#i don't know which teams to tag this with :(

[satorella]

“𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥” [𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍]

You caught 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 attention at a soccer conference in Japan about a year ago, where you were hired to take pictures for the sports magazine you worked for. At first, it was just him being his usual arrogant and cocky self when he randomly gave you VIP tickets just because.

“Oh… uh… d-danke, Herr Kaiser…” [Thank you, Mr. Kaiser] You gave him a polite smile. He tilted his head, “Ah, you speak German?” “Just a little… enough for a tourist to get by.” You answered. He nodded and smirked, “Cheer for me, ja?” [Yes?] He pointed at the tickets in your hand as he turned to walk away. “Ja…” You gave an awkward little wave.

Neither of you had any idea where this would eventually lead though…

A couple days later, you woke up with your head throbbing, and Kaiser sleeping soundly next to you... naked under the sheets. You looked around, realizing you were in his hotel room, and both of your clothes were thrown carelessly all over the place; on the sofa, on the counter, the floor, your panties were even hanging on the damn lamp. Then it all started to come back to you. What was supposed to just be a few innocent glasses of champagne at the afterparty of his game, turned into a bit more… obviously. Once you came to, you slowly slipped out of his bed, searched for your clothes, and quietly left his room.

Fuuuuuck, did you really have a one night stand with Michael Kaiser?!?!

After a couple hours, you opened your suite door to...

"Guten Tag, Schöne." [Good day, beautiful.] Shit. "Herr Kaiser... hi... h-how'd you, um, know which room I was in?" You asked, looking both ways down the hallway. "I asked your little freund." [Friend.] He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway you left your, ah, kamera in my room. I figured you might want it back for work." He hands you your camera. "Oh! Danke!" You take the device. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I looked through some of the photos. I hope you don't mind." He finally says before leaning down to your ear, “I enjoyed seeing the ones from last night as well.” He whispers, making a shiver run down your spine. Pictures? From last night? The hell is this guy talking about? Confusion and curiosity etched on your face, you turned your camera on and clicked through the recent photos...

You, your colleagues, Kaiser and his team taking shots.

You and Kaiser pouring each other shots.

You sitting on Kaiser's lap.

You, and what looks like, grinding on Kaiser.

You, completely blissed out, taking a selfie with Kaiser kissing your neck.

You taking a picture with Kaiser in the elevator door's reflection; he stood behind you with his hands on your hips... while he was busy with your neck.

Kaiser leading you into his hotel room.

You, in Kaiser’s POV… sitting naked on the counter, eyes low and head thrown back as you laughed. (You honestly looked great in this pic… if it weren’t for you being naked😵‍💫)

Kaiser... taking body shots off you...

A mirror selfie with Kaiser positioned behind you... holding one of your legs up on the vanity... while he-

ALRIGHT, you got the point! You quickly shut off the camera and looked at anywhere else but him. He smirked, seeing how shy you suddenly got. "I-I'll, uh, delete these… don't worry..." You cleared your throat. "Just because you get rid of the evidence of our fuck-fest, doesn't mean I'll let you forget it." He shamelessly looks you up and down, "Are you free to do it again tonight?" You scoffed. The nerve of this guy!? "I-I'm not some bootycall, you perv! Du bist so ein perverser!" [You are such a pervert!] You whisper-yelled. He laughed at your attempt to insult him in his own language. "Really? But from what I can remember, all you could say was 'Micha! So gut! Bitte! Bitte mehr!' hm?" [So good! Please! Please more!] All the color drained from your face. “Okay. Guten Tag, und Auf Wiedersehen.” [Good day, and goodbye.] You tried to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand, “Nein. Wait.” [No. Wait.]

…And that’s how your love story all began. Annoying way to meet the love of your life, right? Agh! Aber du hast trotzdem gelernt, ihn zu lieben. 💆‍♀️ [Agh! But you still learned to love him.]

Ever since that day, he subconsciously started talking to you more and seeing you more at soccer conferences; country to country. You were the only foreigner that could actually understand him and have a decent conversation with him in his native tongue. (Not to mention, you kept each other company at night.) At games, he would casually search the crowd for your familiar pretty face, knowing you’d be there; rocking his jersey, waving and screaming his name. You showed up for him at every game, wherever it was. Even though he was still kind of an ass, your constant presence started to make him feel… something. Something he’s always wanted, but would never allow.

Kaiser wasn’t one to catch feelings. He’d usually cut out anything that would distract him from his goals. Nor does he really have that many friends due to his arrogant and rude personality. Sure, he has his team, but ehh. Then there was the thing going on with you. He actually didn’t mind having you around. You weren’t clingy and annoying like most women were. And he enjoyed the sex, of course. But after a while, he started to notice that things between you started to become something a little more than just sex. Even just talking to you became part of his daily routine. You guys met up to have breakfast/lunch/dinner together if you were in the same city, and FaceTimed if you weren’t. There were times where he just craved to hear your sweet voice after a gruesome day of practice. Craved to hear your stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, but it was really your laugh that he wanted to hear when he was having some depressing late night thoughts. God only knows why you still stick around. He’s insufferable half of the time, but here you were… choosing to deal with his bullshit.

All of it.

With time, you started to become the support system, the companionship, the patience, and the love he’s always wanted, needed, but was too prideful and damaged to ever ask for. You understood him. You were always there for him. And for once in his lonely life, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Currently, you and Kaiser were in his hotel room, massaging his scalp as he laid his head in your lap. You came to surprise him at one of his home games in his home country, Germany, after telling him just a few days ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

“I could have flown you out here, meine Schönheit. Tsk.” [My beauty.] He lightly scolds you. “But that would’ve ruined the surprise, ja?” You smiled. “Tsk.” He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to his neck, “Here. Massage me here.” He demanded. “So sassy, mein Schatz.” [My darling.] You chuckled, but did as he said, massaging over his blue rose tattoo. He closed his eyes. “Your touch, it’s relaxing, meine Liebe.” [My love.] He said, which was a little unusual. He was being sweet and focusing on you, rather than bragging about how his team wouldn’t have won without him; which was what he usually did after a win. You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead as a reply. You weren’t sure how to respond to that… without saying the wrong thing and risking ruining his good mood. He opened his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you. He pulled your head back down, capturing your lips in a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and caressed your cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Engel.” [I love you, Angel.] He said quietly, which was another rare occasion with Kaiser where he actually used his words to express his feelings. “And I love you.” You smiled, hovering your lips over his, “Are you okay?” “Ah, meine Liebe. I’m alright, just… tired from playing.” He said as he reached up to move a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were scanning your face, watching every expression and detail. “I’m glad you’re here...” He ran his thumb over your cheek, “I can always count on you.” He sat up and pulled you on top of him, his hands moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him.

“Michael!” You gasped as you felt his semi-hard poking the inside of your thigh. “I thought you said you were tired?” “I said tired from playing, mein Liebling. Not in other activities.” You playfully rolled your eyes. Ah, now you understand why he’s being so lovey dovey… he’s horny! He chuckled in his rough German accent as his hands began to roam your body. “I missed you these last few weeks.” “Ja, I can see that… or I mean, feel it.” You snickered. “Ah, mein Engel. Du bist so wunderschön.” [My Angel. You are so beautiful.] He praised you as he gave your jawline soft kisses. He grunted a little when he felt your lower half grind against him, causing him to squeeze the plush fat of your ass under your denim skirt. He wanted to be gentle, but that’s proving to be quite difficult for him right now. He needed you. “Mein Engel, bitte. Lass mich dich lieben.” [My Angel, please. Let me love you.] He pleaded quietly as his hands continued to roam your body, slowly lifting his jersey off of you. “Ich will dich.” [I want you.] You let the jersey fall to the ground, tilting your head to the side as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you throb at your core.

Kaiser turned, laying you down on the sofa and positioning himself in between your legs. “Ich liebe dich.” [I love you.] He murmured as his lips began to trail down your neck, down your chest. He took one breast in his mouth, and sucked on your hardened nub. You let out a whimper, arching into him, practically smooshing your chest in his face. His tattooed hand journeyed down your body. “So Schön.” [So beautiful.] He hissed, pushing your legs open wider for him to have more room. He wasted no time in bunching your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side, dragging a finger up your slit, collecting your slick. His finger began tracing circles around your entrance before slowly pushing it inside you. “Ah, du bist so feucht für mich…” [You are so wet for me…] “Hnngh!” You moaned, nails digging into the sofa. “Komm für mich. Be the good girl I know you are.” [Come for me.] He murmured against your skin, lightly nipping you in random places. He inserted another finger in you, pumping at a slow, but good, pace and curling them both slightly to rub that sweet spot that always had you seeing stars. “M-Micha!” You whined, writhing beneath him. “Let yourself go on my fingers…” He said, his voice low and raspy. And like the good girl you were for him, you did as he said. As always. You shut your eyes as you came on his long, thick fingers; panting and moaning his name. He grabbed your chin during the middle of it with his free hand and forced you to face him. “Look at me.” He demands. Your eyes fluttered open, trying to stop them from rolling back from pure ecstasy. “That’s it. There’s my girl.” He lets you ride out your high, before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

He reached between you to pull the knot on his robe loose, and lets it fall on the floor next to the jersey, then positions himself at your entrance. “Ich brauche dich...” [I need you...] He whispers as he pushes into you, letting out a deep groan and grunting. “Gott, du bist so eng.” [God, you’re so tight.] You let out a louder moan at the stretch, your nails digging even more into the sofa. He slowly slid out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeper. Harder.

“So gut...” [So good...]

Fuck, maybe you two should spend time apart more often.

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[mono-dot-jpeg]

stupid e-couple - s. nagi

summary; convincing nagi to be your e-boy is surprisingly hard. how does one be so stubborn and so lazy at the same time?

genre/extra tags; one shot, based off of my other fic with kenma about league, fluff, comedy, nagi being nagi, league player ew (/j), i can say that bc im a league player, league terms and champ names are being thrown and no i will not elaborate on any of them, one (1) sexual joke literally at the start

word count; 567

[gender neutral reader]

"sei, you're a shit boyfriend."

"what about last night?"

you send him a withering glare. "seriously?" he looks at you with those stupid beady eyes that he always has. that slightly feigned innocence, he knows what's he's doing. he's a grown ass teenager. a stubborn one. but you were stubborn, too. "how are you so damn stubborn?!" you whip a pillow at his face, to which he doesn't even bother dodging. like the good boyfriend he was, he takes the pillow to the face and flops over on the bed pathetically.

"is this really that serious?"

"is it really that serious?" you mock him sarcastically. "god forbid i try to be cute with you."

"but you're so bad at xayah... why can't you just play support instead? you're so much better." he grumbled.

"but they're like the duo to play in the bot lane. plus, they're hot, just like us."

"but you're still bad at xayah."

"not the point, nagi!"

"why don't we just play like.. what we're good at?" he asked the obvious question that you were expecting. "like, you're good at lux.."

"what about playing lux ezreal?"

"i hate ezreal."

"but you're so good at him." you started filing through the mental list in your mind of bot support lane duos that couples would play to be insufferable fucks to their team.

"why do you want to do this anyways? we just match skins anyways.." he muttered tiredly as he flipped around on the bed, stomach down. his face buried into the pillows, listening to your antics. "are matching skins not enough for you?" he turned his head to rest his cheek on the pillow as he gives you that annoyingly endearing pout you've come to know and love.

"it is but, what if i just want to be cute with my boyfriend?"

he looks at your own pout on your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you so hard that you just ignore this issue until next time, but he's far too lazy right now.

"what about jinx ekko?" he asked.

"ekko is a jungler, baby."

"okay.. and? anyone can be a support if you try hard enough."

"people are going to report you."

he shrugged, "not the first time that's happened." it was clear that you both were at a standstill. neither of you were budging. but it's not like nagi wasn't denying your idea. he was simply telling you a possible solution and the issues with your idea. god, you hate when he's actually sensible.

"let's just go and check what matching skins we can get."

"yay.." he said dryly, shifting on the bed to let you lay next to him. the moment you take your spot, his arms snake around your waist, and his stark white hair invades your vision and lips.

"sei! your hair!" you spit out the tufts that get into your mouth. "move your big head." you tell him.

he grumbles but complies and moves to bury his head into your chest. your arms wrap around him as you hold your phone. he cuddles you with a gentle sigh on contentment. a comforting silence blankets you both, the sounds of soft breathing and tapping fingers can only be heard.

"you know it shouldn't matter if we're matching skins or champions, i think we're still cute." he mutters before you can hear him start to doze off.

[bunny-jpeg]

well behaved

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, married life, wife!reader, husband!price, (house) wife kink, dresses, missionary position & mating press, misogyny, darker themes

price ran his team tightly. he had to. it was life or death, and the manner in which he ran his team, he saw great success. so it was only natural for price to run his home the same way. while it wasn't like a military task force, it was still ran with set roles and tasks for all members. he was the husband and you the wife.

and being the wife of john price meant tasks steeped in tradition. price wanted a proper woman to be his wife and expected only the best from you.

"don't touch those, john." you smacked price's hand away lightly, "they're for dinner, silly." then leaned over to kiss him on the lips.

"ah, sorry, lovie. couldn't help myself." he replied, "you know how much i love watchin' ya cook dinner. even the carrots." he leaned over and pinched your behind as he watched you continue to cook for a moment longer. his gaze lingered for a moment before he went back to the living room to watch the same.

that was your task, to take care of the home. you cooked price's meals and served it to him. he loved your cooking, to him you cooked like a proper chef and you were all his!

you got the roast out of the oven and asked in your sweet tone, "honey, do you want to eat at the table or in front of the television?"

"table's good, petal." he replied before he got up with a slight huff from the couch and with his beer headed to the table. he watched you serve dinner and when you finally sat down, you had your own plate of dinner. the missus gotta eat too!

price eyes the roast,but then eyed you across the table. in the dress you wore. you often wore dresses and fine jewellery. you had to look like a respectable wife after all! not the slags who called themselves 'barrack bunnies' that mactavish brought him. you were price's good girl.

before you could start your meal, price gestured for you to come to him for a moment. you obeyed and price pulled you onto his lap. he kept a strong arm around you. "my missus made this all for me, huh?" he pulled you a little closer. he got some of the mashed potatoes on the fork and fed it to you.

you replied, "no, you eat!"

"oh, don't worry. if i'm still hungry. i'll just have you." he said as his thick fingers touched your inner thigh. "pretty thing." he cooed as he played with your soft skin as he ate. in the process he fed you parts of his dinner.

price's task of the unit was to work and take care of you. you took care of the home and he made sure you wanted for nothing. if the rock on your finger was anything to go by, you were well taken care of.

"mmm, john. honey."

he chuckled beofre he kissed your cheek, "gotta take care of the wife. can't have an unhappy home." he continued to eat, only pulling his hand away from you when he had to cut the meat with a steak knife.

but even your amazing roast was nothing compared to your sweet cunt. that of course meant that you couldn't even finish cleaning up the dishes before your husband had you hoisted into his arms and headed to the bedroom.

price loved to keep you up. only right for a husband to feel up his wife. he loved his big, calloused hands on your round behind or your soft hips. he groped you as he unzipped your dress once he finally put you down on the bed. he then got you out of your string of pearls. you really did live a fairly charmed life.

your husband continued to strip you free of your clothes and he licked his lips at the sight of you when you were in only your push-up bra. he then got you out of it then felt up your bare breasts. he toyed with your nipples using his thumbs.

"my woman." he said, "nabbed yourself an older man who loved to make a mess of your pretty pussy. your love men who are bigger, hairier and who can fold you in half to ruin your cunt." he eyed you up and down, "i bet she misses me, huh?"

you blushed even more and you ended up splayed out in bed under your husband. he rubbed your hefty cock up against you. you swallowed when you felt the blunt head right up against you.

"my beautiful wife. so perfect for me. from the meals you cook to the cunt that keeps my boys safe. no need to masturbate when i got myself a wife to fuck every night. making me food, keepin' my house clean. you have no need to think too hard when you have a husband to do it for you." he sank into you and he watched your back arch. your cunt tight around him as he started to fuck you.

mrs. price's cunt was heaven on earth.

"mmm, john!" you whined loudly. the blunt head of your husband's cock hit deep inside of you. it felt like he was past your cervix and you knew very well that john price was a womb bruiser.

he continued to move against you, he eyed you as he thrusts. he admired your soft breasts. they moved as price rocked into you. it left him hypnotized. price kept his weight onto you, he kept you pinned to the bed. you were his wife and you'd take every inch he gave you. you whined under him and he admired you. every curve you held. the softness of your body. you were a heavenly, beautiful goddess. price's loving wife.

he bullied his cock inside of you. your burly, string husband who could melt you with the warmth of his love. while your marriage was a little more traditional and a little unconventional but, you felt more loved and adored than with any other man you could ever love. your older, strong husband would always love you. he'd die for you. so it was only fair you kept him satisfied

and that wasn't hard given how obsessed he was with your pretty little cunt. no other way to die than between the legs of his missus. "you're beautiful under me, lovie. you look like heaven under me. takin' me like no one else." he chuckled, "that's my petal, takin' your husband beautifully."

you moaned a little louder as he continued to fuck your soaked cunt. this was everything. price didn't need a woman with a forty hour work week. no, he needed a wife to care for the home. to care for him. you spoiled him with love and he spoiled you with whatever you desired. whatever you craved.

that was what a proper man did for his wife, he made sure you were taken care of. he loved the sight of you as he fucked you. your knees were hiked up and his cock pushed into your further given the new angle. price knew he was a bruiser and he loved it when his pretty little wife's pussy took him. the sweet thing he got to make a mess of every night.

he moved further and laid heavy kisses on you. he couldn't get enough of you. you drove him mad. no wonder he did everything to make sure you were taken care of.

he was addicted to his wife, his little housewife.

"ah, honey." you moaned a little louder, the pleasure was realy working through you. right up to your core. price's heavy thrusts sent shocks through your blood and your achy core yearned for him. he was a good husband. a traditional one, but he loved you and you loved him. you tensed up at the hot feeling in your gut. everything felt alive in your body was you needed him. you relied on your husband, even for things like orgasms.

"ah, please!" you whined loudly. you sounded almost desperate as price fucked you faster. you felt the fire in your belly as he nudged his cock up against you.

price's pace lost focus and the man was relying on instinct to get you both to climax. you felt the immense heat take you over as the older man roughly fucked you. your sweet moans sounded whorish as he made you finish.

"beautiful petal. you know how to drive me crazy." he laugh, a little out of breath as he worked your achy pussy through climax. the stimulation made your mind go blank for a moment. he loved you, he loved your cunt. loved it so much that he didn't last much longer. it was like you had him under a spell. anything you want, you got.

price fucked you through his climax and made sure every drop of him was safe in your gummy soft pussy. he pressed his forehead against yours when he slowed to a stop. he kissed you lazily with a lot of tongue as he pressed his softening cock as deep as i would go. you made the ideal wife for him.

and in return price did anything for his missus <3

[imabookloverandafangirl]

Thanks @twomanyfandomshelp !

I think it would be invisibility

Flying squirrel is so cute!

At sports maybe

I really don't know

Science too

Or in the percy jackson world or in the wizarding world

When I was young I collected the tips of the pencils 😅

Lindor 😍

Chocolate!!!

Talk more with people

And now my questions!

Team dogs or team cats? (Both, but if I have to choose maybe cats)

Beach or mountains? (Beach)

Fav book ever? (The sun and the star by rick riordan and mark oshiro)

Where would you most like to go on holiday? (Mmm... I think in Egypt)

Strangest food you've ever eaten? (the cow's tongue. It wasn't bad)

What do others know you for? (for being smart and good at school, and also a booklover)

If you like Harry Potter, in which house would you be sorted into? (I think in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw)

The strangest thing that happened to you today? (I was humming "Welcome to paradise" by Green Day in my head and when I got into the car that exact song came on the radio, it seemed impossible)

Your childhood TV show? (Peppercorns, I don't know if you've ever seen them)

The job you've always dreamed of doing? (book writer)

Tag time!! @wormxd @roughbuddy @aylas-chemical-romance

@twocupsoforange-juice @deciduowl @mycycleangelo

@thatoneghostcosplayer @raytorosfave @burritello3000

@t4z-0n-p4wz @x-xawakeandunafraidx-x @ghostly-slut

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)

do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)

what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)

are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)

what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)

Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)

what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)

are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)

salty or sweet? (Sweet)

summer or winter? (Winter)

I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever

@wra1th-k1ng

@bladevoyager

@tragedyanddust

@kindred-spirit-93

@urfavgreekmythnerd

@sickneurotic

@ry-diggity

@we-are-but-dead-stars

@thestarryfalls

@tamaruaart

@hermesmoly

[lilghostiequinni]

Split Between

Main Masterlist Carcar Masterlist

Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Carlos Sainz x Oscar Piastri

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: You were always split between to garages, and they were, most times close together, now they aren't so close.

Requested: NO / yes

When you started dating both it was difficult at first, mainly because each weekend you would have to pick garage to be in.

It wasn't always the best arrangement, but you made it work.

Sometimes after races Oscar and Carlos would return to the hotel and wouldn't speak for hours to each other, and most times it would last longer if not for you telling them to talk to each other or you were staying with Lando.

In the time of knowing Oscar and Carlos, Lando had become your best friend.

Sometimes he was more your friend than he was to Carlos or Oscar.

But your boys would come knocking on Lando's hotel door within the hour, having made up whatever differences they had.

You had been split between garages your whole relationship, and with Lando being your best friend, and also being close to Charles you didn't really have a neutral ground to be at without some accusation from fans.

So, you made friends outside of the McLaren and Ferrari garages.

Friends in Red Bull and Williams, friends in Alex and Logan, in Max, then in Franco when he came.

You didn't like being split between the two garages, and sure your life would be a whole lot easier if they were on the same team, but it never mattered who they drived for as long as they drove.

When Carlos moved to Williams, you realized that you would lose the neutral ground of the Williams garage, but gained the Ferrari garage and Charles.

Which you lorded over Carlos, that you got Charles in the Carlos-Ferrari divorce.

Even though you were still split between two garages, you still had your boys and your friends.

Everything was easier with when they were there.

The grid, the ones that you hung out with the most, acted like your older brothers.

So whenever someone, other than your boyfriends came up to you, they stepped in.

Being split between two garages was difficult, but also it was a blessing because it meant you had places to hide from all the people who hated that you were dating two drivers.

But to also hide from Carlos and Oscar when you tease them and they wanted to get you back.

The other drivers, usually the ones on Red Bull and Williams, when they seen you running though the garage, they knew that you had teased Oscar or Carlos to far.

Lando would see you run through McLaren too, you would hide in Lando's driver's room, but that was usually only when you wanted to be caught, which was more often than not

Being split between two garages was hard, but it only made you stronger.

A/N: Second in the 100 Follower ship poll.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @taetae-armyyyyy @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[arceoptryx]

I’ve seen a lot of stuff abt dismp but I honestly have no clue what it is and don’t know if I want to open up a whole new rabbit hole. Could you help give me a framing for what it’s about and stuff?

Hi hi :3 thanks for asking Dismp (Divorcesteal) is a server made up of a lot of artists / writers / etc who were in the lifesteal community (a lot of us were also stream mods). While it uses a lifesteal plugin, a lot of the server is more interpersonal conflicts in relation to violent acts and the conflict between those who embrace the plugin and act more violent and instigate and those who reject the idea. As a player, its very fun to navigate this kinda of competitive server with a very low skill ceiling, as you'll have players build and fire arrow canons then drop their swords constantly when getting into fights. I'd say the current "lore" per say is about helplessness in the face of power, consequences for actions, insecurity and accepting love, and the conflict of differing playstyles on a "competitive" server. and gay marriage and divorce as you would expect by the title. everyone leans into storytelling, but not everyone is explicitly intentionally roleplaying a seperate character, most people act like more dramatized versions of themselves. There aren't any videos made on the server yet, but people do stream! Most would be happy to explain whats going on to twitch chatters if asked. Link to the vod archive that has a link to everyone who streams, we're trying to be better about filling it out but theres so much footage

My personal favorite moment of the server so far is The Eternal Winter, a vod where I have to survive hours in the tundra with my then serverlong enemy on stone tools and leather armor. and you can learn more about my team's huge plan in the vod "The 100 Million Block Problem" (other server members you CANNOT watch this vod" Some members who stream often are: Arceoptryx (me) Bettyisbaffled Chipseclipse QueenofAces Jay marshmarrows Many of us who don't stream, make art, write stories, webweaves, etc based on the server which you can find through the #divorcesteal tag :3 also a collection of screenshots, we have some really cool builds on the server. and also lava casts and horrible monstrosities.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello everyone!! This is the first lesson of the long awaited unofficial season 4 of Obey me Nightbringer written by yours truly <3

I will post lessons every 10 days.

I hope you enjoy it (it came out a little long but I hope it's not a problem)

Please make sure this finds other obey me lovers and people who don't want the series to end.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

@arie2faced wanted to be tagged so there you go!

Lesson 61: “Echoes of Change”

Preparations for the Grand Gala

The story begins with you and the brothers preparing for a grand event in the Devildom—the Infernal Gala, a highly anticipated celebration hosted by Diavolo to showcase unity and strength among the three realms. The brothers are busy with their individual tasks, and you help them throughout the day, making sure none of them are slacking off and checking the quality of their work.

Morning with Mammon

You find Mammon frantically trying to pick an outfit in his room, clothes scattered everywhere. He groans as he holds up a jacket, glaring at it like it personally offended him.

Mammon: “This stupid thing doesn’t fit right! What if I don’t look good enough? Diavolo’ll never let me hear the end of it!”

You: “You’re overthinking it, Mammon. You look great in anything.”

You pick up a sleek black jacket with gold trim from the pile and hold it up to him.

You: “Here, try this one. It suits you.”

Mammon grumbles but puts it on. When he turns to the mirror, his expression softens.

Mammon: “Huh. Guess it ain’t too bad… But y’know, it’s only ‘cause you picked it. You’ve got good taste.”

He pauses, scratching the back of his neck as he glances at you.

Mammon: “I dunno what I’d do without ya. Don’t tell the others, but… you’re my good luck charm, so stick close, alright?”

Afternoon with Leviathan

Levi is in his room, staring nervously at a stack of invitation cards. You peek in and see him pacing.

You: “Levi, what’s wrong?”

Leviathan: “It’s the Gala! There’s gonna be so many people there. What if I mess up? What if someone tries to talk to me and I freeze up?!”

You gently take his hands, grounding him.

You: “You’ll do great, Levi. And I’ll be there if you need me. We’re a team, remember?”

Levi calms down a little, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

Leviathan: “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, with you around, I don’t have to worry as much. You’re like my Player Two in this crazy multiplayer game called life.”

He hesitates, then smiles shyly.

Leviathan: “Thanks. I mean it. You’re, like… my favorite rare find.”

Library with Satan

Satan is in the library, scanning a shelf filled with ancient tomes. He looks up when you enter, a small smile playing on his lips.

Satan: “Perfect timing. I was looking for this.”

He hands you a book bound in emerald green, the title in golden script: "The Legends of the Infernal Gala."

Satan: “I thought you might like to know more about the Gala’s history. It’s fascinating, really—did you know it started as a peace treaty celebration?”

You sit together, flipping through the pages. At one point, your fingers brush, and Satan pauses.

Satan: “You always surprise me. You’re curious, thoughtful, and unafraid to stand by us—even when things get complicated.”

He leans closer, his voice softer.

Satan: “I hope you know how much that means to me."

Dressing Room with Asmodeus

Asmo is in his room, surrounded by a dizzying array of outfits. He twirls in front of the mirror, striking a pose.

Asmodeus: “Tell me, which one screams ‘absolutely irresistible’? This one, or…”

He switches to another outfit, beaming at you.

You: “They’re both amazing, Asmo. You always look stunning.”

Asmodeus: (grinning) “Oh, you always know just what to say. But you know what? I think I’ll wear something that complements you. After all, we’ll be the center of attention together.”

He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Asmodeus: “You have this way of making me feel… special. Like I don’t need to try so hard, because I’m enough just as I am. Thank you for that."

Kitchen with Beelzebub

Beel is in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the event. You help him arrange platters of food, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air.

Beelzebub: “Thanks for helping. I usually just eat everything, but it feels nice to make something for others.”

As you finish, Beel offers you a piece of chocolate from the tray, his expression soft.

Beelzebub: “You’re always looking out for us. It makes me want to do the same for you.”

He smiles, his usual straightforward honesty shining through.

Beelzebub: “You’re like family to me… but also more than that. I’m glad you’re here.”

Attic with Belphegor

Belphie is lying on a pile of blankets in the attic, staring at the ceiling. You join him, and he shifts to make room.

Belphegor: “The Gala’s gonna be exhausting. Too many people, too much noise. But at least you’ll be there.”

He closes his eyes, his voice soft.

Belphegor: “You’re the only one who makes all this bearable, you know. Stay with me a while. Just you and me, away from everything else.”

You rest beside him, and for a moment, the world feels quiet.

Study with Lucifer

Lucifer is in his study, reviewing event schedules and security measures. He looks up as you enter, his expression softening.

Lucifer: “Ah, I was just going over the final details. It’s a relief to see you—you have a calming effect, even on someone like me.”

You share a quiet moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the silence. Lucifer pours you a glass of Demonus, his movements elegant.

Lucifer: “The Infernal Gala represents unity, strength, and peace. But for me… it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come.”

He gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth.

Lucifer: “You’ve been a part of that journey. More than you realize.”

The calm shatteres

The next morning, you are in the gardens of the House of Lamentation, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sky is a deep, rich purple, with faint stars twinkling above. Beelzebub joins you, carrying a tray of snacks.

Beelzebub: “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”

You: (smiling softly) “Not really. Just thinking about how calm everything feels right now. It’s… nice.”

Beelzebub: (sitting beside you) “Yeah. Feels like it’s been a while since things were this peaceful. Lucifer hasn’t yelled at anyone today, and Mammon hasn’t set anything on fire… yet.”

You both share a laugh, but before the moment can last, a faint tremor shakes the ground. Beel jumps to his feet.

Beelzebub: “What was that?”

A ripple of energy passes through the garden, and several flowers wilt instantly. The air feels charged, heavy. You feel a faint pulse from your pact mark, though you don’t fully understand it yet.

You and Beel rush inside the House of Lamentation, where chaos has already begun. Furniture is floating, magical items are malfunctioning, and the brothers are in disarray.

Mammon: (running around) “Somebody fix this! My wallet turned into a bat and flew off! That’s my life savings in there!”

Leviathan: (clutching his D.D.D.) “Do you know how many hours of gameplay I just lost?! This is worse than the Great Reset of Akuzon Prime!”

Lucifer: (trying to remain composed) “Everyone, calm down. Panicking will accomplish nothing.”

Belphegor: (yawning) “Wake me when this is over. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”

You notice your pact mark faintly glowing whenever the chaos intensifies. Asmodeus steps in, looking alarmed.

Asmodeus: “Is it just me, or does the energy in the house feel… weird? It’s like something’s out of sync.”

Before anyone can respond, the chandelier shatters with a loud crash. Lucifer’s patience snaps.

Lucifer: “Enough! Everyone, to the Demon Lord’s Castle—now. Diavolo needs to hear about this immediately.”

Emergency Meeting with Diavolo

The group arrives at the Demon Lord’s Castle. Diavolo greets you all with a worried expression, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a more serious air. Barbatos stands quietly by his side, his gaze sharp and observant.

Diavolo: “Ah, you’ve arrived. I trust you’ve noticed the disturbances, then?”

Lucifer: “Noticed is an understatement. The House of Lamentation is in complete disarray. What’s causing this?”

Diavolo’s expression tightens, and he motions for you all to take a seat.

Diavolo: “It’s more than just your house, Lucifer. The magical ley lines that run through the Devildom are experiencing unusual fluctuations. Spells are failing, spells are overloading… and the environment itself is becoming unstable.”

Diavolo remains silent for a short while before speaking again.

Diavolo: "Remember when a few months ago the Devildom moon begun moving closer to us? And how MC stopped it with the help of (name of the brother you chose in lesson 60)? I think it might be somehow related to all this.

Barbatos: (nodding gravely) “We’ve been monitoring the situation for the past few weeks, but the source remains elusive. The ley lines should remain stable, but we are seeing powerful surges in energy that we cannot explain.”

Simeon: (calmly interjecting) “It’s a troubling situation, indeed. I’ve been sensing something off as well, but I can’t make sense of it.”

Solomon: (looking up from his scrolls) “The balance between the realms is delicate. It’s entirely possible this disturbance has something to do with the convergence of magical energies—perhaps even beyond our realm’s control.”

Luke: (clutching his little angel staff nervously) “So... we’re all in danger?”

Mephistopheles: (snickering from the corner) “Well, that depends on what you call ‘danger.’ There’s always a way to spin these things to our favor, you know.”

Raphael: (stoically) “We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. If there’s a threat, we’ll need to handle it swiftly, for the sake of everyone’s safety.”

Thirteen: (suddenly appearing with a slight chuckle) “It’s always so serious when you guys talk like this. How about we enjoy the chaos a little bit?”

The group’s attention is drawn back to Diavolo, who remains focused despite the tension.

Diavolo: “We’ve heard your concerns. But I must ask, how does this all relate to the Infernal Gala? If these disturbances continue, it could be catastrophic.”

Lucifer: “The Gala is already under heavy scrutiny. If the realm’s stability is at risk, Diavolo, this could be a catastrophic blow to the reputation of the Devildom.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, I can’t imagine the disaster. The Gala’s atmosphere would be ruined if the magical energies continue to fluctuate like this. People will notice, and chaos would break out if they suspect anything is wrong.”

Beelzebub: (his voice low and serious) “If things continue like this, there’s a real danger of even the food and drinks being affected. Imagine the mess if everything starts malfunctioning at the event.”

Lucifer: “Exactly. And with all the high-profile guests we’re expecting… We must act swiftly.”

Diavolo stands up, his usual warmth replaced by a rare intensity.

Diavolo: “For now, I ask all of you to stay vigilant. If you notice anything unusual—anything at all—report it immediately. The Gala must go off without a hitch, for the sake of maintaining peace and stability. But we must also prepare for the possibility that something more sinister is at play.”

Barbatos: (calmly) “We will continue investigating, but please, if you feel anything strange—if there’s any oddity you experience—don’t hesitate to tell us. The more information we have, the better.”

Lucifer: (looking directly at you) “You, especially. I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. These disturbances seem… connected to you.”

The room falls silent again as all eyes shift toward you. You feel a weight settling on your shoulders, the pressure building.

Diavolo: (smiling reassuringly) “You’ve done well so far. But now, we must prepare for whatever comes next. The Gala is crucial, but our first priority must be understanding the root cause of these events. If there’s a connection between you and this instability… we’ll need to address it quickly.”

As you nod in response, a sense of foreboding fills the air. The once-bustling preparations for the Gala seem like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the disruptions.

A talk with Solomon

After the emergency meeting, you wander through the halls of the House of Lamentation, the weight of the situation pressing on you. The magical disturbances, the instability in the Devildom... you feel like you're on the edge of something bigger, but you can't quite grasp it.

A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

Solomon: "You're still awake, huh? I figured you might be here."

You turn and see Solomon leaning against the doorframe, his usual playful expression replaced by one of concern. He steps into the hallway, his gaze never leaving you.

You: “I don’t understand any of this… It feels like everything’s connected, but I don’t know how or why.”

Solomon walks up to you, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He looks at you with a knowing look, as though he’s been waiting for this conversation.

Solomon: “I can see why you’re confused. The fluctuations... the disruptions in the ley lines, they’re not random. They’re a result of your presence here.”

You: (frowning) “My presence?”

Solomon: (nodding) “It’s complicated. There’s something about your connection to the brothers, your dual pacts, that’s causing the instability. It’s as if the power between you and them is... too much for the realms to handle.”

You feel a jolt of realization. The dual pacts. You hadn’t thought about the significance of them, but it makes sense now. Solomon's words seem to echo in your mind, each one a small revelation.

You: “So... you think the dual pacts are the reason this is happening?”

Solomon hesitates for a moment, then nods, his eyes serious.

Solomon: “I’m beginning to suspect that’s the case. The way your power interacts with theirs... it’s creating more energy than the ley lines can accommodate. It’s like a pressure building up, and when too much energy is focused in one place, the balance of the realms starts to break down.”

You swallow, trying to process it all. Your mind races through everything you’ve experienced—the strange pull of the pact mark, the disruptions, the growing tension. It all leads back to the pacts.

You: “But why now? Why is this only happening now?”

Solomon: (with a sigh) “It didn't start now. Actually it's been going on for a while now. Remember how the moon was getting progressively closer and closer a few months ago? I suspect that's also due to your magic. But for all I know the dual pacts were never meant to be this powerful. They’re an anomaly.”

You: “So, everything that’s happening... it’s my fault?”

Solomon: (softly) “Not your fault. But your presence, your bond with the brothers—it’s a key factor. I should’ve been more cautious. I knew the pacts were risky, but I didn’t expect something like this would happen.”

You feel your heart race as you try to understand the magnitude of what Solomon is telling you. The chaos, the disruptions... you feel like you’re at the center of it all, and it’s terrifying.

You: “How do we fix this?”

Solomon takes a step closer, his gaze softening. His hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you feel a comforting warmth from his touch.

Solomon: “We’ll figure it out. Together. The brothers... they’re linked to this too, and we’ll need their help. But we can’t do it alone. The dual pacts are too unpredictable.”

For a moment, you both stand in silence, the weight of his words settling in. The chaos, the stakes... it feels like everything is changing too fast. Yet, with Solomon’s presence, there’s a sense of calm. You find comfort in his understanding.

You: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Solomon smiles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter, though he doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close, offering a silent promise.

Solomon: “You’ll never have to find out.”

You lean into his chest, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, and for the briefest moment, the world outside feels a little more bearable.

Solomon: “We’ll fix this. We’ll make sure the Gala goes off without a hitch, and we’ll find the cause of all this. But until then... just know that I’m here.”

You look up at him, your voice quiet but firm.

You: “Thank you, Solomon. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’m... not alone in this anymore.”

Solomon’s smile deepens, and he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

Solomon: “You’re never alone, MC. Not with me by your side.”

The Pact’s Secret Emerges

Later that evening, while the brothers are asleep, you are drawn to the library by an inexplicable force. You find an old book glowing faintly on the shelf and open it. The pages are filled with ancient symbols you can’t understand. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupts you.

Barbatos: (appearing silently behind you) “Curious, isn’t it? That book is one of the oldest records in the castle. It documents the nature of pacts and their potential… consequences.”

You jump in surprise, quickly closing the book.

You: “Barbatos! You scared me. I didn’t mean to—”

Barbatos: (smiling slightly) “You needn’t apologize. It’s no coincidence that you were drawn to this book.”

Barbatos steps closer, his gaze calm but piercing.

Barbatos: “Tell me, since your return from the past, have you noticed anything… unusual? A change in your magic, perhaps? Or a resonance with the brothers’ powers?”

You stiffen.

You: “What do you mean by ‘return from the past’? How do you know about that?”

Barbatos: (tilting his head slightly) “I am the steward of time. There are few events that escape my notice.”

Your eyes widen. You clutch the book tightly, unsure of how to respond.

You: “I… I haven’t told anyone except Solomon. How much do you know?”

Barbatos: “Enough to understand that your journey was no mere coincidence. It was necessary, though its ripple effects are only now beginning to manifest.”

You: “Ripple effects…? Are you saying all of this—the disturbances in the Devildom—are my fault?”

Barbatos: (softly) “Fault is a strong word. Responsibility, perhaps. But do not misunderstand—your presence here is essential. You hold the key to stabilizing the realm.”

Barbatos’ gaze sharpens as he steps closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper.

Barbatos: “However, I must warn you: secrets have a way of surfacing when the time is right. The truth will not remain hidden forever—not from the brothers, nor from yourself.”

He gestures toward the glowing book.

Barbatos: “Keep this between us for now. But be vigilant. The bonds you share with the brothers are deeper and more intricate than even you realize.”

After the encounter, Barbatos is in his room, standing over a magical map of the Devildom. Glowing lines represent the ley lines, which are flickering and unstable. He traces his fingers over the map, frowning as he notices a disturbing pattern.

Barbatos: (to himself) “The fluctuations are growing stronger, converging toward a single point. If this trajectory continues…”

He pauses, his expression darkening.

Barbatos: “…even the combined power of the brothers may not be enough to stop what’s coming.”

The map reveals the convergence point glowing ominously—a location deep within the Devildom that remains unidentified.

[gossippool]

firstly, let's address your tags and the things you've said in your reply.

i've already talked about this--and the issue of drawing style--in my other reblogs. also, "there's the twink behaviour (because twink is a behavioural stereotype, too)" i'm sorry but did you miss my point completely? yes it is a behavioural stereotype. that is what i'm saying. it's the fact that the original and only definition for twink is purely about physical characteristics, but by association of feminine mannerisms to some heteronormative stereotype of women having slender figures, effeminate behaviour has become synonymous with the word "twink". and also the heteronormative stereotype of a more feminine person having to be with a more masculine man. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M CALLING OUT. because it is a harmful assumption to make. because it's reductive and homophobic and misogynistic. half of what you're even saying--he's drawn more muscular next to slimmer characters in team ups, and smaller when he's "submissive"--that is all part of this point i'm making.

the point is that there shouldn't be this type of division. and like i said in another reblog, official art is not immune to this, so they should not be the foundation on which we work off of. why do artists draw characters smaller when they're in a, as you say, submissive role? or when they're paired up with more traditionally masculine characters???? i feel like i'm repeating myself here

and you bringing up power is exactly what i mean by implicit bias. the fact that you associate being a "twink" with being weaker and being attracted to people who are more powerful, especially in these scenarios where actual superpowers come into play and so can't be equated to each other?? shiklah is an Actual Monster btw, she could kill a million muscular men in a second. so i don't know what argument you're trying to make here.

secondly, i said in my original tags that if you can find me a comic that draws wade consistently twinkish throughout even ONE issue i would rescind my statement. and since you kindly gave me examples, let's do this one at a time.

1. the decoy (2010), which is a single issue comic. this is how he looks in the rest of the comic:

2. deadpool (2012), the good, the bad and the ugly run. the artist is declan shalvey. here are panels from the same issue:

3. cable & deadpool (2004) #34. the penciller is reilly brown. here are panels from this issue, from the same page even.

4. the rollerblading panel is from deadpool (2008) by daniel way, famously the worst deadpool run in existence with terrible writing. this is from issue 15, penciller paco medina. here are panels from this exact issue:

so yeah i don't want to argue about this anymore because i feel like my point has been misconstrued. kay and i did elaborate on all this in the reblogs where i covered pretty much all the points i mentioned here

no one's gonna stop you from making wade a twink but just know that it has never been canon ever, and also maybe think about why you want him to be a twink so bad. is it just because he acts more effeminate and so you think he should have the stereotypical body to match? are there implicit biases and assumptions forced on your labelling of people as twinks? is it just because you want him to be more personally appealing to you? <3

[fiercynn]

yes i'm talking about otw/ao3's finances again, sorry not sorry

the director of the nonprofit i work for in the u.s. just announced that we have $1 million usd in our reserves at the start of 2025, and that that is a big amount for us to have. we have 35+ full-time employees and several contractors, all of whom are paid good salaries, and we have numerous other operating expenses, including but not limited to running a website, advertising, employee travel, conference registrations, and paying legal costs (we're an advocacy org and often get involved in litigation).

and all i could think about was how the last time i checked the finances of the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks), which runs ao3, they had almost three times that amount - $2.8 million usd - in their reserves, and zero paid employees, contractors or otherwise. Z E R O.

but that's just normal nonprofit math, right?

and to be clear when i say reserves, i mean money that is not allocated for any specific purpose in the yearly budget. this is just the extra. my org invests that extra so that we can generate additional revenue from it; the last time i checked, otw had only put $10,000 thousand usd of it in an interest-bearing account, which meant they were only earning about $150/year in interest on it. no, i didn't miss any zeroes there. only $150 interest on TWO POINT EIGHT MILLION DOLLARS

anyway i am not going to go check the more recent numbers because any time i try to put any effort into this kind of research, like @manogirl and i did in 2023 and i updated in early 2024, we get so much shit that it hardly feels worth it. but anyone is welcome to follow the process outlined in our previous posts to find the latest numbers yourself. and if you do please tag me! i'm happy to share

but bottom line: remember this when the next otw/ao3 fundraising drive comes around! they don't need your money, and they don't even know how to manage it properly when they get it

(oh, and for anyone who's been following along, no, i still have not received a reply from the otw finance team in response to the one-line question i asked them about their reserves in may 2023. 🙃)

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 24

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I'm going ham depicting all the OCs this time around so here's everyone's favorite phone obsessed peep, Eugene! Obviously they were captured at their most flattering by the magnanimous @grumpytheunicorn

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

NOTE: So my secular ass that was raised without religion genuinely had no idea that godparents was a religious concept. I curse the christian-centric values bred into the American zeitgeist. Like obviously, it has the word 'god' in it, but no one said this dork had a high IQ (I very much don't). I was genuinely inspired to even do a godparent story line because of the movie Life as We Know It (2010). My deepest apologies if this misstep alienated anyone. Please know that it does not come from a place of faith and instead is meant only in the non-religious terms which is a guardian who takes custody of a child should anything happen to a child's parents.

First 💜 Previous

You wanted to say you marched into the arena. In a tight, single file formation, double doors were shoved open in front of you. The leaders of your group paved the way for the opposing team’s imminent loss. Another set of doors were breached and the suction seal of sound was broken. Fanfare erupted as the first challengers were seen. Flickering lights danced around mimicking paparazzi and within a few steps, you too had entered the building. Your husband was the heavy on the end, the last force to back up your intrepid part and from the front, your general spoke.

“I am here…” Eugene threw a thumb at their person over the host stand. “… for the 100 wing death challenge.”

“Party for Eugene.” The woman double checked her notes before chirping through the illusions of grandeur. “Right this way!”

You were now simply a group of friends who had walked into a sports bar and were led to a table that accommodated your numbers. While you had been incubating a baby, your friends’ lives had continued. Eugene had picked up an interest in eating competitions after binge watching some competitive eating show. They had scoured New York City for a reasonable enough challenge and relied on their spiced upbringing to win them a particular gold. This bar had recently opened and no one had been able to achieve the goal as of yet, so Eugene marked themself down to be the first. This gave them precedent and they took a seat at the head of the table to face their cheer squad.

Kaleb was fast tracking for a promotion and hadn’t had much time for antics. He was a little all work and no play, though you bet everyone at his job still considered him the quintessential jolly man. You heard he had been driving out of the city for some curry place as his only extracurricular as of late and he manned the second seat to the head of the table.

Coral sat immediately across from him with her usual poise. If this were any other event, she might have been the one executing, but she had deferred along with her taming. Exercise had fallen off of her interest list and mimosa flights had moved in. Bubbly was her means of celebration as she and Nelson had been dating for almost three whole months.

You headed for the seat next to hers since said man was on a work trip. Besides a label, very little had changed in their dynamic. Both Coral and Nelson would have been here to cheer Eugene on, had he been available. He was probably texting the group chat asking for updates and you meant to check, but you struggled to fit into the slot she had tucked into. She had chosen a route along a wall and your little one was feeling especially not so little in your 28th week.

“Shit.” Coral noticed and clicked her tongue. “Sink, switch!”

“No way!” Kaleb slapped his belly. “You think I’m squeezing my ass in there? Bring that baby to the open side.”

He gestured to the seat next to his and how his row had space as it butted up to walkway.

“I want to sit next to Y/N!” Coral broiled.

Donnie paused at the end of the table to select whatever was leftover.

“Okay.” You caught a chair and put some weight onto it. “I can fit, I just need a second…”

Kaleb looked right at Donnie. “Colonel, let’s just move the table.”

“I can fit!” You snapped.

Donnie stayed especially still.

Kaleb blinked.

Eugene grinned pre-gamed shit.

Coral’s frown lined her cheeks.

You took a single breath to keep the next line out of your mouth at bay. You sympathized heavily with a particular woman who had just wanted ice cream. Now far removed from easily concealed bump days, your supposed helplessness was on the rise. There was always someone trying to make way or, worse yet, trying to touch you, and your mate often picked up the slack. An irrational part of your brain said your friends should know all this, but you had been just about as scarce as they were in life updates.

You were glad when Eugene had asked you to come.

They had made sure to ask specifically you.

They said they wanted you there.

They said they wanted to catch up while they suffered.

A gauntlet, they had joked, referring to yet another program.

It meant something.

It all meant something.

Coral’s care.

Kaleb’s assumption.

Donnie’s patience.

It was all equally irritating.

Your feet ached.

Your lower back was incessantly sore.

Your calves would throb from this short pause.

You were in a never ending battle between sitting down and your bladder.

You breathed in and out again before you tried to meaningfully look over your options. Kaleb’s mind for engineering argued his course was best and it would be nice to be able to easily get in and out of your seat when you inevitably had to hit the restroom next.

“Move the table.” You admitted trying not to be too sad about it.

The hoist took less than a few seconds and no one made further notes.

Donnie eventually sat across from you and beside Kaleb. Waters were passed out and other, more paltry orders were taken. Eugene’s serious air kept the table from falling into much catch up and eventually a team of employees approached the table.

“Welcome!” The first spoke as the hostess from the front. “I have a whole spiel, are you ready?”

“Born ready.” Eugene looked up with a fiery gazed they hoped matched the wings.

“Alright.” The woman bowed slightly. “Welcome to The Vertigo Venue, home of the 100 wing death challenge, where you won’t leave without your head spinning. As the reaper implies, you need to finish 100 of the world’s hottest wings in under 45 minutes. They will be brought to you in groups of 10 with the last 5 beings made with some of the hottest peppers in the world. Do you think you can stand up to the heat or will you be running from our kitchen?”

A man beside her who looked like he had come from the cook staff nodded appropriately.

“I’m here to win.” Eugene stared straight on.

“We’ll see. We’ll need you to sign a standard liability waiver.” The perky woman took an offered piece of paper from the third member of their trio and passed it along with a pen.

Kaleb and Donnie both tried to eye it as Eugene signed it without reading.

“Perfect. The rest of your food will be out soon. Our server, Monica, here will monitor you. You’re not allowed to drink water, use dip, or get into anything else that might cleanse your palate between wing sets. Still sound good?”

“Let’s get it going!” Eugene hollered.

The rest of the table minus Donnie cheered alongside.

The two others bowed out and Monica took the far seat opposite Eugene.

“Monica.” Kaleb immediately leaned forward to see her. “Scare the pants off Eugene. Tell us all about the losers.”

Monica jumped a little. “Uh… I only just started last week…”

“Aw!” Kaleb sank back in his chair.

“Pathetic.” Eugene sneered.

“Though… I heard the first guy who tried it fainted and was taken away in an ambulance…” Monica continued on.

Eugene hiccupped.

“The second and third didn’t make it past 50 and the last one…” Monica thought hard. “I think I heard they threw up or burned their sinuses or something. That also might have been a lie for the newbie…”

The rest of the table was now staring at her.

“I mean think about it!” She squeaked.

“Can I get a copy of that waiver?” Coral oozed malevolence. “I want to hang it over Eugene’s hospital bed.”

“Shut up!” Eugene swatted at her.

Conversation opened up and broke apart. From the table to smaller parties, you chatted with Coral about how she thought the celery and carrots were a waste of time. Eugene went on to speak about their utility which went on until Monica stood. It was a signal and you all quieted as a server came around your table. Food was dispersed to everyone else in a way that made Eugene stand out.

They were center stage when that cook from earlier walked out to personally deliver the first ten hot wings.

He spoke of some insane number of Scoville units, which measured the spice.

Eugene seemed unimpressed and the man departed.

Monica pulled a digital clock out from somewhere and readied it. “I’ll start it when you take your first bite.”

Eugene nodded once.

Kaleb was already through a few of his own wings as he watched.

Everyone else waited.

Eugene picked up a flat and leveled their gaze at Monica.

She found some courage and returned it with a hand over the button.

A few wild west seconds ticked by before they took a bite and she pressed the clock.

“Oh!” Eugene immediately perked up. “That’s pretty good.”

They ate at a steady pace with a relatively impressed expression.

“What’s the math on that?” Kaleb tipped his head to Donnie.

“For 45 minutes, 2.2 wings a minute.” Donnie answered, having yet to eat anything.

“The point two wings part is the real challenge.” Kaleb spoke like a joking sage.

Your spouse nodded without further mention.

Kaleb examined him with a creased brow.

The cook came out with the next basket.

You sort of heard the new Scoville number, but really you smelled the spice.

You salivated.

Your own wings were something basic.

Your gastrointestinal system had been particularly active.

It didn’t help that your child was kicking.

Dr. Kuro had you doing what she called a ‘kick count.’ While she admitted the egg shell made it a bit odd, she cautioned that the larger the baby grew, the more active they would become. You figured they got Donnie’s smarts because soon after that they seemed to realize they could get a reaction out of you only if they kicked the malleable placenta. You would find yourself struck at odd hours and heaving when your organs were attacked.

Counting out your abuse was a given.

Donnie, who apparently could hear the movement, was always nearby for a hand to squeeze. You guessed you considered that a forewarning of birth, though that was still a tossup. Dr. Kuro said she was waiting to see something specific before she made a final determination on whether you’d be up for natural birth or not. You quaked at the thought of passing the plastron, but your doctor seemed confident it was soft enough. You found that hard to believe when she seemed to only be able to tell that by sonogram, but you had no choice but to defer to her centuries of knowledge.

If the knocks to your insides weren’t bad enough, your heartburn picked up the slack.

You had never particularly noticed any cravings. If anything you developed aversions, but they always seemed to make sense. Eating a constant diet geared toward your health often put you in food ruts. There were only so many ways vegetables, fruits, and lean proteins could be prepared for maximum benefit and you hit those walls fast. You did your best to rotate the crops. An attempt was made so you didn’t deplete your reserves in each food group, but it had been a neverending balance act.

Acid reflux hit you hard in week 27.

Without obvious cause or culprit you were burping up boiling oil. For the first time in your pregnancy, you felt the ache of nausea. Churning guts had you reaching for antacids. You had to check which were safe when all you wanted was to stop the burn. You tried to hastily switch your diet in an attempt to offset it, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the burn.

You ate a banana one day with no problem.

The next it caught in your throat a second time after swallowing.

You moved swiftly through your meal plans and it all culminated in a little pregnancy oddity. There were tons of these as far as Dr. Kuro was concerned and she likened them to the babies themselves. She said cravings and the like were all the baby deciding what they liked best, even if there was no evidence to support it.

You were sick enough to agree, but your mate had been hung up on the lack of science.

He had researched what he could, but abandoned it with relative swiftness. Pools of data were riddled with error and emotion. He likened it to the source of his ninpo as if he hadn’t taken to his new power like a moth to a flame. After his display of grandeur in the living room, his constructs were soon things he made without second thought. You figured it was an extension of those holograms that were linked to his brain. Ninpo bypassed some microscopic lag that supposedly came from his chip and had far greater application.

With a touch, he had a mug warmer keeping your tea the right temperature while you agonized over getting the minty aid down. With a tip of his head, a prop would appear if you needed to rest. He had even whipped up a neck pillow, though it was unusable. Tests found that while he understood organic compounds, he couldn’t recreate them with his power. The polyester he tried to manifest had been itchy and coarse. Though he was annoyed he couldn’t help you, knowing that mysticism had its limits seemed to soothe your mate.

They were caps on the intangible and he saw the rules as physical concepts. For moving mass, they were the calculations for friction and he loved parameters. He moved within them and wove throughout. You saw him create new battle shell prototypes in blinks just so he could see the components. He would turn the manifestations with flourishes and burst them into pieced blueprints so he could walk amongst the parts.

If you hadn’t been so sick as of late, you could have seen him revel more.

As it was, those glimpses had been few and far between. You wanted to encourage him because you loved to watch, but as of now Donnie barely spared time to practice. He only seemed to work with his ninpo to make sure his handle on it was a safe one. You and your child were his greater focus. He cared little for some great power as he deemed it unnecessary with the current state of his life. He had other things he wanted to do and, even if his ninpo could have helped, his plans were to do things with his own two hands, so he did.

The lumber for the crib had arrived a few days ago.

He was still reworking the perfect blueprint.

Tending to your tender stomach had kept him from long stretches of design.

The closing in of all you needed to do further upset your stomach.

So much of the time you thought should have gone to preparing for the baby had been used to instead see what shape the baby would take. It was difficult to think about buying clothes when you weren’t sure how sharp the carapace would be. You didn’t know how to account for diapers if there was a tail or not. Bottle types were a stalwart until one considered if formula was even necessary.

As far as you noticed, you hadn’t even produced milk or whatever precursor concoction it was called.

It was head-spinning.

You were already neglecting your friends as it were. Falling behind in regards to your kid which was the one thing you were supposedly putting all your energy toward felt like the ultimate failing. The thoughts might have consumed you had you not heard but opposition.

From Dr. Kuro, who had immediately picked up on the faintest hint of your anxiety, to Donnie, who was the king of over-preparations, neither party allowed for your doubts. Contingencies were always possible, but, as most of these things went, it didn’t matter how prepared or unprepared you were; a baby was coming. You would be ready because you had to be. Whatever you needed would be acquired and, if it had to be something different, then you would get that instead. Without the economic bars, that should have been settled for you, but the admonishment for thinking with such privilege in the first place came as a countercurrent.

It felt like a resurgence of the inadequacies you had long overcome. Years had gone by since you berated yourself in that way and the feelings had crept in to poison your heart and mind before you knew it. You decided that they were the leak of acid upsetting your stomach to absolve you and your baby of blame. It was the bad thoughts making you sick and not any infantile kicks. A change of mindset wasn’t something that happened immediately, but you had seen a turn as soon as you started to dismantle that train of thought.

Except now you were heavily debating on sucking the clean bones Eugene left behind.

Two more baskets had cycled through in that time and people were talking. Coral had left you behind to debate something with Kaleb that seemed to relate to Eugene. Said person sat at the center of a storm and seemed to be faring well. There was the faintest flush to their cheeks, but they continued eating at an even pace.

The smell of spice was in the air and tucking back into your nostrils. Waves of it wafting into a manifesting cloud that beckoned you forward. You moved by your nose alone as you leaned against the table. Your baby held onto the metaphorical edge to peak themselves at the treat unknown to them because you wanted one of those wings.

A level four spice couldn’t have been that bad.

You were turning toward Monica before you realized it. “When does the waiver kick in?”

Monica was schooled enough that she didn’t look away from Eugene. “It’s for overall consumption and the last fifteen.”

“Are the other sauces…” You glanced at one of the discarded baskets that had yet to be picked up and felt that drive hit you. “… on the menu normally?”

“Y/N…?” Coral caught wind of what you were doing.

 “Huh?” You couldn’t pull your gaze away.

“You gonna do the challenge? You think eating for two gives you an edge?”

“What? No.” You finally blinked away.

“You’re eye fucking the bones.” Coral’s smile quirked.

“I don’t-!” You shook your head.

“Craving!” Eugene gulped out a fiery breath. “Mom did that with me! I was a spice baby!”

“You are good with spice.” Kaleb was inclined to agree.

“How’d that work out?” You felt a little guilty asking since it took Eugene’s attention away.

Eugene thought while they chewed.

You could feel Donnie eyeing you.

“Ever had heartburn so bad you couldn’t move?” Eugene finally animated and pointed a set of bones at you.

You sort of wanted to lean forward and bite the sinew on the joint.

“Haven’t you been dying with heartburn already?” Coral leaned suspiciously into your person.

“What’s another?” You found yourself saying.

Eugene laughed right into a choke.

Kaleb and Monica both shot to attention.

“Spice! Throat!” Eugene coughed out. “M’okay!”

Coral whacked their back and was cursed out for it.

Another set of wings for level five arrived.

You watched with a dropped jaw as your coveted bones were removed.

The new set scorched your nostrils from two seats away and your baby kicked with demands.

“C-can I-?!” You tried to call out to the cook, but his back turned and he was gone.

Donnie fluidly stood from his seat and chased him down.

“Ah…” You sounded your displeasure.

“There’s something!” Eugene took his first bite of wing 50. “Thought they were going easy on me!”

Coral glanced at the clock. “Might do it… Huh!”

“Non-believer!” Eugene shared spittle.

“I’m siding with the winning team.” Kaleb cheered.

“Fair-weather fan!” Coral cursed.

Donnie returned.

“You know what a fair-weather fan is, Dee?” Kaleb went to share the joke.

You sort of saw your husband shake his head, but you were staring at some napkins.

An insane part of you wanted to snort their red blotches.

Not only was that patently gross, it also would have been bad for your skin.

Craving or not, the thought of hot sauce swallowed your rationale.

You wanted it.

Your own food was completely unappetizing.

You only wanted something of that spice caliber.

Nothing else would suffice.

Heat.

Tongue burning.

Gasping for water.

You wanted to choke on it.

It would be all you could taste.

You sucked back up literal drool to wash your mouth out.

“Excuse me.” There was a tap to your shoulder.

You jumped as far as your belly allowed.

Everyone paused at your yelp.

You turned to find a server equally shocked, but still holding onto a small basket of 6 wings. “I-I’m so sorry. Are you alright? You couldn’t hear me, I just thought-!”

You meant to apologize.

Take blame.

Anything.

Except right at eye level was oozing lines of heat.

You could see the steam warping the air.

It came with a scent.

That spice that had been dropping down Eugene’s gullet at a dangerous pace.

The server was still talking and you only looked up at them. “Those are mine?”

“U-Uh! Y-yes!” They offered you the basket.

You smacked the untouched set you had ordered before away.

You heard Coral clear her throat from behind her hand.

You felt Eugene stare.

You didn’t care.

You yanked the wings down and let the smell wash over you.

Your eyes watered.

“Uh…” Kaleb drawled out concern.

“Shh!” Coral hissed.

You selected your first wing and everything else fell away.

There was clearly more than one flavor in the basket, but you didn’t care. Whatever wing was closest was your first choice. If you had been a better friend, you might have paid attention to spice level explanation. You were sure you had an excuse.

Tender flesh reached your lips and you tore into it indelicately. 

A moan escaped you.

The lapping heat licked your tongue right back.

You took another bite.

You skirted bone.

The sauce scorched your lips.

It felt divine.

Hellfire washed you clean from inside out.

Each bite siphoned more of that spit down your throat. It burned your esophagus and went further down. Through winding tubes and whatever transformed that mash into something your baby could use. It sucked up the residuals in a form palatable for their development and satisfied that kick count for whatever high reaches it met today.

The basket was empty before your eyes rolled back from their journey to find your brain.

You must have put on quite the display from the state of your tablemates.

Coral was visibly shaking from withheld laughter. The only part of her facing you was her phone and it was clearly taking video. Eugene had fully stopped their challenge to outright gape with a full mouth. You skirted the wad to find Kaleb wearing a frown that was levied by how high his brows were. Even your mate, who had surely seen you at your absolute worst, was staring with uncharacteristically wide eyes per his public persona.

You meant to excuse yourself, but a small burp came out.

It was a feather light topping that offset the scales.

Everyone laughed.

Even Monica, who you had almost forgotten was privy to the party.

“A t-true g-glowing vi-vision!” Coral cackled as her phone shook.

“Give me a break!” You tried to take it.

She snatched it away. “Gross hands! No!”

“I’m not a dog!”

“Don’t eat like one then!”

You went to touch her shirt.

She shrieked.

“The time!” Kaleb suddenly shouted.

Eugene squeaked and dove back into his basket.

“18 minutes left.” Donnie remarked.

“What’re they at?” Kaleb turned back and forth.

“67.” Monica spoke, ready.

“Is that-!?” Kaleb continued to whip back and forth.

“Ahead of schedule.” Donnie said. 

“Oh! Fweh!” Kaleb sank into his chair, dropping all concern. “False alarm.”

With a full mouth, Eugene grunted out unintelligible complaints.

Your mouth was on fire.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, but breathing was becoming a bit of a curse. 

Each bout of life-sustaining oxygen fanned the embers on your tongue.

It hurt, but you loved the burn.

You thought about asking for another basket.

“Ugh.”

You could barely register what was happening before a napkin smashed into your mouth.

It was your turn to grunt into it.

“You’re drooling!” Coral wiped your chin.

“What the fuck!? I’m not a baby!?”

“Stop acting like one then!”

“Is this some ploy for godparentdom?!”

Coral buckled with guilt.

“Coral, you’re joking.”

“Ha! Ha! Yeah!” She curled away with your used napkin.

“It’s wasn’t a thing!”

“You put me with the hippo!!” She snapped.

“A mutant!” You swatted at her.

This time you made contact.

“This is not me being prejudiced! Don’t you hold that against me!”

“I am and I told you: it wasn’t that serious! Yes, we want godparents, but it was a spur of the moment decision! Mikey asked and I said the first people that came to mind!” 

“You don’t just pick based on feeling! I want you to pick me because it should be!”

“If you think it should be you, why are you mad?!” 

“I want to earn it!” 

“That doesn’t make sense!” 

“Yes! It does! It means something!”

“I know it does! Donnie and I have been discussing it!” 

“So you already decided!?”  

“I didn’t say that!” 

“Oscar the Grouch doesn’t discuss. He debates! I know what he thinks of me! He argued against me, I know it!” 

“World revolves around you, huh!? That wasn’t even on his mind!” 

“So now I’m not even worth considering!?” 

“Coral, I swear-!!!” 

“Final five!” Kaleb whooped, seemingly unaware.

You and Coral had hands on each other, but both turned in time to see Eugene take their first bite of the spiciest wings in the challenge.

You watched in slow motion.

Their lips hit the meat.

You had to lick your own vestiges.

Eugene tore away and chewed a single time before they appeared to light up.

In something out of a cartoon, you swore you watched the heat travel straight through their face where it bled steam out their ears.

“WHAT THE FUC-!?!” Eugene snorted and the lava must have gone elsewhere because their eyes went wild.

They scoured the table.

“No water!” Monica announced.

Eugene looked up with tears running down their face.

“I m-mean-!” Monica tittered nervously. “Of course, you can, but it would violate the rules of the-!”

“No water!” Kaleb slapped a hand down to the table. “You got this!”

Eugene turned the weepiness toward their captain.

“3 minutes.” Donnie added.

Eugene swallowed and it apparently went down like glass because they wheezed.

“Eu-gene! Eu-gene!” Kaleb started up a chant and stared expectantly across the table.

You and Coral unwove from one another to pump your fists and join the encouragement.

Donnie only joined in only after Monica participated.

Eugene wobbled through their 95 wing.

They sobbed through 96.

By 97 they were dry heaving.

98 came with another choking fit.

Their hands were quaking around 99.

Splatters of the sauce shot out threateningly from the shake.

You swore you could see them burn holes in the table.

Time moved slow and fast.

Eugene was out of pace.

The clock sped by while they lagged.

“10 seconds!” Monica suddenly yelled.

All of Eugene’s speed caught up with them and they deep-throated 99.

The ensuing wretch was heard around the restaurant.

They disappeared from their seat and the only marker of where they had gone was a sauce print on the wall.

The alarm clock beeped out the final time.

Instead of looking after Eugene, everyone looked down at the one untouched wing left in their basket.

The plea bargains came immediately.

“Throwing up is a caveat!”

“Where’s choking on your waiver?!”

“You cannot hold this against them!”

“It’s one wing!!”

As Monica’s hands lifted, the hostess who had set this in motion appeared.

“I’m sorry, everyone. Rules are rules…” She spoke law.

There were grumbles shared.

Eventually Monica departed.

Kaleb eventually coaxed Donnie up to go find Eugene.

Your husband shot you a look and you nodded for him to go.

There was a moment of silence for the failure.

Coral spoke as soon as the quiet set in.

“Wanna eat it?” Coral pointed to the final wing that had been Eugene’s demise.

“You eat it.”

“You were horfing these down a minute ago.”

“Like one through six, not the waiver ones.”

“I’m surprised the restaurant left it here.”

“Isn’t it a liability for the rest of us?”

“Totally must be.”

“Godparent duties if you eat it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, don’t be godmother.”

“Fuck you.”

You laughed.

“I do not care that you’re pregnant. That’s bullshit.”

“You never care.”

“I care about this and you’re being mean about it.” 

“Yeah, I don’t really get why.” 

“You don’t.” Coral leveled with you. 

Her look took your words. 

“You don’t.” She repeated with a different inflection. 

“You make me want to apologize.” You squirmed in your seat. 

“It should be obvious.” 

“Coral-”

“Yeah. I get it. It’s not.” She sighed. “Maybe I haven’t tried to talk to you enough. After we stopped doing the pilates together…” 

“You got a boyfriend…” 

She relented a little. “It’s not like I stopped caring.” 

“Of course.” 

“I want it. I’m not huge on kids, but this’ll be your kid. I’m in your corner, always have been. They’re gonna be a little extension of you. If anything happened to you…” 

You looked her over. 

“I’d do it right.” She decided. “Raising them how you’d want.” 

You gave her an earnest smile. 

She gave her usual awkward air at sincerity. 

You gave the moment time to breathe before ruining it for her sake. “Wiping my mouth and trying to get me a booster seat is not a great way to show it.”

“I did not!” She lit up at the shift. 

“You did!”

“There’s no booster seat for the current size of your ass.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Coral laughed maniacally.

You elbowed her.

She sent one right back.

Two calm seconds panned out before you were bumping each other’s chairs.

The scraping summoned a server who was clearly too scared to interrupt and ask if everything was alright.

They also spied the wing.

They turned tail for the kitchen.

“Last chance!” You pointed and almost got her eye.

She swatted you away at the last second. “Not on your unborn spawn!”

“Rules are rules!” You mocked.

“Who else besides Hypno!? I know you aren’t giving it to him with that husband of his!”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“I will because I’ll be stuck with them!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

The kitchen doors opened in a telling way.

You both went rigid as the cook came out and headed in your direction.

“Lick it and it’s yours!”

She sat out a beat and the man disappeared behind a pillar on the way.

You kept lookout.

“One lick!”

You watched her reach out.

A single digit emerged from the rest.

You waited for the bluff.

It never came.

She made contact and hid the sauce laden finger back on her person, just as the cook arrived.

“Apologies! Let me get this for you!” The man took only the one basket.

You both watched him go with the intent of prey animals before looking at where Coral had cradled her hand to her chest.

You heard her gulp.

You saw her shudder.

She inhaled deep to steady herself before bringing her hand up.

You caught her wrist before it got too close to her extended tongue. “I was joking!”

“You were?!” 

“Yeah! I didn’t think you would-! That sent someone to the hospital!”

“It’s pretty hard to tell!”

“I would not make you eat some death wing to make you my kid’s back-up plan!”

She pointed the poison at you.

You caught a napkin and wiped it away. “Careful!”

She frowned for a moment before it turned into a pout.

“You can ask.” You wadded up the napkin and safely tucked it away so no one might accidentally use it. “Officially.” 

“Does that mean-?”

“Of course, you’re the godmother.”

“Thank fuck!” She threw her arms up and lolled into her chair with a clanging of its legs.

“There’s two positions anyway!. Hypno was up for the other, you realized that, right?”

She made a face.

“What is with you?! I thought you liked him!”

“I do! I just-!” She made a disgruntled noise. “Like I don’t want it to be Nelson. He’s not cut out for it and also I feel like that’s us going too fast, but I guess I thought it would be… I don’t know…! That… your stupid hubby got his pick too. You too are always so gross with your shared grossness. He’s been branching out. Making friends and being almost a person, so…” Her mouth went as small as it could. “I know he’s not picking Hypno and he’s like… inspiring or… something… I guess…”

You blinked.

“It’s whatever! Goals! Ugh! Is that what you want to hear?!” She folded her arms.

“Goals… as in…?”

“You two! I don’t know!”

“Like…?”

“Like relationship. Through all the shit. It’s crazy how you two are. Parent goals. I wish my parents were one tenth of the Grinch.”

“The Grinch being Donnie.”

“Hell, I’ll take the cartoon guy. He treated that dog pretty well.”

“Coral…” You moved to hug her.

“Gross! Don’t!” She gave no actual resistance.

You had to twist your body to reach.

Gas moved.

You felt the bubble.

A harmless burp.

Until the bile chased it.

The noise you made was gaseous and made Coral actually flinch away.

“Oh shit, are you gonna throw up too?!”

“N-no!” You covered your mouth and could smell the spice.

It burned straight up as it mixed with the battery acid of your stomach.

“Ugh… Heartburn…” You choked it down and went for water.

“They have to have milk.” Coral looked around. “Or ice cream?”

“Yeah…” The acid retreated without the threat of coming out, though sometimes you wished it would.

Instead, you would be burping like this for the next few hours.

Or days based on the level of heat on those wings.

You didn’t curse your baby, but a small part of you groaned at its insistence on pain.

You burped again on your own terms to try to circumvent the next one and groaned.

“They’re avoiding us, I swear.” She looked around.

You sank back into your chair and felt the usual pressure of your bladder.

Getting up was going to exacerbate things.

There was no fighting it.

“I’ll be right back.” You told your companion.

“To throw up?” She checked earnestly.

“Nah, gonna pee. Get me ice cream though.”

“As soon as someone comes!” She huffed. “What flavor?”

“Vanilla’s fine.”

“I’ll see if they have better.”

You smiled and left. You sort of registered the others hadn’t returned, but focused more on the trip. You had to weave through tables and groups to get across the bar. There weren't any sports events that you knew were playing and the TVs seemed to confirm that. They sat on and useless, showing replays with sportscasters talking over smaller images. You paid them little mind as you found the break in the wall that clearly led to the restrooms.

Down the hallway leading to them, you saw the family stall was propped open and the sound of a tap running full steam leaked out.

“You okay, man?”

It was Kaleb’s voice and you slowed.

No one responded and the soft rush from the sink continued.

“I can’t be sure, but you’ve been weird since I mentioned the big guy…”

You didn’t chance peeking and only crept closer.

“Raph can crack bones with his jaw pressure right? I thought he’d be a beast with wings.” Kaleb went on. 

Even with the static, you heard the exhale of your husband.

“Something happened…” Kaleb spoke his realization. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t realize things had gone south again.”

“No… That’s not-” Donnie tried. 

Something beeped. “Switch eyes.”

You heard a babble of Eugene and the water pitch shifted as something was moved under it.

You really wished you could see.

“All good, we’ll get it all out. Just hang in there.” Kaleb ushered.

Eugene gurgled a response.

Your friend must have had their head in the sink.

“But, yeah. Sorry. I won’t bring him up again.” Kaleb continued.

“We… No…” Donnie struggled. “It was… me. I was excessively cruel.”

“I mean-”

“I was.” Donnie pressed.

Kaleb relented with a popped vowel.

“I don’t know what to do.” There was a thump against a wall.

“Yeah?”

“How do I…? How can I… apologize?”

“It’s not like they apologized to you.” Kaleb spoke knowingly.

“Raphael did.” Donnie said simply. “Raph…”

There was some quiet.

“He did.”

You heard a clap like a hand on a shoulder.

“Our acquaintance was fragile. No fixing disrepair.”

“From engineer to scientist, we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t hear a response.

“It’s all about creative solutions in our line of work. So what are we thinking?”

“Kaleb…” Donnie sounded exhausted.

“I know you’ve thought of something.”

“It’s unreasonable. You understand unusable theory. Hypothesis best kept-”

“Donatello.”

Your mate went silent.

“Just hit me. Safe space. It’s a bathroom. The safest of spaces. Holiest of tiles!”

Eugene made an affirmative noise.

You could almost see Donnie taking in the definition and adding it to his notes on behavior.

You didn’t disagree, but you might amend that one.

“I would need a gesture. Something meaningful.”

“Mhm…”

“The godfather position…”

Only the water droned on.

“But that entails my child, mine, falling in with the Hamato! That can’t possibly-!”

“Raph… he’s… good with kids, right?”

Donnie said nothing.

“He runs those dojos. He, like, exclusively works with kids. We went to that one city-wide match. It was crazy. The kids loved him. The parents loved him.”

Eugene’s hair would have been soaked through.

“Didn’t he quit the family? I mean obviously he didn’t, but like he put his foot down. He’s had enough of it. I don’t know him like you, but I don’t know… I can see him… If something happened to you… giving up everything. Dropping it all to take on that new duty. I’m not vouching for it, you can do whatever, but it’s not that bad of an idea. It’s a big gesture. He goes soft at the slightest thing. You offer him this and he’s definitely going to cry. ”

There was quiet again and the rushing water was getting to you.

Your bladder ached.

You shifted stance to try to alleviate pressure.

It did little.

It rarely did these days.

Your limit was your limit.

“I admit I’ve… considered such…” Donnie murmured.

You pulled the closest bathroom door and ducked inside.

You checked and saw that there was a mechanism to close it quietly and did your business.

You emerged in time to see a soaked wet cat of Eugene send you a blood red glance.

“What happened?!” You quaked to fuss over them.

“Vomit in my eyes. I do not want to talk about it.” They glared as much as their swollen eyes could before continuing along and leaving drips behind.

“We got most of it.” Kaleb was next in line.

Donnie nodded and looked worn.

You smiled at him and he came to join you.

“You good? The wings get you?” Kaleb wondered, not put out by third-wheeling.

You slipped your arms through Donnie’s. “Nah, classic gotta pee business.”

“Truth.” Kaleb’s head bobbed and you headed back to the table.

Eugene was there with their face in a bowl of ice cream.

Each place setting had a specific scoop set and Coral smirked over her dominion.

“Nice!” You dropped down hard in your seat and grabbed a spoon.

Eugene sighed dreamily.

“They… good…? They look like shit.” Coral asked with a thrown thumb before she got eyes on Kaleb and Donnie. “Are you guys good? You look like shit too.”

Kaleb popped the wet prints on his shirt with pride before taking his ice cream bowl. “It’s called friendship. This is mine. Wiping drool is yours.”

“Like you were in the running! Shoe weirdo!” She teased.

“Do not besmirch cutie baby booties in front of my ice cream!” Kaleb pretended to cover his dish’s ears. “Don’t worry. Mean old Cor’ didn’t mean it.”

Coral rolled her eyes.

Donnie reviewed his ice cream like a child given some kind of consolation prize for being good at the dentist.

His metaphorical drilled tooth hurt too much to enjoy the treat.

You took your bite while toeing for him under the table.

His long legs weren’t too hard to find.

He looked up at you tepidly. 

You sent him a smile that held all your thoughts on the matter you had both discussed already.  He reviewed you with a steadying breath before moving to take a bite of his own.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

🎵I just want to celebrate ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉ my betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup 🎵

[royalarchivist]

Quackity: Oh, it's gonna be so cool to see how this develops. I'm excited, I'm gonna try my best. I'm not the greatest at Minecraft whatsoever, I did nerf Green Team a little bit by accident on the second day. My bad! But, you know, I'm so ready to just grind out and see what we can do, and I just–

I wish everyone saw it with the same amount of, like, kind of enthusiasm. I think all of this and all the development and all the potential arcs, that's going to fcking allow for something absolutely incredible.

And if anyone ends up clipping any of this, something I do want to say is I implore people to view everything with a lot of enthusiasm. No stress, no anxiety, just a lot of enthusiasm. Because, again, this is going to allow for a lot of cool things in the server. Not just now, but in the future, too.

[nyaaamato]

bad omens

[welcometogrouchland]

Batman #149 by chip zdarsky is mostly unremarkable, but I'm really fascinated by how it makes a great case for 'good' endings not saving 'bad' stories*. Because there's a lot of interesting concepts in this issue (bruce having to deal with his rapidly aging and decaying clone making him think about his own life, re-establishing a 'nest' so to speak for his family after pushing them away, etc) but bc of the OOC slog that came before it, almost every moment w/ the batfamily comes off as unearned and disingenuous imo.

Like, everything with Damian is the perfect example in this. Because in isolation it's...fine. admittedly it's a missed opportunity to not go deeper into how Damian would feel about a clone of his dad who tried to kill considering Damian's relationships with clones of himself (the heretic rejects and respawn) or with former enemies who wanted him dead but who were manipulated and/or brainwashed (like suren and maya).

Zdarsky doesn't go into any of this but you could maybe excuse it as the issue not being about Damian. However, coupled with the previous bizarre characterizations of Damian in 147 and 148, it ends up not being fine- instead it starts to feel...icky how Damian (who, despite often being drawn and written as white, will never have his connection to the non-white al ghuls forgotten and will always be effected by racism even when not portrayed as a poc) is constantly written as overly violent, uncaring and narrow minded in this run. Coupled w/ trying to recanonize the morrison origin for Damian it's like. OH this is badly written and laden with subtle bigotry, sick**

That's me going into detail on it with Damian but it's applicable to other things in this issue- the way Cass, Steph and Duke have all been ignored or turned into jobbers makes their inclusion in the 'family' here feel hollow instead of satisfying. Bruce proclaiming that Zur was still a part of him and he needs to accept responsibility for his actions (when it means taking in clone son) wrings hollow when just last issue zdarsky was bending over backwards to separate Bruce and Zur bc otherwise the Jason thing would get really awkward. Ends are achieved through means that feel hollow or strange. I'm at my destination but damn why'd the bus have to do all that???

I only really have opinions on this latest arc of zdarskys Batman bc it's the one I've read the closest (bc I'm a hater, masochist and avid follower of even the bad damian storylines) but it's not saying great things.

Bc zdarsky can do one thing good in this book, and it's write Bruce and Tim. And yet this entire story, whether of his own volition or editorial mandate, includes other characters who aren't Bruce and Tim, the fabric starts to unravel in very telling ways.

(p.s, I think pennyworth manor is an interesting idea but I feel like in execution it's just gonna be 'bruce living in a house haunted by the memory of the people he couldn't save' but with a different dead guy this time. Illusion of change and whatnot)

*whether or not the ending is good is up to you ofc, as is your opinion on the proceeding arc! I saw some ppl complain that the ending was too "WFA" for them, which I get even if I dont think it'll literally be the same premise. If anything it's probably a lead into the new tec run. Likewise many ppl who aren't in the weeds of Damian and Jason characterization liked the previous arc! But I have my opinions and rest my case before the bench

**disclaimer, I'm white and portrayals of bigotry in comics are complicated and subjective, but I am basing my point here off what other poc comic fans on socmed have been saying about 149. Also the "sick" is sarcasm incase that wasn't obvious

[egginfroggin]

I feel the need to simply talk about the Dying of the Light AU with regards to Emmet's powers and why I wrote The Sun in Flight with such an emphasis on heat.

Of course Reshiram is a fire-type Legendary and as such is extremely powerful, and this extends somewhat to Emmet, as well. I wanted to emphasize the sheer intensity of Reshiram's fires, and did so by having Emmet describe it as "unbearable" and "incinerating," because Emmet himself can melt glass and sand.

And this is where we get to the main inspiration that set off all this hot-themed prose: a few tags on the reblog that inspired this au talked about Emmet possibly having a castle of glass, to mirror Ingo's castle of ice in Iced Tracks. Here's the thing.

Glass is made from melted sand -- or more accurately, silica, which is abundant in sand.

Sand melts at about 3,090 degrees Fahrenheit, or 1,700 degrees Celsius.

For comparison, lava is about 2,200 Fahrenheit.

LAVA.

[kumakuma-circus]

follow-up to this post with an important amendment: eevee wild cards.

persona q more like persona v(ee)-

[front-facing-pokemon]