#if it were any other neighborhood I wouldn't stress but.....

[lickingyellowpaint]

....okay, now THIS is funny.

Lady shouted at me from across the street at work. I ignored it because that's what you do in this neighborhood. She shambled over across the street. I thought she'd ask me for a ciggie, but she asked the time, and I was pretty clipped and pretty both-hands-on-phone careful because she was getting too close.

"Oh, that's right. You're the undercover."

"I'm what?"

"The undercover cop. Someone showed me a picture of you."

"That would be VERY strange," I said because couldn't think of anything else to say, put my cig out and went inside.

Guys.... ALL I can figure here is that since my boss has been gone, okay, yes, I've been taking more smoke breaks than usual since boss is out. Yes, I stand and watch the street like a hawk when I do so, because this is NOT a neighborhood to let your guard down in.

So, it's entirely possible some of the neighborhood.... now believes I'm out there, in the same spot every day, keeping an eye on shit, for a REASON. That little 5'3", 110-pound, smiley chatty dog-petting ME (with an intense history irl of weird run-ins with authorities, let's say) is a fuckin' undercover cop.

Enough so that at least one of them took a picture of me and is sharing it around.

Yeeeeeaaaaahhh...... think I'll start taking my smoke breaks out back from now on. This is only funny until I start thinking about it too much. Unhinged neighborhood like this, you don't know who's gonna try some shit or why. Paranoia is half the reason I left skip tracing, too, so this just... isn't nice to worry about while in a cozy lil healthcare role, ya know?

[matan4il]

I found it so bizarre when I came across posts on Tumblr talking about a random Palestinian online influencer by her first name (yeah, I know she has a "press" vest, so people call her a journalist. Seriously laughing at anyone thinking or pretending like there's any free press in Gaza. If you're Gazan and have a "press" vest, you got it from Hamas, or it was at some point approved by Hamas). But it's not just the way they talked about her by her first name, as if she was someone they personally knew, and therefore could fully trust, it's the way that there were instructions passed on from her to the masses reading the posts. "Bisan said" this and "Bisan asked that we" that, and I felt like I was reading the instructions of a cult leader being passed down to the cult members. Honestly, it might as well have said, "Saint Bisan" the way that she's quoted like her every word is to live and die by.

Examples will be attached to the end of this post.

Anyway, turns out Saint Bisan has asked people to donate to her and other Gazans, and then just decided to keep all that money to herself? What a shocker.

And I'm gonna stress again she's got some sort of a connection to Hamas, or she wouldn't be able to pass herself off as a journalist. That's where everyone's money has gone to. Someone with at the very least ties to a genocidal, antisemitic terrorist organization, responsible for the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, with their only greater victim being the Palestinians themselves, when Hamas uses them as human shields or directly kills them.

Anyway, here's just two random examples of some cult-like posts with instructions from "Saint" Bisan...

Oh, and I just read that before the war, her family's home and her office were in the neighborhood of Rimal. Before the Oct 7 massacre, that was considered a luxury neighborhood, and ONLY people affiliated with Hamas were rich enough that they could afford to live there. She's been saying that she's Hamas all along. People just don't know the nuances of her language.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[seventeenpins]

just like heaven

pairing: best friend's mom!Tess x stoner!reader word count: 5k summary: Your best friend's mom catches you smoking in her living room. She teaches you a lesson. content/warnings: dubcon, intoxication, Tess is predatory, age gap, an exceptional amount of weed smoking, virgin!reader, smut smut smut, mommy kink, a lil bit of softness because I’m the one writing it 🤷, Tess gets you high and fucks you a/n: okay this is literally just a porn scenario, with the express purpose of celebrating morally grey predatory lesbians, working on pushing my own boundaries as I write, and an ode to Tess Servopoulos, who I would be honoured to have step on me. Shoutout to @ozarkthedog for the title, for being my whole heart and for allowing me to scream horny Tess thoughts at you every minute of the day, and to @ems-chaos-corner whose feedback and beautiful reactions are deeply appreciated, truly cherished, and an absolute fucking joy! 🥹

It's Friday night and the week's been a shit show. The week kicked off with a work catastrophe, and the second the fires had been put out, up started the roommate drama.  You had just picked up fresh bud, but you'd left your bong at the home of your friend. Or rather, his mom's home, in whose basement he resides.

You and Charlie have known each other most of your lives, but his mother had been a workaholic, rarely at home, and memorable only from birthdays and holidays. Near the end of her marriage, she discovered her husband had been having an affair. To settle the score, she fucked his mistress.

It was the most enduring of the neighborhood gossip, and though you knew Tess, at least a little bit, you found yourself almost mythologizing her.

Since the divorce, Tess became much more present as a mother. She worked a few less hours and invited her son to live in her lavish, post-divorce home, rent free, as he made his way through college.

You didn’t see her often, but you liked her. And, she thought of you as one of Charlie’s “good” friends, as the two of you had never gotten into any legal trouble, and you always felt a little special, knowing she was cool with you. You’d seen her glare down Charlie’s other friends, but you swear, she even winked at you once.

So now, the plan–

Charlie was gonna meet you here, and then you were gonna hang out and smoke together. He assured you his mom wouldn't be home for hours–she’s got a big press conference tonight. 

But you'd just gotten a call from him; one of your coworkers called out, and he's already there, so he's gonna pull a double and get that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

(He did ask if you wanted the shift. You told him absolutely not, but appreciated the consideration.)

He texts you when he's on his break. Sorry I bailed! Will make it up to you! You can chill at mine as long as you like. You can crash too. I know you hate the basement, so go smoke in the living room. Mom won't be home till late, and the fan works great. I do it all the time.

It's a relief, not feeling relegated to his room. It was a fine room, you supposed, but stumbling upon crispy socks twice has been two times too many. And, maybe, you’d have a chance to snoop.

It's eight pm. You've been at Charlie's for an hour, and you're finally starting to feel the stress of the day ebb away. You let your eyes flutter closed as you clear the chamber and hold in the smoke. You start to let it out, but reel back coughing when the lights are suddenly switched on, startling you badly enough you jump a foot into the air.

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" says a cool voice, and you feel your stomach flip with sudden terror, eyes flying open.

Tess stands in the doorway, glowering.

It takes you a minute, a mortifyingly long minute, for the coughing to subside. The more you try to suppress it, the worse it gets, and the whole time, she’s glaring at you.

"I'm not really close to my mom." You tell her. She stares at you blankly.

"Not the fucking point." She says, but now she looks like she's holding back a laugh.

"Sorry," you try to explain, "I didn't know anyone would be home, I thought you had a work thing–"

She rolls her eyes before turning and making a show of opening all of the windows.

"Remember, this is my fuckin house, kid," she snaps at you, "Press conference was cancelled.”

“Oh,” you frown, “That sucks.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tess rolls her eyes. "Yeah. It fucking sucks. The production’s truck got broken into at the last fucking second and we lost half our gear.”

“Well, shit.” You're not quite sure where to go with this, what to say.

You look away for a moment, awkward and uncomfortable, but she makes no move to go anywhere. When you look back, you realize she's still looking at you, eyes sweeping you up and down before landing on your emptied water glass, still damp with condensation, sitting next to a coaster. Quickly, you scramble to correct it.

"We gotta work on your manners," she says and nods, decision made.

“Hey, I’m– I’m sorry. I should go. I shouldn’t be here, didn't mean to be in your way- And I’m sorry, again—"

She ignores you, your rambling falling on deaf ears. She strides across the room and seats herself down on the sofa opposite you. You envy the way she carries herself, the way she seems to swagger pussy-first, sits down with her legs spread, commands the entire space. She's kind of... magnetic. There's something about her that makes your stomach do flips.

"Aren't you gonna offer me a hit?"

"Oh." You weren't expecting this. "I– Yeah, do you want–"

"Why don't you come over here. Sit with me."

"Um, sure-" you say, and you pick up the bong and lighter and start to sit down next to her, nearly trying to budge up next to her outspread legs.

But she stops you before you can touch her and grabs you by the wrist, patting her knee.

"Right here, sweetheart," she smirks.

Your stomach flips. "Oh no, I don't think that-"

"It's alright, honey, I don't bite."

It's less of a request and more of a command. Your heart, which had only been a little settled for a moment, started to race again.

"Oh- okay."

You lower yourself down.

"Face me," she corrects you. You'd been going to sit on her knee with your own knees pressed together. You redirect your limbs and swing a leg over her, so you're straddling her thigh.

"Good girl," she tells you, and as if you don't need a whole moment to reevaluate your entire life, she continues, seemingly oblivious. It's a casual, almost disinterested, "So, what is it we're smoking?"

"Um, it's... it's weed-"

She barks a laugh and it nearly startles you. It doesn't mean anything, the way you feel yourself bounce on her leg, the pressure at the inseam- "Yeah, kid," she snorts, "I figured that bit out myself."

"Of course," you mumble, humiliated, "Sorry, being stupid-"

She cuts you off. "When I was your age- well actually, how old are you? You even old enough to buy this shit?"

"Twenty-one," you admit with a wince, suddenly wishing you had at least a decade on your actual age.

"You're killin' me, kid," she huffs out a long breath and shakes her head.

It only derails her for a moment.

"Well, when I was your age, this shit wasn’t even close to making it onto the ballot, let alone get legalized. We didn't know anything about strains. We'd get a dry little dime bag for ten bucks. It usually turned out to be mostly shake and seeds, but that's all we could get, so we'd pay the creep who lived down the street and tried not to piss him off cause he was the only weed guy we knew."

"Well." You're not quite sure what to say. "That sounds like it sucked. I guess times aren’t so different though. There’s a really creepy budtender at the shop this side of town. But there’s also a cute girl who works there. It’s overpriced and looks like a fuckin’ Apple Store. Whenever she’s working, though, she slips me a couple extra pre-rolls. So it’s kinda worth it."

You see something in her eyes flash and then return to her steady gaze.

"It's been years since I've smoked," she admits. "Well, weed at least. Still smoke the occasional cig.”

"Oh really, why’d you stop?

"Well, I don't think I've smoked regularly since my early twenties. We lost our dealer and it just didn't seem worth it to find another. It was really just word of mouth, where I was living.”

"Your dealer get caught or something?"

"Not exactly. See, he'd tried to slip his hand up a girls' skirt and the girl was decidedly not into it. The asshole ended up with a shattered nose. I've always loved how they described it. Shattered. Served him right."

You nod.

"He decided it maybe wasn't worth it." She pauses. "So. I guess your generation has fancy fuckin dispensaries, and my generation had the weed guy. Your generation has such dumbass names for strains and, and mine crossed our fingers hoping we weren’t just gettin’ stems and seeds."

You're silent for a moment.

Then, stumbling and foolish, you ask her a question.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to be your mother." She smirks and your stomach flips. “Now, let's see what it's like these days, shall we?"

From her jeans pocket she withdraws a flint-wheel lighter. It’s old, but it's nice. The initials TS are engraved on the case.

She opens it and flicks it a couple of times with practiced ease. It doesn't take at first, and she mutters something about dammit–! need to refill it–, but on the third spark it lights.

You start to pass her the bong, but she lights the bowl and pushes it back towards you.

"Fill the chamber for me? It's been a while-"

You do. Smoke swirls through it, thick as soup and glossy. You pass it back to her.

Tess doesn't break eye contact with you as she almost clears it, only a thin whisper left circling the chamber.

It's a lot of smoke, and either she's lying about not having smoked, or she's insane, because that's a lot of smoke.

When she clears the chamber, she only holds it for a moment, places the bong on the floor next to her and, to your surprise, pulls you in.

It's not quite a kiss but she's holding the back of your head so you lean in, open mouthed, as if it were. Instead of kissing you properly, she exhales the smoke into your mouth, floods you with it, and when she's done breathing out, she places a palm over your mouth and blocks any breath from escaping.

"Hold it, honey, that's right-" she praises.

You can feel your eyes start to water, the way you're not quite coughing yet but you're pretty sure the second you try to breathe any of it out, you'll be lost.

With her pinky knuckle, she prods into the bowl of the bong again and moves the bud around, so the most charred bit is discarded and fresh bud is at the top.

"You can let go now," Tess tells you, finally pulling her hand away.

You let out the smoke and, as you predicted, fold over yourself starting to cough. Tess just smiles, and fills the chamber again.

By the third time she has you clear the chamber, not even using her lungs as proxy anymore, you can taste your heartbeat and the room isn't fading, exactly, it's more dotting. The world around you is a pointillism piece that's unfinished in inexplicable spots.

Your skin feels like it's dancing, and there are hands gliding along your hips, up your waist, grazing your breast-

"How’re you feeling, kid?" a voice asks, and you know where you are.

"Mmmm- Good." you sigh, "I feel good. You feel good."

"Oh, do I?" she asks. The hands continue to trace paths all over your body.

"Your hands. Real nice. You feel real nice."

Her eyebrows raise. Her head tilts. She's examining you.

Tess's hands settle on your waist. You barely notice the way she's rocking you gently towards her, and back again. Forwards, and backwards.

You hear a moan, desperate and raw, and you don't realize you're the source of it until you watch the way her eyes darken.

"Have you been with a woman before?" Tess asks.

You grin, sheepish. "Not really-"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "What does ‘not really’ mean?"

“I…” you chew your lip. “I guess I haven’t technically done… much. With anyone.”

Tess’s eyes widen.

You try to backpedal, worried it sounds too silly, too immature, that it's a turn-off for her. That wherever this was going, it's about to make a swift one-eighty. Suddenly sobered, you stammer on. “I mean, I’ve kissed girls before. And, like, played with their tits, you know?”

"Shit," Tess's voice is close to a growl, and for one awful moment you're certain she's about to call the whole thing off and tell you to get off her lap.

You know where you've found yourself. On the lap of someone far too old for you, rocking you against her thigh, letting her hands grope you however she pleases-

Her hands still, and you’re shocked at how immediately you feel bereft.

“And you want me to be your first woman?” She asks, voice velvety and dangerous.

“Yes,” you say, not even thinking about it. “I want you to be my first.”

Tess breathes out slowly, and only then do you realize exactly what you’ve said. The silence is terrifying, and with every microsecond that passes, you’re more sure she’s going to throw you out.

Then she starts bouncing her thigh, the motion creating the most unexpected and desperately needed friction. It’s gentle, but you can feel the way her muscles tense and relax, and every part of it might drive you insane.

You stifle a moan, needing her to say something, but not wanting to jeopardize the position you’ve found yourself in. Maybe if she thinks about it, she’ll stop, and that’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

"I bet I can teach you a thing or two."

Your jaw drops comically.

"Teach me?" you ask.

"Teach you how to make a woman feel good. How to use your fingers, put that pretty mouth to use-"

You feel yourself heat at her praise, and she grins, brushing a thumb against your lower lip.

"I think-" you know your voice sounds pathetic and worn and woozy from the harshness of the hits you took, "I think I maybe.. I think I have a lot to learn."

“But first,” her grin becomes truly wicked and you feel the tension that's been building in you start to twist, get hot and slick and desperate. Her hand trails down to your neck, her thumb resting over your pulse point. “You seem nervous, honey. Let’s help you relax a little more.”

She picks the bong back up. “Pack us a fresh bowl, will you?”

“More?” you ask. You can already feel the redness of your eyes, and know that any more will make you stupid.

“More.” Tess agrees.

“We could just, like, start by making out?” you suggest.

Tess doesn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“You wanna make out?” she taunts, lip curled.

“Fuck, Tess, I’m high–” you whine, “I didn’t mean that to sound so high school.”

“God,” she sighs, shaking her head, “You’re so damn young.”

And after a moment elapses.

“Go on,” she nods to the bong, and you remember what you were meant to be doing.

You stand up, immediately aching, missing the way her strong thigh had rubbed between your legs. It occurs to you that you may have left a wet spot on her pants.

You make quick work of it, emptying out the ash and packing a fresh bowl.

“You wanna kiss me, pretty girl?” she asks.

“Yes-” you sigh, and you all but dive forward, only to receive a gentle hand to your shoulder, holding you back.

“Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Every hit you take, you get a kiss.”

“I– Tess I can’t– I’ll be so high I’ll be stupid–”

“No, baby,” Tess croons, “You’ll be nice and relaxed. You’ll get to feel my hands all over that beautiful body of yours. You’ll be my good girl.”

She grins when you let out an involuntary whine.

“You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you? And when you really need to tap out, I’m sure we can find another way to make sure you get all the kisses you need. Okay?”

You nod, suddenly desperate to please. Of course you can take it. You’ll be so, so good for her. And you’ll get to feel her lips on yours, feel her hands explore you, touch you, take–

The first hit is dizzying, but it mellows out quickly.

Emboldened, you grin at her. “Fair’s fair,” you declare.

Tess rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, too. “C’mon up, honey.”

You put the pipe down and straddle her. You give yourself just a moment to feel her here, hot and soft and lovely between your thighs. You love the way you can feel her abdomen rise and fall with her breath, and smell her hair.

Slowly, carefully, you lean in. Soft, firm lips press against yours, and you feel a heat inside you immediately combust, roar to life. You’re filled with such unadulterated need, you think you might die.

Then, she pulls away, and you reel.

“No-“ you whimper, and she lifts the bong back up to you.

You don’t know how many hits you take, each punctuated with another press of her lips to yours. You’ve never smoked like this, never this much. The world is dizzy and foggy, but her hands are grounding. They rub broad circles into your aching shoulders, tease you with feather-light touches. 

It’s unclear how much time has passed, but after she pulls away from another kiss, she holds you back when you move to pick up the pipe.

“I think you’ve had enough,” she croons. You love her voice, the way she’s soft with you.

You blink lazily at her and lean in for another kiss.

Instead, she pulls back.

“Honey, don’t forget. Like I said, you’ll have another way to earn these kisses.”

“Want you,” you mumble. Being apart from her for even these moments feels torturous. You need her skin against yours.

“For every article of clothing you take off, you’ll get to touch me.”

You focus on her words, making sure you’re getting it right through the fog in your head.

“Can I—” you trail off.

“Can you what?”

“Can I take it all off? And then I can touch you as much as you like?”

“Well, aren't you ambitious?” She smirks, and then considers, tilting her head side to side. “I suppose that would work. But I want you to put on a show for me.”

You scramble up, with much speed and little grace. She huffs a laugh when you nearly topple as you pull your jeans down.

“Slowly, baby. Want to watch you.”

You do your best to slow down, peeling each garment off, one by one, and leaving them in a disorganized heap.

“That’s it,” she praises, “Doing such a good job.”

When you’re nearly bare, you hesitate, fumbling with the band of your panties. This moment, this moment, feels like the point of no return.

“I— I wanna see you.” You say, suddenly more focused, and very nervous.

“Baby, you’re still wearing your panties.”

She says it sweetly, but you know it’s not a request. It’s a command. You slip them down, now totally naked before her. 

You realize; this is the first time you’ve been so fully naked in front of someone who wants to fuck you.

Doubt and anxiety start to cloud your mind as Tess looks you up and down.

You speak without thinking, “Am I pretty?”

It’s such a simple, inane question. But Tess doesn’t hesitate.

“Of course you are, baby. You’re stunning.” She states, and it’s definitive. Who would ever question Tess?

Warmth rushes back through you, your body suddenly hot again with arousal, banishing any lingering fear. You let yourself feel the fog, feel the sensation.

You relax as you stand, enjoying the feeling of ambient air on your body, the breeze from outside sifting through the hair on your arms and legs.

“Come back to me,” Tess prods, and you realize you’ve been standing with your eyes closed. You open your eyes, and you’re shocked when you see that Tess herself is naked before you. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, golden-brown silk adorning her, streaks of gray at her temples. Her body is firm and toned, but she has her fair share of scars and dimples and cellulite. Stretch marks decorate her belly, old but beautiful with the way they gleam pearlescent in the light.

“You want to touch me?” She asks, and you nod. Hand outstretched, you move towards her. She reaches her hand out to meet you, grasps your palm and kisses your fingertips.

It feels like worship.

“Come with me,” she tells you, and you follow, hand in hers. She brings you to her bedroom, one room in this house you’ve never seen. You want to pay attention to all of it, but you cannot focus. You cannot tear yourself away from her.

She guides you, seating you at the head of the bed with legs spread. Then, she settles herself in between them, spreading her own legs. You can feel her ass against your thighs, the heat radiating from her. You want so badly to touch.

“How do you like to touch yourself?” She asks, and you pause.

You know what you like, but you’ve never actually had to describe it before.

“I, um-“ you swallow. “I like to, uh, work myself up. Play with myself all around, um—“

“Your pussy?”

“Yeah, all around my pussy. And then, when I’m ready, I rub my clit. Make little circles above it. Maybe put a finger or two in, if I feel like it, but usually it’s enough with just my clit.”

Tess nods, and you feel the rumble of a sigh through her body. 

“Touch me like that,” she commands.

And you do.

You slip your arms around her, stroking her thighs. Muscles tense beneath your fingers, and you hear her groan.

Gently, slowly, you trace fingertips closer and closer to her apex. You brush along her inner thighs, and feel victorious when she stifles a gasp. Then, you stroke the outer confines of her vulva, feeling how hot she is between her thighs. The hair between her legs feels sensational against your skin, especially in your high, and you get lost in the feeling of it. You’re touching her. You’re touching her. And she likes it.

She lets you continue to stroke at her, all around her, everywhere but the place she wants you most. Then, you realize you feel a trickle of wetness from her, and you dip your fingertips down to catch it. You slide back up, through her folds, catching so much slickness. She’s wet, she’s so fucking wet, and she’s wet for you. 

You rub your fingers together, obsessed with the almost egg-white slick stringing translucent between them. Everything that you wondered about yourself, worried was an anomaly, proven absent in porn–it’s like a revelation. She’s just like you. And she’s totally different. She’s a mirror, and an entity complete and singular.

She’s a fucking goddess.

You pull her hood back and swipe a slick thumb lightly against her clit. Immediately, you’re dizzy at the sensation of her rolling her hips against you, pressing against you, towards your fingers, trying to get more friction. You barely get any physical contact from her the way you need, but the proximity alone is overwhelming. 

You rut up against her, knowing there’s nothing for you to get yourself off on here without changing position entirely. But the closeness is incredible. You feel your own wetness smear on her back and her ass, the way you’re dripping. And Tess, her back pressed against your breasts, occasionally dipping to nibble kisses along your throat and jaw.

Lost between sensation, and curiosity, you reach through the fog. You want to do a good job. You want to make her feel good. It’s interesting, you think, all the ways she feels different to you. Her labia are a little longer, spreading over your fingers as you stroke along her slit again and again. She’s making the loveliest sounds, whines and moans and whimpers, sounds you never thought you’d hear from her.

When you press your fingers against her clit again, she almost yelps, but the yelp morphs into a deep moan as she starts rocking against the pressure, chasing the sensation. It feels so similar, but totally foreign at the same time. You dip a couple of fingers into her opening. You stroke her how you stroke yourself. And then you move to press in deeper, and the angle’s all wrong. You suddenly feel embarrassed. Of course vaginas aren’t all the same! You try again, relaxing your fingers, slowly massaging into her. She gently rests her hand on yours. You think she might pull it back. Instead, she guides it, angling your fingers just right so they’re slipping into her tight heat and lets out a heaving sigh.

If she’d been trying to stay quiet, to hide from you the effect you’re having on her, that all goes out the window when you start pumping into her.

Now that you have the angle right, you drive your fingers in again and again, scissoring her open, pressing all the soft and lovely bits inside her till she’s howling.

“Fuck,” she hisses, “Oh baby that’s it, keep fucking me with those lovely fingers, you’re doing such a good job–”

You slip in a third finger and her words turn to a breathy jumble of yes, please, more—

She feels so delicious against your fingertips, massaging into her again and again. You love the texture of her. 

Flicking a thumb over her clit as you pump in and out in measured strokes, her whole body begins to convulse.

“Fuck!” She shouts, “Fuck, I’m—”

She comes with a cry, shaking in your lap, and you continue to stroke her through it.

When her body stops trembling and her breathing slows, she tilts her head back, resting on your shoulder, gracing you with a throaty laugh.

“Shit, kid,” she she looks dazed, totally fucked out. You should really get a trophy for this. Or a medal. Made Tess Servoupolous Nut So Hard She Saw God, it would say.

As she finishes catching her breath, she reaches her arm around you and strokes your hair. “You did good,” she tells you, “A real natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Fuck if I haven’t been needing that.”

She peels herself from you, the sweat between you adhering your tits to her back, and it’s almost funny the squelch that your bodies make. 

And then, she’s on top of you, moving you again, body soft and malleable. She’s spreading your thighs, your soaked cunt grinding against her own– puffy, slick and spent. 

She smiles at you. “Last chance, sweetheart. You want me to make you feel good? Play with that pretty pussy? Pop that cherry, once and for all?”

The haze returns, and it can’t be just the high, not coming over you like this. No. It’s her. It’s her scent, her power, her skin against yours, and you need need need–

“Give it to me–,” you beg, and she does.

Long fingers part you, slide inside, scissor and twist. It’s slow at first, almost gentle. But you don’t need gentle right now. You need her, every part of her.

You grind against her fingers, the heel of her palm putting pressure right against your clit. 

“You’re being such a good girl,” she coos, “Opening up nice and wide for mommy, that’s it–”

It’s unexpected, and if you’re being honest, it’s a little bit weird.

But that doesn’t fucking matter because fuck it’s hot–

Your legs spread further, in part from Tess’s coaxing, and in part because they seem to want to fling themselves open all on their own. 

Two fingers increase to three, and then to four, and she’s pumping in for all she’s worth with her hand, her thumb pressed against your clit, pressing your button like she’s made for it. You’re trying to find words but you can’t–all you can do is moan and whine and rut against her, with nothing more than “Tess, please– Mommy mommy oh my god mommy your fingers feel so fucking good—”

And she grins at you wickedly, and keeps at her ministrations as she praises you– “Taking my fingers so fucking well. That’s a good girl, that’s it, oh honey– I can feel how you’re dripping down my wrist, how good you’re clenching round me. It’s okay, baby, you can let go. Let go for me, sweetheart, c’mon, let go–”

You come with a shout, pussy drenching her as she fucks you through it.

As you catch your breath and come down, she strokes your thighs, trails pruney fingertips across your stomach.

“You’ve been so good for mommy,” she smiles, eyes crinkling, “Big girl, taking all of that her first time, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you agree, totally worn out. “Thank– thank you, Tess–” you sigh.

“Hmm,” she snorts, “I thought you’d do well with a lesson.”

“I did good?” you ask.

“You did great, honey,” she laughs. “And what did we learn?”

You take stock of yourself. Of your body, your mind, the fog and the lingering high, and the absolute euphoria of the past however long you’ve been fucking and being fucked.

A smile creeps across your face. You try to tamp it down, but it’s pointless. “I’ve learned that I should always smoke weed in Charlie’s mom’s house, and maybe, if I’m very lucky, I’ll even get caught!”

Tess laughs, a full-bellied, beautiful thing. 

“I think, princess, you’ve got a lot more to learn.”

[ozziesemporium]

Ok so new random idea.

So you know those "Mean evil gf of the current polycule abuses the skeles and Reader until they move out and then they realize that the gf was evil and bad and they fall for Reader" trope, right?

I was thinking about the idea that there was no real evil gf but rather Reader doesn't like having roommates, but their roommate (who was the one exception) had chosen to take in a bunch of people (the skeles) without consulting Reader out of a people pleasing tendency. The roommate isn't dating the skeletons but they are friends with at least one of them.

The general idea is that Reader (who is autistic because I am and I want an autistic character that isn't mainstream media's sanitized autistic):

Is contact averse, aka doesn't like being touched (esp by people they don't know)

Is very blunt and goes for the most direct way of explaining something, sometimes using harsh language

Like routine, and becomes irritable when that routine is interrupted

Doesn't like strangers being brought over (parties or otherwise)

Not social at all, leading to them being in their room a lot of the time

Suffers from severe germaphobia, so they clean dishes if other people touch the insides, and doesn't want anyone dealing with their laundry

They're generally hard to live with, but this friend understands that none of this is them trying to be difficult to live with and just them trying to manage all the stress of their job and other things that makes them able to afford this near mansion in a nice rural neighborhood with a bunch of land.

The skeles don't know a lot of this at first and as such get on Reader's nerves constantly, along with the fact that they think Reader keeps washing things they touch/flinching from contact because they're monsters. Reader tries to explain, but the roommate being given more leeway lead to the skeletons being suspicious at best most times.

Eventually, Reader says that they're moving out and they're gonna continue paying a portion of the rent, but the old roommate and the skeletons will be paying the rest.

Eventually, one of the skeletons comes home saying that they saw them helping out a monster who was being harassed by a human. The skeletons are surprised and confused until the roommate explains (FINALLY) that Reader is autistic and those rules were put in place because they didn't need additional stressors given that they have a high stress job to pay the bills of that place.

When they find that out, everything starts to slot into place and they feel awful. Some skeletons try to apologize directly, some try to convince them to return, some simply tell them to come home, saying that their behavior will change.

However, Reader tells them no. They don't want to deal with screaming matches and things being thrown and things being burnt and all the stress having roommates brings by default. They say that they might've been able to overlook the behavior had they been given time to think things over, but as things stand they don't believe any of them, especially since some were outright rude upon first meeting them.

They don't blame them for not knowing if something stressed them out, but some of them definitely knew and did it deliberately in some sort of twisted sense of karma or justice for them being difficult.

They tried explaining their behavior before, but nothing actually changed and the stress of living with them simply became too much to handle, so they had to prioritize their own mental wellbeing instead of being a "pushover" like their friend. They end off by saying that they shouldn't have do give a psychologist's diagnosis to explain why they don't want people touching their things and putting their hands inside things they eat/drink out of.

The rest of the story can follow them actually putting in the effort of getting to know Reader outside of the house and the ensuing romantic shenanigans. It could be the set up to an extremely slow burn since Reader wouldn't forgive fast nor forgive easily.

Idk, just putting this here so I can at least have it somewhere I can read it. Y'all can use this prompt if it speaks to you, just tag me.

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 4. - Almost getting caught.

Abel Morales x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Almost getting caught + cheating. (+18)

Word count. 2k

Summary. But he was so stressed, what were you supposed to do?

Kinktober masterlist.

The title you'd give yourself in Abel's life was complicated.

His friend, maybe? You had grown up in the same neighborhood; during college, you crossed paths and greeted each other as if you'd been best friends for life.

His co-worker? Well, it was that same friendship that led him to do you a personal favor by giving you a job a few years later, without even asking how much experience you had in the field.

His lover? Perhaps that would be the most appropriate, as it was your shared history that had led you down this irreversible path.

It wasn't fair to any of the three of you, but you were so in love.

The business hadn't been doing well lately; robberies and the city's corruption were slowly consuming it, and for a while, you didn't know how to console him each time you saw him suppress his urge to go crazy in order to stay on what he called "the right path."

Abel's morals were questionable in bed, but in his work, no one doubted him.

"You know I can lend you money if you need it, right?" His living room was incredibly uncomfortable, but at least his wife bought good wine. You drank from your glass, staining it with lipstick once more.

"I told you I don't need it, amor." He sighed heavily as his hands massaged one of your feet. It tickled.

The truth was, over time, both of you had become more brazen about your affair. You could assure with your eyes closed that Anna knew very well what was going on. You could feel it when you greeted her, and she squeezed her fingers around your hand as if she wanted to break it.

"This is too much for you." You said softly, finishing your wine in one gulp as your other foot rubbed against his thigh.

He didn't say anything. You weren't exaggerating; he felt tired. The kind of exhaustion that wouldn't go away even if he slept for two months straight.

You forced him to release your ankle so you could stand up, and he groaned in response, making you laugh. You placed your empty glass on the coffee table in front of the couch and knelt delicately in front of him on that lovely carpet his wife had surely chosen.

He spread his legs wider and leaned enough to face you, him looking down, you looking up.

His features were beautiful from any angle. You couldn't resist your urge to smile at him as he placed one of his hands on your neck, his thumb slowly caressing your jawline.

"I'll help you with whatever you need," your voice was soft, sultry. You gently held his wrist, guiding his hand across your face until his thumb left your jaw and began tracing your lower lip. "Always."

You couldn't say anything more before his thumb slipped between your lips, and you welcomed it cheerfully. You let him explore your tongue before sucking on it a bit; had you known that's what he needed to feel better, you would have dropped to your knees as soon as you got to his home.

"You are going to be the death of me," he whispered, not taking his eyes off the vulgar and dirty way your mouth played with his thumb. "You know it, don't you, preciosa?"

You nodded slowly with the threat of a smile. It wasn't until he pulled his finger out of your mouth with a small pop and a strand of your saliva connected to your lips that he could see you smile.

Abel could swear that your eyes sparkled in a special way when you were with him, and he always wondered if that was one of the many reasons he couldn't stay away from you.

"I'll take care of it," you said, placing a hand on his chest to give him a very gentle push, just a way to ask him to lean back on the sofa; he did. "It's been tough days, hasn't it, baby?" You pouted slightly as your fingers loosened his tie.

A smile formed on his lips; you knew exactly how to play your cards when it came to him. He nodded.

"Always working so hard." Your hands slid slowly over his abdomen, the fabric of his shirt outlining the muscles beneath. Did you ever tell him that his morning runs were doing their job? You continued your path until you reached the waistband of his pants. "Without ever getting a reward." A tug, and the button of his expensive pants was on the floor.

Abel had his lower lip between his teeth as he watched you, a rebellious curl falling on his forehead that he brushed away with one hand.

"Tú eres mi recompensa."

You wished his words didn't stir your heart the way they did, you wished he gave you a reason to end this once and for all, but it was impossible not to love Abel Morales. In fact, "impossible" fell short.

He helped you by lifting his hips so you could lower his clothes to the middle of his thighs. His erection was released instantly, it wasn't a surprise that it was already hard enough for it to hit his abdomen as if begging for you attention.

“Such a sweet talker, huh?” You spit into your hand so you could take it in it. He groaned almost immediately. Your fingers couldn't go around him completely but he had told you a thousand times that he loved how delicate they were.

At this point, you were already aware of the things that drove him crazy, you confirmed it when you gave him a light squeeze and he grunted again, before setting a slow pace up and down.

"Stop playing around, hermosa." It sounded like an order but the way he licked his lips and the air got caught in his throat seemed anything but intimidating.

He hissed as your thumb traced the head of his member, smearing his precum on it.

“But you love it when I do this.” You pouted a little, putting more pressure on your fingers, holding them still at the top of his length.

He knew well what to do. His hips began to move slowly, pretending to fuck your hand.

You could see how it slid into the poor excuse of a hole that you were simulating with your fingers. It would be a lie to say that you couldn't look at it for hours, the way the tip turned red announcing that it was more sensitive now and the way it suffered little spasms of pleasure every now and then.

“Hermosa, por favor.” His huge brown eyes fixed on you, desperate. "Por favor."

He was so pretty when he pleaded. It made you feel a strange kind of power, like he was completely yours.

Very often you questioned if he also begged Anna that way.

You repeated the path of your thumb with your tongue, tracing small circles around the head, collecting in it the small pearls of pre-cum that a long time ago seemed to not stop coming out.

Abel's body was begging for a way to de-stress and you were doing the job perfectly.

You placed small wet kisses on the area before finally settling on your knees at a more comfortable angle, you closed your lips so you could use the tip of his cock to force them open.

He moaned, loudly.

"Mierda." He babbled with his eyes closed, his back comfortably leaning against the couch as you worked between his legs. “That's it, preciosa, just like that.”

You were halfway there when you took a deep breath through your nose. It was funny to remember how it choked you the first few times, how you had to hide your gagging or immediately wipe the tears from your eyes because it was too much for you.

His fingers tangled in your hair and he pushed you down, making you take him whole. Fortunately, you already had experience. You pretended to swallow, knowing full well that your throat muscles would contract around him.

"No, no, no." He growled. He didn't want to finish quickly and you were pushing him to the limit. He had his eyes closed as he held you down, practically cockwarming him by obeying his requests and not moving.

The tip of your nose was pressing against his lower abdomen, and you only held out a little longer before you gave him a couple of smacks on his thigh to get him to let you go.

The sight of your face always seemed to be almost enough to make him finish. The saliva pooling in your mouth ran down the side of your it, a trickle of it connected to his member before you broke it apart by licking your lips.

"Vas a matarme." He repeated almost sounding desperate as you licked, kissed and sucked one of his balls to your liking,

You also hit your tongue with it. Anything to prolong his pleasure.

You slid your tongue from the base to the tip before taking him back into your mouth in one motion. Your eyes were watering as his hands forced you to stay down for a longer period of time.

The main gate that led to the house opened. The sound of metal alerting you both.

You were about to get up but his fingers wouldn't let you and you understood what he wanted.

You didn't waste time and you started to bob your head up and down swallowing him whole each time. You didn't care about the way the tears ran down your cheeks from the strain of your throat.

He thrust his hips at the perfect rhythm, when you went down he went up and when he went down you went up, he was fucking your mouth without mercy even when the lights of the blonde's car illuminated the living room, waiting for the garage door to finish opening.

“We can’t make a, a-ah, carajo, mess.” He babbled quietly, barely enough for you to hear. “Swallow it all, preciosa.”

The muscles of your throat once again gave him that death grip that drove him crazy, making him cum. His warm spend was swallowed by you instantly since you had no choice, it was being shot straight down your throat.

You stayed still as his erection stopped twitching inside your mouth, constantly taking in air through your nose. You didn't have time for anything, you could swear it was the blink of an eye as he pushed himself out of your mouth and helped you to your feet.

He closed his pants only with the zipper and you adjusted your clothes still licking your lips.

“Hey, what are we celebrating?” Anna said when the door finally opened, her gaze on both of you with that fake smile that you already recognized perfectly.

You slowly turned to face her, wiping the edge of your mouth with your thumb. You smiled back.

Abel couldn't hide his after sex glow even if he ripped his face off with his fingers. That dopey smile, his cheeks flushed with messy hair.

“I thought you would be at your mother's house until tomorrow.”

"Well." The blonde dropped her keys on the nearest piece of furniture, her gaze never leaving you. "Clearly that's what you thought, Abel."

“We were just chatting.” He answered for you as you picked your heels off the floor, trying not to be part of the chatter going on next to you. “They hijacked another of our trucks.”

You had to swallow your smile when the excuse of work became an excellent distraction for your nights together. You bit your bottom lip before nodding your head.

“Well I…” You took a few steps along the carpet, surrounding them both as if you wanted to avoid them, with your shoes in your hand. “I… I'll see you Monday at work.” You tried to smile as your hand awkwardly opened the door. “Good night, Anna.”

You disappeared from both of their gazes in a matter of seconds. Both pairs of eyes on you.

For different reasons, of course.

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 36

"...Excuse me?" Camila's annoyance was quick to return after such an insane request.

"I mean, your couch looks comfy," Eda said. "A bit lumpy, but preferable to that shack in the woods."

"Are you...homeless?" Manny asked next.

"Oh, heck no! I've got a home, just not in, er, your neighborhood. Where me and King came from is under a lot of stress at the moment so we're laying low, hiding out in your realm for the time being."

"Why would you need to lay low?"

"Well..." Eda then dug into her hair and pulled out a wanted poster of herself with her hand aflame. "I'm sort of...wanted. From the law."

"...Oh. Okay." Camila pointed to the door. "Get out."

"Here me out--"

"I am not letting some...some witch criminal live under my roof!"

"I didn't break any major laws!" Eda defended, putting the wanted poster back in her hair. "Just the dumb ones. I didn't join a coven when I graduated magic school, I own a stand without a permit, I have a hocus without a pocus--"

"I don't care how illegal your activities are!" Camila exclaimed. "They're still illegal and I don't want that anywhere near my kids!"

"Speaking of kids, hot dang those daughter of yours are heavy sleepers," Eda noted, looking at the miraculously sleeping Luz and Vee. Even King was surprisingly still asleep. "You've been raising your voice this whole time and they haven't so much as peeped an eye open."

"I know, right--Don't change the subject!" Camila snapped. "You're a criminal!"

"I prefer outlaw."

"That's not better!"

"It at least sounds cooler."

"YOU--!"

"Camila." Manny puts his hands on Camila's shoulders, trying to relax her with a little massage. "Can I speak with you for a second."

Camila growled at Eda once more before relenting to Manny, letting him walk her a few steps away from the wild witch. "You better not try and talk me into hearing her out," Camila whispered.

"I know it might be insane," Manny whispered back, "but it's at least worth considering."

"No, it isn't."

"As far as we know, she comes from the same world Vee does. She might have answers to so many questions that Vee's unable to give. It wouldn't hurt to make nice with someone like that."

"She's a criminal."

"Because she broke laws that don't seem too bad."

"Still a criminal."

"At least she's not dangerous."

"Dangerous or not, she's still a criminal."

"Excuse me," Eda said, interrupting Camila and Manny's little conversation. "Couldn't help but overhear, mainly because you're both some pretty loud whisperers, but is it at least worth considering that I came clean about being wanted? Because the way I see it, I had two options: I could either lie about who I am and cause ya to overreact when the truth somehow came out--'Cause it always does--or I could just put all the cards out on the table and explain myself."

"Well, you're not doing a good job at explaining yourself," Camila said with a scowl.

"Actually, I'd say I'm doing a perfect job. I already told you that the laws I broke weren't anything major. They were just little things that never actually hurt anybody. Well, aside from the coven guards, but trust me when I say that those chumps had it coming."

"So you assaulted your world's version of the authorities."

"Authorities that will either put you in a box that you don't want to be in or petrify you for refusing even that."

"Petrify?" Manny curiously asked.

"Turn you to stone," Eda briefly explained. "It's permanent and ain't exactly pretty."

"That's...awful," Manny voiced sympathetically, to which Eda shrugged.

"It's nothing that'll happen to me, I'll tell you that much. Not as long as I can avoid being caught. Hence me staying in the human realm for a bit and me asking if it's cool if I crash on the couch." Eda focussed on Camila again, who seemed to lessen her frustration a bit, but not enough to relent completely. "What say you, Tiny?"

"Call me that again, and you'll lose more than your head," Camila sternly replied.

"Got it. Sorry."

"And...I'd feel bad under any other circumstance, but something about having a known criminal, even if the laws she broke aren't too awful, is just...too much. For me."

"Oh, for--It's not forever," Eda said, her annoyance showing. "Just for the night. Maybe two. Honestly, I'm only here because my current security system for my house is out sick and needs to 'recooperate.' Don't bother asking me what that means, because I do not want to know. I've learned not to ask him things."

Camila and Manny shared a curious look with each other, not even sure how to tackle that.

"Okay, how about just for tonight, then?" Eda suggested. "Me and my boy just need one break from sleeping in that shack. Can you at least give us that? We'll be out of your hair by morning and you'll never have to see us again. I mean, would you really let that precious little guy out in the cold for that much longer...?"

Eda gestured over to King, still sleeping soundly. Camila narrowed her eyes at him, finally noticing something she was amazed not to have noticed earlier.

"Wait...That's the dog you brought in," she stated.

"Ah, right, you still want payment." Eda started digging in her hair again. "Hang on, let me just--"

"No--I mean, yes. I do want my money. But I want to know is how did you make him look...not like that in the vet?"

"Oh, that?" Eda then blew a raspberry as she waved her hand. "That's nothing more than a simple illusion spell. Any witch with a starter's knowledge of illusion magic could do the same thing."

"You can make fake things seem super real?"

"Up to a point. Can't really make anything tangible. Only real enough where you think you can touch it."

Camila then glanced over to Vee, snoring softly without a worry in the world. Camila looked back at Eda, an idea forming as her worries appeared to have an exit.

"...Do you think you know how to make something like that...permanent?"

[curtisberzattos]

wut were pauls experiences on the east side like? it was like just picking up darry but was he ever accidentally around the gang and sooo uncomfortable which then ofc made darry so stressed and uncomf

hmmmm i definitely think if it was Just Paul he'd probably be willing to pick darry up from his house. maybe even go inside once or twice to meet his parents -- but darry would probably only Let him come in if it was just the family in the house at the time if it was paul And a bunch of other socs darry would probably rather just meet them halfway somewhere else. otherwise i don't think paul would REALLY go out of his way to be over there. the most i could see him accidentally being around the gang is at school, which darry wouldn't rlly care about Unless it involved soda or pony. he wouldn't care at all if paul had a bad opinion of tim or dally, but darry will Not let alone, even his best friend, make any remarks or comments about his baby brothers. but i don't think paul would!! i think he'd like pony and soda well enough, which is why it hurts even more when he's one of the people telling darry not to throw it all away for them after their parents die.

maybe that's paul's last experience on the eastside for a while. coming to see darry after he hears about the accident. at that point, they haven't talked for a while because he's been at college and darry's been working. they're still technically friends because they don't have any reason not to be, even if they haven't kept in contact much. but then he comes back to give his condolences. darry tells him what he's doing for his brother's and paul kinda laughs because it's so ridiculous. because darry has the most potential he's ever seen in anyone and he's throwing it away for two kids that aren't even his. darry gets mad, of course, because the wound is still So fresh and he can't imagine losing anymore family. and paul gets defensive. and maybe they even get into a real fight. paul drives away and takes a good look around the neighborhood and is disgusted that darry seems content on spending the rest of his life here.

but idk maybe not. maybe he just hates the eastside because he's supposed to.

[namelessedospuntosp]

What would GTA SA be like if we could take woozie and Claude out on a date?

I'm well bored, so I wrote how I think dating woozie and Claude would be in GTA sa if rockstar hadn't been afraid to make cj bi/pan/omnisexual.

First let's go with my beautiful king woozie.

WOOZIE

After completing ALL the woozie quests, you will be able to make him your (secret?) boyfriend in the "fours dragons" in his office or a more secluded place. After that, he will be idle from 22:00 to 0:00 (I imagine being a casino owner won't give you much free time, so be quick to ask him out on a date.) you can meet him at his house somewhat far from his casino. (It would be a bit silly to live in your casino knowing that a mobster wants to kill you because you stole money from him in his casino with your boyfriend and he knows where you work. Lol)

Requirements: None, at the end of the day, he is blind and wouldn't care much what kind of body cj has, but he would be curious to touch it (Not sexual way) and find imperfections or scars. (I feel he likes scars because of their origin, he finds it boring if an object or a body is all smooth and has no shape or an imperfection).

Food: He will go to any restaurant, bar no matter if it's far from home. Except junk food restaurants, he hates the strong smell of that place (he gets pretty dizzy when he smells something strong) and the taste of the food there. (I can imagine trying to throw a plastic bottle towards CJ's head but misses and hits another guy who was eating his burger in peace. Xddd)

Places to dance: Oh baby, this won't be like all the dancing you did with the other girls. You'll have to beat the woozie out of a dance competition, whoever has the most dance points wins. (Accidentally woozie will get the girls' attention and when the competition is over, you'll have to rescue him from them). Rides: I remember hearing woozie's dialogues asking Carl to increase the speed. So yes, he is going to ask you to go more but faster, he is going to have a lot of fun. (Another tough challenge, try not to crash or he will call you blind.) but there will be times when woozie is going to ask you if he can drive, if he says yes, you will have to guide him, what directions to go and when to stop or follow the car. If you don't respond or don't respond in time, woozie will crash, first he will ask you if you are ok, then he will scold you and tell you to be more attentive.

He doesn't care if you take him far away or close to his home, as he won't notice. Moments that can happen during the date: Remember when Salvatore threatened Carl about killing him, his family and friends? Well, I highly doubt that threat was null and void knowing that he had Claude kill people (if I'm not mistaken) who were indebted to him. So he will send the assassin to kill you and woozie. If you choose to attack, this may affect negatively, as it will cause woozie to become more stressed.(He already has a lot of stress with his casino.). So it's best to get away from them as quickly as possible, before woozie gets screaming mad and shoots you. If this keeps happening too many times, the two of you will have to let each other see each other for a while for the safety of both of you, but you're not going to stop getting calls from woozie.

Hot coffe: Mmm... if I tell you he's asexual? (Rockstar confirmed it to me. 🤑) Or well, at least he's on the asexual spectrum. You have a better chance of him inviting you to play video games, very rarely is he going to ask you if he wants to have coffee. (10% chance you have that he does, there should be an achievement for that.) but you're not going to hear woozie's moans, if not Carl's. (Just because he's blind, doesn't mean he'll leave all the work to cj.) Prizes: 40% He will give you another car much faster than the one we got in the mission "Wu Zi mu". 60% you can now gather woozie members, he can help you to conquer neighborhoods in the saints or assassinate Salvatore's guys. (Same as Grove Street members, only with better aim,

more useful and they are not a nuisance in battle). 80% Hot coffer. 100% a Mountain Cloud Boys suit, with this suit you have high chances that woozie members will agree to go with you, bets will be easier to win and if you fail, you won't be in debt and you won't get those annoying calls. The only negative is that Salvatore's men will identify you easier and will try to kill you.

Ways to break up with him: Woozie's relationship at zero percentage: although woozie looks like a nice guy and peaceful, he is not patient and does not like to waste his time if he sees that his relationship there is no good communication or if he is treated badly. He will end up with Carl sadly, but not the friendship, so the gifts and benefits will stay there. Kill woozie: I don't know who will be very cruel to kill him knowing what woozie did for Carl, but if someone is able to do that, he will lose everything he got with him and now you already have two mobs wanting to kill you.

Claude speed

is at the place where Carl first meets woozie and Claude. Most likely looking at the state of his car or observing people's attitudes. He will be free from 12:00 to 15:00 at his house in san fierro. ("But Nameless, you can't go to san fierro yet, you must do the mission of-" shhhh... cj went there by the power of headcanons). Maybe I will ooc with him, because I imagine a young Claude speed very contrary than the speed of now, the only thing that doesn't change is that he is mute and full of traumas. Requirements: Ability to drive cars at 70% or max and stamina 50% or more. Food: He likes to eat everything and doesn't get fat and no matter how much food he swallows. (Currently he barely eats.) And he's not a big fan of bars but he's not going to refuse to drink it. (Later he got used to alcoholic drink, but he still doesn't like the taste and they don't drink too much because of a bad memory.) but his favorite choice will be Burger Shot. Places to dance: He doesn't really mind what place you go to (does this guy have an opinion and tastes of his own?). He's not a very good dancer, but he'll have a lot of fun if you dance worse than him. Lol

Things that will ensure that the date is a success: The fastest way to make the date go well is to play pranks on each other or drive at high speed, regardless of whether it's a ride or not. Problems that can happen on the date: CATALINA Oh shit... can you imagine how Catalina would react if she knew her boyfriend and her ex were together? She will do everything she can to hunt him down or find another man to make them both jealous. Walks: Oh man... not for nothing his last name is speed (I know rockstar said maybe that's not his last name, but he also let us create headcanons about him.) instead of a ride, he's going to challenge you a race, the one who wins can do anything or make her boyfriend a challenge. Hot coffee: He's not going to invite you for a coffee, speed is going to make eyes at you to conquer you and go straight to his dirty game. 👀 And if you ask me, Claude barely moans. That way you're going to hear Carl's moans more and very rarely hear someone else's moan. Ways to end it: Three ways this time.

Canonical: everyone already knows it, Claude Speed leaves with Catalina for Liberty city and is never heard from again. Bad boyfriend: not dating him and lying to him with "see you soon." knowing that Claude stayed with Catalina for many years (if we recall ALL the things Catalina did to cj, it must have been hell being with her for 10 years and cause you can't empathize or be cold as a defense for fear someone else will hurt you.) He may not say anything, but pretty disappointed in you, think he is not important to you and maybe he thinks this is normal between couple and the percentage will go down, but he can still date him no matter if he is 0% processes with him. Kill him: eh... the good thing is that you prevented Catalina from ruining Claude's life(? Rewards: 30% he'll lend you his key to use his car that he won in a race with woozie (Headcanon or not?). 50% hot coffe. 100% Claude will give you his clothes, having that on will increase 40% the speed of all cars but the car resistance and the bullet resistance of other enemies depends a lot on the advance of the speed ratio, if it is good or at the maximum, the cars will be much more resistant and very rarely the other enemy gangs will follow you, but if it is low or empty, they will be very easy to destroy and the enemies will shoot you no matter if you arrive green or ask what gang you are.

[atropinenightshade]

Earthlings and Aliens

@liketwoswansinbalance

here it is!

Well, this was actually an experimental bit of writing I published so it isn't technically finished, and this AU is more "free range" for now. It has endless possibilities and plots I would like to use, so I don't think I will write a strict storyline to it.

Midas couldn't believe his eyes when he found the Rhian from the stories standing right in front of him.

An actual extraterrestrial being.

Midas had always heard that aliens were grotesque and strange creatures that looked nothing like human beings, yet here Rhian was, no older than he was.

Granted, Rhian still had certain vibes that could not be from this planet. Unearthly beauty. His blue eyes had some sparkle in the irises and the puplis, like miniature stars in the evening sky. His wild blonde hair and his skin also had touches of sparkle and shine. And were those antennae? Midas was not hypnotized or impressed, to Rhian’s misfortune. In fact, he was filled with distrust. He didn't trust this stranger, much less one who was ogling at him.

Rhian, on the other hand, was enchanted by Midas at first sight. The boy didn't look like the other Earthlings– so common and uninteresting. He could have been the child of either sun or moon: his sweet looking gray eyes and his terracotta skin and copper curls made him look otherworldly.

"I don't want to go to your school," he snapped. "It isn't worth leaving Bongo or my home."

Rhian smiled, and this made Midas bristle. What was so funny? Was he really so inconsiderate? Being kidnapped by an alien was an Earthling's worst fear.

"Don't worry," he said, aiming a glowing finger at Midas to stun him, "you will be treated well on the way there. Wouldn't that be nice, to ride in an actual spaceship?"

"I don't know. I'm warning you, don't let my father or a safety official see you. Once they see an alien, it's over. The governments of Planet Earth are terrified of aliens. They think people like you will bomb us and annihilate us. They believe you will bring strange drugs and your people here." 

Rhian was about to laugh. 

These Earthlings were the most stupid people he had ever encountered. A toddler from his planet could easily destroy this neighborhood. And Rafal, RAFAL, the logical, cold, calculating, intelligent twin actually believed in these idiots, in their so-called potential. Maybe Rhian needed to take Rafal to the doctor. Maybe he was becoming sick in the head.

A snake slithered across the grass and Midas bent down to stroke its head. He glowered at Rhian. "I'm telling you, my dad's coming home any minute and when he sees you, he will-" He was interrupted by screams and his neighbors calling each other.

Midas left his backyard to his front door to get to the source of the screaming, stamping,  and unusual noise, traveling two blocks away. Arabella's house? Midas thought. Did she purchase drugs or something?"

Rhian was about to trail after him, but he turned to a giant screen. On display for the public view, were three disabled androids on the street. 

Rafal, he thought with despair. Rafal would fight like this. Rafal was in trouble. Rhian vaguely remembered Rafal heading in that direction for his special Earthling…

Rhian desperately wanted to go to the spaceship and leave with Midas. Let his brother fend for himself. Yet, Rhian didn't have Rafal's key and it wouldn't let him activate it without the key. Plus, he didn't know how Rafal got here and what directions he used. He didn't pay any attention. As he approached the house where his brother must undoubtedly be trapped in, he heard obnoxious yelling inside. Rhian remembered to use his disguise, and his antennae curled in his hair. This was more stressful than he thought. He could even feel them become more and more purple. No wonder his brother always hid them, even at home. 

"We need to scan your chip," an android said. "For your resistance, we have called extra forces."

A woman was sobbing. "My daughter told me everything. She told me this foreign freak wanted to take her away. To God knows where!" 

Rafal refused to go near the android. He was doomed if they scanned his chip, anyway. The android came to him, scanning it without his consent.

"Identity not recognized," it said. "You are under arrest for suspected terrorism, attempted abduction, and illegal entrance into our planet. Please follow us."

"I am not following you," Rafal snapped. "If you make me, I will make sure you share the same fate as those other stupid robots."

The woman looked up, glaring at him. "They already called humans against you. They will track you down and kill you, just like your people deserve. How dare you enter our world! We have had enough wars. We don’t need anymore, much less from invaders like your kind."

Rhian was silently watching. Midas was right. He hoped his dad wouldn't watch.

"Is she your friend?" Rhian asked, pointing to a redheaded girl, enamored with his brother. To his disgust, Midas' attention was also turned towards his brother.

"We are classmates and neighbors," Midas said slowly. "You brought more aliens, didn't you? More creatures to take our people to your home."

"Oh, he's just my brother," Rhian said quickly. "He was the one who brought me here. This wasn't my idea in the first-" The helicopters landed, and Rafal ran outside as far as he could, Arabella following after him. Someone in the crowd held a jar with a tiny Marialena inside. "They are infiltrating our home!" He screamed. Rafal eyed Rhian's disguise  in the crowd. Arabella headed in that direction. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and the crowd stepped back.

Rafal was hit. The police dragged him inside their plane. He was certainly doomed. He also found Rhian with another handsome boy. Again? He instructed Arabella to go to the ship as soon as possible and he gave her the key. She made a huge mistake in telling her mother, but she didn't know any better. Now she did. In case Rafal died here, at least Rhian had the key. At least he could fly home to safety.Arabella's mother had stabbed him in the stomach with a kitchen knife, then screamed "911" at her virtual assistant. Rafal wished he had obliterated that stupid computer program. He wished he had bombed this whole neighborhood.

[redwolfxx]

Memories

next

James/DG x reader

tags: angst

------------------------------------------------------------

                                "Diego"

You had grown up together, inseparable. You would study together, you would train together. You would watch shows together and be little delinquents together. You would skip class to watch Diego (Dora's, in your opinion, much cooler cousin) and snack on whatever you raided out of the kitchen. You practically lived together with how often you hung out together. You were best friends, almost siblings, but you couldn't be.

After all, you can't look at a sibling the way you saw him.

He was always there for you. Late nights when you would be stressing over homework he would sneak in and bring you food. He would then help you with your schoolwork and then hangout with you before leaving for the night. Your parents loved him, he was so kind and polite to them.

You, like him were an amazing fighter. You would spar together, the score was often left uncounted due to the closeness of each match.

He knew you so well and you knew him like the back of your hands. You could just look at each other and know exactly what the other was thinking. Two peas in a pod. Nothing would get between you

Except everything did.

High school. Although you went to the high school you were both so different. Your grades were above average but they weren't like his, you weren't as good as him in school. But, you weren't complaining, especially if your struggle meant more time with him after school.

Popularity wise, you were different. You were both known for your looks, however you both had very different personalities in school.

You would sit in the back by the window, daydreaming of all the things you would rather be doing than listening to the teacher ramble about his wife who left him because he was, and I quote "too ugly to even be in the same room with." Which, was sadly an accurate statement. Your popularity was more of the "mysterious" (girl/guy/etc) at the back of the room that people would talk to if they weren't afraid.

James on the other hand was popular, girls loved him, guys wanted to be him. He was the school's golden child. Perfect grades. Fast track times. Amazing charisma. And a heart of gold.

At least that was during school hours. After school though, you were both very different.

You were the kind (girl/guy/etc) who the grandmothers loved and asked if you had a significant other. You would feed stray cats, you would play with neighborhood kids. But more importantly you were the reason why thugs avoided your neighborhood.

James was the kind of guy who did his homework during class, or occasionally asked others to do it for him (after all who wouldn't want to do his homework, who can say no to that smile?). He would hang out behind buildings with other friends (read: wannabes) who would smoke and basically act like gangsters. After an hour or two he would go meet up with Charles Choi and discuss plans for the future. When he wasn't doing any of that he was starting fights with other crews for extra sparing practice. He loved fighting, but his fights consumed his life. He started seeing you less.

When he did have free time he would spend it with his girlfriend if the week from his school making out in the hallway bathrooms.

Some wondered why the two of you never were a thing, especially with how close you were - used to be.

----

It was a New Years Eve Party, it was at one of your "friend's" houses. She was nice, rich, and probably thought that being nice to you meant James would like her more. Anyway, it had been a few hours since you had arrived and the balcony started feeling like a good idea to get away from all the noise, sex, and smells.

You walked out and took in the nice warm air, a cooler breeze running through your hair every now and then. As you watched the streets of people below the penthouse you didn't notice the presence next to you. With a flick of a lighter and the smell of smoke, your concentration was broken bringing you to focus on the new presence beside you. James.

"Hey, haven't seen you much." You say, breaking the silence.

"Yeah well you seem to avoid me these days" He responds carelessly.

"It's not you I'm avoiding, but that crowd you surround yourself with. Anyway, when did you start smoking?" You ask.

"When did you care so much?" He snaps back, returning the two of you to a silent tension.

The silence enveloped the two of you as you looked into each others eyes, the sounds of the city below you and the party behind you two.

"I've missed you." You finally breathe out.

"Yeah, me too." He says, his warm eyes giving you a once over.

You both return your gazes to the city below watching the city lights go dark as the buildings all light up with the same numbers.

"The year is already over and I haven't even  completed my New Years Resolution from earlier this year." He says, sneaking a glance over at you.

"Well you still have 5 seconds left it seems." You say, still glancing at the city below.

Before you know it he's turned you so your facing him. Eyes looking deep into one another's. Without warning he drops his cigarette crushing it beneath his foot and grabs your waist pulling you into him.

Surprised you gasp, your gasp is met with a passionate kiss as the city breaks into noise announcing the New Year. Fireworks burst to your side announcing the arrival of the New Year.

You break for air and ask, "Why?"

"I always complete my resolutions." He smirks back.

Your face blushes a deep red as you avoid his sharp gaze. He grabs your face and pulls you to look at him.

"Do you want to know what my resolution for last year was?" He asks softly.

"What?"

"To kiss you."

This time his ears turn a soft pink shade.

You laugh at his sudden embarrassment and lean into him. Your head on his chest and arms around his neck with his arms around your waist. His head rests on your head as you watch the fireworks.

"Will you go out with me?"

"No."

"What?" He pulls away slightly, surprised.

"I'm not a one week fling, I'm not two week fling. I have feelings and a heart and I can't bear to be with you if you leave at the drop of a hat." You say, pulling away.

"No, no. I would never do that to you. Do you understand how much I love you. I've loved you for years. I promise I'd never hurt you. Never"

"Promise?"

"Promise. Will you go out with me forever?"

You laugh at his rewording, "Yes."

----

It had been almost a year since he had asked that. You'd been dating for a while now. It was almost the same as the friendship you had before with the exception of you seeing him more often and the physical contact.

Each night, however, he would start coming home later and later. Mumbling about a plan and leaving. Being the middle of the night you forget by the morning to ask him. After all he promised he would never leave. So what did you have to worry about?

You had been on countless dates. Amusement parks, fancy restaurants, and more. He was so kind to you, so good to you. He would buy you gifts and would never accept any gift you gave in return saying he was buying your love an affection and not to spend money on someone like him. You would always reassure him that nothing was wrong with him.

Over time he would start developing your habits and you would correct his. Always replacing his cigarettes with lollipops. Although he grumbled about it aloud, he always felt warm inside at the sight.

You both loved each other so much. You believed nothing would ever stop a relationship this amazing.

One day he disappeared. No note, no message, no call, no goodbye. He just left.

No one knew where he was, he was gone. As if he never existed to begin with. The only records of him were the photos on your wall and the pain in your heart.

And with that, he was gone. He left your heart shattered. He left you alone, with no trace of him to love.

He left you broken, destroyed, abandoned. Your heart filled with sadness which developed into anger. Over the following years you would love again, but never the same, no one was him. No one loved you like him.

Your anguish would fade and you would distract yourself with work, and when you weren't working you would watch videos of kpop idols. Although one in particular stood out to you, familiar almost, but with no reason as to why. It would never be him, he always complained of the color pink, "it's blinding" he would whine as he would cover his eyes as you laughed at him.

Pink hair must be popular, there is always a pink haired customer who arrives before your shift and leaves around the same time you get off everyday, his eyes a familiar brown. But still distant.

One day he would give you his number asking you to call him one day. You never saw his face and you were cautious of strangers so you thanked him and threw it out after his back had turned.

You would later discover a new message in your phone from a"Diego."

"Can we talk?"

[justtimings]

Jujutsu Kaisen - "The JJK Trio As Your Sibling"

contents: tooth-rotting fluff, crack, them as your siblings

features: idatori yuuji, kugisaki nobara, fushiguro megumi

a/n: this is my very first time doing something like this, so i hope i did well characterizing them.. also, can you tell i was struggling a little w/ megumi? i feel i'm similar to him (i'm also a younger sibling & my sister said i act exactly like him) but it was still challenging. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!!

Idatori Yuuji ➤

Sweetest older brother on the planet!! Loves to spend quality time with you: he's a family guy

He'a a genuine idiot to the core. Always saying stupid shit that has you cackling on the ground until your stomach burns

Definitely a dog person: convinced y'alls parents to get one, which eventually turned to two, then three

The type of person to make stupid songs out of anything, and you eventually started to join in without hesitation

He loves watching movies, especially horror, and has a tradition of watching them on his birthday

Though he is a great brother, he was a certified menace when you were a little kid: convincing you that you're from the jungle, or that you're an alien

You've designated him as your personal chef; he could pursue culinary if he really wanted to

If being annoying as hell was a job, he'd be a fucking billionaire. He always finds a way to tick you off, intentional or not

Likes to keep notebooks from school (whether it be algebra, biology, etc.) to pass down to you once you take that class

He's the older brother that everyone knows and loves ^_^

Kugisaki Nobara ➤

Also surprisingly gives me older sibling vibes! I don't know what it is about her, but she just radiates cool older sister

Her favorite hobby's shopping, and she forces you to go with her on all her sprees

Loves spoiling you, getting you at least two things on every trip she takes you to

She adores searching for getaways, and she's always finding the perfect places for a family vacation

As much as she loves going out, she's not a fan of nature, and will definitely scream and cuss you out if you jokingly bring a bug near her

Very big on pictures!! She will capture it all, the mundane and the memorable

Super overprotective of you. She does not let anyone play with her little sibling, and she will go to hell and back to prove it

Uses the fact that she's older than you to send you to ask your parents for something she wants

Definitely obsessed with astrology. She knows all of her friends' charts, and full on rambles about what each of the placements mean everytime you forget

She's the iconic older sister that practically raised you, if we're being honest

Fushiguro Megumi ➤

He's a younger sibling, for sure (yes ik he also canonically is, but it's also so obvious when he's with Yuuji & Nobara)

He'll sometimes randomly blurt something out just to see confusion wash over your face; thinks your expressions are the funniest thing in the world

Speaking of which, he also opens your door just to stare at you before closing it, stifling laughter as he walks away

He's secretly competitive. You always catch him huffing and giving you death stares after losing in a round of Uno

Gets second-hand embarrassment from anything you do in public. It would be over the most ordinary thing too, like accidentally dropping a fruit in the grocery store

His curt character paired with his insults can either have you wheezing until you physically can't, or it can be the biggest stab at your ego

Loves going on walks: he enjoys the scenery, and it helps to clear his mind of stress. He'll most likely be out for 30 minutes just aimlessly strolling through the neighborhood

Has a hobby of analyzing music & films and loves to explain it to you. He's very attentive when it comes to literature/symbolism

He's a typical younger sibling, but you wouldn't have it any other way

please give me any feedback on my work! i'm extremely new to writing, so if you have any tips to help with that, i'd deeply appreciate it!

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 7 - Suffering in silence

CW: emotional manipulation, parental Whumper, hypnosis, conditioning, mind control, interrogation, forced betrayal

Previous | [Masterlist] | Next

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shepard cradled his son protectively, hoping to increase this state of suggestibility to a usable scale, despite or especially because the walls Reuben had built up were nothing more than gravel on the road.

"Listen carefully now. I'm not trying to fool you again, I'm just worried about my children. That's why I need to know if Lukas is alright, you understand this better than anyone. You remember what always happens when the stress gets to him: he doesn't eat, just lays in bed until sunset and doesn't go outside for fresh air. We don't want that, do we?"

His youngest nodded his assent. Luke, in one of his moods, couldn't cope on his own and he was all alone now too, but Ben was here and ready to support him from afar.

"You always help me out, that's your special talent. And I wouldn't dare to ask you bluntly, I bet Lukas told you that awful things would happen if you reveal details about his new...current home to me."

Ben agreed again, he was thoroughly briefed to hold his peace. Luke's horror stories about how they both would be dragged back and forcefully introduced again made goosebumps blossom at the back of his neck, which Shepard carefully stroked away: "But I'm not asking directly, so it's okay, we can play by Lukas' silly little rules and help him at the same time. Isn't that great?"

Shepard watched a lightened smile spread across his son's face, always eager to assist his dad.

"So, to achieve this, I need you to stay down, stay calm, stay open to my words. When you're ready to talk to me, I will listen."

After swallowing a few times, his jaw loosened with a click. Ben was thoroughly poised. Perfect.

"You lived together with Luke?" Shepard tried to suppress any judging tone that possibly snuck its way into his questions.

"Yes," Ben whispered, his voice sounding like it detached to flow freely throughout the tent.

Just as suspected: same city, same vicinity. Shepard would siphon Luke out of the masses until he was sure he was close enough.

"And others too?"

"Yeah." 

Shared flat. Close to campus, more than likely. Luke had surrounded himself with many people, many friends, which certainly acted as an extra barrier. Nothing his dad couldn't get out of the way.

"That's so nice, it's important to stay close to the people you love."

Ben nuzzled into the crook of his neck, a compliment Shepard gladly accepted.

"Imagine something for me. Imagine you're back in the house you lived in. You wake up like every morning, the warm sunbeams on your skin welcome the new day, and get dressed in your favorite outfit. You already prepared it the evening before, that's how exited you are to take a stroll through the city."

Ben could see Lukas' room so clearly: the spare sleeping mat he and his roommates had dug up and cramped under the desk. Everything had been cramped ever since he followed his brother out into the real, wild world, but that never stopped them from finding a way for themselves.

"Ready for the day, you step outside. What is the first building you can see?"

The question took a while to settle in, the cogs in Ben's mind worked at a snail's pace: "A restaurant."

"Is it a nice one, an expensive one?"

"Yeah." Luke had invited him there once or twice, only when his paychecks arrived.

"Can you see the name?"

Despite their makeshift living conditions, Shepard wondered if his boys, lacking papers and any kind of formal education, managed to settle in a high-end neighborhood. Meanwhile, Ben smiled weakly, remembering the intense aroma of cinnamon and sprinkles on his tongue.

"What does it say?"

"IHOP."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Shepard coughed and bit his lip hard to hold in his laughter. This narrowed the area down. His Reuben was incredibly helpful indeed, even if he was unable to grasp why.

"Taking in the morning air, you stride along the sidewalk to the nearest street sign. They are fixed on a post, a little plate with letters on it."

"I know, Dad!" he could practically hear Ben roll his eyes if he were in a different state of mind, "I'm not as stupid as you think."

But sweet Ben never paid attention to bland signs that couldn't spark his curiosity, and currently his brain wasn't active enough to produce a dream image.

"What street are you on?"

Ben shrugged innocently: "I dunno."

Prodding further would just risk him getting defensive, a possibility not worth sacrificing his results for. Lukas was practically gifted to Shepard on a silver platter, rushing it was not the way.

"That's alright, Ben. You're doing great, just go back to the house for me and tell me what color it is."

"Bricks," he muttered.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the tired man tried another strategy: "You walk up to the front door now, please. Slowly, dear, we aren't in a hurry."

A foul lie to calm his all too eager son down; complex assignments usually made Ben confuse himself into a stupor.

"Arriving at the entrance, you look at the facade and somewhere above the doorbells you will see a number. If you tell me which one it is, I'll stop bothering you."

Bother wasn't a word Ben would ever use to describe the breathwork they did together, he may not understand every word that was said or left his own mouth, but nevertheless appreciated this embrace for his soul.

Before his inner eye, the path he walked up countless times before showed itself in great detail: the clear view made of old beer cans and crumbling plaster he never quite got used to. It had to be there somewhere, a few stairs further inside a big circle. Slow, calculating head pats were exchanged for treacherous information.

"The number, sweet thing." If listened closely, maybe one could hear a trace of impatience.

"Four-two-seven," Ben murmured under great exertion.

"There you are. Thank you very much, Ben." A gentle kiss on the crown of his head sealed the deal.

Dad was so proud of him, he did a good job! All was forgiven.

The hard part was over, now Shepard had to ensure that his nestling didn't fledge again. He was truly fortunate that he had such a big heart and dutiful mind.

"How about one more favor for your old man?"

"Okay," Ben's warm breath against his father's chest let them tighten the hug.

"Are you sure? You already did so much for us."

In response, Reuben nodded avidly. He could always assist Dad, he could always prove his worth.

"Well, then. I want you to forget this conversation, Ben. Let it drift out of your head into the world, mix with the wind and get carried far, far away. It would hurt me too much to have you burdened with my worries."

Followed by a deep exhale and final sign of agreement, Ben was placed back on the sea of cushions and blankets beneath him and kindly tucked in. All that was prepared beforehand had found its use, as father and son laid beside each other, hand in hand.

"I'm going to talk to your subconscious now, but you can just simply float along. You don't have to listen to my drivel anymore, starshine, a deeper part will do all the work required. Let go and follow me."

At this final command, the last string that tethered Ben to the waking world slipped from his grasp.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[midnightstar-90]

Nothing Like The Present

(Not My Art. This belongs to @shuploc)

Miguel O'Hara x GN! Spider-Person! Reader

Taglist | Requests | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Summary: Miguel and his Spider-girlfriend or boyfriend (However you get down) taking a nice little jog around the neighborhood. A woman jogs past with her baby in its stroller, and Miguel can't help but admire his significant other admiring the baby, making plans, in his head, for the future.

Warnings: FLUFF, Soft! Miguel, Small Mentions of Sex (Nothing too crazy) Slight angst

A/N: Wow! So, I wrote this as soon as I found the inspiration from @shuploc's Miguel O'Hara Fanart just so it wouldn't leave me. You should really check them out. Anyways, it's short, but I promise it's very fluffy, Soft! Miguel fic.

Words: 2.8K Words

Getting Miguel O'Hara to leave the Spider Society, for just a few hours, was a challenge. You admired his dedication to wanting to save literal universes, but with that came stress. And when Miguel was stressed, you were stressed.

You walked into Miguel's office, ready to give him the status report that he had requested. But as soon as you opened the door, you felt a small buzz from your spidey senses. Not even a second later, a book came flying at your head, in which you caught it by the spine of the book.

"It's just me, Miguel," You said, continuing your walk up to the man. This obviously wasn't your first go around with a quick-tempered and annoyingly stressed Miguel. In fact, most of the spider people would ask you to be the one to take things to the man, as he seemed to always be like this.

As you approached the man, you noticed the screens surrounding him. Some screens showed clips of Peter Parker Varients doing different things, while others showed other individuals who just happened to become a spider person. But the closer you got to the man, the more you saw what he was really staring at.

One screen that stuck out the most from the others was the screen of you laying limp in an alleyway puddle. You glanced at it with a sad look before leaning over to turn off the screen.

"Hey, I-"

Miguel quickly turned around to face you with a mean glare. The look didn't last long before his eyes met yours. His eyebrows unfurrowed, and his lips shifted from an angry sneer to a soft frown. you look up at the man with a sad smile.

"I think you need a break," you said, sincerely.

Miguel had been watching all the spider verses, looking for any anomalies that may alter the multiverse, but every time he did that, he would always come across some variant of me dying. And every time, I had to force him away from it. He would watch the clip for hours, studying it, hoping to find some sort of loophole. But Miguel knew that he couldn't alter a canon event. It's what made it a canon event.

Miguel looked down at you and sighed. He shook his head as he said, "Y/N, you know I can't. What if another anomaly-"

"Appears?" You cut him off with a knowing tone. Miguel's frown is replaced with a glare, almost as if he were annoyed, which he most likely was. It was the same exact situation every time. He would get too absorbed in trying to find anomalies, and when you told him to take a step back, he would give you an excuse as to why taking a step back wasn't a good idea. But you knew the man better than he knew himself, so you knew the signs of a cranky Miguel.

"Lyla is perfectly capable of watching over the spider verse for a couple of hours. Come on. It's not like I'm telling you to give up on the spider society, I'm just telling you to take a break and relax. You're overworking yourself, my love."

Your hands grip the man's forearms as you give the man a pleading look. He looks away, attempting to not give in to your alluring tactics. But as soon as he goes to see if you've stopped, he's instantly trapped, forcing himself not to give it. He felt like a fly in a spiderweb, begging to get out before losing everything to the hungry spider.

"Fine," he sighed, giving in to your powerful gaze. You laugh, clapping your hands, like a kid who just got what they wanted, before dragging the man out of the office and out of the Spider Society.

You and Miguel left for your apartment, after telling Jessica to look after the Spider Society and the Spider people within it. Jessica was the only one that both you and Miguel trusted with something so sacred to the large, intimidating man.

As you opened the apartment door, Miguel stood behind you with a pout. His posture stood slightly hunched with his head facing the ceiling. With a loud groan, Miguel said, "Why are we here. I'm not even tired."

You rolled your eyes at Miguel's childish behavior before responding with, "We're not here to nap. I was thinking we get all that stress out with a bit of exercise. Maybe a run. And then maybe we can get lunch before coming back here."

Miguel whined once more, following you into the small apartment. The two of you stood in the living room, in front of the door, looking at each other. Miguel clearly had the looks of someone who didn't want to be here, but you didn't care.

Instead, you left the man in the living room, to get to your room. You walked over to your dresser, pulling out the top left drawer, revealing some clothes that Miguel had left at yours, over time. Quickly shutting the drawer, you walk back to the living room. You found Miguel just standing there, staring into space, and without warning, you chucked the clothes at the man, causing him to stumble, and almost drop them.

As soon as Miguel went to open his mouth, you were quick to cut him off. "No questions. Just put those on," You barked closing your bedroom door.

Miguel looked down at the clothes in his hand, catching a whiff of something strangely familiar. A sly smirk appeared on his face as he began to calmly approach your door. He slowly opened the door. His eyes came in contact with your shirtless figure. Your body was well toned from being a part of the spider society. You weren't as bulky as Miguel, but you could tell that the muscles in your upper body were very strong.

You feel Miguel's presence behind you, and you quickly turn around with a loud "Hey!", covering your upper body (This can go both ways, can't it?). Miguel let out a soft laugh, "Nothing I haven't seen before, mi corazón." You scoff making the man laugh harder.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Miguel's stare never left you, and neither did yours on him. He slowly approached you while lifting his sweatshirt up to his nose. He smelled it, closing his eyes as if he was smelling the most beautiful thing on earth. He let out a blissful sigh before opening his eyes once more. His eyes landed on your eyes, which shared a confused, weirded-out expression from watching the strange interaction in front of you.

The sly smirk was still on his face as he asked seductively, "Have you been wearing my clothes?" You look away from the man in front of you with blood rushing to your cheeks. Miguel saw the red tint, and smiled, knowing he got to you.

With his finger, he guided your head to face his once more. You wore a shy smile, as you hesitantly looked into his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed. I think you'd look adorable in my clothes." His voice was low, and suddenly you felt your knees start to buckle under you. Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest. His face was only centimeters away from yours, and it seemed like he was leaning closer to kiss you, but you were proven wrong when he pulled his face away from yours with a mischievous grin.

Miguel laughed, making you angrily glare at the man. You smacked his chest hard, mumbling a small, "You're such a tease," under your breath. "Just get ready," you order. Miguel does as you say, but not without giving you the occasional glance as you dressed away from him.

'I refuse to let anything happen to them,' Miguel thinks to himself, slipping on his running shorts. He watches you pull on a pair of your black jogger sweatpants, doing a slight bounce to help pull them around your waist. The joggers are baggy around your legs, but the waist area perfectly shows off your curves. Miguel just wanted to walk up behind you, so he could hold you and never let go. But he was quickly pulled out of his trans as you turned around, with everything already on.

You were now dressed in a heather grey thermal hoodie with neon mesh along the sleeve. You were looking down at your fitness band that you had gladly replaced your dimensional watch with. You looked up at Miguel, seeing that he was staring at you, and you gave him a smile. Miguel smiled back.

"It's a little breezy today. If you want to run shirtless, be my guess, but don't come crying when you catch a cold," You say smugly. Miguel scoffs, still carrying that smile that you loved to see before slipping on the hoodie that you gave him.

You grab his hand. "Come on. Let's go," You say, pulling the man out of your apartment.

Down the street from your apartment, there was a community park that everyone in your neighborhood loved to visit. It had something for everyone. Parks and water pads for the children, three different trails around the park, and even a small dog park that hosted both small and large dogs.

"This place is beautiful," Miguel spoke, almost speechless. His mouth opened, only slightly agape. He looked around at the park and marveled at the sight. "Life is much different when you extract yourself from those screens you surround yourself with."

Miguel looks down at you with a scoff. "You think you're so funny," he glares, making you laugh. Your smile beaming brighter than the sun. "Okay," he nods, looking away with a hurt frown.

Your smile flattens out into a straight line as you look at him with a heightened eyebrow. "Come on. Miguel O'Hara is hurt by a little joke?" You say in a teasing tone. Miguel doesn't move.

"Come on, baby. You know I was joking."

You hug Miguel, tightening your hold around his arms. You stay there for a few seconds, not getting any type of response from the larger man before pulling out of the hug. You look up at Miguel seeing the playful glint in his eyes as a smile slowly appears. "Race ya," Miguel shouted. Before you could even reply, Miguel darted off, leaving you confused.

By the time you realized what was happening, Miguel was already on one of the many trails surrounding the park. You let out a loud groan, calling his name as you run after him.

You eventually caught up with the man. Miguel turned to look at you as you ran beside him, slightly out of breath, and chuckled. “Glad you could make it,” he joked, matching his speed to yours.

You gave Miguel a fake laugh, flipping him off in the process. “I can't believe you left me,” you said, trying to focus on your breathing as you talked.

“You wanted me to get away from the spider society. Away from all those screens. It’s not my fault that you chose something I’m clearly better than you at,” he laughed.

You gave Miguel an “Oh, really?” look and said, “Okay, Mr. Big Man. Let’s race. First one to that pole, up there, wins. If you win, you can go back to your dark office and wait for an anomaly to appear, with no human interactions or interruptions. If I win, you have to stay here with me, all night,” you bet, extending the ‘L’ in “all”.

“Okay. You’re on,” Miguel agreed.

“On 3. 1… 2. 3,” You said quickly before running off, just as Miguel had done to you earlier. Miguel heard the sound of your laugh from where you left him. He laughed himself before chasing after you.

In all honesty, Miguel was enjoying himself. He didn't want to go back to the Spider Society, not at this current moment. He wanted to stay here and have fun for just a little longer. Just seeing the smile on your face as you two ran freely through a park made Miguel feel something that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Happiness.

The stress from the job of being Spiderman 2099 had left Miguel entirely as he sped up his movement, getting closer to you. You looked behind you, seeing Miguel catching up to you. A scream left your lips, causing the people around you to turn their heads toward you.

Your legs ran faster, hoping to get away from your boyfriend, but when you turned around, you realized that you were on the verge of running into a woman with a stroller. Your eyes went wide as you came to a screeching halt, almost tripping in the process.

The woman looked over at you confused. Your face was beaming red from all the running you had just experienced, and your heart was racing, leaving you with heavy breathing. The woman stopped walking, asking you if you were okay, to which you responded with, "No. No. I'm... good. I was just... racing my boyfriend. I was winning until... I accidentally almost bumped into you. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I was in the middle of the walkway. I should have known better, especially with this little one," the woman spoke, giving you a smile. You looked down at the baby in the stroller. It was a baby boy, and from the looks of it, he got most of his mother's features, which wasn't a bad thing. His mother was beautiful.

It made you wonder what it would be like if you and Miguel were to have a baby. Would they look like you or Miguel? Who's personality would they share? Would Miguel's obsession with the Spider Society, and keeping the universe safe, still be, or would he take more time to be a part of his family? Those and a hundred more questions ran through your head, all at once as you looked at the woman's baby.

Miguel saw the interaction between you and the woman. He saw you almost run into her, and he saw how you looked at the woman's baby. He's seen that look many times when Peter brought Mayday around, and that usually ended with you and him watching the Parker child.

Before, it made him sad that he couldn't give you what you wanted until his mission was complete. He couldn't risk losing you or the child that you both decided to have from something that he could have prevented. But being with you today made him realize that he was missing out on so much.

He realized that being spider people wasn't the only thing that made the two of you happy. There were plenty of things that Miguel was still learning, that made you happy. And now, he was fully prepared to give that to you. He was still going to fight hard to protect you, but spending time with you felt as if the today had awakened him to a bright future.

You and the woman finished up your conversation, sending each other quick goodbyes, before the woman started walking once more. She pushed the stroller to the side of the walkway, giving joggers or people moving quicker than her, space to go around her.

Miguel watched you as your head shifted from the woman to Miguel. You caught sight of the cheesy grin that he was wearing, replicating it, and moving closer to the man. Pulling yourself into the man, you let out a sigh and said, "Oh, I love babies."

Miguel laughed, adding a small "I know" as he held you in his arms.

"I hope one day we can start a family."

"Yeah? I could see a future with me, you, and a whole bunch of little spiders roaming around the place," Miguel spoke.

You looked up at the man, eyes beaming with happiness. "Really?" You asked him. He nodded, making your smile any bigger.

The two of you stayed in the hug for a few seconds before you removed your head from his chest, and his arms retracted from your waist. Giving your head a light scratch, your smile shifted to a frown. "I know you want to get back to the office. You a can go if you want. I'll probably head back to mine and take a shower and a nap before I go back."

Miguel's eyebrow lifted as he looked at you in confusion. "No," he shook his head. "I don't want to go back. I'll do anything you want to do, as long as I am with you," Miguel told the girl, as she looked up at him with admiring eyes.

"Okay," you beamed.

"Shall we head home, or would you like to finish our race?" You asked, earning a small "whatever you want."

"No. No. You definitely won that one, mi corazón."

Taglist:

[deusvervewrites]

I was taking a look about how nobody noticed the Shimura house collapsing and how Tenko was able to get away, until I remembered the fact that I had a car accident literally occurred outside my house while I was taking a shower. My parents heard it loud and clear and thought I somehow broke the shower glass door but I didn't hear anything so here is my theory after checking with the anime version of the scene, since that one has a timestamp. This works independently of whether Tenko is a Quirkless who was given Decay or if Decay was a late blooming natural Quirk.

The entire house collapse took about minute and wasn't that loud. If taking a shower, which are often done in an enclosed space is capable of reducing noise, the neighbors probably wouldn't have heard it. There's also the fact that they could've been watching something loud on TV, like an action pack movie that has a lot of explosions or could've been hearing headphones.

This is Japan. The Shimura household and neighborhood could've been in an earthquake zone, which means that if the neighbors were to feel something like an earthquake, they would prioritized themselves and their families first, not go where the earthquake originated and get themselves hurt. It could also have been a villain attack nearby and with it being night, it would not be safe to go outside.

The neighbors could literally not be home at that time and let the lights on, which some have done.

The situation occurred at nighttime, where visibility is low, the activities are low and people aren't as likely to go outside for any reason. If they didn't noticed the accident, it could reasonably to assume that the light being out could mean that the Shimuras aren't there or they decided to to to sleep. Outside of certain people, who would look at their neighbor's house when the blinds could be down, thus letting out the indoor lights but people from seeing in or out?

Given that this a house in a suburban Japan, whether this occurs in the city or rural area, checking online, the average police response time in Japan is ~10 minutes, but this requires somebody to call the police, which someone obviously did in the morning. The Japanese police and heroes aren't going to be actively patrolling in a safe area that often.

Tenko is a 5 year old child who just killed his entire family, destroyed his house and gained traumatic memories from the event; the key part, he is a 5 years old child. Given his age, children that young, when they know that they did something wrong, is to either freeze up, deny/blame the situation, or leave the area. Children that age or younger and are capable of walking can easily go away from one's sight without anyone paying attention.

Tenko is the sole survivor. No one in the Shimura family other than Tenko survived, which means that there is nobody to report that he could still be around. It is reasonable to assume, judging by the state of the Shimura house and the sheer amount of dust to assume that the entire family died due to a villain attack.

Tenko post Quirk awakening does not look like Tenko Shimura pre-Quirk awakening. The stress of awakening Decay resulting in his hair turning white and making his skin a lot more drier and itchy, thus people aren't going to recognize such a kid. Unfortunately, Tenko looks like a homeless person so nobody is going to help such a kid in a dire situation and goes by the Bystander Effect of letting someone else do the job. Tenko could just been an orphan kid down on his luck, and Japan doesn't really treat orphans well.

Honestly it's pretty easy for Tenko to have simply slipped through the cracks

[pixeldistractions]

Jack Phoenix lived a pretty ordinary life. His brother caused all the drama that people talked about in their family. In fact, when all added up, Hayden had probably caused their parents enough stress for the both of them combined, so Jack felt it was his duty to be the stable twin.

The biggest stir Jack ever caused was dumping his high school girlfriend in his sophomore year of college. He had met the woman who would become his wife, whom he married and remained happily married to for all their years since. He didn’t become a pro sports star after high school and became a cop instead. Like his father, like any other number of thousands of men just like him. Like it was a Phoenix family tradition to aspire to greatness and fall just short. They were family people, hard-working people, and their family was strong.

His family was comfortable while remaining humble. He lived in a beautiful suburban home with his beautiful wife and three beautiful children. He built a treehouse for his kids in the backyard. He was a scout club leader on Saturday mornings. He had a job that fulfilled him and a rich network of friends.

And his dad was dying.

It was early, but not remarkably so. Micah had enjoyed his retirement for a few years—not as many years as he hoped. He met his grandchildren, but he didn’t get to spend as many years with them as he hoped. No matter how early or late, would it ever be enough time?

It happened slow for a while, and fast in the end. Micah learned the news of his terminal condition last summer, and he waited until the fall to tell his family. The first months felt so surreal for them all. They didn’t understand it, since he looked the same as ever, healthy as ever. They were sure the doctors were wrong. He would live longer than twelve months, they were sure of it.

Other things took priority, as life does. Jack and Hayden talked casually about putting together a little trip for their dad. He always wanted to see Brazil, or Japan, or Indonesia. He’d been basically nowhere and his bucket list was an eternity long.

They went back and forth about where, how long, how much it should cost. But soon Micah grew too tired for even walks around the neighborhood, content to sit and watch the birds. He was watching his life go by him, slipping past more rapidly now than ever.

They didn’t go soon enough, and before they knew it, Micah was too sick for Brazil, and then, too sick for even Hawaii.

He would leave this life having never seen the places he dreamed of.

It happens to the best of us.

Micah was far too humble, having spent the bulk of his middle age caring for his family. Jack could blame his brother for being so messy for so long, but that wouldn't help their situation. There was no way to turn back the clocks.

“It’s okay,” Micah told Jack. “I’m at peace with that. But you go. You see it all, whatever it is you want to see. Do what really matters. Do it now, not later. You never know when your time will run out.”

Until you finally do know, with certainty, exactly when your time will run out.

“I will, Dad,” Jack said. “I promise.”

The only thing Micah wanted now was to pass as painlessly as possible in his home, surrounded by the family he loved.

They were right about one thing. Micah Phoenix did last longer than the doctors foretold. He lived fourteen months instead of twelve.

It happened on September 29th, 2088. He was 66 years old.

— from “intermission: when time runs out” (1/3)

Next ->

[possessionisamyth]

I agree on your post about fandom with Leon. I like him but the way fandom treats him and acts if he's the only character that has gone thru the most hell, it makes me not want to see him in any further content for awhile. Don't me get started on the shipping aspect of him whether it's self-shipping or his relationships with other characters.

I'd really love it if people who ship leon with themselves or reader or whatever would choose TWO ways to tag it as a group so I can block it en masse and not see their boring ass fantasies generated from character ai play out the same way 500x a day no matter how many variants of the tag I block.

Every time I think it might be a character analysis it's slapped with "He Wouldn't Fucking Say That" but for every sentence, and I get to decide whether I'm going to block or scroll faster.

Shipping aside(because woooo do aeon, cleon, and jilleon shippers love showing their misogyny as much as people who ship leon with other boring white men), seeing people baby him incessantly as if he's not a grown ass man is a different level of fury. Yes, his job fucking sucks. Yes, he was suckered into it. He's not special actually. How many people have the option to not work a shitty job for an uncomfortable period of time in their lives without suffering immediate financial consequences? I'll tell you who. Rich people. Who I don't respect anyways. You know who else has a shitty job? Literally the entire recurring cast of characters we see, majority of whom are women.

You know what usually makes a job shittier? Not having a dick. I cannot fucking imagine the hell that Jill, as much of a paragon in her field as Chris is, has to experience from the men higher ups questioning every single fucking decision she makes on top of dealing with bioweapon bullshit. Her only reprieve? Probably Chris or Barry stepping in for her to shut them up, and if not that, she can get some of that anger out through the gorey, visceral violence some people dream of having as an outlet when dealing with shitty customers in retail.

And don't even get me fucking started on Rebecca and Claire who don't have the mercy of that much of a reprieve! Both of them have to deal with politicians from multiple countries, majority men, also questioning and second guessing their every plan while they try to provide life-saving medicine and resources to people who need them. You know what Leon has to hear from politicians? Arrest or kill this guy and go home. Escort this person and go home. They dont' question his competency. I know for a fucking fact Claire and Rebecca get the third degree if they so much as even suggest a faster way to supply necessary footwork in order to rebuild a neighborhood or save lives, meanwhile Leon goes home and does, uh, fucking nothing until he's called onto the next job.

But oooohh ooohh woobie baby pookie puppy daddy waawaa googoo gaga leon kennedy has a dwinking pwoblem. He's soooo babygirl and needs to be cuddled and protected and loved because his job is sooooooo stressful, and he's a victim.

You know who's a fucking victim in this situation post RE2? Sherry goddamn Birkin who apparently has zero fucking contact with Leon for 15 whole years after the government snatched them. YOU KNOW? THE GUY WHO SAID HE'D KEEP AN EYE ON HER FOR CLAIRE. THAT ONE. Did I mention she is a sudden orphan after watching her mom die in front of her? Oh, and her upbringing can be considered questionable at best due to RE6 being a genuine shit show. Oh and she also let doctors experiment on her body in order to A)Fuck around with the G-Virus, and B) figure out cures and vaccines, WHICH MOST OF WERE MADE BY REBECCA ANYWAY WITHOUT HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION? So like!!!! If I want to separate it further by saying who has the worst shitty government job dealing with Umbrella after it's shut down, it still isn't fucking Leon! Can you imagine the hellscape assignments they send Sherry into with her super healing ability??????? I know they're worse because she can survive egregious injury without them using money to provide medical supplies! And you know governments everywhere love cutting corners when it comes to money.

But Leon is blonde ONCE, in ONE GAME, a good game yes but is apparently so iconic his pain magically takes precedent as the worst above everyone else's. And I hate that so fucking much because even Leon doesn't think this about himself! Leon literally doesn't think he has it the worst out of everyone! He just kinda wants to die sometimes which is not the same thing! Yet, the unfortunate amount of fans with little to no media literacy believe otherwise.