number of bodies all wrapped in body bags and stored in morgue freezers. They're mostly failed test subjects or subjects that have gone through the spectra extraction process on the Pegasus Device. Sometimes... They're unlucky workers though, who have fallen victim to either the machines or the bosses wrath...

Either way, your job then is to simply burn them all in the crematorium. Simple, right? Well... The terrifying part only starts when you run out of things to do and are left sitting there, having to wait for the end of your shift. Only then are you no longer able to ignore the little noises or happenings around you. Like taps from the insides of the freezers. Or lights turning off by themselves. Or whispers from just around the corner.

As soon as your work is finished, you are forced to just... Sit there. And listen to them. Feeling one shiver after the other crawl down your spine.

Tonight, you were that unlucky employee. Unfortunately there wasn't much for you to do. There were only three bodies to burn and after one and a half hours of work, you were left with six and a half hours of waiting before being allowed to clock out. Seriously, who scheduled this shift?!

Anyway, after burning the last body you tried to busy yourself with cleaning and desinfecting the already sterile morgue freezers. Maybe you'll even mop the floors later, just so you could pretend to be busy. But the ghosts didn't care about your plans.

First the light above your head flickered. You tried to ignore it and kept wiping down the freezer door you were currently cleaning. But then it turned off entirely and you heard a whisper in the now dark room.

"Help me"

Both, hot and cold flashes shot through your body and you scrambled toward the light switch. You had to flick it at least twice before the light came on again.

When it did...

The room was empty.

You stared at the scene for a moment, frozen in shock and breathing deeply. Trying to process what had happened.

Until the freezer door you were just working on just shut by itself.

Although the movement was slow, the resulting clang of the door was loud enough to make you jump out of your shocked state and into a sprint up the stairs. Classic morgue, always in the basement.

Fuckfuckfuck- No way in hell am I dealing with this, nu uh!

Frantic thoughts crammed your brain as you ascended the stairs to ground level at light speed. Maybe you could wait out your shift in the lobby. Or better yet, the cafeteria! Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. If you were lucky enough, Howdy would be there too. He managed the cafeteria and had spent your breaks during nightshifts with you there multiple times. Each time you found yourself spooked by things in the factory, he'd have a cup of tea and some encouraging words for you at the ready.

Ahh, friends were a great thing to have.

As you sheepishly shuffled through the lobby towards the cafeteria you were painfully aware of the security cameras following your every move. If anyone asked you about this, you'd tell them you were on an early break. Which wasn't even a lie, to be fair. There was just no way to drag you back down to the morgue for the better part of at least two hours....

Much to your dismay, you didn't find Howdy in the cafeteria though. In his stead, you found the bossman himself. Dr Darling, getting himself some coffee at the self serve station.

You stopped dead in your tracks and stared at the notoriously grumpy man's back for a while.

Shit. You didn't feel like explaining to him that you were scared of ghosts. He was a man of science! He wouldn't buy it and call you lazy!

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.", the boss grumbled, his back still facing you as he stirred his cup.

Well frick. No use hiding now. You didn't know what to say in your defense, so just shamefully redirected your gaze at the floor.

In your peripheral vision, Dr Darling turned around to you. Upon seeing your pale face and shaky limbs, he arched a brow.

A beat of silence. He cleared his throat.

"Alright, fine.", he sighed almost begrudgingly. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated. Should you just tell him? What's the worst that could happen?

"The morgue's haunted and I'm not going back down!", you suddenly blurted out, shutting your eyes tightly. Way to go.

He sighed. "This rumor again?"

You frantically shook your head and explained to him what happened. Now that you were saying it out loud it sounded kinda lame.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it tiredly. "Look, I'm sure whatever happened down there can be explained rationally. Let's go down and check."

He was already on his way past you and out the door, but your petrified expression made him stop.

Geez, when did your knees become so wobbly...? You had to lean on the wall for support, quietly shaking your head again.

"N-No, please...!"

Dr Darling stared you down, coffee cup clutched in his prosthetic hand.

"...Did you finish all your work down there?"

"Yeah."

Another sigh from him and he put a hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards a table.

"There. Sit down. I'll go check it out myself."

You quietly sat down. He left, presumably to go and do as he said. You nervously twiddled your thumbs, anxious thoughts still running high. Waiting got tiresome and unbearable fairly quickly. To occupy yourself with something else than the scary morgue you got up and made yourself some tea.

Soon you were sat down again, cradling the warm cup between your hands. About five minutes later, Dr Darling returned.

He was notably paler now and stared at you wide eyed.

"Holy fuck-", was all he said.

"Yup, tell me about it.", you replied, staring at your own reflection on the tea.

He sat down across from you, mimicing your posture. For a while that was all you two were doing. Nobody dared interrupt the thoughts of the other. Eventually you took heart.

"Soooo, I don't have to go back there, right?"

"Considering that you're all finished with tonight's bodies... You're dismissed." He only gave in reluctantly. But you were relieved either way.

Deciding to take the teacup with you, you got up.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be heading to bed then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

[tactical-jellyfish]

For Joanna (pt. 2/3)

Warnings: Nikolai is still a depressed bisexual man, google-translated Russian because I am writing this after two exams, in other news, reader finally figures out what feelings are and why they keep experiencing the pesky buggers. In other news, my hand is hurty and currently in a brace, but I refuse to fully rest it, so I'm writing anyway, but there might be minor spelling errors as my usual typing speed and rhythm is very much off.

Having a friend is... a new experience that you really happen to like.

Nikolai doesn't hang out often, but he's on the same wave as you when he is. Drinking slow and chatting, sometimes taking turns poking at the other's music taste because really, Nik? What is that shit? It's not "rock", I'll tell you that.

It's new, yes but... easy, so you let him closer than anyone else. When he brings his crackers, you bring your own snack in turn, an old favorite from the only corner store in your hometown that carried the brand, it used to be something you only ate with family, only on holidays. Now, you share it with Nikolai. And it's–it's not bad, not at all.

You'll admit, you're getting used to him. You like having him in the shop now, quiet or not.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ So, it turns out, you are far too stupid to know how to have a friend, even months into befriending your favorite pilot.

Granted, you've never been... the brightest, when it comes to social matters. And you know that, you accept it. But that doesn't make it any easier when another joke you had tried to give the Russian at your side in jest makes him pull back again, makes those pretty brown eyes point toward his glass instead. Calling it a glass is charitable, that thing is dirt cheap and made of plastic, your idiot brain adds, in some vain hope to not think about the fact that you seemingly bruised your best friend's feelings with the playful barb (Yes, Nikolai was your closest friend as of right now. No, you wouldn't be saying that aloud if you could help it).

You really didn't know why it seemed to make Nikolai recoil so hard so fast, to you it had just been a simple joke, because god, that English guy with the beard sure did talk nice about you, huh, Nik? I wonder about that sometimes. And seemingly, that had been squarely the wrong thing. So, you did the very best you could to backtrack when you saw him put his hands on his knees, almost dropping the glass in your hands as you race to meet him as he stands.

Maybe he doesn't see the panic in your wide eyes, maybe he chooses to ignore it because you've seemingly done so wrong by him that he'll just leave forever and never talk to you again, and- "мне пора идти, пока." You, admittedly, haven't picked up very much of his language yet, but you know that last part means goodbye and some part of your brain simply cannot let that happen. Nikolai doesn't say his goodbyes like this, he pats you on the shoulder and smiles, sometimes winks as he closes the door behind him.

His face is flat. It scares you.

So, you being the fool you are, grab his arm like he owes you money, take the cracked leather of his jacket into your hands, feel the dry texture because he forgot to take care of this one (it had since become his de-facto flying jacket) and hold. "Wait, Nik, please, whatever I said, I didn't mean to, just-"

You are not a person who sounds desperate. You are independent and you are a sharp bastard. So why are you stand here like a kid on their first day of school, desperately clinging onto your only lifeline to the outside world? You were supposed to like being a hermit, you've been fine for years now.

Nikolai seems to see this, and, despite his better interests, he pauses before he talks. Still flat, like he's barking out an order. "Do not speak of that. Not of John, and not like that." Ice water replaces every last cell of blood in your veins. What did you do? How did you get Nikolai to flip from being the single friendliest person (at least, an asshole like you) to the icy, distant tone that you knew you deserved?

You'll never say that you deflate under his pinning stare, but you know you did, to some extant, mentally riffling through every memory you had of the captain and all he said of the pilot. Nothing.

At least, nothing that would imply Nikolai was this willing to seemingly entirely cut ties with you because you had tried to make light of it.

Your brain never catches what's going on around you when you think like that. It doesn't catch the way he sighs or the slight remorse in his eyes at shutting off so hard, seemingly sending you into a tailspin. черт возьми, right. The Russian scolds himself for that in his mind. The mechanic is not often socialized. He takes a minute to stand, watch the emotions play across your face. Can't hide a thing. The touch of a callused hand pulls you from your thoughts for long enough to look back at him, and then at the big hand on your shoulder.

"Apologies. I have neglected to inform you of something personal to me."

To your shock, you aren't socked in the jaw, but rather, gently herded back into your (garbage) lawn chair (in the garage) and then Nikolai is before you, and he tells you a long, long story.

Of being young and in the military, before he branched off and did his own thing. Of falling head over ass for squarely the wrong person. Not because he had been bad, but because John was a man who knew his own values, and didn't make exceptions.

By the time the solemn tangent is finally concluded, you feel like hot garbage. In some part, because your friend is suffering under the weight of early-twenties feelings at least a decade later, but mostly because you dug that hurt back up. Unknowingly, yes, but you reminded Nik of love that wouldn't ever be given to him.

You've never been the sort to handle words. This whole incident proves that, so, instead, you reach out slowly. It isn't often you hug people, even less often you do it without them explicitly asking, but Nikolai seems to like hugs. You give him more than enough time to back out anyway.

He doesn't.

Instead, for a length of time that is between you two and the higher being (or lack thereof) of your choice. You hold each other in the shop.

"I'm sorry. I wouldn't have ever said it if I had known, I don't want to hurt you, Nik, I just-"

You're choking on words and apologies, some needy, selfish-feeling plea to just hold on to your friend, keep him around and not upset with you.

"I understand. Simple mistakes, yes?"

It's a heavenly mercy that is extended to you in that moment, Nikolai holding you by the shoulders just to pull back enough to smile at you, cheeks rounded and eyes crinkling at the corners, warming the lovely dried-mud color you'd grown attached to.

"Yeah, simple mistakes." Your voice contrasts his, a bit more shaky, still unsteady as you pull your mind back together.

In the silence, momentary and short, you decide there is one more than that much be said. You blurt it out before you can do any better thinking on it.

"You're a friend to me, Nikolai. A good one."

There's a soft chuckle, and a hand tenderly splaying over the small of your back as you're pulled close, flush to the warm oil-and-engine smell that always seems to hang on Nikolai more than you, despite this being your literal job.

His voice is warm again, you can feel his smile even if you can't see it.

"You are a friend too, механик. Very good."

[trivialbob]

I was tagged by @mstacobelle and @littlerunnergurl: Name 5 things that really irritate you, and what you do to keep that irritation from turning you into a serial killer, or just slapping people on a street corner in your town.

Let's see.

When the grocery store has a sign that says 4 for $10 or $2.99 each. I am accustomed to that horrible pricing at convenience stores but hate that my grocery store has started to adopt the "or" practice. So I simply refuse to buy one OR four of that item at the grocery store, no matter how much I want it. I have many little personal boycotts. They bring me much satisfaction, even if store managers don't notice it.

When the grocery store has a sign that says 4 for $10. Period. Bob! What's the problem? The problem is when my wife wants to buy all four items even if we only need one. No, no, no. 4 for $10 with no footnote means we can buy one item for $2.50. Yet she still wants to buy four. This is why I never complain if she hands me a grocery list, and I shop by myself. The savings are in my control!

Drivers who disrupt the smooth flow of traffic. Those who drive way too fast or a bit slower or even the speed limit if the rest of the vehicles are going faster. Awful. Or the people who brake on the highway, start to exit, and only then use a turn signal. Isn't there some sort of social contract or state law that says be predictable and don't disrupt your fellow travelers' lives, even if you are hyper-miling in your hybrid or pleasing Gaia by making that turn signal bulb last longer by using it less? I cope by thinking these drivers are someone's lovable grandparents. I wouldn't have lost my shit at my grandparents. When I'm following a slow driver and being tailgated by an aggressive one, I love to simply move over and watch the two jerks annoy each other.

Centipedes. Damn, even if every insect is one of God's creatures, centipedes creep me out beyond belief. Any living thing with more legs than a tarantula is heinous, except those puffy green caterpillars. A centipede in my house makes me shriek. Satisfaction is derived from spinning the monster to death in the vacuum cleaner or feeling a satisfying smush from stepping on it. They're only targets inside the house. Outside they are fine.

"Special" episodes of TV shows. A black and white episode, to be artistic? Ick. A musical version? Yawn. Seinfeld S09E08, with the Indian wedding where the timeline was in reverse? Not for me. Even worse are "Very Special" episodes, often with music-less endings and nowadays a toll-free number appearing on screen. The Bicycle Man episode of Diff'rent Strokes was one of the first. It was a "sit-com" episode about child molestation. Just because a comedy show is (or used to be) entertaining and popular doesn't mean it has to "start a conversation." The remote control, or the round knob on the TV when I was 12-years-old, provided relief.

[mayasaurusss]

Just like in the movies

Pairings: platonic (for now) Spider-Van! X fem!reader

Synopsis: you have an interesting meeting after escaping death.

Warnings: from strangers to friends, comical (Don't take this as my normal writing, I can do better I swear), gender neutral Van, use of every common trope (seriously I'm ashamed of myself) -ooc Van- inspired by ITSV, not proofread.

Enjoy! :)

The tick tacking of your desk clock stirred you from your trance. It was currently 5:12 pm, outside darkness fell, the city being brightened by traffic lights.

Your hands covered your face, trying to rub the tiredness off of it, glaring at your notes and piles of books lying on your desk. Despite the necessity to relax and sleep, you needed to suppress it: you were in the last few weeks of your finals, you needed to push your limits just a bit more, then you'd be free -for some time- and this torture would be over.

Groaning, you carried your heavy body torwards the bathroom, turned on cold water and hopped into the shower. Cold showers were the only thing that could wake you up, alongside with coffee.

Your kitchen cupboard was completely empty, not a trace of coffee or any other energy-inducing food.

"Shit..."

You didn't feel like going to the coffee shop just around the corner from your apartment, you certainly could not stomach the idea of talking with the old lady at the counter, she could always bring up the most random topics and start a one sided conversation that could last up to 45 minutes.

There was a small convenience store some streets away from you, if you went there you could buy tonight's dinner, alongside with some well deserved -shitty- coffee.

You lazily put on some pants, a sweater a, jacket and a scarf to shield yourself from the cold New York weather; grabbing your backpack and your wallet, you got out of the apartment.

Outside, thin snow fell on your skin, freezing the tip of your nose and hurting your cheeks, it was a welcomed feeling after the almost unbreakable trance of your studies.

"Come on, you just have to pass this lasts tests and it's over" reminding yourself.

The past few weeks felt like an eternity.

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a truck speeding torwards you.

Someone shouted out, and you realized the situation you were in a little too late, your whole life flashing in your eyes as you stared at the truck lights, not making an effort to move at all.

Your sight shifted when you felt someone pulling you in their arms, your view changed drastically: you weren't staring at the truck lights anymore but gazed on New York City skyline.

"W-what...?" your eyes contemplated the city, too lost in the view to notice what was happening to you. When you began falling down again, you let out a scream of terror and gripped tightly whatever -whoever- lifted you up in the air.

Laughter filled the space "That's everyone's first reaction, but don't worry, you'll get used to it soon" you heard from the person holding you.

"What the actual fuck is happening?!" voice hoarse from the sheer terror you felt.

"Ow, stop holding so tight! You're hurting me!" you turned your head to see that the person who hold you had a mask and was watching you intently.

"You look hot" whoever was under the mask said smugly, their eyes -eye-holes?- winked at you.

"I don't think this is the right time to say stuff like that!"

With force, you were pulled torwards a building and placed on the rooftop.

You huffed heavy puffs of air out of your lungs and looked incredulous at whoever swooped you up.

Now you could see them at full body length: they were covered in a suit, red on the top and chest, a dark shade of blue colored the sides and legs. A spider figure was drawn on their chest, paint slightly dripped down, smudging the edges.

They wore a mask with comically large eyes, staring down at you, a heavy silence filled the air.

"Hi" their voice echoed out.

"Hi..."

"Are you ok? You risked a lot down there you know?" you peered down at the street looking where you were almost killed.

"Yes... Thank you" you whispered, you got up on your wobbly legs, still shaking violently with fear.

"Careful, go slow" their arms wrapped around your sides, steadying your swaying figure, you held on tight to their arms

"I am sorry if I sound rude but...who are you?"

"Are you kidding?! You don't know me?" they shout out, their -comically large spider-eyes- widened out and arms spreading "Seriously?!" you shook your head.

Letting go of your body, they ran up and over the edge, making your legs wobbly again in fear "I am..."

They got into a super-hero pose, their arms resting on their sides, chin high. "The Amazing Spiderman!" "..." "And who's that supposed to be?" you asked genuinely confused. "...the superhero?"

"I've- I've never heard of you..."

"Never?!" their -comically large- eyes widened, their voice sounded hurt.

"Huh, that may be 'cause I'm kinda new, y'know? Just got in the business" they murmured, scratching their neck to ease tension.

"How did you do it?"

"You mean the swinging?" you nodded.

"I was bit by a radioactive spider, now I just kinda shoot webs from my wrists and stick to buildings, y'know?"

"Ah, I see. Kinda cool" you truly didn't know what to say, too dumbfounded to formulate a response: for the last minutes you experienced something that was really, really out of the ordinary.

"Yeah it is, sometimes when I have to go to work I just swing over there!" returning from their place on the edge and got closer to you.

"Look" they showed you their wrist, on the suit near the base of the hand sat a watch-like object.

"They're called weeb shooters, someone made them for me" showing you their gadget, they shot out a small weeb string in between their fingers and showed you.

"Whoa...does it really stick to things that well? It looks frail"

"Yes, it can support my weight easily, plus some more added weight" they said, winking at you.

"Oh stop it" you lightly shoved them, before bringing your hands to your sides, trying to bring heat to your body. "Hey, are you cold?" they said.

"Yeah, I was actually supposed to go to the store before that...inconvenience"

"Where is it?" you told them the location.

You felt yourself get pulled to them, their right arm hugged your body tightly with surprising strength,

"Let me give you a swing there"

"Are you crazy?! I'm don't want to 'swing' there!" you screamed, terrified to relive the experience of before.

"Relax, I won't let you fall! " they prepared themselves, their muscles flexing under their suit.

"How are you sure of that?"

"I never failed"

"This might be the first tim- woah!" you hadn't the time to respond, as a web shot from their wrist to the other side of the street and with strength, you were pulled from your position and were now 'swinging' in between buildings.

"Don't look down!" they said to you, adjusting their grip on your body

"If you say that, of course I'm gonna look down!" you clenched to their figure, hoping to not fall in the void.

"Don't you feel lucky to be given a ride from 'Spiderman'?" voice full of pride, when they didn't receive your answer they looked at you, trembling and eyes shut.

"Don't worry, we're almost there" the movement ceased and lowly dropping torwards the street.

Your feet touched the ground, finally.

Your legs felt unsteady when you standed up, holding on their body as they put you down.

You steadied yourself and looked at them

"Thank you, really, for everything" waiting for a response, Spiderman shifted uncomfortably under your gaze

"Hey, I was thinking...would you like to be my friend?"

"Friend? You wanna be friends? Why?"

"I mean, this kind of stuff is the things that happens in movies, I would like to take this chance" fingers moving nervously against one another.

"Would you like, then?" seeming almost scared of your rejection.

"Of course!" grabbing your backpack, you searched for a pen and a pieve of paper, quickly writing your number on it.

"Here, mysterious 'spiderman' " you folded it and took their hand, gently placing the note on their palm.

"I have to go now" you said, walking to the entrance of the store, before turning and smiling at the masked figure "I hope we'll be great friends".

Van stared at the store entrance, not moving an inch of their body and without words left.

They didn't know why they felt this way, it was almost like an electric shook throughout their body. Filled with adrenaline, they webbed onto a surface building and set off into the night, under the incredulous stares of people.

Some minutes later, the window of their apartment opened and Van entered inside the living room.

"Where have you been? Fighting crime again?" Taissa's voice spoke from the couch.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't tell you" Van said, taking off their mask.

"I met someone, she was about to have an incident but I saved her" they looked at Taissa on the couch, too busy with scrolling through her phone "Cool".

Van stripped from their suit, left it in the laundry basket and slid in the shower.

Finally, they laid on the soft bed, feeling their muscles relaxing after the long day spent at the store and casually saving lives. Their head pressed against their arms, eyes shut remembering the events of the day.

Overlooking Brooklyn's view, the spider-senses tingled when they saw someone carelessly crossing the street, they noticed a truck coming torwards the figure. In an attempt to warn them, Van tried to shout but whoever it was, they didn't move.

"Shit!" they jumped from the building and tried to make it to the person before it was too late.

Thankfully they did, their arm sliding and catching whoever it was just before a tragedy could happen.

Arms shaking from the adrenaline, they noticed the girl in their arms screaming and their first reaction was to release a laugh, but when they looked at her words left from their mouth completely: whoever she was, she captivated Van's senses.

In a mess of emotions, the firsts words that left their mouth were "You look hot".

" You look hot"?! What was I thinking?!

Their hands flew to their face, trying to rub the blush off of their cheeks.

When remembering how she looked at them after giving her number, they softened and exhaled a breath.

They slid down the covers, eyelids heavy, before letting out a sigh and drifting to sleep.

"Like...in the movies..."

[purposefully-lost]

Going through my drafts and I found this drabble I started and never finished about Oscar/the ghost guy and the person he died with 😔❤️

---

He used to tell Natalie that she should've gone to Hollywood. Not because she would've made it as an actress, exactly. She was gorgeous, he'd known that better than anyone, but he'd played enough poker with her to also know that she couldn't act for shit. No, she belonged in the movies because she was the best driver he'd ever known.

A hundred miles an hour, tailed by cops or who knew what? Never phased her a day in her life. She could lose anyone from behind the wheel, could get them anywhere in record time, never had a real close call. It wasn't just cars, built for speed, that she could handle, either; put her in the seat of a dirtbike or a harley or a minivan, it didn't matter what, and she had the kind of control over it that most people thought only existed with some clever movie magic. Natalie was the real deal, though. Born to be a stunt driver. That's exactly what he'd told her. All the time. All the time, he'd tell her, you should be getting paid for this. A Hollywood salary, though, not a cut of however much they managed to pull from a bank or a corner store or whatever unfortunate target they'd landed on next.

I'll take you, he'd promised her. The minute they had enough saved up to make it out west. No one would care where they'd come from or where they'd been, just that she could hit 140 and never fear for a second that she'd lose control. Sitting in her passenger seat, he'd always trusted her with his life.

[andorerso]

Rebelcaptain Whumptober: Day 10

for the prompt "Stranded" (warnings: character death, but not Jyn or Cassian. it's Melshi. also zombies)

Curled up in the corner, legs pulled up against her chest, Jyn scratched at the bite mark on her wrist. It was getting itchy. Not a good sign.

Across from her, next to the cashier’s desk, Andor was still staring at the mangled corpse of his… friend? Boyfriend? Brother? She had no idea what they were to each other, but she didn’t think Andor had moved a muscle since the man took his last gurgling breath so she gathered they were close.

Everything went to shit so quickly.

Jyn’s people had been battling another group of survivors to seize control over the area for months now. Small skirmishes here and there, taking out a scout or two, capturing and interrogating members for intel. Nothing major so far, but it was all building up to something. The Rogues had supplies Jyn’s people so desperately needed; food, medicine, water… But the Partisans had weapons and the advantage of an old US military base that anyone would be envious of.

Yavin County wasn’t big enough for both groups. A conflict was inevitable, and they had been preparing for this battle for months. Here, at the ruins of the small town that separated their two bases, was supposed to be the last stand. Jyn had her targets in sight, had spent countless nights pouring over the intel they had, deciding who would need to be eliminated first, who was their weakest link, who could spell trouble… She was to take out their best soldiers, leaving room for others to sneak into their base and ambush their leaders. The rest of the group would then scatter or fall into line.

Yeah, sure. When were things ever that easy?

Nobody counted on the fucking horde that showed up. The new recruits panicked, took off on their own or got swept up in the first wave, while the braver ones attempted to take out as many undead as they could. That went about just as well as panicking.

Rule number one: you didn’t fight a horde. You ran.

Saw called a retreat, but Jyn was too in the thick of it to make it back to her jeep in time. She’d ridden with Reece Tallent, and the fucker couldn’t care less that not everyone returned. He took off at full speed with whoever was on board as soon as he jumped into the vehicle; the rest of them? Tough luck.

Then there was that stupid bite, of course.

Jyn fired a bullet between the zombie’s eyes, but the damage was already done. Partisans and Rogues alike were fleeing. The horde was advancing. She couldn’t make it back to one of the jeeps now, even if she wanted to. Some of them still lingered while they waited for the last survivors to jump inside, but running into the thick of the horde was suicide. The only thing she could think to do was take up shelter in the hardware store across the street.

She wasn’t the only one left behind, it turned out. She saw one of the Rogues running to make it to a truck that was just leaving when three zombies toppled him to the ground. Somebody from the car yelled “No!”, and out of the corner of her eyes, Jyn saw a man jump from the back of the truck to try and rescue his friend. The car took off without them in a cloud of smoke.

Jyn didn’t stop to help. That man was a fool; one of the undead went for the jugular, his friend was as good as dead. But that didn’t stop him from dragging his bloody and barely conscious body to the hardware store, and damn it, they may be her enemy, but even she wasn’t cruel enough to leave them out there to be torn apart by the horde. Curse her bleeding heart.

The man pulled his friend inside, and Jyn slammed the doors shut just in time. Bodies crashed against the glass, mindless in their pursuit to get inside. Clashing teeth, decaying flesh, dead eyes staring at her with hunger. Jyn stood there for a second in frozen shock.

Then she snapped into action, finding the nearest shelf in the store and attempting to push it against the door.

“Fucking help me, will you?” she hissed at the Rogue. He turned his head to glance at her, and she finally recognized him as Andor.

Who knew he was so selfless?

With a quick look at his convulsing friend on the ground, — definitely dead, Jyn decided, he was missing half his throat — Andor got up and helped her push the shelf in place. She wasn’t sure how long it��d hold, but it was better than nothing. Andor immediately returned to his friend, grasping his cheeks in his hands, murmuring something.

Jyn had the decency not to eavesdrop, but even from the spot she claimed in the corner, she heard it clear as day when his gurgles turned silent.

She glanced at them. His body had stopped twitching, his eyes staring into nothing. Andor’s head was bowed, one of his hands grasping the man’s jacket, his shoulders shaking. It wouldn’t take long before he turned…

Luckily, Jyn didn’t have to voice that. With an audible inhale, Andor lifted his head, retrieved a dagger from his pocket, and slid it into his friend’s head. Killing the brain before the virus had time to reanimate him. The action seemed strangely gentle for what it was.

Then he placed the dagger on his dead friend’s chest and went completely motionless. Still crouching by him, still clutching his jacket, still staring at his lifeless eyes. He just turned off.

After an hour, Jyn couldn’t take it anymore. She had tuned out the banging on the glass, she had tuned out the horrible groans and rattles, she had tuned out the uncomfortable stares of dead people. She tried not to think about her own impending doom, tried not to wonder who made it from her group and who hadn’t.

But her eyes kept wandering back to Andor, waiting for him to move, to say something. Kneeling right in front of her line of vision, he was impossible to ignore.

Oh, fuck it.

Jyn stood from the corner, slowly approaching. He didn’t look up when she stopped by him, but she shrugged out of her jacket, using it to cover his friend’s mangled body.

Andor finally lifted his head, and their eyes met. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, his expression smooth as stone, but she held his gaze and said nothing. They didn’t know each other, and I’m sorry would have been fucking offensive when under different circumstances, she might have been the one to kill his friend. She couldn’t act like she cared. But… it was a gesture. Because she knew what it was like to lose someone.

The silence that stretched between them should have been uncomfortable, but it seemed like he understood. He glanced away, finally releasing his death grip on his friend’s jacket, and sat back against the cashier’s desk. Jyn took that as a success.

She made it back to her corner, a little unsteady on her feet. The world tilted for a second. Shit… She clutched her wrist again. How long before the fever kicked in?

When she sat back down, Andor was watching her curiously.

“What’s your name?”

“Jyn,” she replied, her tone clipped.

“I’m Cassian.” His gaze strayed towards his friend’s body, a flash of grief in his eyes. “And his name was Melshi.” Determination hardened his features as he stood up. In a tone that left no room for argument, he continued, “I’m getting out here.”

Jyn snorted. “Good luck with that.”

He shot her an annoyed glare like she was being unreasonable for seeing the situation clearly. Getting out of here… Yeah, right. And go where?

“Were you bitten?” he asked, his eyes roving across her body.

So he did see her wobble. Jyn gave a curt nod, absentmindedly scratching at her bite.

“Okay. We need to treat that first.”

She wanted to laugh in his face.

A bite didn’t always have to be a death sentence, but in this case, it almost certainly was. With a mortality rate over eighty-four percent, it was difficult to treat under better circumstances. Let alone when you were stranded in a hardware store with a horde waiting for you outside. She didn’t see what he could possibly do to help her now. Maybe if she had made it back to base… But even then.

The bite killed you more often than not.

“What’s the point?” She waved her hand towards the store entrance where the undead were only growing in numbers. “Look outside. We’re dying here.”

“In that case.” Face blank, Andor pulled out his gun and held it out with its handle pointed towards her. Jyn stared at him. “Or would you rather I do it?”

She said nothing. Satisfied, he withdrew his hand and reholstered his gun.

“So let me fucking help you then.”

God. What a dick.

xxx

Andor searched the store for supplies, returning with some bandages, cotton wool, antiseptic, and rubbing alcohol. Jyn watched him, still a little wary as he crouched in front of her and ripped open the cotton wool packaging. Her head was foggy, her limbs a little sluggish, her mouth dry, her skin hot.

The bite was pumping its venom through her system, leaving her weak and vulnerable in front of a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her enemy.

It scared her. He could overpower her right now, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. It scared her more than dying.

But all he did was pour alcohol on the cotton and reach for her hand to clean the wound. Her body tensed up, but she didn’t fight him. His grip was loose, his touch surprisingly gentle, and still, she couldn’t make herself relax. Always anticipating a blow, that was her life. She watched him as he worked, the furrow in his eyebrows, the lock of hair that fell over his eyes, the downturn of his mouth as he inspected her bite.

He was, Jyn mused, undoubtedly handsome. The thought may have been a side effect of the fever that was surely ravaging her body by now, but it was still true, which was rather annoying. It was the last thing she needed to be thinking right now. If she had to die, she wanted to die with some damn dignity.

But yes. The photo she saw of him didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

After a while, Andor lifted his head and met her eyes. Jyn knew she was caught staring, but she didn’t flinch away, holding his gaze as if daring him to call her out on it. She’d use the about-to-die card if she had to.

“You look like shit,” he said after a pause.

She barked out a laugh of surprise, the sound rough. “You’re a fucking asshole, Andor.”

He stilled. Jyn didn’t realize her mistake until he spoke. “I didn’t tell you my last name.”

Goddamn it. She would blame this on the fever as well.

Jyn opened her mouth, hesitating. What were her options? If he wanted to, he would kill her anyway. Which wasn’t a terrible loss as the bite might still do that for him. But she could be honest and hope he saw it as a gesture of goodwill. He knew she was with the Partisans; they’d been shooting at each other not two hours ago. He knew she had killed members of his group before, and would have killed more if things went differently today.

What did it matter if she admitted she was going to kill him as well?

“We surveilled your group,” she spoke softly, watching for his reaction. “You were one of my targets.”

Andor grunted. His face gave nothing away. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.”

Deemed dangerous and competent enough to be a problem. He was one of the three people she was supposed to handle.

Figures he’d end up being the one possibly saving her life.

For a second, Andor only stared at her, his eyes roving her face. Jyn shifted in her place, tightening her hands into fists, preparing for a fight. She had two daggers up her sleeves, another in her boot. A gun strapped to her thigh as a last resort. She was a little dizzy, but she could get the jump on him, go for the neck before he had the chance to realize —

Andor nodded, interrupting her battle tactics, and went back to applying antiseptic to her wound. Jyn waited, but he didn’t have any comments for her. No snippy remarks or angry quips. Not even a ‘it’s a good thing you didn’t kill me then.’

What was wrong with this man?

“You’re all done,” he said after he finished wrapping her wound. Jyn’s eyes followed him as he stood up, a question on the tip of her tongue.

He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows as if to say, spit it out, we don’t have all day.

“I killed your people,” she said. A statement, not a question. But he understood the meaning. Why are you helping me?

“I killed yours.”

“Does that make us even?” she wondered.

Andor shrugged. “I don’t know what that makes us. I just know I’m not leaving anyone behind.”

His gaze strayed back to the body on the floor, just for a split second. Melshi, he had said. Was this guilt then? Atonement? Trying to make up for what he felt was a failure by saving someone else?

Well, either way. She wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

But there was still the matter of the horde out there. And it was getting dark soon. If he had any bright ideas, it was time to come out with them.

“We still can’t fight our way out.” She gestured to the undead, clawing at the glass. “Even if I was in top shape. Which I’m not.”

He fixed her up, so her wound hopefully wouldn’t get infected, but the fever would only grow worse. God only knew if she’d even survive.

“We’re stuck here.” Her tone was factual, hiding the desperation that reared its ugly head. She was not going to be a zombie meal. Any death would be better than that.

Andor’s jaw worked as he scanned the store, taking inventory of the shelves. His expression shifted, a glint in his eyes that revealed he had an idea.

“Jyn?”

She blinked, surprised at the sound of her name from his mouth. It was… hmmm. Better not think about it now.

“What?”

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something akin to a smirk. “How much do you know about making bombs?”

[corner-stories]

a new york state of mind

Bart Allen. Jesse Chambers. Grant Emerson. Lower Manhattan. New Beginnings. Winged Helms. 3358 words. (ao3.)

With only a duffle bag and a backpack on his person, Bart Allen tried not to look like a tourist as he navigated the streets of Lower Manhattan. 

It was overwhelming to be around so many new things. Nearly every store or cafe he saw was unfamiliar, yet intriguing, like every door could lead to something new.

It seemed that every person he walked past was just looking for a place to be. On one street corner Bart passed a woman talking on her phone in the thickest Brooklyn accent he had ever heard, and on another was a jazz band unloading an ungodly amount of instrument cases from a single yellow taxi. 

And to Bart’s surprise, he had only been in New York for a few minutes and not yet did someone act like spending three thousand dollars on rent counted as a personality trait.

The hustle and bustle of the city made both Keystone and Central look boringly tame, but in his twenty odd years of life he was used to this kind of chaos. As he walked forward he could feel a sense of anticipation building in his gut, something that would either fade away or remain with him during his tenure in the city. 

After a few moments of walking, Bart arrived at his location with his luggage in hand. In contrast to all the movies he had seen about a young person moving to New York, the anticipated place was not a theatre on Broadway, an esteemed private university, or even some shitty shoebox apartment in the East Village. 

Instead, Bart stood in front of the brownstone belonging to the Justice Society of America, a place that was several stories high and undoubtedly bigger on the inside. As the sounds of Lower Manhattan filled his ears, the feeling of anticipation in his gut got stronger and stronger. Suddenly, his grip around his duffle bag tightened. 

Before Bart’s mind could wander in a million different directions, the door of the brownstone burst open and out came one of the more… energetic supporters of his current career choice. 

Jesse Chambers was smiling from ear to ear as she skipped down the steps, then dashed over to approach the gangly, mopheaded Speedster on the street. 

“You made it!” Jesse cheered in a tone so bubbly that it caught Bart off guard. 

Who was she and what had she done with Jesse Chambers?

The blonde even hugged him, something that made Bart wonder if he had truly entered the Twilight Zone. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Nice to see you too, Jess!” he said, awkwardly hugging her back and patting her on the shoulder. 

Having a smiling Jesse hug him so hard that she lifted him off the ground was certainly a change of pace. He had heard that Jesse became as giddy as a schoolgirl when it came to matters of the Justice Society, but Bart didn’t think she got that giddy over it.

After a few seconds of utter glee, Jesse put him down and the expectant knot in Bart’s stomach had yet to go away. 

“How was the trip here? You all good? Got everything you need?” Jesse asked all at once. The fact that she wasn’t speaking at super speed was absolutely astounding. 

“Uh… yes, yes, and yes!” answered Bart, happily patting the duffle bag in his grasp. He gave her a smile and did his best to not act like he had only remembered to pack last night. “Got two weeks worth of shit all here.” 

There was a beat, then Bart refocused his gaze on the brownstone once more. Standing this close to the place reminded Bart that the choice he made was very tangible and real — no longer a mere idea he had kept in the back of his head for god knows how long. 

Bart sucked in a few uneasy breaths, then looked towards Jesse. The smile on her face had yet to fade away.

“I guess we should just head in then, huh?” he asked, realizing that he could no longer prolong the inevitable. 

Jesse gave him a nod. “You ready?”

For once in his life, Bart realized what it was like to look before one leapt. He took in one more slow breath, then said —

“...let’s fucking do this.”

Before he could take a single step, Jesse reached over and snagged both Bart’s duffle bag and backpack. 

“Too slow!” she teased, and to that Bart could only roll his eyes.

Entering the building reminded Bart of a day two years ago, a day where his choice to pursue higher education had led him far from the midwest. The halls of the brownstone were certainly less chaotic than a public university’s freshman dormitory, but they were no less capable of filling Bart with a sense of unease. 

But the good kind, the kind of discomfort associated with growth and new experiences. If he was on edge then so be it, because it signaled the start of something new. 

“I’m glad you’re doing this,” said Jesse as she led Bart through the main foyer.

In his peripherals Bart caught sight of an ominous, unfamiliar shadow on a wall. It turned out that knowing of Todd Rice’s status as the JSA’s security system did not make the eldritch blob on the wall any less startling. 

“Oh really?” replied Bart, keeping his eye on the dark splotch for a few seconds. “I couldn’t tell.”

Jesse guided Bart up a short flight of stairs. “No, I mean it — most college guys go to Daytona Beach or Cabo for spring break, but you’re here.” She turned back and gave him a grin that was just a bit softer than the ones before. “I’m proud of you.” 

Bart briefly avoided her gaze as they walked across the carpeted floor. “Well… it’s just for two weeks,” he decided to say, figuring that it was better than anything else inside of his head. “And it’s better than an unpaid internship.” 

Jesse rolled her eyes as Bart followed her. Truthfully, he was quite grateful that the JSA would compensate him for his time. The stipend may have been chump change in New York, but combined with the free accommodations and food it was absolutely plentiful.

As Jesse guided Bart through the hallways he would call home for the next two weeks, he got a glance of the world he was just dipping his toes into.

A handful of JSAers were present in the halls as the pair of Speedsters walked. Bart only knew them by their codenames and not their given ones, but hopefully he would learn them at one point.

Through a slightly ajar door he saw the ‘other other Wildcat’ unabashedly vaping in the privacy of his own room. Judging by the scent, Bart was immediately aware of what exact substance he was partaking in. Truth be told, he didn’t take the Pretty Boy Wildcat for the stoner type, but one learned something new every day. 

Also walking down the aisle was Doctor Mid-Nite in his signature costume, albeit with the cowl pulled down and a pair of dark glasses over his eyes. Unsurprisingly, the world’s greatest physician was holding two bagels and a mug of coffee in his hands. He proceeded to shuffle down the hallway with all the grace of a soggy wet owl. The Good Doctor was at least polite enough to mumble something that sounded like a greeting as he passed by the Speedsters. 

Through a doorway leading to a living area, Bart caught a glimpse of a handful of JSAers simply joking around. The one he recognized as Citizen Steel was napping on a metal sheet on the floor (for some reason) and the unholy trinity that was Stargirl, Cyclone, and Lightning were in a competition to see how many objects they could stack onto their teammate. Judging by the impressive Jenga Tower on Citizen Steel’s forehead, it was fair to say that Cyclone was in the lead.

After a few more moments of walking, Jesse finally brought Bart to a room at the end of the hall. 

She opened a door to bring him into a space only slightly bigger than his room at uni — somehow, it was just a little more welcoming. Instead of plain white, the walls were painted a dark brown. The one window was wide and the single bed in the corner was adorned with clean, freshly-pressed sheets — akin to what one would see in a hotel. There was even a desk and a fan in the corner. 

“It’s not our biggest room, but it does have a nice view,” Jesse explained as she placed Bart’s luggage on the bed. 

“It’s perfect,” the younger Speedster said, and he meant it in every way. He had only been in the room for a minute and he already decided that he would enjoy the next two weeks. 

Jesse gave him a softer smile, then went over to pull the curtains back. True to her word, the view outside was resplendent. From where they were they could see above the trees of Battery Park and all the way to the Statue of Liberty. 

It was certainly a better sight than what he had back at university, which included some trees and approximately one third of a building. 

As Bart took in the view of the partly cloudy day, Jesse pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen. 

“Okay, so dinner’s served at seven-thirty, so you got some time to yourself,” she explained quickly. “Other than that, training with Wildcat starts tomorrow morning, so you should be good for today.”

Bart looked back to her and nodded his head. “Alright, thanks.” 

At this point of time he was still taking everything in, whether it be the unfamiliar scents or the sound of New York seeping in through the walls. He knew that eventually the noise of the streets would become so cordial that it could lull him to sleep, but for now he would need to get used to it. 

After stepping towards his bags on the bed, Bart began unpacking his things. Before Jesse could come over and help him, the pair of Speedsters heard a knock on the door.

Glancing over at the doorway, Bart and Jesse witnessed one of the JSAers gently pushing the door open, the one with S-Tier “himbo energy” and a pair of warm, kindly puppy-dog eyes.

“Hey, Jess?” asked Rick. With one arm he opened the door and with the other he held onto a restless toddler.

Little Johnny Tyler was rather perturbed as his father carried him into the room. His youthful face, while usually adorable, was twisted into a look of unease and wariness. Fortunately, the two-year-old was smart enough to recognize his mother standing close by and raised his arms up to reach for her. 

Fortunately, Rick was ever the doting father and carried his son over right away. 

“Hey, Bart,” said Rick to the younger Speedster, to which he received an awkward wave in return. The Man of the Hour then focused on his wife. “Sorry, Babe, he’s not going to sleep… again.”

Amused, Jesse rolled her eyes. “And in other news water makes things wet, come here.” 

Carefully, Jesse took her son from her husband. Little Johnny looked a bit more comfortable once he was in his mother’s arms, but only slightly.

“Hey, Mister Grumpy Pants, are you giving Daddy a hard time?” Jesse asked as she began bobbing up and down to comfort her son. 

Johnny babbled in response, which in Bart’s babysitting experience could either mean so much or nothing at all. As the little one began chewing on the sleeve of his Wonder Woman onesie, Jesse gave Bart an apologetic look. 

“Hey, you good here?” she asked. “Need anything else?”

Bart nodded quickly. “Don’t worry about it. Go on, take care of the little poop rocket, I’ll be fine!” 

As per usual, Jesse looked the slightest bit annoyed at Bart’s nickname for her flesh and blood, whereas Rick looked amused. 

“Okay,” Jesse said, reaching over to squeeze Bart’s shoulder. “See you at dinner.” 

With her slightly less grouchy son in her arms, Jesse exited the room. Before Rick followed, he gave Bart a polite nod and then closed the door behind him. 

Once Bart was alone there was not much to do but unpack. 

Unsurprisingly, the Speedster emptied his bag in a flash. In less than a second he placed everything where they needed to be, putting the clothes in the closet and his electronics on the desk. He even set up his gaming laptop and made sure that his mouse was properly plugged in. Afterall, he couldn’t possibly imagine two weeks without being yelled at by thirteen-year-olds in a game of Call of Duty. 

At the end of it all, Bart stood in the middle of the space and took everything in. The little room in New York instilled an unfamiliar sensation inside of him, one that left him with more questions than answers. 

Bart thought about what would happen during the next two weeks. Having spent the last two years as a full-time university student, his hero time was strictly limited to weekends and very rarely on weekdays. Even the Fastest Electrical Engineering Major Alive couldn’t be in two places at once, especially when Jesse was covering most of his tuition. 

As his train of thought began to flow, Bart also wondered just how long he could keep wearing his current colors. 

Despite managing to remain rather babyfaced in his early adulthood, Bart wasn’t sure if continuing to call himself ‘Kid Flash’ was the best idea. His growth spurt didn’t help either, as the former baby of the Flash Family had grown at least six inches during the summer between high school and university. 

On the bright side, he was close to overtaking Wally in terms of height. But on the not so bright side, it was becoming very difficult for Bart to keep imagining himself as ‘Kid Flash.’

Sometimes looking at himself reminded Bart just how much things had changed, that he was no longer the youthful boy who daydreamed during history class and always wished he could be somewhere else. 

Nowadays, he spent more time focusing on school and trying to be Bart Allen, something he had initially done on his family’s request. Unsurprisingly, he grew rather fond of modern education once he was studying something he was actually interested in. 

The next two weeks were his opportunity to put on a mask and be a speedster again. To what end he wasn’t entirely sure, but he was sure that he would find out eventually. 

With most of his things placed where they needed to be, Bart went to his duffle bag on the bed and rummaged around for anything he may have forgotten. 

Then at the bottom of his bag he found it. 

Sitting at the bottom was a helmet made of several metals. The main part of the contraption consisted of a circular dome, but on the sides were gold-colored wings welded firmly into place. 

He had made the helm a while ago with nothing particular in mind, a project that had come to fruition due to too many hours spent in the workshop of Titans Compound. He had begun tinkering with the scraps and junk he found lying around, most of it consisting of material S.T.A.R. Labs didn’t need anymore and dumped on the Titans.

Nonetheless, after playing around with the 3D-printer and a highly experimental nth metal titanium alloy someone just threw in the trash, Bart — in his own words — created a thing. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he bothered to bring the helm with him, but there was something about the way it felt on his head that Bart couldn’t deny.

He couldn’t exactly describe it — perhaps… a fullness, a completeness, a feeling that such a winged helm on his head practically felt like a crown. Plus, busting out his half-assed Hermes cosplay was fun sometimes. 

Nonetheless, Bart hoped that Jay wouldn’t mind seeing a similar helmet across the JSA meeting table. 

Bart walked to the mirror on the room’s walls and placed his helmet on his head. It sat upon his reddish-brown curls like it was meant to be there all along. When he saw his reflection he couldn’t help but smile — perhaps he could craft himself a traveler’s cloak and caduceus to complete the look. 

As Bart removed his helmet and placed it into his closet, he heard the sound of the door creaking. When he looked over he expected to see Jesse, Jay, or maybe ever Courtney. 

But to his surprise Bart was greeted with the presence of a person he had not seen in a long long time.

Grant Emerson had a mask covering his entire face, but judging by the way he weakly crossed his arms Bart guessed that his old friend was nervous to see him. 

“Uh… hey?” The unease in Grant’s voice was unmistakable. 

Bart smiled brightly, both surprised and charmed. “Hey, it’s you!” 

Grant nodded and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s me.” 

As cheery as could be, Bart walked over to his old friend. He was quick to notice that Grant was no longer a whole head taller than him, another allusion to just how much time had passed. Literally being able to look Grant eye-to-eye was certainly something Bart would need to get used to.  

“Long time no see, huh?” asked the Speedster, smiling as cheerily as ever. 

Grant nodded again, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… that’s one way to put it.” 

“Cool mask, Dude,” Bart was quick to say. “Makes ya look tough.” 

Grant let out what sounded like a cross between an awkward chuckle and a grunt. “That’s the idea, it gets kinda itchy though.” 

There was another beat as the two young heroes stood in the room. 

Bart could sense that Grant had many things to say, but for the life of him just couldn’t say it. He knew that his old friend had become more withdrawn over the last few years for a multitude of reasons.

But through the mask Bart could see the familiar pair of brown eyes he had spent time with on the Titans Base at Liberty Island, and once he got a good look at them suddenly many things came back to him, things he had thought to be forgotten and lost. 

At the end of the day perhaps fewer things had changed than Bart had initially thought. 

“It’s good to see you, Dude,” he soon decided to say, knowing that breaking the ice a little more could do wonders in making Grant less nervous. 

“Yeah, you too.” The walking nuclear reactor then let out another grumble, though one more akin to a verbal tic as opposed to an expression of discomfort. 

Once more, Grant reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “So uh… some of us are gonna pop in a movie before dinner, you wanna join?”

Bart shrugged. “Depends, what were you guys thinking?” 

“Well, Tommy suggested Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2, but that’s only because he’s stoned,” Grant said a little too casually. “So I’m gonna try to turn on Slumber Party Massacre when he’s not looking.” 

There was a beat, then Bart burst out laughing. He took a step forward and placed a friendly hand on Grant’s shoulder. 

“That sounds absolutely fucking sick, let’s do it.” 

From the way Grant’s mask moved, Bart could swear that his old friend was smiling. 

“Alright, cool,” said Grant casually before walking out of the room. 

Bart followed him with a grin and made sure to close the door. As he walked down the hallways he caught another glimpse of the city outside of the windows. More and more he was getting used to the sound of the street or the various buildings crowding the view of the sky. 

As every moment passed, it was getting a lot easier for Bart to embrace a New York state of mind. 

[himbowithapen]

Monsterfucktober - Day 17, Imps (Helluva Boss)

“Sir, I know he’s hot and all, but isn’t it against company police—not to mention Hell policy—to bring a live human back with us? Especially if you’re not going to kill him?”

            “Shut the fuck up Moxxie, look at this hunk. He’s cool.”

Blitzo, with a silent ‘o’ flipped Moxxie off and led the human into his office. “Now, tell me, which prince of Hell did you suck off to get a bod that sinful. Ho boy!” The door slammed behind them, and Moxxie put it out of his mind. This was classic Blitz; no rule left unbroken. Unless it was wholly unethical—and even then he’d only give a shit half the time—Blitz would be absolutely down for it. A human was a bit out of the range he’d chalked his boss up as finding attractive, but equally he never liked meeting expectations.

            “I’m heading home.” he said to Loona, Blitz’s daughter and company receptionist. It wasn’t like they were going to do business anytime soon, not with Blitz fucking a target.

            “Kay.” Loona didn’t look up from her phone. Moxxie was expecting some kind of comment on his weight, but no. The second he left, he went for the grocery shop on the double. There was something he needed, badly.

“Do you have this with that one flavour?” Moxxie was waving a can of soup in front of the store employee, who sighed as their eyes failed to match speed with his flailing.

            “Try reductions, then if it’s not there try ‘treats from the other circles’. Have a Hellish day.” Their voice was monotone and lifeless, like they’d been well land truly crushed by the infernal punishment that was working in the service industry.

            “Could you come with me?” asked Moxxie, not noticing how badly the attendant wanted to be left alone.

            “No.”

            “Alright. Pardon my intrusion, thank you.” He left the can on a shelf—the wrong shelf—and went straight for reductions.

“No. No. That’s a used dildo. That’s a well used dildo.” Moxxie swept around the shelves, crammed from top to bottom with recalls and damaged goods. “What kind of store sells ‘live horny tentacle in a can?!’” He heard the distant sound of two or more of Hell’s residents having an orgy in another aisle. “Oh, yeah. Pride ring.”

            He went straight for ‘treats from other circles’, double-crossing his fingers that he could find at least one more can of Millie’s favourite. “Come on, come on.” Just as he turned the corner, he caught a glimpse of it: the Lust stall, in all its glory, with one can still on the shelf. But, just on the other side of the aisle was someone else, also looking in the same space. Moxxie started walking, so did the sinner. He sped up, so did they. He broke into a sprint, and the four-armed, fluffy, spidery-looking guy did the exact same thing. Their hands grabbed the can at the same time, fingers interlocked around it.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?! This is my can!” he sneered, trying to pull it from Moxxie’s grasp.

“I think you’ll find this is my can. I came here specifically for it, and I’m not leaving without it.” He could feel his fingers slipping, but he wasn’t going to let up for even a moment.

            “Awwww, that’s cute.” His other set of arms grabbed Moxxie by the throat and lifted him off the floor. Still, Moxxie kept his grip on the can. “Let it go, short-stack. I got a million better things to do than strangle you.”

            Between gasps for air, Moxxie managed a strained sentence. “My wife is sick.” He drew his gun with his free hand and pointed it dead in the sinner’s chest. “You don’t want to know,” he gasped, “what I’ll do for my wife.”

            The spider glared at him. Moxxie glared back, unwavering despite his lack of air. Then the spider let go with all four arms. “Eh, like I need it. Supposed to be going straight anyway.”

            Coughing and spluttering, Moxxie put his gun away. “Thank you. Have a Hellish day.” He paid for it without further delay, then rushed home.

“Millie, I’m home!” He called out. The only response he got was a cough. He put the can down on the kitchen counter and went to see his wife.

            “Oh hey hunny bunny.” said Millie, giving him a weak smile as he squeezed her hand. She was doing better than before, but still, he hated to see her in pain.

            “Are you hungry? Have you been drinking? Do you—“

            “I’m fine, really sweetie. I’m just glad you’re home.” She opened her arms, and Moxxie lay down with her. Despite being bedridden, she held him in her embrace. “How was killin’ without me?”

            Moxxie laughed nervously. “Funny story: Blitz took a liking to the client, and instead of killing him, well…”

            She gasped. “He didn’t?!”

            “Yeah! He did! Right in the office!”

            “He showed mercy to him from the office?”

            “What? No. He’s fucking the target in the office.”

            Her mouth was agape, eyes wide. She made a noise that showed she was searching for something to say, but she was struggling. Moxxie thought it was cute, despite the circumstances. “But they’re so smooth and uninteresting!” Moxxie gave her a confused look. “Well, you know. Their whatsits. They’re smooth and boring.”

            “You’ve seen a human penis?”

            She shrugged. “I got curious. If it makes you feel better, he was already dead, and it looked disgusting.”

            “That does make me feel better. Thank you Millie.”

            “You weren’t jealous, were ya Mox?” Her tail circled around his leg, and Moxxie felt his insides melt.

            “Maybe just a little bit.” It coiled over his thigh, and a giddy smile crossed his lips.

            “You know I only got eyes for you, MoxMox.” She kissed his cheek and he felt his body weaken. He’d missed sex, and it felt like a gift to be back when Millie felt in the mood again. But he wasn’t ready to just yet, first he had the can.

            “I got you something, it’s a supr—“

            “A SURPRISE?!” She sprang out of bed and onto her feet. The covers flew down to the foot of the bed, and Moxxie fell off. When he looked up at her, Millie’s eyes were wild and excited. Nothing made him happier than that look on her face. “What is it? I gotta know right now!” She looked like she could almost jump around in bed; as much as the thought made Moxxie’s loins tingle, he wanted to make sure she didn’t strain herself while still healing.

            He got up, laughing as he fended off hugs and nails eager to dig into his back. “I’ll go grab it. But, in case you’re disappointed: just know I nearly shot a guy over this.”

            “Disappointed?” Her smile shrank. “Mox, why would I ever be disappointed in you?”

            He wasn’t so sure himself. The words just slipped out, and they weren’t ones he used regularly. “I– I don’t know.” He sank down. “I think; it’s just been hard without you. Obviously I’m glad you’re resting, and it’s working. But I felt like I let Blitz down today. Right now he’s in the middle of intercourse with a target, who I didn’t shoot because I hesitated. He’s breaking one of Hell’s most integral rules and it’s all my fault.”

            Millie put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulders. “Sweetie, Blitz has fucked plenty of humans. I walked in on him once fucking some politician on your desk.”

            “Really? So he’s done it already? That’s relieving. I guess I feel a little better.” He leaned back into her and put his hands around hers. “Thank you honey, I—he fucked a politician where.”

            “Don’t you worry. Come here, let Millie take care of you.” Her legs went around his waist, locking in front of him, and her forked tail brushed against his cheek, then between his lips.

            Moxxie’s eyes nearly rolled back. “Anything you say, dear.” She leaned back onto the bed, and he followed her down. His head found a space between her legs; her thighs were like pillows, and he savoured every moment rested between them before she pulled them out from under him.

            He rolled onto his front and watched as she got out of bed and opened their wardrobe; specifically, the wardrobe dedicated to sex toys. She revealed a big, red dildo, which she held against her waist and posed in front of him with. “How ya fancy this in your glory hole of a butt, possum?”

            His cheeks turned red. Every since that incident on the beach, Millie had taken to calling him that in private. Initially, he felt degraded by it, and not in the best way, but it was what Millie would say after that made it all worthwhile.

            She walked behind him, dildo attached to a strap she’d put on, then pulled his trousers down. She spat on the tip of the dildo, then pressed it through his ass hole. He felt the tip press against his g-spot, and that’s when she said the magic words. “Play dead.” He gave up all struggle to hold himself up while she fucked him, instead going limp on the bed while she pushed further and further into him. She knew him like no one else; start it off dry, then lube up when he’s earned it. The dildo went further in, and further, until most of the shaft was buried between his cheeks.

            He felt it adjust and press against his front as Millie leaned over him. He felt her breath on his neck, her nose against his ear. “Don’t you ever think you’re a disappointment to anyone. You got that Mox?”

            Moxxie felt blissful, so much that he paid little attention to what he said. “Yes Millie, I’m sorry.”

            “No apologising!” She pulled back on her hips and the dildo left him hollow, all the way up to the tip, which clung to his insides. Moxxie yelped, biting down on his lip and clawing at the bed. Millie’s sweet voice was filled with the assertiveness that turned him on so much. He hadn’t heard it from her since she started feeling sick. “That’s not very dead of you, is it possum?”

            “No. It’s not. I’m a bad possum” He was panting, eager to please but already out of his wits with pleasure.

            “Shut up!” She spanked him, and Moxxie’s eyes went wide. The sound echoed around the room. “You’re a bad nuthin’, got it hunny bunny? You insult yourself again and I’ll throw the lube out.”

            He tried turning to face her, but only managed to get halfway. He grinned giddily. “Don’t tempt me.” The dildo went in, straight to the base, and he lost his breath before collapsing again on the bed.

            Her pace became steady, pulling in and out of him while she murmured reassuring words into his ear. “You’re the best husband a lady could hope for, and you do a wonderful job for B. Now repeat it.”

            “I’m a good husband—“ Another spank.

            “The best!”

            “I—I’m the best husband!” he called out, half speaking, half moaning. The dildo pulled all the way out, and when it went back in, he felt something cold and wet around it. His grip on the bed loosened, and his head fell against the mattress.

            “Good possum. I love hearing ya knowing your worth.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Moxxie almost didn’t feel it; she’d pushed the dildo so far in that the base was threatening to join the party.

            “I’m a good possum.” His breaths were hot, and his vision was blurry. “I’m a good possum.”

            Millie pulled out, and Moxxie heard a thud behind him. Instinctively, he turned to check on Millie, but she was standing right there, holding onto the bedside table. The strap-on, however, had dropped to the floor. Millie looked out of breath. “Sorry MoxMox, I’m still tired. Not sure I can finish you off.” She stepped forward and fell onto the bed next to him.

            He took her in his arms. “You were amazing. I feel a lot better thanks to you.” He kissed her forehead, and she smiled. “Do youuu want your present now?”

            Their tails intertwined and she held him close. “It can wait, I just want my possum.”

            “Really? Because I really did nearly kill a guy for it. Kind of a big deal; stand off in the supermarket.”

            She shushed him. “Cuddles.”

            He nodded and pulled the covers over them. “Cuddles.”

[tillinghastcorporatemedia]

Xendelne is smarter than Artemis thinks sometimes

The sound of heels comes clacking down the hallway. “Artemis, what the Hell” Artemis sighs. “Vanessa, I told you I wasn't available for a shoot that day. I have travel scheduled.” Artemis turns back around and begins applying her makeup. “Look, we are out 2 models that day and Katerina is already scheduled.” Vanessa sighs quite loudly. “Look Vanessa, I've had this on the calendar for months why is this an issue now?” Artemis stops applying foundation to give Vanessa a hard stare. Vanessa, frustrated and unable to find any rebuttal walks away in a huff. “Great the model contract board is gonna hear all about this.” Artemis thinks before beginning the process of applying the rest of her face. Afterwards, Artemis leaves the building and hangs a right towards the es-station. While not normally a route that is taken after work, a hard day of being a model begs Artemis to have a few rounds of manna ferment. “I should call Paris and see if she wants to come out too.” No answer on her comms but there's always a chance she could be out with Peter again. “She'll pick up later” The sound of the doors opening to the cab of the es-tram coupled with the cool air of the night lulls Artemis into a calmer state. While the bar is not far away, the normally speedy es-tram is moving at a much more luxurious speed tonight, interspersing light in between the window frames. Pulling up to the station, Vanessa hurriedly gets out of the tram and back into the lights of the city as it shines and glimmers around this time of night.

Upon entering the bar, Artemis sees Xendelne lurking near the corner where the smoking section meets the emergency entrance. Xendelne waves Artemis over, who comes shuffling over once she has retrieved her drink. “Aw, you didn't buy me one too?” Xendelne pulls a sad face before giggling a bit.

“Xenny, I can smell the damn Os-fa spirits on your breath, you're don't need more at the moment.” Artemis says, sliding into the booth to the other side. Lighting up a hash-stick and taking a long pull before following it with a large gulp, Artemis exclaims loudly “Vanessa is such a big asshole, I don't understand why her and Katerina are such good friends. She's absolutely dreadful to be around at work, I cant imagine being around her all the time.”

“Normally it's one of two things Artemis, unrequited love or overbearing responsibility to a childhood bond.” Xendelne smirks. Artemis sighs again. “Xenny I swear that is the almost same exact reasoning you used two weeks ago. It just sounds like you're hedging your bets.”

“This is why we're friends Artemis, half the time I think you just want me for a sounding board.”

“No we're friends because you actually can shit talk without judgment.” Artemis eyes Xendelne as if she's trying not to say something else that might be upsetting out of care, to which Xendelne doesn't catch, instead rolling up a hand-rolled hash-stick that he slides an unknown substance into, lighting it up quickly and then looking at Artemis.

“Did you hear Letitia got fired again?”

“Again? that poor thing. Just can't catch a break. Seems like its happening more now than when it started.”

“Yeah, apparently someone on the writers team recognized her and printed the story with some identifying information. Kinda fucked up when you think about it. Like, someone who not only not from this planet but one outside Or'otl space. Just shows up and holds a store up, that's never happened here. Honestly, I think the housing board should give her and Cerys an upgraded domicile.”

“Xenny, what do you mean? They don't do upgraded domiciles.”

“So? Literally one of the only people on the planet who has passed all of the defense classes multiple times and still continues to do so was in the building. Literally it could not have been a better situation, sadly to say.” After that string of a sentence, Artemis takes another swig.

“Well what are we supposed to do. They literally made the papers recall every mention of Letitia and she still can't find a contract that wont take her as a liability.” Xendelne thinks, almost hard enough that Artemis can feel the gears turning. “What if she comes and works with you?” Artemis opens her mouth instantly to insult both Xendelne's intelligence and family tree when the reality of what was just said set in. “Honestly I think that's one of the smartest things you've said to me so far.” makes it to Xendelne's ear before Artemis is already out of the booth and heading to close her tab, rushing out the door to Xendelne's surprise.

“Artemis why are you calling me this late?”

“Cerys, is Letitia home?”

“She's been home for the last 3 nillet cycles, why are you asking and why does it sound like you're out of breath?”

“I'm running up your stairs right now that's why i'm breathing heavily, i've been drinking and i'm in heels.”

Cerys buries her head in her hands. “I'll wake Letitia.” She grumbles

-

“You want me to what?!” Letitia manages to curse out, still rubbing her eyes. “I want you to come model with me and I may already have a job lined up for you. Nothing big just some easy stuff. You'll have someone there with you but Vanessa needs someone to cover for her and we can hire anyone without a fuss.”

Still groggy but starting to understand more as to what is going on, Letitia asks “What kind of modeling is it? I'm not sure if I'm even model material.”

“Oh our makeup artists are wonderful and I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't think you would be fine. Worst thing this company would have you model is maybe swimwear, and that's not in season.”

“That seems kinda intense though, especially for someone who hasn't done this before.”

“Letitia, you would be saving both of our asses here, it would take the heat off of me.”

“Can I at least think about it?”

“Yeah I can at least let you think about it. That's fair.” Artemis sighs, knowing if this doesn't work she might be toast for a second. “Why don't I walk you home while Letitia sleeps on it? Does that sound okay Artemis?”

“Yeah but you gotta help me down the stairs.”

“Okay let's get you home”