#but we'll probably pop up sometimes

[masonmontz]

notes: so, i know it's not a good day because of the news, but i still hope this cheers you up a little :(

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

dad!mason word count: 1,7k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Shit” Mason swore loudly and you heard a toy being thrown away. You laughed, he probably stepped on a toy that made even his soul hurt. “Annie, I won't say it again, come pick up all the toys you threw on the floor” you were startled when you heard Mason's loud voice to Annie, because he never spoke to you like that. 

You decided not to interfere, because Mason is also her father and he was scolding her for a reason.

“But dad, I'm playing with my toys, you can't ask me to put everything away” she snapped loudly. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner while Annie was in the living room playing and watching. 

Mason came home stressed from Carrington, but he never took it out on you, until today.

“I'm not asking, I'm ordering” he said to her and the house was silent for a few seconds. “Collect all these dolls and then we'll have dinner.”

“You are the worst daddy in the world, Julie's dad never asked her to put away her toys” she yelled at Mason in a tearful voice, and you dropped what you were doing to walk into the living room.

Wow.

You arrived in time to see your four-year-old girl running up the stairs and then you heard her bedroom door slam. Mason sighed, running his hands through his hair and face, realizing that he had overdone it and was now considered the worst daddy in the world.

“What’s wrong, Mase?” you asked, placing your hand on Mason's shoulder and he looked at you tiredly. 

“I had a bad training session today and I took it out on her, now she hates me.”

You laughed as you left a kiss on his cheek, knowing it wasn't true. Annie loves her daddy and nothing in the world would make her hate him, but she's figuring out her own emotions, and sometimes you forget she's just a kid.

“I'll talk to her, set the table for dinner, please.”

You went up the stairs and went to Annie's room, opening the door and just popping your head in before entering. She was lying in the middle of the pink blankets and you could see her shoulders moving from the sobs of her crying.

Understandable, after all Mason never yelled at her.

“Hey, honey” you sat on her bed, pulling Annie onto your lap. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy yelled at me” she sobbed and held onto your coat, putting her face in the fabric and crying even more, feeling safe to cry in your arms. 

“Oh my love, daddy didn't mean to yell at you, he had a stressful day.” 

“But I just wanted to play with my toys” she cried louder, grabbing your neck with her little arms. 

“I know honey, daddy will apologize, okay?” you left a kiss on her cheeks and wiped away some tears. “But you can't yell at him, he's your father.”

“I don't want to talk to him right now.”

“No? Don't you want to come down for dinner?”

“No, I'll stay here.”

You sighed, Annie is upset with Mason and he's going to be upset with himself when he finds out she doesn't want to have dinner because he yelled at her. 

“I'll bring you dinner, okay? Do you want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yes, please.”

You left Annie lying down while you went downstairs, and Mason was in the kitchen putting food on the table and raised his eyebrows when he didn't see Annie with you. 

“Where is Annie?” he asked as he put some of the noodles on her plate. You could see on Mason's face how much he was blaming himself for yelling at his little girl. 

“She doesn't want to come down for dinner, I'll take the food to her.”

“What? She doesn't want dinner because I'm here?”

“You can't blame her, can you?” you grabbed the plate for her as you watched Mason sit down and cover his face with his hands.

“Shit, I'm a terrible dad.”

“You know that's not true, Mason. You're a great father and you know that, she's just a little upset, I think you should apologize.”

“Yes, I'll bring her dinner. Will you wait for me to eat?” 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Mason slowly opened the bedroom door, and Annie was sitting on the bed watching the cartoon with a few tears streaming down her face. Mason felt terrible, he never wanted to hurt his baby on purpose.

He carried with him a plate of mashed potatoes and chicken, a glass of juice, and a chocolate bar to please Annie. Annie didn't even look at Mason when she heard him enter the room, and it broke his heart into several pieces. 

“Hey love, daddy brought your dinner” Mason put everything on the table next to the bed and sat down next to Annie, and not even the smell of the food made her look at him. Mason saw her eyes full of tears, and he himself wanted to cry for yelling at her. 

“I don't want to eat.”

“No?” Mason pouted, laying down next to Annie on the bed, but she continued to ignore him. “Annie, could you forgive Daddy for yelling at you? I was stressed and yelled at you, but that's really bad. Do you remember that mom and I taught you not to yell at people?”

“Yes.”

“I didn't mean to yell at you, could you forgive me?”

Annie didn't respond.

She just got out of bed, walked to the pink table in her room and started eating alone, still extremely disappointed by Mason's screams, after all she had never heard Mason raise his voice like that.

Mason's heart sank, and he just shook his head to himself when he realized that he still hadn't been forgiven.

And even though she didn't want Mason's help to eat, he stayed by her side until she finished dinner, and when she had eaten all the food on her plate, she walked over to the small pile of books in the corner of the room, picked up the colored pencils and began to color, without saying anything to Mason who was watching her.

Mason picked up the dishes and went downstairs sadly, which didn't go unnoticed by you, who was in the living room waiting for him to have dinner. 

“Did she eat it all?”

“Yes. Alone.”

Mason's voice was low, and from his face you could tell things hadn't gone well between him and Annie. You walked into the kitchen behind him, and it looked like Mason's world had ended, his shoulders hunched, his head down, and his eyes sad.

You walked over to him and hugged him from behind as he put the dishes in the kitchen sink. Mason sighed when he felt your arms around him and held your hands, you rested your face on his back, leaving a few light kisses and Mason leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“I feel like shit. I didn't mean to yell at her, I don't know what happened, and she's so disappointed in me that she ate alone and didn't want my help.”

“You don't have to blame yourself so much, Mason, it happened. If you feel like this now that she's four, imagine when she's eighteen and runs away to her boyfriend's house?”

“Don't tell me that” he grumbled and you smiled against his back, and you rubbed your palm on his chest, trying to somehow comfort him. “I don't know what to do to make her forgive me.”

“She is not able to resist you, give her some more time, soon she will forget” Mason nodded and you let go of him, he turned around and you left a light kiss on his lips, drawing a small sad smile.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Annie didn't forgive Mason, he's the one who puts her to sleep almost every day, and Mason didn't hide his sadness when she asked for you at bedtime. Mason sadly took a shower, lay down on the bed and waited for you.

“She still doesn't want to talk to me?” he asked as soon as he saw you.

“I told her you were going to take her to Carrington with you and she said she doesn't want to go.”

“But she loves going there with me.”

Mason didn't know what to do to make Annie forgive him, and he thought of all the toys he could buy to make her forgive him, but he knew you would argue with him if he showered her with unnecessary toys.

Mason went to sleep planning on the sweets he would buy for her the next day, because no one can resist any sweet, and he slept among his own thoughts while you stroked his hair, still trying to comfort him. 

Mason woke up hearing a cry in the middle of the night, getting up scared when he heard Annie's cry. You didn't even move while you slept, in the last few nights you had suffered from insomnia and it was the first night you slept soundly.

He ran to Annie's room and found her sitting on the bed crying heavily, and Mason didn't think twice before taking her in his arms to calm her down.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Annie clung to his neck, tears fell on Mason's skin and he didn't let go of her as he left a few kisses on her strawberry-scented hair.

“Nightmare, there was a witch chasing me.”

“It was just a bad dream, love, you're safe with daddy, okay?” Annie nodded, relaxing completely into Mason's strong arms. “Do you want to sleep with mummy and daddy?”

“Yeah” Annie sniffed, Mason picked up the teddy bear that always slept with her and walked slowly towards the bedroom. You hadn't even moved, Mason was relieved because Annie had forgotten about their argument, and she was hugging him so tightly because she was still scared of the witch.

“You're safe, okay? There's no witch here” Mason whispered and Annie nodded, he placed her in the middle of the bed and lay down, feeling his daughter snuggle into him like she usually does when she sleeps with the two of you.

“You were going to protect me, weren't you, daddy?”

“Always, love.”

“I love you five hundred, dad” she whispered to not wake you, smiling at Mason and closing her eyes to sleep.

“Wow, that’s too much” Mason whispered back, kissing her forehead as he tried to hug the two of you. “I love you six hundred.”

[bigfan-fanfic]

Bats in the Web (Spider-Man!Batdad x Batfam)

What if batfam meets a version of Batdad who is Spider-Man in his universe??

"We can't interfere!" Bruce growls. "I know you want to help, but after the last world we jumped into, we can't take chances."

Dick sighs. The last world they went into, they nearly ruined everything because Gotham had no Batman yet.

But luckily, something descends upon the mugging in progress.

But it isn't Batman.

A strange silver cable zips into view and slams into the assailant's back, spreading in a strange geometric pattern. He stumbles forward at the force of the blow, before the cable springs taut, and the mugger is flung into the air.

Someone lithe and graceful sails through the air, trailing more silver cables and quickly wraps the stranger up in them, robotic arms emerging from their back to assist - almost like a four-armed... spider.

The mugger dangles upside down from a traffic light, completely mummified in silver, and the figure, in a black bodysuit with light-catching silver filaments in a web pattern shining along the whole thing, and what appears to be a yellow hood and short jacket, crouches atop it.

"You get home safe, you hear?" they call. "We'll just be... hangin' around."

The would-be victim grins up at them. "Thanks, Spidey!"

But the Bats are looking shocked.

Because that was clearly your voice, only slightly altered by a voice changer - the voice you use when you broadcast to negotiate with people while they're on patrol.

Before they can speak, though, you've flung yourself through the air, opening your arms to reveal the gliding wings attached from your sides to the arms of your jacket so you can sail through the air.

"Pops is... Spider-Man?" Dick yelps.

From what they can surmise, in this universe, Bruce still lost his parents at a young age, but he didn't develop the desire to become Batman.

Instead, while on a field trip, you were exposed to some kind of radioactive spider, and Bruce did what he could to keep your secret and develop his technological aptitude to help you.

It was Alfred's death that convinced you to become a hero - his last words to you being that with great power came great responsibility.

You and Bruce are still very young in this world, barely old enough to have adopted a young Dick Grayson. It's probable that Damian won't be born, and Tim won't be adopted by you.

You're so much more cheerful than Batman - Gotham's Spider-Man quips, sometimes with dark humor, and inspires her citizens to fight back against the oppressive darkness of their city with good humor and clever tactics.

The Bats make their way to Wayne Manor, only to find the harsh brickwork and traditional architecture has made way for modern-quality of life improvements, fiber optic light fixtures, glass bay windows, and high tech at every turn. It barely resembles their Wayne Manor.

In fact, the caverns beneath the estate aren't even utilized, with there instead being a high-tech laboratory on the grounds with a launchpad to fling you over the bay and into the city.

It's a shock to see them - Bruce Wayne, his body in shape but much softer: he obviously works out hard but he's clearly not a fighter. His movements are relaxed, even sluggish compared to the constant vigilance of the Bat. And he wears an unfamiliar expression on his face - a genuine lazy grin.

Meanwhile there's this world's you - lithe and strong, battle-worn and with the at-rest tension of a vigilante.

Alt-Bruce and you have an easy banter, a love very much like two young people - you're only a little older than Dick, after all, which he finds weird - especially when he and Tim babysit his younger version.

Jason is utterly touched when Alt-Bruce asks about all the kids, so he can make sure to adopt them - he wouldn't want them going homeless in this world. All Jason knows is that young Jason Todd in this world might just be saved from years of trauma.

You're still the strategist, but Bruce is your mission control and the gear/science guy - he helps with upgrades and is the one to suggest a way to get the Bats back to their world.

But you'll need their help.

You fly through the city that night accompanied by five gliding shadows. Shadows that brutally subdue the henchmen of Black Mask as you soar above their heads, connecting some power towers with a filament web, forming a major circuit Alt-Bruce can use to power a tachyonic collider, which should launch them back into their world.

They return to their world, but Jason pulls Bruce aside.

"B... you owe him."

"Owe him what? Who, Jaybird?"

Jason sighs. "Pops. You owe him a chance to see that smile. On you."

Bruce looks at him. "You think my face can still do that?"

"Hey, I was surprised that you were actually funny! But... yeah, I do."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right..."

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Always room for seconds (dp x dc)

"There they go again," says Aunt Alicia as she looks at the hazmat-clad backs of her sister and her husband jumping into their mish-mash-of-a-van. "And on Thanksgiving too," she finishes to herself as she turns toward her niece and nephew. Neither of them look surprised, though Jazz is clearly more affected if the tick in her jaw is any indication.

"They promised," she practically spits but Danny just sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder. It seems to draw the fight out of Jazz a bit and she sags onto herself.

Alicia loves her sister but she can be so irresponsible sometimes.

"Come on kids, let's go back inside. It's about time to put the turk-" she stops short, then groans. Maddie had insisted on bringing the turkey on account of not wanting Alicia to go to all the trouble, and Alicia had agreed on the condition that her sister wouldn't try to make it. "...And the turkey is still in the van isn't it?"

Danny makes a face. "It's probably for the best. I'm pretty sure I saw it move on the way here."

Alicia doesn't let her head fall into her hands, but only just. Instead, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down to rally her thoughts. "Alright. It'll be too late by the time we drive to town and buy a new raw one, so we can just get some already made from the store. That good for you guys?"

Jazz and Danny make sounds of assent before all three of them pile up in the car. Town isn't too far away, and the trip is mostly silent. Alicia is hesitating over what to say to cheer up her niece and nephew. In the end, they pull up to the grocery store before she manages to come up with anything.

"Dad was also supposed to bring desert," Jazz mentions as she grabs a caddie and wheels it back to them.

"I made apple pie just in case," Alicia answers. Despite her dislike for him, she can admit that Jack Fenton is a generous man. However, as she has learned over the years, that generosity doesn't extend to fudge. Which is why she's got her famous apple pie ready to pop into the oven.

Danny nods relieved, as he files in behind his sister. The three of them are rolling past the frozen section when a familiar voice cuts through the store music.

"Alicia?"

At that, Alicia looks up to see the face of one and only Martha Kent. Her lips stretch into a smile unconsciously at the sight.

"Martha, hi," she answers as the other woman starts walking closer. "How are you?"

"I'm good," the other woman says as she stops in front of them. "Just doing some last-minute shopping." Then Martha looks to Danny and Jazz and gives them a smile. "And who might these two be?"

"This is Jazz and Danny," Alicia introduces them, "my niece and nephew. They're spending Thanksgiving up at the cabin with me."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Martha says sincerely. "You left your sister and her husband in charge of the turkey, then?" She winks.

Alicia winces. "Ah, not exactly."

"They had a work emergency," Jazz says, unhappy.

Martha lets out a sympathetic oh.

"That's why we're here," Alicia explains. "They left with the turkey without realizing, so we'll have to settle for store-bought this year."

Martha makes a noise of sympathy before her face shifts into something more pensive. "You know," she starts. "I've got a big turkey at home and there's only going to be my son and me to eat it. If you guys would like, we'd love to have you over to help us with it."

"Oh we couldn't possibly-" Alicia starts to protest but Martha takes a step forward and takes her hands.

"You'd be doing us a favour," Martha says, her hands still into Alicia's as she looks up earnestly at the redhead. And damn it all because Alicia can feel a blush spreading on her cheeks at that.

"Alright," Alicia says, too flustered to argue.

Martha squeezes her hands once before letting go and Alicia can't help but miss the warmth of them. "Then it's settled."

"Alright," repeats Alicia. "We'll have to swing back home, though. I made pie."

"That's wonderful!" Martha's smile is radiant and it makes something in Alicia's chest warm.

She disguises it with a cough before speaking up. "Is six thirty too early for you?"

"It's perfect. We'll be waiting for you then," Martha says. "And for your sister and her husband too, if they manage to tear themselves away from work."

"That's not likely," mumbles Danny under his breath. Uncharacteristically, Jazz doesn't say anything about her brother's manners, only putting her own hand on his shoulder. Martha catches Alicia's eye and they exchange a look.

"Well, we'll be glad to have you three, anywho," Martha states firmly which gets her a hesitant smile from Jazz.

Alicia clears her throat. "We'd better get going if we want to be ready in time."

"Oh yes," Martha agrees. "I have to make sure the turkey's not burning." Then she winks, and for some reason, Alicia can feel that pesky blush coming back. It's made worse by the shrewd look Jazz gives her.

"See you soon!" says Martha as she leaves.

"Bye," Alicia answers back a little weakly. Then she looks down to the ground and sighs. When she straightens her head, she's immediately on guard as she catches her niece's smug look.

"What?" Alicia asks warily.

"Is Martha single?" Jazz asks, with a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth face.

"Yeah," the older redhead answers slowly. "Why?"

"Just wanted to know," Jazz says innocently. And even Danny is looking at his sister suspiciously now. "since you've got a crush on her and all."

"I do no-I don't know what you're talking about!" Alicia protests though she feels her cheeks warming for the third time today.

And now Danny is starting to smirk too as he exchanges a look with his sister. "Oh," he starts as he looks towards Martha's disappearing figure. "This is going to be fun."

[mysteryshoptls]

2024-2025 Player Birthday Login Message Lines

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in on the birthday that you set in-game from 18 Mar 2024 to 17 Mar 2025! For those that want to hear them, you can find them in the Archive, under the tab その他　→　監督生バースデー④. (This will not be in your game archives until the birthday you set passes.)

You can find the 2021-2022 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2022-2023 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2023-2024 Birthday Login Message Lines here!

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. Thanks for always looking out for those two dorm students of mine. Actually, we're planning on hosting a reception this weekend at our dorm. I would like to invite you, as part of your birthday celebration. Heh. My apologies. Looks like that has caused you a little anxiety. No worries, I'll be beside you teaching you the proper manners the whole time.

Ace

Yo, [Yuu]. Happy Birthday― Mmkay, so let's get started on the birthday party. I'm just gonna pop on over to this one restaurant in town and nab some tasty-lookin' stuff! Just chill and wait here at Ramshackle... Hey, c'mon, I ain't tryin' to pull anything over on ya. Sometimes I just want to have a normal celebration too, y'know!

Deuce

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Let me take you to go buy a prese... Eh? You're saying that I've already given you a present because I fixed the broken lights in Ramshackle the other day...? No way, you don't gotta hold back like that! I want to go all out for my pal's special day. That's what makes me happy.

Cater

[Yuu]-chan, Happy Birthday―☆ Did ya post on Magicam that it's your birthday? Oh, not yet? Then, let Cay-kun here with all his power and wisdom write a post for you! We'll attach a cool photo and some slammin' hashtags... Whaddya think? A perfect gift from me, or what?

Trey

Happy Birthday. So, about your present... I do have one. It's just... I was asking around for what to gift you and in the end, I couldn't really figure out what I should get... So in the end, after being at a loss, I ended up getting you this shirt. I look at it now and wonder what possessed me to pick this pattern... Yeah, I know, it's just laughable.

SAVANACLAW

Leona

Yeah, yeah. Your birthday's come 'round again, hooray. ...What're you doing, setting up a chessboard on the floor like that? You practiced just to win a game against me? Oho, so you're challenging me, then. Look at the pluck on this herbivore. So, what're you willing to bet, then? No way you're gettin' away with just a simple game after throwin' down the gauntlet at me like this.

Jack

So, it's your birthday today. Have you set up any new goals yet? What, you're going to surpass me in our classes? Heh, that's a hilarious joke. You really think you can beat me? But I'll take you on. If you get a better score on our next test, I'll get you some kind of present.

Ruggie

Happy Birthday―! 'N that means, I got you somethin' that's fittin' comin' from an upperclassman like me. Ta-da! A homemade fishing rod～ ...Ah, you totally just thought it's a cheap gift, didn'tcha! But this totally works! I know what it's like to go hungry too, y'know～ You're probably always goin' through things, so if you're ever in a pinch, make sure you use this!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

A very Happy Birthday to you. Have you thought of a gift you'd like to get for yourself? Please, allow me to procure it for you... ...Oho, you have a keen eye to request something of that caliber. It may be considerably difficult to just anyone to acquire. HOW-EV-ER! If I were to handle it, that is a different situation altogether. I shall definitely make sure to retrieve it for you. Please wait expectantly.

Jade

Happy tidings for your birthday. I do hope this year will be another fruitful year for you. By the way, [Yuu]-san. Have you eaten yet? Oh, not yet, how wonderful. As a matter of fact, I thought I would treat you to something in my own little way. I only offer this with the best of intentions, of course. Fufu.

Floyd

Oh hey, Shrimpy-chan. It's your birthday today, huh. Mmkay, then I'll give you some snacks. I got these strange tastin' gummies, these wicked hard cookies, and some squishy jerky. Awesome, right? I got a ton, but all of them expire today, so. These are my presents to you, so you better eat them all without wastin' any, 'kay?

SCARABIA

Kalim

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Here's your present, from me to you. Ahaha, did that surprise you? I tried making a pop up birthday card just for you. I also tried making a ton of paper flowers that we use during celebrations back in the Scalding Sands. Don'tcha think they came out real pretty?

Jamil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. It isn't much, but here's your present. Ramshackle is a fairly old building. I'm sure there are bugs that will find their way in and try to settle down here. However, if you use this, you can rid yourself of all of them in an instant. I can vouch for its effectiveness. Use it as soon as you can.

POMEFIORE

Vil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. ...You wish for me to come to your party here, at Ramshackle? And to top it all off, you've prepared a healthy menu just for me... Heh, how considerate of you. Very well. I suppose I can make an appearance out of respect for your enthusiasm. I do hope you're honored that I'll be there to celebrate with you.

Epel

Happy Birthday! I put in a lot of thought picking out a present for you. Here ya go, fingerless gloves! Nice design, right? Makes using your phone a lot easier, too. It'll make you look super cool, and the more you use it, the more comfy it'll feel. I hope you use it tons!

Rook

I've been waiting, Trickster. Waiting, that is, to celebrate your birthday with you. A spectacular day requires a spectacular memory. That is why I've come up with a wonderful plan of my own. First, we watch two back-to-back theater performances, then attend a poetry reading, and finally, watch a movie in the evening. There will be no time to rest. Come, we must quickly fly towards the theater!

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Kk, time to pretend we all get along and celebrate a birthday again... Eep!? D-Did you hear that just now...? Uh, so... Happy B-day, I guess... Soz, I don't have a present for you. Didn't even know it was your birthday... What, you're seriously just happy hearing me wish you a happy b-day? [siiigh] Nah, I'll order something small online and have it shipped to Ramshackle sometime later.

Ortho

Happy Birthday! Here's your present. Go ahead and open it! Hehe, you see what I did? I used a laser to engrave a birthday message on a glass tumbler for you. It was a little difficult fine tuning the power adjustment for the more detailed parts, but it came out pretty good, don't you think? I really hope you like it!

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

Child of Man, I see today is your birthday. ...Hm? What's the matter? You look a tad glum. Ah, I see, you are struggling to carry all your presents. Well, allow me to deliver them to Ramshackle with magic in your stead. No need to protest, this is an effortless task for someone like me. You should enjoy your special day to the utmost.

Silver

Happy Birthday. You're curious about this braided cord? It is your present. Lilia-senpai explained it to me thusly... If a string wrapped around your wrist or ankle snaps off on its own, then your wish will be granted. I strung this cord together in hopes that you may have your wishes come true. It may be a tad ill-shaped, but if it pleases you, it is yours.

Sebek

As I recall, today is your birthday... Hm? You want me to come to your birthday party? What poor semblance of a joke. I don't have the spare time to waltz into some human gathering like... WHAT!? MY LIEGE HIMSELF WILL ALSO BE THERE!? THEN SAY THAT FIRST! For goodness' sake, humans like you are just... so thoroughly thoughtless. Hurry and provide me the location and commencement time!

Lilia

Ooh, nice. So today's your birthday. Just look at how big you're getting. ...Khee hee hee. Don't look so downtrodden. It's just me pretending to be a doting gramps. The other guys in my dorm don't ever let me joke with them like that. And so, I have a present for you. Here, a CD of my performances, specially made! Take this and enjoy my raging screamo music with your whole heart and body.

OTHERS

Crowley and Rollo do not have new lines. Theirs are repeated from last year's.

Grim

Today's your birthday, huh. Happy Birthday to you! ...Huh? Do I got a gift for ya? What're ya even saying? Shouldn't ya be happy enough that you're my number one favorite henchie? Fiiine. Guess I can use my paws to pad you a massage sometime. Wouldn't want to hafta sit in a hard and uncomfy lap, after all!

Crowley

Ta-daaa! What do you suppose this could be? That’s correct, it’s an exchange coupon for use at the Mystery Shop! You have been a consistent helping hand, so… This is a special gift for you. Happy Birthday. Incidentally, that is only worth 500 madol (5 Thaumarks). It cannot be exchanged for something pricier than that. Please don’t hold it against me.

Crewel

It seemed rather rowdy in here, but now I see it was just you, pup. Are you excited simply because its your birthday? I see, well, in that case, I have a special present just for you. As for what it is... It is a special alchemy homework assignment. You should be happy; you'll be able to improve your skills even further with this, don't you think? Haha, Happy Birthday.

Rollo

Whatever is the matter, [Yuu]-kun? There is a strange glimmer in your eyes… ...Ah, I see. Today is your birthday. A present? Hmph. I hardly think that it should be something you request of others… But no matter. Indeed, birthdays should be treasured. However, what would be an acceptable gift…? I am afraid I’m rather unaccustomed to this. I would hope I do not disappoint you with a poor gift choice.

Fellow

Oh, my, hello there, my learned scholar! I've been searching, and finally, I've found you! I was fervently hoping to wish you well for your birthday. Here, your present. ...As fellows lacking in magical abilities, we should get along together, don'tcha think? Happy Birthday! Fwahaha!

Requested by Anonymous.

[miguelhugger2099]

Eye for an Eye

Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.

Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.

Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.

So where do you come in all this?

Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.

Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.

A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while. 

However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?

"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."

"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision. 

"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.

He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.

You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"

Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.

"What do you mean?"

"This is the last time we'll see each other."

Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."

You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.

Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"

"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.

"It's dangerous!" He barks back.

"Like it wasn't dangerous before?" 

"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”

The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.

“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.

“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”

Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.

“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”

The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”

You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”

He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”

He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.

“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.

He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”

Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.

Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.

“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.

It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.

“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.

For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Close Despite the Distance ✈️🌍

Mapi León x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You and Mapi only know each other through online interactions. Despite the miles and the screens, your connection grows stronger every day.

It started as a casual follow on social media. You were a huge fan of football and followed some of your favorite players, Mapi León being one of them. You always admired her from afar, watching her dominate the pitch for Barcelona and Spain. One day, after commenting on one of her posts, you were shocked to receive a reply. It was small—just a quick response thanking you for your support—but it made your heart race.

From there, it became something more. What started as light interactions through comments turned into direct messages. At first, you were hesitant, not expecting much from it. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages became longer, more personal.

Before you knew it, you were talking to Mapi almost every day. What surprised you most was how down-to-earth and genuine she was. It didn’t take long for the connection between you two to deepen beyond football.

"Hey, how was your day?" you type, knowing it's evening in Spain and she’s probably just finished training.

Seconds later, a notification pops up. "Exhausting, but good. Training's been intense lately. How about you? How's work?"

Your job isn't as glamorous as hers, but Mapi always listens intently, asking questions and remembering the small details of your life. You feel seen, understood—something rare, even in the people you see face-to-face every day.

As the conversations flow, you can't help but wonder what it would be like to meet her in person. It's a thought that sneaks up on you more often than you'd like to admit, especially on nights like this, when you're alone, and her messages are the only thing keeping you company.

"I wish I could just hop on a plane and come see you," you type one evening after a particularly long conversation.

"Me too," she responds almost immediately. "But you know how it is. My schedule is insane, and you're all the way across the world. It's not fair."

"I know. But it feels like we've been talking for so long… sometimes it doesn’t even feel real that we've never met."

Mapi sends a voice message instead of typing, her voice warm and comforting, despite the sadness in her tone. "I feel the same way. It’s crazy, right? We've never been in the same room, but sometimes I feel closer to you than anyone else."

You close your eyes, letting her voice wash over you. The feeling is mutual. Despite the miles between you, the connection is undeniable. It's strange how someone you've never met can become such an integral part of your life.

There are days when the distance feels like too much, when the only thing you want is to be able to look her in the eyes without the barrier of a screen. But then there are moments like this—moments when her words are enough to remind you why you keep doing this.

"One day," you say, your fingers hesitating over the keys. "One day we'll meet."

Mapi's response is immediate. "Definitely. It’s not a question of if, just when."

That simple message gives you hope, a flicker of light in a situation that often feels impossible. You don’t know when you'll meet her in person, but you hold onto the idea that it will happen eventually.

For now, you'll continue to make do with the late-night texts, the voice messages, and the video calls. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. And sometimes, real is enough.

pt.2 ; pt.3

[eddiegettingshot]

i'd love it if you reposted it! thank you so much 💚

all 2.8k (+ nsfw) beneath the cut just for you <3 <3 <3 we'll see if i ever come back to it

Despite being caught in a perpetual rush of his own making, Eddie is very rarely late. He’s always a little bit convinced that he might be, though, which is why it’s so endearing that every day, without fail, he finds the time to text: Morning, Buck.

Sometimes, Buck likes to wonder where Eddie had paused in his routine to make that kind of room for him. 

It could never be right after waking up, of course, but maybe he’d tapped it out one-handed as he brushed his teeth. Just before calling for Christopher to get out of bed, since Chris frequently sleeps through all three of his alarms. While waiting for his bagel to pop out of the toaster, or maybe after burning something on the stove, because it’s possible that he’d look at the remains of his breakfast in his pan and think, It’s easier when Buck’s around to make my eggs. 

Buck imagines this most often, even if it’s the least likely scenario.

He could have also decided to text right after he finished making his bed; in the middle of trying to find his misplaced wallet, which is usually forgotten in a pocket somewhere, although in that case he’d complain and ask Buck if he had any fucking idea where it could be; or once he was finally, firmly behind the wheel of his truck, about to put on the shitty country playlist he listens to on the road. The options are endless.

Buck’s phone vibrates, like clockwork. He closes his eyes. 

Apropos of nothing—nothing at all—he decides it’s possible that Eddie has just finished working out, which means he’s about to get into the shower, because he’s hot and sweat-damp all over. He’s probably peeled his shirt off already, if he’d deigned to wear one at all, after which he’d raked his hair out of his eyes and, still panting, remembered Buck.

Yeah, that’s probably it. That’s what’s most likely. Eddie’s been working out a lot. Probably what inspired that dream, too—the first one Buck’s had in months. Just him, processing all the ways Eddie’s changed lately. 

He sighs. He has to wipe himself clean before he can respond.

***

Most of Buck’s dreams are not about Eddie. The dreams that are about Eddie tend to hurt, leaving him off-kilter until the real thing, flesh and blood and smiling mouth, recenters him. 

He wonders if Eddie’s the same way. It would explain the ritual text, if the habit were a Hope you’re not actually dead! thing rather than the My best friend is always on my mind! thing Buck accidentally turned it into, as he does. He’d be okay if it were the former; he understands the impulse all too well, since he’d nursed a similar compulsion with Bobby for the same reason in the surreal months following his coma.

But, admittedly, it’d be better if Eddie loved him enough to think of him, always. 

Anyway, because dream-Eddie is generally riddled with bullets or riddled with bullets and drowning or otherwise suffering some amalgamation of all the terrible things Buck’s ever seen, it’s far less disturbing when Buck’s subconscious paints a picture of them sleeping together.

At least the version of Eddie who fucks him doesn’t exist, and never has.

***

He knows it’s Eddie marrow-deep, the way anyone knows anything in a dream.

Buck opens his eyes to light everywhere, so radiant the entire bedroom shimmers, a pale beam of it crossing Eddie’s long golden fingers where they’re clasped around Buck’s forearms to keep him in place. Eddie’s draped along his back, unapologetic about letting Buck, prone and practically immobilized, bear his full weight. Buck can’t see him, and he doesn’t say a word, just rubs his mouth into the spot beneath Buck’s ear and digs his thumbs into the insides of Buck’s wrists, but Buck is certain Eddie’s smiling. His mustache, which he’d long-since shaved in real life, is bristly, but nice. Really nice. Softer than Buck had thought it would be.

Then there’s the matter of Eddie’s cock, which he rocks slowly into the cleft of Buck’s ass. Buck can’t see that either, but it feels nice, too, stiff and hot and already soaked at the head. Buck tries to arch into him, give him something else, make it better; Eddie just laughs and keeps working him into the mattress, a lazy pantomime of a real fuck.

Dissatisfied, Buck struggles beneath him. Eddie bites him at the nape like an animal, hard enough to sting, and flattens his chest between Buck’s shoulder blades to settle him. He flexes his grip on Buck’s arms. Trapped like this, Buck can feel all of him: his ribs expand, and his belly presses into Buck’s spine as he sighs. 

The restlessness—whatever it is, that under-the-skin itch to stay in motion—drains away, defeated by Eddie’s wordless command. Buck sighs, too, turning his cheek into the pillow. 

The thing is, he knows it’s Eddie because it couldn’t be anyone else. 

“Good. That’s good,” Eddie says, low, dragging kisses across Buck’s jaw and cheek.

Buck’s not even doing anything. Eddie won’t let him, so he doesn’t try—even as mouthwatering want seizes his gut and pours blistering heat through his pelvis. He can’t stop shifting his erection against the sheets. The praise still doesn’t feel entirely unearned.

“It’d be better,” Buck says, “if you would actually put it in.”

“We ain’t got time for that,” Eddie says. Then (and he’s definitely smiling—the shape of it curls around his words): “Morning, Buck.”

It’s the familiar, beloved rasp of Eddie’s voice, that mundanity paired with getting almost-fucked, that makes Buck groan with impatience and spread his thighs. A blunted ache throbs behind Buck’s sternum. It’s dirty to let himself be overpowered this way, he thinks, except for that it feels closer to being held than pinned. With Eddie—his warm skin, his steady breath—it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.

“Come on, Eddie,” he says. “Quit humping me.” 

“That’s usually my line.”

“Woof,” Buck huffs, and they both laugh—Eddie’s, shaky and breathless, his cock nudging right where Buck needs him; Buck’s, a little awed over this quotidian exchange alone. 

Buck noses to the side and opens his mouth against the back of Eddie’s hand, licking at the thin salty skin. He imagines there’s a vein there. He imagines he can feel the blood inside of it pulsing on his tongue—onto his tongue—and follows it to Eddie’s knuckles. Scraping his teeth over them, he tries again: “We could make time.”

“You might be off today, but I’m gonna be late for my shift,” Eddie says. He’s wrong. He’s never late. Buck hitches his ass up, insistently seeking contact.

Eddie groans, long-suffering, dropping his over-warm face into Buck’s shoulder.

“You won’t. And if you are, I—I’ll tell Cap it was my fault,” Buck coaxes. 

He doesn’t have to, since Eddie’s already letting go of him, spitting into his palm, drawing away just enough to reach down, wet his dick, and guide it firmly into place. But it’s nice to beg so freely, even nicer to chase down that singular moment where Eddie gives in. To keep pushing, just because he can—because Eddie allows it, every time.

“Please don’t,” Eddie snorts. He rubs up against Buck’s hole, purposeful rather than teasing now, and Buck shivers, clenching under the contact. “I’m pretty sure that breaks the station law against oversharing, and I don’t have enough cash left for the Buck’s Big Mouth jar.”

Buck’s shameless snickering dissolves into a wavering moan as Eddie eases forward, opening him on just the tip first. Even that feels like a lot, feels fucking good, the first couple inches igniting nerves that make the backs of his thighs tingle.

“Fuck,” he says. Whimpers, really, kind of airy and tremulous.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“This what you wanted?” Eddie’s pressed all the way into him, flush with Buck’s ass. He grabs Buck around the hip to maneuver the angle, tilting him perfectly into place as if by instinct. The first firm thrust wrenches all the air from Buck’s lungs.

“Eddie,” is all he manages, naturally.

The slide is effortless, too easy with spit alone, but Eddie’s cock fills him up so well that all Buck can think is that if this is real, if this is happening, then maybe it was just meant to be right here, taking up all this space inside him, and that Eddie was meant to be here, too, the whole of his body an anchor. His hips begin to snap, hard and focused enough to get Buck panting. 

“W—Wait,” Buck gasps. “Go slow.”

Eddie obliges, of course. He kisses the nape of Buck’s neck, the sore spot he’d used to bully Buck into submission before. It tickles. 

“Slower,” he begs—for the first time in his life, probably. It’s a sudden, inconvenient desire, considering they really don’t have much time. 

Incredulous but uneven, Eddie asks, “Seriously?” 

Buck grins. “Yeah,” he says.

Eddie’s got a grounding hand clamped tight and high on Buck’s waist, fingertips hooking beneath his ribs. Buck reaches around, takes him by the wrist, and guides that hand up to his throat, choking off his own desperate moaning mostly because he knows Eddie finds it unbearably hot. 

“Buck,” Eddie maybe mumbles, although it’s hard to decipher through the hazy head rush. He gives Buck a loving squeeze, but that’s not enough; after squeezing his wrist in return, Buck tugs him up until he can wrap his lips around Eddie’s forefingers and suck. 

He’d asked for slow, so Eddie’s barely even fucking him anymore. His hips remain crushed to Buck’s ass; he’s rocking forward in small, tight motions like there’s any way to get deeper. There isn’t, there can’t be. Stretched raw, speared apart, Buck already feels disassembled. 

Eddie shifts, and it’s—“There, right there,” Buck groans, garbled with his mouth full, but Eddie understands. 

He must take it as, like, permission, or something—God, that’s a nice idea—because he presses down on the ridge of Buck’s bottom teeth and pushes his nose against Buck’s ear and gives it to him. No more of that indolent grinding; he slams in, smooth and ceaseless, unforgiving on Buck’s prostate.

“I love you,” Eddie says, hoarse with sudden emotion. “You know that?” 

Fuck, yes—with Eddie’s broad, calloused palm holding his jaw fast, and Eddie’s fingers down his throat, and Eddie’s sweaty cheek brushing his, and Eddie’s big cock ripping him wide, he does. He feels it everywhere. He cries out, muffled, guttural, and deliriously pleased as the heat builds. 

“Answer me,” Eddie murmurs. He slips his fingers out of Buck’s mouth. A strand of drool keeps them connected to Buck’s lower lip. One particularly rude thrust punches a strangled noise out of him. 

“Fuck, Eddie, I—I know.”

“What do you know?”

“You love me,” Buck says. “I know you love me.”

“That’s right,” Eddie says, pressing a sloppy, proprietary kiss under Buck’s ear. “I love you, Buck.”

“I want—���

“You ready to come?”

“Yeah,” Buck moans, and then, “No, I—” 

Somehow, with Eddie surrounding him, it hadn’t occurred to Buck how badly he needed to breathe his air and touch him, too—to kiss his mouth, taste the sweat on his mustache. To thumb at his furrowed brow. To watch him come and bask in the blazing heat of his satisfaction. 

Eddie would like it—filling Buck up, flooding him inside. He does like it. Doesn’t he? Likes laying his claim, more than anything. 

That’s what it really is, after all, when he gives Buck his cock, and his come, and his bite, and his hand around Buck’s throat, and every spare, hard-won minute he’s got. I love you really means that Buck’s his to keep, and Eddie even says that in his sleep sometimes, mumbled into Buck’s hair and occasionally broken by his embarrassing snoring. 

He must like that Buck belongs to him. He has to. More than anything, Buck needs to look Eddie in the eye when he says everything he wants to say, so he can be absolutely certain of this. He was certain, a moment ago, but Eddie’s grasp on him is weakening, or maybe Buck’s slipping out of his hold. 

Buck tries to tell him, “I want to see you.”

Ideally, Eddie will grin when Buck turns in the cage of his arms and begs: Don’t go anywhere. I love you, too. Let’s just do this forever. I can take it. He’ll make that sound he makes, that quietly amused “Hm,” that has a million meanings, all of which Buck has memorized. He’ll dutifully argue that they’d probably miss their real life eventually—plus they’ve got a mortgage to pay and Buck would get bored without the thrill of saving lives. Eddie’s good at choosing the right moment to be a little bit terrible, so he’ll grab Buck by the thighs to stifle any retort, haul him into position to pound him just right, and say something irresistibly dirty, like, Give it to me, sweetheart, show me how you come. 

And Buck would. He’s already close; it’s knifing through his belly, the only palpable feeling left—

Forget an orgasm; he doesn’t even get to roll over before the whole scene washes away, taking Eddie with it.

Panting, Buck blinks the afterimage of Eddie’s hands out of his head, but he can’t banish the thought that he wouldn’t let Eddie try to convince him of anything. He’d pull him down, kiss him hard, lick his canine teeth, and plead again, and again, and again, until Eddie agreed to use his body as a dwelling; to live inside him, and nowhere else.

***

It’s not weird that he jerked off. 

The dream was near-cinematic and left him with a desperate hard-on; he obviously couldn’t walk into work in that state. And, actually, in a way it’s less weird that he’d jerked off thinking of Eddie over anybody else. He’d bet real money that anyone who’s spent more than thirty seconds in close proximity with Eddie has done the same. Buck is a self-respecting bisexual man and Eddie is devastating on his worst days; of course the image of him ruddy-cheeked and slick with sweat was going to get Buck across the finish line in—what, thirty pathetic seconds?

In fact, it turns out that envisioning Eddie was the most efficient choice, given that he walks into the station just shy of being late. 

He changes quickly, then heads out to the apparatus bay, where Bobby is currently holding court. Eddie’s eyes barely flicker as he slides over on the stairs to make room for Buck to settle in beside him. 

“Morning, Buck,” he says.

Buck’s stomach tenses. 

“H—Hey,” he responds, in the tone and cadence of someone who did not recently shoot off so hard he might have actually shed a tear, and all to the echo of dream-Eddie—only dream-Eddie—saying that exact thing. The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch as he restrains his smile; it’d have been imperceptible were Buck not already looking at it—his mouth, that is. 

He should probably stop doing that. Bobby gives him a good reason to turn away. 

Over the course of their morning briefing, Eddie begins to lean into Buck. He shuffles his feet until his legs are angled open wide and he and Buck are pressed together from their knees all the way down to the sides of their boots. Buck glances over occasionally, and Eddie notices each time; he doesn’t say anything, though, and doesn’t seem to think anything of it, his expression mostly unchanging. In every halfway moment between meeting Eddie’s eye and returning his attention to where it belongs, Buck is compelled to look down into the space between Eddie’s thighs, where his interlaced hands hang loosely. Those hands were all he’d gotten to see of Eddie, in the dream—all he’d gotten to touch and taste.

He wonders at Eddie’s fingers, how the shape of them would fit his mouth. Eddie’s knuckles digging into his hard palate. The unyielding edge of bone between his teeth. Would they make him gag? Would he care if they did? Probably not. There’s a small, still-fresh cut disappearing into the web between Eddie’s middle and ring fingers. The moment Buck imagines probing his tongue against it, he swallows hard against the feeling that there’s an immovable smoldering coal lodged in his esophagus, radiating unpleasant heat through his chest. 

Buck rubs his palm absently from his collarbone to his heart and back up again to scratch at his neck. He doesn’t realize he’s begun to chew his thumbnail ragged until Eddie nudges an elbow into his side to get him to quit. 

For some reason, he mumbles, “Sorry.” Eddie tilts his head and half-smiles, silently accepting this nonspecific and entirely unnecessary apology. Buck can bite his nails if he wants, but he shoves his hands into his pockets to stave off the urge.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— mission: chaos fc

↪ muchly requested second part to the previous chapter. I had so much fun writing the first bit, so why not give you guys a second part?

ps. there'll be more parts to this... its' not over yet!

Lets' go with chaos fc!

Thank you thank you thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me with the different ideas and code names, so much to write the mayhem!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader

summary: just 2 best friends being pests together, and enlisting the help of the young guns to help them out

"Yoo-hoo," You call out as you open the door to Kyra's hotel room and walk in, plonking yourself down on her bed as you end up hearing the tail-end conversation of her phone call with Viv.

Ultimately, you know you should try and stay out of trouble. After all, that's what you promised Leah, and you really should keep your promise.

However, you're a known troublemaker and well, wherever you go, trouble tends to follow.

It's only a matter of time...

"Yikes, Vivi sounds mad with you," You can't help but joke and whistle lowly, moving back to relax on the Australians' girls bed with your arms propped up on the pillows. "How bad was it?" You question, curiously.

"She lectured me for what felt like forever," Kyra huffs in protest and slumps back down onto her bed, "It's bad enough I already had an earful from Steph and Caitlin!" She whines.

You wince a bit as you feel bad for her having to deal with that, "Well, if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with a right telling off from Leah and you know she can be scary as hell sometimes," You mumble, shuddering slightly, "And shes' even threatened to ban me eating sweets for a month if she finds out I've got in any more trouble. Oh and there was talk about a leash as well,"

"Right, so no more pranks then?" Kyra slumps her shoulders down in realisation.

"Well, Kimmys' definitely gonna be keeping a closer on us now," You remark, knowing that your Captain will have a watchful eye on you both.

The older Australian nods in agreement, "Yeah, and Steph and Catilin as well probably," She notes.

"Yeah-- I know!" An idea pops into your head as you bolt up from where you're lounging about on her bed, "We'll come up with code names! That way, we can lay low and cause trouble and none of the girls will have a clue that we're talkin' about them!" You personally think the idea's great and you know full well it'll help in your cause to be choatic still.

"That's geinus!" Kyra exclaims, impressed with your ability to think quickly about it.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty smart at times," You remark, jokely pretending to flick your hair back. "Right, we'll be known as... Eagle 1 and Eagle 2," You declare.

"Eagle?" Kyra furrows her eyebrow, confused by where you'd gotten that idea from.

"Uh huh," You nod in agreement with the older girl. "Kimmy will be Tiny, because well, its' kinda self explanatory," You tell her.

Kyra snickers at you making fun of your Captains' height, "Okay. What about Steph and Caitlin?" She questions.

"Caitlin will be known as Veggie, because of Vegemite and Steph will be known as Floof," You begin to reel of the different names, "Alessia will be known as uh, butterfingers!"

"Because of how clumsy she always is?" Kyra smirks at your imaginative nickname for the blonde striker and you nod in agreement, "Alright, what about Katie?" She wonders.

"Leprechaun, because there little shits like she is-- I mean, we're like that too, but shes' Irish as well so it fits better!" You explain your thought process, shrugging your shoulders, "Emily will be known as Fox, like the animal," You state.

"Simple but effective," Kyra remarks, keeping track of the different code names you're coming up with, "Cloe and Frida?"

You tap your finger against your cheek, "Hm, Laces and Magnum, Cloe's last name is hard to pronounce and Magnums' close to Manuum," You delclare, finding the situation amusing to no end, "Oooh. Teyah will be prodigcy, because you know, that's what Katie keeps referring to her as, and Katherine will be umm, Kool-Aid, like the drink!"

"Kool-Aid?" Kyra smirks in amusement as you just confirm your idea with a stuble nod of your head, "Oh, what about Vic?"

"Pancake," You answer without a single thought, "Cos' shes' Dutch and there's a thing called Dutch pancakes-- Oooh, I really want one of them right now!" You stare into space, thinking about them and all you want is one right now.

"Y/N focus," Kyra snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

You jolt and shake your head suddenly, "Huh-- What... What're we talkin' about again?" You wonder, getting lost in your thoughts about desert already.

"Code names," Kyra reminds you as she laughs, "We still need to figure out the ones' for the rest of them. "What about Sarah and Jonas?" She adds.

"Sarah will be baguette, because shes' french... and Jonas will be Thanos," You're very adamant about the latter, "Because hes' a villian," You hadn't taken the news of Vivs' depature from the club exactly too well and you low-key would like to fight him at some point.

"Still mad about it, huh?" Kyra winces, remembering your reaction to Viv leaving the club wasn't that great.

"Don't want to talk about it. It still hurts," Alongside Katie being the head of the Vivianne Miedema fan club, you were a close second. You were devestated when she played the game in a Arsenal shirt for the last time.

"Pst, Kyra," You whisper and lean over your seat to not to gently nudge the girl to get her attention without being caught out by Kim or the rest of the 'responsible' older girls.

You're currently on the coach on the way to Marvel stadium ahead of the open training session where the fans would have the opportunity to watch you train ahead of the game against the all stars team.

Ever since the phone conversation with Leah, you had definitely been under closer watch and the threats that the blonde made were still fresh in your head as a reminder, and you'll be damned if you miss out on eating sweet treats, best behaviour or not.

But nobody ever said it was fun to always be good and you definitely weren't.

"Yeah?" The older girl turns her head to look at you.

"I have an idea of who can be the next victim of our prank," You give her a coy smile as you nudge your head slightly, "I say we mess with Laces," You gesture to the older girl whos' happily minding her own business.

Kyra smirks at your decision, "What've you got in mind?" She wonders.

You can't help but grin as you lean over the seat and cover your hand over your mouth to whisper to her, "We can sneak into the locker rom ahead of the rest of them. We'll hide the shin pads," You whisper quietly into her ear.

"Perfect," Kyra grins in agreement with your idea to cause chaos once again.

"What're you pair whispering about?" Kim eyes' the two of you suspiciously, hesistant to have even allowed you to both sit near each other.

"Nothing!" Your both quick to respond, acting completley innocent in the situation at hand.

"Mhm, make sure it stays that way!" Kim is less reluctant to simply let that answer slide so she keeps a more thorough check on you.

When the coach pulls up at the stadium, your quick to try and make a break for it, but your Captain doesn't seem to think the same idea, "Not so fast. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," She states, knowingly.

"Kimmmm, seriously?" You whine in protest, but the tight grip that she has on your upper bicep makes it difficult for you to break free like youn want to do.

"Come on," Kim pulls you in the direction of the press conference that shes' got with Jonas and Steph, forcing you to sit on the side where she can keep an eye on you still, "Stay there, don't move," She warns, patting your head ever so pratronisingly before she heads off to join them on the stage.

You can't say you were too fond of being forced to sit there and listen to the journalists ask questions, especially when Steph was poking fun at you directly for your bad habits of wandering off and getting into trouble. 

"This is boring," You mutter to yourself and slump down in the chair, while you kick your legs back and forth in annoyance at the situation you've found yourself in.

How long would it take for Kim to realise you'd got up and left?

Only one way to find out, you guess.

"Y/N!" Your names' barked loudly, causing you to freeze in your spot before you slowly spin around and try flash her an innocent smile, "Sit down!"

"Aw shucks," You mutter and flop back down in the seat, trying to ignore the stern look that Kims' giving you while laughter breaks out in the room from everyone else.

"Only our Y/N," Steph chimes in, amusedly.

You realise you're stuck now and you need to resort to desperate measures to ensure that the chaos still happens.

"Young Guns, your time has come!" You think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket to enlist the help of the girls in the academy.

Y/N created the group: mission chaos fc 💥💣💀

y/n added kyra, mini viv and & mini katie & 4 others to the chat

y/n changed kyra's name to eagle 2 🦅🦅 y/n changed freya's name to godfather 😎 y/n changed maddie's' name to baddie 😅 y/n changed vivs' name to winger 🪽 y/n changed laila's name to ernie 🤪 y/n changed naomi's name to diver 🤿 y/n changed katie's name spencer 👀 y/n changed your name to eagle 1 🦅

eagle 1 🦅: young guns. i need your help! godfather 😎: uh... what's this? baddie 😅: why is my name baddie? winger 🪽: what's going on, y/n? ernie 🤪: i'm so lost. godfather 😎: heh, i actually kinda like mine... 😊 baddie 😅: speak for yourself 🙄 spencer 👀: why is my name spencer?👀 eagle 1 🦅: FOCUS YOUNG GUNS, I'M DEPENDING ON YOU!🫵🏼 diver 🤿: umm okay, i'm confused. ernie 🤪: yeah, your not the only one...🫠 winger 🪽: should i get one of the girls to come help you? spencer 👀: i think we should eagle 1 🦅: noooooooo! ⛔⛔⛔⛔ DO NOT GET ANY OF THE OLDER GIRLS!🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️ i've been kidnapped, this is the plan... spencer 👀: if you've been kidnapped then we definitely need to tell someone! eagle 1 🦅: nooooo its' fine i'm stuck with mother kimmy and she won't let me out of her sight for the forseeable! i'm enlisting your help to join in on mission chaos fc, your time has come! diver 🤿: we should be concerned, right? godfather 😎: yeah, yeah... i think so eagle 1 🦅: your mission whether you choose to accept is up to you. the challenge is simple, i need you to go and hide laces shin pads. don't ask questions tho. do you wish to accept your mission? baddie 😅: whos' laces? 😕 eagle 1 🦅: I SAID NO QUESTIONS ooh right yeah, i realise now... uh its' cloe lacasse, baddie 😅: i'm down! diver 🤿: sure, why not spencer 👀: seems a bit risky... i don't know winger 🪽: we'll help you, eagle 1 🫡 eagle 2 🦅🦅 has entered the chat... eagle 2 🦅🦅 : y/n where are you? i can't find you-- have you been taken to the dark side? eagle 1 🦅: code names, eagle 2... i've been kidnapped by mother kimmy, the young guns' are now enlisted to help you out. i've got to go, my captivator is heading this way. good luck, live long and propser! 🫡 baddie 😅 : we won't let you down, eagle 1! eagle 2 🦅🦅: so long, partner... 🥲

© scribblesofagoonerr

[lovemybluebully]

Salad is a Four Letter Word

Soooooo Venom seems to be popular again, especially with my new pal @ticklishdeadpool so this one is for you, buddy! ���

While I don't think I'm going to see the new movie I did decide to dig into my graveyard of abandoned fics. Found this WIP that I had started after the first movie came out and have now filled in all the gaps for your viewing pleasure. It was a little tricky as I haven't seen the movie in awhile, but hope I did okay. For that reason, I probably won't be writing anymore Venom fics for the current time, but at least this one will be out there now.

It's a totally nonsense-type of fic. lol Didn't really have anywhere that I was going with it so it had been abandoned, but still just fun, silly interactions between Eddie and Venom. With tickles of course! Me, write a fic without tickling? 🤣 Good one.

If you have a flesh-loving alien inside of you, you don't threaten to force him to eat salad. 😆

Venom (Movieverse)

Word Count: 2,546

"What are we doing here? We don't like this place."

Eddie let out an exasperated groan as he stood in the lobby of the hospital, waiting for the elevator to come back down.

"I already told you, Anne just wants to be safe and have Dan check me out. You know, just in case my body is having any adverse effects to you practically living inside me."

"We can assure you it is not," Venom gave an offended growl from inside of him just as the elevator doors opened.

"Yeah, well as much as I'd like to believe you we'll let the body scan decide that," Eddie nodded as he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to the correct floor.

"Eddie doesn't trust us," the symbiote accused, prompting Eddie to roll his eyes as they moved up the floors of the building. For a powerful super alien from outer space he could sure be sensitive sometimes.

"Shut up, it's not that it's just that I need proof. I'm a reporter, and I like to have the facts."

"The fact is you're being a traitorous piece of shit."

The elevator finally stopped as they reached the selected floor and Eddie walked out into the hallway. He sighed heavily once he stopped in front of the door to Dan's office; his eyes looking up towards the ceiling as if trying to find his calm.

"Tell you what, if you behave here then we'll go get some McDonald's after this. Fair?"

"....Ok, deal. But lets make it a quick visit! I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry," Eddie shook his head as he opened the door where the doctor and Anne were waiting.

"Hi Eddie, really nice to see you again," Dan welcomed him as he stood up from his desk and walked around to shake Eddie's hand.

"You too. Uh sorry we're late. My alarm didn't go off, and when I was trying to get out the door Venom was being his usual primadonna self and-Gaah!" Eddie grunted when a single symbiote tendril reached out and poked him in the ribs, just under the armpit.

"Keep talking, Eddie," Venom hissed threateningly; his head popping out from his host's back and wrapping himself over the wide shoulders.

"Well now I see who wears the pants in this relationship," Dan laughed, but it died out when Eddie gave him an annoyed glare, not finding his joke amusing in the slightest.

"It's a good thing you're a doctor and not a comedian."

"And it's a good thing you're a reporter and not a giant loser....oh wait," Venom snickered to himself while Eddie glared back at him.

"That's it. Deal's off."

"NOOOOO!!!" Venom wailed in sorrow as Eddie gave a smug grin and reconfirmed his earlier comment.

"See? Primadonna."

"Come on, guys, take it easy. This will all be quick and painless," Anne tried to break it up, though always finding their antics to be amusing.

"Yeah, it shouldn't be bad at all. Very standard procedure. So if you're ready we can get this all underway."

Eddie was then handed a hospital gown to change into as Dan led the way down to the lab.

.......................................

"Alright, buddy, we're gonna do an MRI now, and I know you don't like that so take a hike for a minute," Eddie instructed the alien as he gestured a thumb away from himself.

"Do I have to?"

"Just do it, would ya?"

"Ohhh ok," Venom grumbled as he seeped out of Eddie onto the floor, mostly forming into a blob, but with a serpent-like head extending out. Eddie blinked for a moment and then smirked down at the symbiote.

"You know, I never noticed how cute you actually look like that."

"We are not cute!" Venom glared up at him as Anne looked the symbiote over and nodded.

"You kinda are," she agreed with a grin, causing Venom to hiss and slither off out of the room.

"Well lets get this over with before Venom has a heart attack from not eating for thirty minutes," Eddie joked, purposely saying it loud enough for the alien to hear.

"It's been an hour, you prick!"

"Ooooh sorry, one whole hour! Someone better call CPS on me," Eddie rolled his eyes and climbed up onto the table. He then laid down with his arms at his sides as Anne looked back at Dan to give him the go ahead.

"Alright, we're all set. Here goes nothing," Dan said over the speaker as he controlled the conveyor to slide into the tube until only Eddie's legs and feet were sticking out, "Now try not to move and this won't take long."

"Got it," Eddie nodded, but with the position he was in Anne couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"Comfy in there?" Anne grinned playfully, running a finger up the bottom of Eddie's bare foot as the man yelped and jerked his leg.

"He-Hey! Well not when you do THAT!"

"Sorry, it's just too easy," she briefly tickled his other foot receiving another squawk of objection as Eddie pulled up his knees to put his feet flat on the table.

"Heehee, stop it!"

"Get him again, Anne," Venom goaded into the microphone from where he sat next to Dan inside the control room as Eddie yelled back at him.

"Shut your mouth, parasite!"

Dan was trying to remain professional, but had to use his hand to cover his mouth so he could hide his amused smile.

"Lay still, please. Anne, leave the patient alone."

Anne smirked, giving him a wink as she walked away to join Dan and Venom. Once he saw that she was at a safe distance Eddie put his legs back down.

A few moments later the machine came to life and began the in-depth scan, while the three observed on the monitors in the control room. After a minute of looking at the pictures on the screens Dan cleared his throat.

"Hmm. Well that's interesting...," the doctor trailed off in his thought, making Eddie assume something was wrong.

"What? What do you see?! He hasn't been snacking on my organs, has he?! Venom!"

"Actually everything looks perfectly normal. Organs are all intact, no restrictions in your blood flow, heart looks healthy, brain functions are top notch. All in all I'd say you check out just fine. It's incredible," Dan put his hands up in astonishment as he sat back in his chair.

"So you're saying that having Venom inside of him hasn't done any damage whatsoever?"

Anne was just as surprised to learn this new information as Dan shook his head in response.

"Not that I can see, no."

"Told you, pussy," Venom sneered haughtily, slithering out of the control room back into view while the conveyor drew Eddie out of the machine.

"Well that's a relief," Eddie sat up and immediately began putting his clothes back on, "Guess I can sleep better tonight knowing that this parasite inside me isn't leeching off of my body so much."

"That can easily change if Eddie keeps calling us names...," the symbiote growled as Eddie just shook his head with an amused smirk. Dan then walked out into the room, scribbling some notes onto a clipboard.

"Alright, well since we're all done with that it's safe for Venom to get back into your body now."

"Yes!" Venom whooped as he quickly hurled himself at Eddie, knocking him back onto the table.

"Hey! Watch it!" Eddie grunted as he then found himself forced off of the table to his feet.

"Come on, lets go Eddie! Now!" Venom shouted as he took control and yanked Eddie's body across the room towards the door much to the surprise of the other two.

"Uhh, goodbye?" Anne gave an awkwardly half-wave.

"I promised him McDonaaaaaaald's!" Eddie's voice faded as Venom violently drug him out of the room.

A SHORT WHILE LATER....

"Happy now?" Eddie asked with a sickened frown as he recanted watching Venom devour over ten quarter pounder cheeseburgers. The alien belched in response from inside of him as they walked down the sidewalk.

"Yes. That will probably hold us over for another hour or so."

"You know, you're a pretty expensive date," Eddie groaned as he looked into his wallet, only having a few dollars remaining now.

"Would you rather we ate a human instead?"

"Uhhh no, heh. No, I'd appreciate if you didn't do that," he laughed nervously as he glanced around at all the people on the busy street that Venom could easily snatch up if he so desired.

"Well then you shouldn't complain. Besides, you love us."

"In a really screwed up kinda way, yeah I guess so," Eddie smirked, "Now shut up, will ya? People are gonna think I'm crazy if they see me walking around and talking to myself."

"People already think we are crazy," Venom pointed out, making Eddie shake his head.

"Not complete strangers. Now not another word until we get back home. Got it?"

"But Eddie we can't stay quiet that long..."

Eddie just kept his mouth closed, pretending he didn't hear anything.

"Eddie...."

Still Eddie continued to ignore him

"EddieEddieEddieEddieEddie!"

Eddie just continued facing forward as he focused on getting back to his apartment down the street.

"Ignore me will you...," Venom then grinned slyly as he crept out underneath Eddie's jacket to stay unseen and then gently squeezed the man's shirt covered ribs, making his body jerk in an unusual fashion.

"Gggnnh! You little...!" Eddie yelled just as he was passing a mother with her child, who looked at him accusingly as she pulled her daughter closer and hurried on.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean....Not her, I just....," he tried to explain himself as he stammered after them to no avail, hearing the mother mention something to the little girl about, 'That is why you don't do drugs'.

Venom chuckled at how perfect the timing of that had been as Eddie growled.

"Alright, very funny. Now stay still and stay quiet," he muttered, trying not to move his lips too much as his outburst had attracted some unwanted eyes.

He'd made it another half a block before his sides were being attacked again as he stumbled and clamped his arms down.

"Eeheehee!" He gave a high-pitched giggle, prompting some of the street vendors to give him odd looks as he blushed and tried to walk a little faster.

"Will you stop? You're making me look insane."

"Can we talk again?"

"No!" Eddie hissed, "Just keep your fucking mouth shut, and wait until we-Ehahahah!"

The tentacled goo dug into his armpits for a few moments as Eddie squirmed in place and laughed wildly.

"No, not there!" He yelped just as the tickling stopped, looking up to find people had paused on the street to stare at him with curious eyes.

"I uh...heh.....I'm just uhhh....," when he couldn't think of any kind of believable explanation he quickly just turned and walked away again.

"I hate you so much right now," he whispered loudly through gritted teeth, hearing Venom laugh from within and knowing he was getting a big kick out of making Eddie look like a fool.

"Think that's funny? Well guess who's eating nothing but salads for the next week or two."

Venom's snickers immediately were cut off as he was now silent for a moment.

".....You're bluffing," his voice was full of uncertainty and worry and that made Eddie smirk, knowing he had the upper hand now.

"Tickle me again and find out, fucker," Eddie threatened vaguely, and just let Venom stew in his thoughts for now about whether he was being serious or not.

It seemed to work as he had now made it a few blocks without incident, even stopping to have a nice chat with Mrs. Chen when he came across her sweeping up her store front.

"Evening, Mrs. Chen."

"Hello Eddie. Not going to buy a chocolate bar today like usual?"

"No, no chocolate. I was thinking about going on a diet actually," Eddie smirked slightly as he rubbed at his stomach.

"Ohhh, he's not going to like that," she smiled, referring to Venom and knowing that he was the one who had the sweet tooth.

"Well it's for his own good. Besides he's been misbehaving a lot lately so I had to put my foot down. Say you don't happen to sell any saHAAlads, do yoohou?" His body spasmed out of nowhere as the shop keeper gave him a concerned look.

"What's wrong, Eddie? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm f-INE! I'm juhust....Venom keeps....teehehehehee...I...I gotta go-ho, Mrs. Chen," Eddie stuttered through his giggles as he gave her a wave and continued on his way down the street.

"Don't worry, dear, he'll be back for that chocolate," Mrs. Chen called to Venom with a smile as the alien peeked out from under the back of Eddie's jacket and gave her a wink.

"V! What did I tell you?!" Eddie spat once they were out of earshot, "You really want to eat nothing but salads for a week?!"

All was quiet for a few moments before Venom finally gave a reply that made Eddie's skin crawl.

"Worth it."

A split second later and the tendrils were everywhere on his upper body; this time staying underneath his t-shirt to get directly at the bare skin. They were wriggling all over from his hips and belly all the way up his sides into his armpits, and there was nothing Eddie could do to try to hide his reactions.

The man was in a laughing fit now as he nearly fell over but managed to find his footing and continued to hurry down the sidewalk despite all the people staring at the hysterically laughing man as he went by. The tickling was unrelenting this time as he desperately looked for some kind of escape.

He finally was able to duck down an alleyway, stumbling and tripping over a garbage can as he went further down. After giving a brief look to make sure no one was around he collapsed with his back against a wall and shouted through his laughter.

"Okaaahaay! Okaahaahaaay! Hahahaha! You caahaan tahahalk agahahain! Now pleeeheease st....stop tihihickling meeheee!" His arms uselessly pressed to his sides as he kicked out and squirmed.

"And the salads.....?" Venom pressed with goo squirming up to tickle the reporter's sensitive neck as well, making him squeal out giggles.

"A johohoke! Juhuhust a johohohoke! Ahaahahaheeheehee! Plehehease buhuhuddy! I'm sohohorry!" Eddie shouted for mercy and was grateful when it was granted to him as he tried to calm down and get his breath back. Venom then popped out of his jacket to give him a shit-eating smile.

"Nice of you to come around, Eddie."

"....You're an asshole," Eddie glared playfully at him, giving him a small shove.

"Takes one to know one."

"Yeah? I thought I was a pussy?"

"Yes, but you're our pussy," the symbiote replied as Eddie's face gradually twisted in revulsion.

"Uhhh, thanks? I mean, that hardly sounds like a compliment, but thanks?"

"The best pussy we've ever had," Venom grinned proudly, in his mind thinking that had sounded better as Eddie only sighed and put his face in his palms.

"Please stop."

"Definitely the biggest."

"You can still eat me, right?"

[thewertsearch]

@manorinthewoods asked: Vriska and Eridan have now killed one person each. Tavros and Feferi's respective moons have been destroyed; as such, they cannot be revived via dream selves or the moon-crypt slabs. What do you think will happen now? ~LOSS (18/5/24) @manorinthewoods asked: Welcome to Murderstuck, aka Homestuck's version of Canaan House. Who do you think's going to survive this? ~LOSS (22/5/24) Anonymous asked: tavros and feferi are D----EAD! do you think they'll stay dead? you've already stated your opinion that there are death flags like crazy all over vriska, so do you think anyone else will die? if so, who? Anonymous asked: Now that the bodies have started to hit the floor, what's your prediction for who's gonna survive to meet the humans?

I'm actually doing to do something a little different this time, and analyze the situation primarily from an author's perspective, rather than an in-universe one. I had a lot of fun doing that with yesterday's Kanaya post, so I want to try it again.

Let's enumerate the remaining trolls, in ascending order of how likely I think they are to kick the bucket (😳) during Murderstuck.

There's no chance whatsoever that Sollux will die. His Doom prophecy is fulfilled, and if he were to die a third time, it would break his long-established duality theme. Plus, he'd have predicted it, and would have been complaining about it since Hivebent. He's fine.

Death flag score: 0/10.

We just got Aradia back. She's not even involved in Murderstuck, seemingly travelling to the Furthest Ring after being resurrected, so none of the murderers can touch her anyway.

Aradia is a powerful time manipulator who can freeze even the most dangerous enemies. It would take a lot more than Eridan and Gamzee to defeat someone who can stalemate Perfect Jack, and I predict that she'll survive the rest of the Act with ease.

Plus, killing her again so soon would feel really cheap. Been there, done that.

Death flag score = 0.5/10

Karkat and Terezi are too important to die.

This doesn't always guarantee a character's survival - A Song of Ice and Fire comes to mind - but ASOIAF kind of proves my point, doesn't it? Martin can throw all the Red Weddings he likes at us, but everyone still kind of knows that the really important characters aren't going to die until their arcs are complete. If A Dream of Spring ever actually comes out, Daenerys will still be around, and you can take that to the bank.

So no, I don't think Karkat and Terezi will be going anywhere. Now that Kanaya appears to be dead, they're undeniably the most important trolls remaining, alongside Vriska. And we'll get to Vriska.

Death flag score: 1/10.

I know it's weird to predict that an already deceased character won't die, but I wrote an entire post last night about why I believe this to be the case.

tl;dr: it doesn't make narrative sense for Kanaya to stay dead.

Death flag score: 2/10.

Now, we're onto the characters who I think might actually die.

Gamzee's still alive at the end of the countdown, so he'll at least survive the next couple of hours.

Certainly, his position seems rather precarious. His stated intent to wipe out the entire Veil will make him a lot of enemies very quickly - and based on the image above, he clearly gets into some sort of trouble. That scratch almost looks like it could be the work of Jack's sword.

However, I have a hard time believing the Most Important Character In Homestuck is going to die less than halfway through Homestuck. He's been saying all sorts of cryptic nonsense lately, and he strikes me as someone whose role in the story will expand even more than it already has. Gamzee is the one character on this list we know will stay relevant for the entire comic.

I don't think he's going to achieve his murder mission, of course. I think he'll probably be 'defeated' somehow, and expelled from the Veil by the surviving trolls, only to pop up again sometime later. There's still a chance that he'll be killed - but if he is, I'm 100% sure that he'll return in some form. Gamzeesprite would be even worse than Calsprite, in my opinion.

Death flag score: 3/10.

Yes, I still believe Vriska will die - but I don't know if she'll die in Murderstuck.

Scratch positioned her as someone who will perpetuate a monumental, large-scale mistake, and I don't think there's anything she could do on the Veil that fits the bill.

However, Vriska is more imaginative than I am. She could easily pull a trick out from up her sleeve that I didn't see coming - some terrible, horrible idea that earns all of Scratch's foreshadowing in one fell swoop. Vriska is known for her Incidents, and you never know when the next one is on the horizon.

Death flag score: 4/10.

There's not a lot tying Equius and Nepeta to the Veil, is there?

They don't have strong relationships any of the remaining trolls, and even among the B-team, they've barely had any prominence since we've left Alternia. Killing one or both of them would up the stakes of Murderstuck without introducing the narrative issues that, say, a dead Karkat would cause.

Plus, if one of them dies, then the other would immediately gain an incredibly strong motivation, and become a more prominent character overnight. I already like Nepeta - but a heartbroken, vengeful Nepeta hunting Eridan down across time and space? That's a fucking arc.

They could also both die, and return to the story from another direction. It hasn't escaped my notice that almost all the 'important' trolls are Prospit Dreamers, and the two Furthest Ring explorers are Derse girls. I've been wondering for a while now if the solution to the Veil's bloated cast is to split the trolls back into the Red and Blue Teams, with the Red Team joining the kids outside the session, and the Blue Team joining Aradia in the Ring for some secondary mission. I guess that implies Tavros will be resurrected, but there do seem to be hints that that might happen.

I don't want either of these two to die, but... well, killing them would raise a lot of interesting possibilities.

Death flag score (both of them together): 6/10

Death flag score (one of them) : 7.5/10.

Eridan is screwed.

Neither the story nor the trolls can allow him to ally with Jack and lead him to the Veil, and they'll do anything they can to stop him. I don't think anyone's inclined to show him mercy, either - Kanaya and Feferi were very popular.

I don't really see any way out for him. He has no allies, he can't Hopesplode everyone at once, and he's never shown himself to be particularly resourceful. I think if there's one troll practically guaranteed to be Murderstucked, it's him.

Death flag score: 9/10.

[kremlin]

"This event ends the moment you write us a check, and it better not bounce, or you're a dead motherfucker" -- Big Bill Hell

There was a time when you'd see little old ladies paying for the groceries with a hand-written personal check, holding up the line, causing an immediately-forgiven slight sense of annoyance with those behind her. Buddy. Those days are over. They've been over. What, did you think you were going to just pop a couple extra zeroes on the end of your paycheck there? Maybe scan your paycheck, open it in photoshop, make a template, print em out all nice? You think you're the first to think of that, dipshit?

It takes the law a long time to catch up with the state of the art. You're reading this on the internet, which means you never use checks. The law has caught up. Your ass will be going to prison immediately and you will see zero return.

You can't even kite checks anymore, and hell, nobody under 40 will even know what that means, due to the blazing fast, two day settlement on all ACH transactions. Let me paint you a picture.

You get paid on Friday, but it is Monday, and bills are due on Tuesday. And you're broke: $0 in the bank. Goose egg. Pop open your checkbook, go to a store, "buy" some things, write a check for the amount. The cashier takes it!

Now take those things you "bought", across town, to another store location, and return them for cold hard cash. Sweet. Bills paid. Friday rolls around, and you just make it to the bank to deposit your paycheck before it closes. After the weekend, the checks you wrote finally post, and they don't bounce! You've kited a check. You've surreptitiously taken a zero-interest loan. And we know your broke ass. The interest rate on that short-term payday loan should have been straight up usurious. We're talking 29%. That makes predatory fuckers like us horny for sex. We're so mad. Now you are going to Federal Prison. For a good minute. Fuckface.

COST: $0.10 (With banks offering free checking accounts + Bic pen)

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor sleet, if you fuck with the mail, we'll rip your nuts off" -- Ronald Mail (Inventor of Mail)

Many people have this misnomer that the most powerful people in politics are democratically elected. The president, of the United States, of America, is a stupid cartoon hotdog. All of them, I don't care. Way less clout than you'd think. Brilliantly, it is the people that the hotdog president appoints who are actually doing anything significant. The director of the CIA. The fucking chairman of the Federal Reserve. Probably the, like, most senior, uh, general of the military, and shit too. I don't know, we don't "do" army here at Bloomberg. You probably don't even know their names! I don't! These are the ones you should be seeing in your sleep.

There's another position like that. Appointed directly by the hotdog. The Postmaster General. That's a real title. He's the CEO of the mail, and buddy, what he may lack in political power relative to the director of the CEO, he makes up in raw sexual energy. Total Tom Selleck energy. Like an airline pilot. We're talking Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I'm tentpoling in my black business slacks just writing this, and all my Bloomberg newsroom bros are peering over my shoulder and also tent-poling. We're not gay though, and especially me, I'm probably the least gay, but sometimes I just lay awake for hours at night what that mustache would feel like pressed against my lips, the unbelievable and utter, total sense of security I'd feel burying my head into his hard chest.

You get it. He's your dad. And if you fuck with the mail, you've fucked with the tools in your dad's garage. And dad's been drinking. You're in for it, bucko, you are in trouble. Do you think the United States Postal Service actually makes any money? Hell no. It costs like five bucks to mail a box basically anywhere I can think of and they give you the boxes for free. You can just walk in the post office and take them. I do that, and then just throw them away, I don't know why, some kind of compulsion. Being able to move shit around like this, quickly, cheaply -- Jesus H, I've got a huge amount of money in my bank account, probably tens of trillions of dollars (due to financial knowledge gained from reading Bloomberg articles) and I could probably mail every single person ever something and still come out in the black.

No way pal. They've thought of that already. The Postmaster General is going to know every time, and he's going to grab you by the shirt collar, wearing his cool as fuck hat, and you're going to get your pants pulled down, and your bare ass spanke...I need to go use the restroom real quick.

We rely on the mail system to get important shit done. It's not something to be taken lightly, and it isn't. Trust me. This is why, like almost every other person who receives mail in this year 2023, I just fucking put a wastebasket under my mail slot. I don't even shred that shit anymore. I just burn it. Takes less time.

COST: $0.63 (Postal stamp)

"Can call all you want, but there's no one home // And you're not gonna reach my telephone // Out in the club, and I'm sipping that bubb // And you're not gonna reach my telephone" -- Lady Gaga

I read something wild that the children of today do not know what a dial tone is, because of how fucked up and stupid they are. Isn't that super fucked up?

While it's not really our style, allow me to fill you in on some ancient, arcane knowledge about the telephone. You can turn it on, and then you can punch in numbers. Any numbers. Random ones, or maybe not random ones. If the ten numbers you punch in are the same as the numbers in someone else's telephone number, their phone will ring, and then you are talking to them. This is called "Phreaking".

Here's the kicker: You can tell that jackass anything you want. "Oh, Hi, Yes, I am Reginald Sumpter calling from Avalon Consulting LLC, we are just following up on the invoice we sent you. Please remit to ###### routing ###### account."

BOOM! Your name isn't Reginald whatever and that company doesn't exist, but you just received a deposit. It's fucking beautiful. What have you done wrong? It isn't your responsibility to handle who your business' clients/etc are, it's their's. If they want to just pay you money for no real reason, well, that's kind of on them, isn't it? I haven't stuck a pistol in your face and demanded everything in the register.

Well, it's too clever. It's too slick. This is the United States of America. It's one thing to commit a felony like armed robbery, it's another thing to piss off someone in charge of the accounting division who uses a special bathroom you need a key to get into.

You can do it on the computer too, I use a PC Computer at work and send email, so you can see how it'd work there. You can make a document that is indifferentiable from a real invoice and, straight up, 1/3 of the time they will pay that shit. Lmfao.

It's called wire fraud because, uhh, duhhhh, there's wires. What do you think that thing is strung between the telephone receiver and the dialer? And computers? Give me a break. There's so many wires with those.

COST: $0.25 (Coin for payphone)

"People calculate too much and think too little." -- Charlie Munger

It is insane how dumb the common man can be when it comes to our world of expertise. I hear this same sentiment, like, ALL THE TIME:

"Durr hurr I will buy an insurance policy for my car or house or whatever so that in case something happens to it I will get money". And then that same person proceeds to drive safely or not burn their house down. Dumbest crap imaginable.

Let me break it down for you. Insurance is a two player competitive game. There is a winner and there is a loser. Go take out an expensive insurance policy on your American sports car. Buy a neck brace, a football helmet, and pack that bitch with throw pillows. Then get in the left lane of a major highway at like noonish, let it rip and then SLAM on your brakes. Hit from behind! Your fault! Congratulations. You have won insurance. How this gets past people is beyond me.

You can only do this once or twice before the insurance companies catch on. Then they don't want to fuck with you. It is also..I don't know man...something feels off about taking a car or a house, which like, some guy had to build and just destroying it, but that is only a weird emotional thing, since you're making money, more than whatever the destroyed thing is worth, so in reality you've built that house plus some extra. You've contributed.

COST: $106.00 (Average monthly car insurance payment)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

SUBSCRIBE TO MY WHATEVER FOR PART TWO, COMING SOON. i'll post it later today probably. whatever time frame will juice the numbers. have a sneaky peaky

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[too-much-tma-stuff]

What They Can't See (18+)

Requested by @traumafactory28: Invisibility exhibition kink jasonxdanny? 😃+ power bottom Danny

Danny and Jason were thrill seekers, had been since they were young, since long before they knew each other. They liked things extreme, fast, hard, and dangerous. That's what made them a match made in heaven, or maybe hell given the fucking trouble the two of them got into, sometimes literally! Their sex life was one of the best places to take such risks after all~

They would try just about anything at least once, but some of them were more exciting then others, and this one was particularly exciting to Danny. The risk of it, the thrill, and the use of his powers made it all his wheelhouse, and tonight he was in charge. If he had wanted to play it safe maybe he would have chosen a rooftop, or somewhere out of the way for their first public excursion. But what would the point be then?

"Are you sure you want to do this here?" Jason whispered to Danny, breathless with excitement and nerves, they were already invisible and intangible in the back row of a church, thoroughly ignoring the ongoing sermon.

"Of course I'm sure," Danny murmured back with a wicked grin. "They can't see or touch us, as long as we're quiet they won't even know we're here. Can you be quiet Jason~" Danny asked softly, palming Jason's dick through his pants making him inhale sharply.

"Sure I can," Jason hissed, agreeing to the challenge probably too quickly. "Can you?"

"We'll see," Danny practically giggled as he shifted off Jason's lap and knelt on the pew next to him, slowly and carefully he undid the belt of Jason's pants and unzipped them, easing them down over his hips. Danny leaned down and nuzzled Jason's cock through his underwear, tracing the clothes outline with his lips and making Jason shiver as his blood quickly rushed away from his brain taking any objections with it. Danny was keeping quiet but Jason could feel the slight vibration of his purr on his lips where they pressed against his member, a feeling that made Jason nearly feral every time.

Jason glanced around them, at the strangers with their backs to them facing the pulpit, and felt a shiver run down his spine and curl into pleasure in his gut. Of course they shouldn't be doing this, but no one knew they were there so... what was the harm? Danny was used to keeping up invisibility through fights to the fucking death! he could do it during sex.

Jason's attention was pulled back down when Danny tapped his leg, and when he looked back Danny offered him a bottle of lube. He must have brought it with him in his pocket which was good thinking. really. Jason nodded and took it from Danny.

The pop of the lid was the loudest noise they had made so far but no one looked up and Jason exhaled slowly as he reached back. He pushed down Danny's pants and underwear together, Danny lifted his hips higher to make it easier and Jason had to resist slapping Danny's ass because that would definitely be way to much noise. Instead he focused on pouring lube over his fingers while Danny pulled down Jason's underwear as well.

Jason bit his lip and tried not to moan as Danny licked along the length of Jason's dick before wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking. Jason breathed hard through his noise as Danny sunk down, refusing to make a sound and waiting until Danny's mouth was well and truly full before reaching down to push two slick fingers into Danny's ass. It seemed to take him by surprise and Jason was glad he had waited so the cut off moan Danny gave was muffled and soft. He smirked down at Danny, who rolled his eyes back but did not pull away.

Jason worked Danny open with practiced ease on both of their parts. Danny knew perfectly how to relax into it and accept the stretch, and Jason knew all the placed Danny liked to be touched to work him up faster. All the while Danny sucked Jason off, both to muffle himself and because he was being a brat trying to make Jason break his own silence, which he was keeping quite well even if he did say so himself.

Danny decided that was enough sooner that Jason expected, sitting up and pulling away from both Jason's dick and his fingers. He moved fluidly to straddle Jason's lap again, never breaking contact lest the invisibility drop leaving Jason exposed, in a church, with his erection fully out.

"Remember to stay quiet," Jason murmured to Danny, and got a firm nip on the neck for his troubles.

Danny took a deep breath as he reached down between his legs and gripped Jason's shaft firmly, making sure it stayed in place, and holding his breath as he sank down slowly. Jason loved the sight of Danny's eyes rolling back as he bottomed out on Jason's lap, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding in a shuddering sigh.

He closed his eyes tightly like he was concentrating hard, pressing his palms against Jason's chest as he rocked his hips to find just the right angle. It was Jason's turn to hold his breath as Danny rose up again.

When Danny noticed he smirked and raised one hand to cover Jason's mouth before practically slamming himself back down on Jason's cock forcing a startled little moan out against Danny's palm. Danny laughed silently and leaned in against Jason, nuzzling against his neck.

"Remember to stay quiet," He teased, before gently nibbling Jason's earlobe making him shiver. "Be a good boy now~"

Jason shivered with pleasure, even as he licked Danny's palm in retaliation. Danny only hummed and pushed two fingers into Jason's mouth to toy with his tongue instead which just wasn't fucking fair! He could have at least kissed Jason as Danny started to fuck himself down on Jason's dick like he was a sentient sex toy!

It wasn't fair how fucking strong, and sexy, and powerful Danny was! Jason was a goner for him, and a goner in this situation which was so delightfully wrong and risky it had adrenaline pumping through his veins like a wildfire as the congregation stood to sing.

The sound acting as a cover as Jason lost control shamefully quickly and moaned around Danny's fingers. He laughed at Jason but took pity on him, and kissed him to muffle his moan as he came, too soon, Danny hadn't cum yet. Danny pulled back from the kiss and smirked down between, looking at his own still hard prick as Jason flushed shamefully.

"It's okay Jason, you can make it up to me later," Danny giggled softly and kissed him one more time. "Let's go home before anyone gets suspicious."

[throneofsapphics]

hiii can you grant my christmas wish??

I WISH FOR DARK POLY WITH ANYONE

- weird 🧠 anon 💗💗

dangerous hands

poly!feysand x reader

summary: Feyre and Rhys debate how to get through to you. 

warnings: dark poly!feysand, light smut, shoving

word count: 1006

a/n: yes I can! merry christmas to you!

Rhys ran his finger down your shoulder, you tightened under his touch. The corners of his mouth turned down, that was unusual. Usually his touch had the opposite effect on you.

He flattened his palm on your shoulder, the tense cord of your muscle beneath his fingers. Fingertips dug into your skin as he leaned down, his mouth mere inches from your ear. “Is everything alright, love?”

“Fine,” you replied, a moment too quick.

His hand moved, trailing across your chest to grip you, just firm enough for you to know he had control, that in a moment he could snap your neck and end your existence. He'd never do it, he loves you too dearly to let you die, even if that was your one true desire. Besides, your death would destroy Feyre, and he could never do that to her.

He tilted your head back enough for their eyes to meet. “I don't like liars.”

You swallowed, her throat bobbing under his grip. “I'm not lying.” Rhys released you abruptly, shoving her a few paces away. You stumbled, barely catching yourself on the table, fingers white knuckled around wood, breaths heavy, head bowed.

Rhys loved you, but right now he had other things to worry about. “We'll talk later,” he said, and watched as you fled the room. Probably off to tell Feyre, and in turn get him in trouble with his mate. Sometimes, his brothers and cousins words about you would pop into his mind, but he never questioned if they were right. He always knew they had to be wrong.

You were one of the loves of his life, after all. A burgeoning artist Feyre had discovered in the rainbow quarter and taken under her wing, and eventually into their household.

-

They promised they wouldn’t go into your mind again, not after last time

“But I know she’s lying to me. She’ll be asleep, she won’t know,” Rhys insisted, running a hand through his hair.

“That makes it worse. I don’t want to lose her either,” Feyre glanced at their closed bedroom door, “but that’s a sure way to make it happen.”

She had a different look on how to handle situations like this with you. Rhys would try to push his way through, attempt a hundred different ways of getting through to you, but Feyre had learned patience worked best, that you'd come to them when you were ready. After all, you'd already learned there was no getting away from them.

But if the time came where she had to draw a line between invading your subconscious and losing you? Feyre already knew which side she stood on. The three of you were made, destined, to be together, no matter what it took. No matter what lines might need to be crossed, but there was a balance and she was doing her best to strike it.

“Let's go to bed,” Feyre murmured to Rhys, leaning up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned and their mouths caught each other, meeting in a sweet night's dream. He backed her against the wall, hands around her waist. One leg parted hers, her head arching back as he pressed against her core.

Just before a gasp could escape her lips, his hand pressed over her mouth, his lips grazing her ear. “Can you make yourself come like this, Feyre darling?”

She nodded rapidly.

Minutes later, the door opened and they slipped inside. You were laid near the edge of the bed, one arm hanging off. Normally they'd roll you to the middle, but Feyre glanced at Rhys, the evidence that he hadn't been completely satisfied, and slipped into the middle of the bed.

Neither noticed when you slipped out in the middle of the night. Neither noticed when a lone figured crossed past the wards surrounding their home. Neither noticed as you tasted freedom, bittersweet on your tongue.

-

They could forgive any sin of yours, but this one was stretching it. You couldn't save yourself, you were vulnerable, in danger, and despite his attempt to move the moon and stars to get you back to them, Rhys couldn't find you.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the end of the now constantly disheveled strands.

Feyre was pensive, Nyx wouldn't stop crying, and Rhys? Rhys couldn't fix his mind.

They'd entertained the thought that you were taken for approximately five seconds, you'd been biting at the leash, so to say, for far too long for that to be reasonable, but they hadn't stricken it entirely. Did you stage your own kidnapping somehow?

Sleep. Rhys needed to sleep, his thoughts kept circling over and over to dangerous places.

He should've slipped into your mind, ignored Feyre's concerns, ignored everything raging against his instincts.

One week without you, and they were falling apart at the seams. Not even that, the entire world felt like it was exploding. He was back in the war, Feyre in spring with limited contact, but this time? He couldn't reach you, no matter how hard he tried. Had you been afraid they'd read your mind and find impenetrable barriers?

Had someone gifted you something to block them out? Did something like that exist?

This line of thinking was getting him absolutely nowhere, but every mental road he led down always brought him back to more…

“Fucking questions,” Rhys slammed his hand down on his desk. “I need a damned answer,” he whispered, a broken plea.

“I might have something for you,” Azriel appeared in the doorway. He wasn't surprised he'd managed to sneak up on him like that. It wasn't too terribly hard to do in his current state, at least for a shadowsinger.

Still, he lifted his head to meet unreadable hazel eyes as the male crossed the short distance between them, letting a folded piece of paper flop down on the table.

He unfolded it, and for the first time in a week, Rhys grinned. The type of grin that promised retribution.

[27spoons]

Wintering | Yellowjackets

summary: Late S2, you decide that the team could use some Christmas spirit. So, you do what you can to bring them some.

pairing: just general platonic yj/reader

warnings: n/a

wc: 1560

ao3

Snow falls delicately around the cabin as the fire crackles before you. Van adds another log as she takes a seat beside you, the orange glow flickering across her face.

"We'll need more wood soon." As the flames consume the log, she asks, "Didn't you draw the card?"

"Yeah," You nod, taking a quick glance outside. "Guess I just hoped it would stop snowing before I went out." The snow isn't falling harshly, just large snowflakes slowly descending to the ground. "Looks like I might have been hoping for too much." You sigh as you look back to the fire.

"Yeah, well, everyone has to play their roles." Van remarks flatly, "Everyone draws cards for chores. Yours just happens to be gathering wood today. Don't see Nat and Travis complaining about hunts."

You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." You push yourself to a standing position, "I'll go get started before it gets dark out." In response, Van makes some sarcastic half-comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Tensions have been high since Javi. Everyone copes differently, you suppose. And she does have a point. You guys do need firewood, and everyone does have a role to play.

You throw on another hoodie, and if you had known you'd end up stuck out in the middle of fucking nowhere, Canada, you would have packed gloves. You miss having warm fingers sometimes. You miss a lot of things, actually. But warm fingers are the most significant thing you miss right now.

Grabbing the axe from the wall, you pause before you leave, overhearing a conversation between Mari and Gen. Christmas. They're talking about when Christmas could be. Has to be soon, right? Or maybe it already passed?

Now, that's an idea.

You grab the rope as well and make a mental plan. Will you chop down some trees for wood? Yes. But you're also surrounded by pine trees. There has to be one out here that would fit inside the cabin.

It's not the first tree you cut. Or the second. Or even the third. Those are for firewood. God knows if you showed up with a pine tree, talking about Christmas, with nothing to keep the fire fed, none of the girls would be all that eager.

Well, maybe Misty. But Misty is… Misty.

It's nearing sunset by the time you find the perfect tree. Well, perfect is an overstatement, considering it's bald in a few spots, and you accidentally slipped while cutting it, so now there's a giant gash in the trunk, but whatever.

A tree, anyway.

When you drag it back to the cabin, it takes a little more effort than usual. Typically, you'd debranch it before moving it, but that's hard to do when you plan on using this tree as a Christmas tree. Doesn't help that by the time you get the tree down, it's almost pitch dark out.

Damn Canadians and their winters with their lack of sunlight.

"Need a hand?" Nat leans against a post outside the cabin with her arms crossed as you approach, dragging the tree behind you with exertion. "Surprised you brought another tree back. Seemed like the ones you got were enough for now."

You shake your head as you drop the rope onto the snow out front, "Not for firewood." You stretch your back, groaning as you feel something pop into, or out of, place. "Thought we could, uh, maybe… Christmas." You gesture to the pine.

"Seriously? Christmas?" The hunter scoffs, "Yeah, nothing like thanking Santa Claus for our dead friends." She then sighs and shakes her head, "Sorry. Just… yeah. You want a hand?" She takes a step off the porch and into the snow, joining you at your side. "I can help you bring it in."

"God, please." You murmur as you unwrap the rope from the trunk, "If I try to move it again, I'll probably throw my back out or something." A tense laugh follows the statement as you rub the back of your neck. "C'mon, let's, uh…" You move to one end of the tree as Nat takes the other, and you two hoist it off the ground with simultaneous grunts.

"Is that a Christmas tree?!" Misty is the first to speak up, because of course she is, when Nat kicks the door open as you two move the tree inside.

You find yourself smiling all the same. "Yep." You and Nat move the tree to the corner of the main area, setting it down with a thud. "Dunno when Christmas actually is, but… we had a prom, had a baby shower. Why can't we… do something else, y'know? Make things slightly more tolerable for a little while." You walk over to the fire and warm your hands in front of it as the others glance over at the tree with mixed expressions. 

"This is stupid." A voice cuts through, "Hardly anything, or any reason, to get into the… "holiday spirit."" Shauna scowls as she appraises the tree.

"Could be fun." Van shrugs with a grin, "Sing Christmas carols." She laughs at that as if finding the idea itself funny.

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Misty chimes in, "I could-"

"No." Mari cuts her off with a scoff, "We’d be better off listening to wolves howl."

"But it isn't the worst idea." Taissa nods, "The tree. Not the… carols." She adds for clarification, waving a hand dismissively in Misty's direction.

"We need something to distract us right now." Lottie offers quietly, "Something more than this. We could… use it as a way to honour the ones we've lost. It doesn't have to be for no reason."

"We could carve some ornaments! Or use some paper to make some paper snowflakes! Decorate the tree properly!" Misty is practically bouncing on her heels at this point. And… yeah, you saw that coming. Hardly surprising she's the most excited about the idea. "We don't need presents for it to be Christmas!" She adds, "Just each other!" 

The last statement earns a collective groan from the group and a scowl from Shauna.

"Could use some paper from my SAT book." Akaliah says as she rummages through her bag, "More useful as snowflakes than study material at this point…"

"And someone," Van shoots you a grin, "Just chopped down a few trees, so we've got the wood to make some shitty ornaments. We could do this."

"This is stupid," Shauna repeats louder this time. 

"Yeah," Nat snorts, "But… Lottie is right. We could use a distraction. What's the harm?" She shrugs and leans back against a wall. "Not like we really have much to lose by spending half a day doing… this." She gestures to the tree with one of her hands before crossing them again. 

Silence falls over the groups as everyone considers this. No one seems to have any strong complaints or actual reasons not to do it.

"Great!" Misty says finally, cutting through the silence and clapping her hands. "It's settled! We'll have Christmas in a few days!" And, since no one is arguing with her, it gets added to everyone's mental calendar.

The next few days are spent mostly the same, except for the people carving ornaments and cutting snowflakes to decorate the tree. Not everyone partakes, but those that do have a noticeable morale boost.

By the time "Christmas" comes around, the tree is looking… more like a Christmas tree and less like a regular pine tree.

"Someone call Charlie Brown and tell him we stole his tree." Van snorts as the group takes in sight of the tree.

"Hey, at least we have more than one ornament." Tai chimes in with a grin from Van's side. "And it's got…" She gestures to the tree, "Less bald spots. And it's taller."

"Gee," Van replies, "Talk about the bare minimum."

"Well, I think that it's great." Misty says with a little too much cheer in her voice, "Now all we need is hot chocolate." She practically skips over to the base of the tree and takes a seat, very obviously expecting everyone to follow suit. When no one does, she pouts.

Then, an idea comes to her mind. "Van!" Misty says, turning to face the redhead. "Would you be able to tell us a Christmas story?"

Van perks up slightly, "That I can do." She grins lazily and takes a seat on a chair, and eventually, you and the others find their seats around Van. Like kids listening to their grandpa spin a tale.

"Alright." Van grins, slapping her thighs as she glances around, "Alright. Let's set the scene. Suburbs of Chicago, right around Christmas time. We're following the McCallister family, specifically, Kevin McCallister…" 

As Van starts retelling Home Alone to the best of her abilities, the fire crackles in the background, the tree stands (mostly) proud in the corner of the cabin, and things are okay for the first time in a while. You can pretend to be teenagers listening to a Christmas tale and not worry about what tomorrow brings. That's a tomorrow you problem.

"I still think it's stupid that they forgot a whole child," Shauna grumbles at some point during the story, earning a laugh from some of the girls.

"Five kids?" Tai rolls her eyes, "I'd probably forget one, too."

a/n: i have yellowjackets brainrot and i love christmas so much its not even funny bro

i also havent written fanfics since i was 16 but yk theres always time to start again

[ncis-nerd]

Silk Chiffon

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader (with uterus)

Warnings: Smut

Link to masterpost

About: Mornings with your girlfriends are the best, Wanda's food is to die for and Nat is gonna be the death of you. You make the mistake of underestimating Nat and her strength.

..

..

The light shined in, blinding me. "It's so brighttt" I groan, snuggling into my warm gfs embrace. Nat looks down at me and starts to stroke my hand, "Good morning to you too detka" she hums. I raise my head out of her neck and my eyes meet hers. She leans in and her soft lips press against mine. "Mmm you taste like cherries" I giggle. "Oh? I do? Maybe I sho-" she begins to attack me peppering kisses all over me. "Na-nat!" I gasp, squirming under her.

She straddles me, sitting on my lap. Pinning my arms to the bed, with her hands. "Well this is a lovely sight" Wanda exclaims, standing by the doorframe. Her eyes glaces towards us both, admiringly. "W-wanda help! She's attacking me!!" I whine. This catches both me and natty off guard so I take the opportunity to get revenge. Nat's hands have lessen the pressure on mine, leaving me trapped no more.

I flip us over, raising my arms and causing nat to go under me. I smirk, proud of my work. Obviously Nat is very strong since she is a spy, should've known I wouldn't be a match for her. She goes the the gym all the time and works out with Wanda while I sit there and play my Nintendo switch. Sometimes I like to just watch them there, all hot and sweaty on those machines. The muscle in their arms popping out when they lift those weights..

My plan failed as she overpowered me and I underestimated just how good of an idea this was. She almost immediately holds me in place, pushing my hips against her unclothed stomach. I jolt, my clit throbbed. Unexpecting that, I glace at Wanda. She is still standing by the doorframe, except this time she has her hands in her pants and she's watching us. Getting off on Nat teasing me. Touching herself and rubbing her clit, she gasps softly and makes eye contact with you. I can tell she's close.

I focus my attention on Nat again. She stopped the action and I whined. Her eyes burned into mine. I knew this wouldn't be over. "So detka, we show go eat that delicious breakfast that our wonderful girlfriend has made" Nat exclaims, moving me off her lap. Nat stands up and adjusts her hair, putting it up into a ponytail. I gasp, "So you're gonna leave me here all hot and bother?!" I pout. "No my love, you have fingers, you're free to fix your little problem yourself. No one's stopping you." Natasha says, making her way to the kitchen. I follow close behind, "but i want you" I murmur.

Nat opens the fridge and grabs the orange juice. "Sorry, what was that? Couldn't quite here you detka." Nat poured the juice into a cup. "nothing." I mumble. "Use your words darling. If you want something then be a big girl and ask for it." Nat says, taking out food for me. "Can we play right now Natty? I'm turned on and horny from before" I ask. Nat smiles and shuts the fridge. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it? And to answer your question, first get some food in your tummy then we'll see about getting to that. Especially since I haven't seen our redheaded girl in a while. She probably got an early start so the sooner we eat, the sooner we can join her." Nat smirks. My mouth waters, I don't know if it's from the food or the idea of Wanda touching herself and getting off.

I lift the fork up to my mouth, Wanda is the cooker in the group. She makes the best food and every time she is away, she tries to cook food for you and Nat. One time Wanda was gone for a week on a mission, you made the mistake of letting Nat cook. The house smelled burnt for days, a lingering scent of overcooked eggs. When Wanda came back she was so confused but from there on, it was decided that Wanda will cook from now on. You guys still never let Nat live it down.

"Honey, you there?" Nat looked at you concerned. "Mhm. Was just thinking about when you tried to make eggs and failed horribly" you giggled. "Oh?" Nat questioned. Suddenly, you remembered about Wanda and what Nat promised. You begin to speed up, take big bites. Your mouth overflowing with food. Nat shoots you a look. Trying not to laugh at you, she says "Slow down, we don't want you choking yet detka." This catches you off guard, you start to cough. "Wow, you must be really needy.. That's enough my love, let's go join Wanda now. You'd like that, yeah?" She said softly, rising from the seat across from you. You nodded.

note- feel free to leave song requests or scenario requests! this will all take place in the same universe btw.

and don't forget to leave likes, reblogs and comments!!

[moirindeclermont]

Today my thoughts about BridgertonS3 are all about Colin.

This gorgeous, spectacular fictional man that I love so deeply. What to know why?

Because he sets a model of behavior that is just not common to see. Not just the consent, the attentions, the fact that he amends his wrongs and trys to do better. And while I cherish every part of this, there is so much more to him.

He feels so much. And while this is not so uncommon, the fact that he shows his emotion is extraordinary uncommon. Think of Anthony, who tried so hard not to cry after hearing Kate was okay. And yes, Anthony has eldest daughter syndrome, I know, but while he still feels so deeply, he keeps everything inside (until he pops, no one can keep everything inside).

And now think of Colin, of how his emotion run just as deep as Anthony (it's a Bridgerton trait, after all) but he shows them. The man is utterly incapable of bottling up and I love him for that. In part because Pen deserves a man who will always show her how much she is loved and cared for.

But that's not the only reason: Colin would never tell his son that he can't cry, or that showing emotions is weak. It would be highly hypocritical, since Colin cries at least at every milestone their children pass. We need men like Colin.

I love him because it reminds the kind of partner I want to myself. I want someone kind and empathetic, occasionally excitable. I want someone who is not afraid to let me see their emotions on their face. Someone with whom I can be myself as well. And if it means crying over a song while walking, so be it. We'll cry and laugh together.

I'm so tired of men and women (because it's showing in women too sadly) who have to be this stoic people who can't show a weakness and can't cry. I want people (and characters based on those people) who cry often, who cry because their favorite song made the think of their first kiss, who cry simply because the world is so beautiful, how can you not cry sometimes remembering you are alive and here in this moment.

I want characters and people who feels the depths of anything they are feeling, because I can't think of something more horrible that being so stoic that nothing can pass your armour (I was that stoic, the day I started crying again was probably the day I started healing). And it's because of this that we need more characters like Colin Bridgerton.

This beautiful, gorgeous man, who feels so deeply and loves with his whole heart.