#like absolutely no lights not even power but its all plugged in and everything??

[mushtoons]

my Internet has been down for HOURS i just wanna play on my computer 😭

[lusmeitli]

Where light in darkness lies

Summary: How helping with a panic attack can lead to something more.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Panic attack, a hint of angst, fluff, a bit of fingering.

A/N: There aren’t a lot of explanations given. I have also taken a great deal of liberties to bend characters at my will.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The kettle seemed to take forever. Wasn’t there a saying… a watched pot never boils? Apparently, it applied to kettles, too. As the appliance imitated sounds of an imminent blast off, you poked the tea bag at the bottom of the mug with the spoon from one side to another, then clockwi–

Suddenly, everything was plunged into darkness.

“Curses.”

You stretched your hand out to hold onto the kitchen counter for something… tactile. Grounding. Darkness was your foe.

The familiar fireball under your skin licked up your back and across your chest. Its heat seemed to suffocate you. Breaths came out faster, shallower, harsher. Fumbling to try and find your phone on the counter your hands knocked something over. It shattered on the floor. The mug.

Not enough air. You just couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. The only sounds you heard was the pounding beat of your heart and the ringing in your ears. The panic rose up like a monster looming in front of you, a cruel smirk on its face, before it would open its horrifying hellmouth and swallow you whole.

And then you felt hands on you, whirling you around. Soft lips firmly pressed onto yours, moving with purpose and absolutely no hesitation. Its spark set a fuse alight, burning through your body until it reached your brain, sending a shockwave through you. It took your body a long moment to snap out of your onsetting panic attack and to respond to the kiss. You nearly sobbed into the lips, at the distraction and relief they provided, your hands fisting in a shirt, warm skin and contracting muscles under your fingers.

The heat you had felt moments before was gone. In its stead grew an all consuming need. A soft moan escaped somewhere from the back of your throat. It broke the spell. You heard the person kissing you take in a shaky breath, before their lips left yours and it was over. Several moments later the lights flickered back on. You stood rooted to the spot, staring at the empty space in front of you and the broken mug on the floor.

Your fingertips ghosted over the spot where lips had touched yours and a blush crept over your cheeks. In the corner the kettle clicked, the water now boiled.

*****

“Loki?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure it was him? I mean how can you tell?”

You brought a hand over the receiver, trying to shield the words so only your friend could hear.

“I, um, hacked into the security camera footage from just before the power cut. He had walked into the kitchen literally a second before it happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a heavy breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Ain’t that something.”

“You’re right,” you huffed out, “I mean, this is me we’re talking about, right?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But it is though, isn’t it,” you said, rubbing your tired eyes. “It’s just little old me. Even if it really was him, it probably just was some silly prank or a dare.”

*****

The Quinjet in the hangar was your favourite place to work. Even though today you were in the tail of the jet downloading the aircraft log from the Flight Data Recorder, which involved squeezing into a rather tight space. All that to plug in the USB cable and to then balance the laptop on the palm of your right hand, whilst operating it with the left. You had tried to talk to Tony about moving the access point, seeing as it was a weekly task, but Pepper had walked past and diverted his attention. Judging by the way he immediately stalked after her, he hadn’t heard a word you said.

Thirty-seven percent through the download, the power in the jet cut out and you cursed. Setting the laptop down, you fumbled for your phone, turned on the torch and made your way through the jet to inspect the fuse box you knew was located just outside the cockpit. No light came in from the hangar, which seemed odd. Maybe it was another power outage that affected the whole tower. You tripped and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing somewhere face up.

“Not again…”

The panic started to rise in you once more. You felt too hot, the air seemed stuffy and heavy. Your breath came out fast and ragged. Hands outstretched, you bumped into something hard. Something that shouldn’t be there. You gulped as hot dread shot through your veins and took a step back. With lightning speed slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, tugging you forward to bring you flush against the hard body. Instead of consuming you, the panic ebbed off. Your body knew this touch. Though firm, it meant no harm.

You felt their chest rise and fall, a lot slower than yours. Slender fingers trailed up your arm, over your shoulder and neck. His fingertips skirted over the skin of your throat, goosebumps erupted all over your body. Someone released a slow breath - presumably you.

The fingers moved into your hair and curled around the base of your head, tilting it up. And then those wonderful lips were on yours again. This time, he angled your head to deepen the kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue moving against yours robbed you of your bones and you faltered, glad that his hands held you pressed so tightly up against him. He seemed hungry, needy. His lips left yours, trailing a few kisses over your jaw, before he rested his forehead against yours, noses touching for a wonderful moment, your short breaths mixing.

And then he was gone again. Your hands fell to your side and you blinked against the bright light in the jet that hummed over your head. Yet again you were left wondering what had just happened and, more importantly, why.

*****

“It only affected the hangar this time.” You pulled a book off the shelf in the shop.

“More hacking?” your best friend asked, finger searchingly running over the spines.

Shaking your head, you thumbed through the pages. “My coworkers told me.”

“So you’re saying he did it on purpose?”

Shrugging, you put the book back. “He knows magic, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Honey, I love you, but before you go down that obsession-rabbit hole, it’s my duty as your bestie to warn you. Just please be careful. This is Loki after all. Hm, where is it?”

“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

The pitying look in your friend’s eyes was almost too much. “Oh where to start… He’s a god, immortal and several centuries older than you,” she counted off on her fingers.

“Actually,” you mumbled, “he is mortal. Asgardians just have a longer life span of about 5,000 years.”

Your friend blinked, surprised. “Who told you that? Dr Google?”

“Thor, actually. He had to fill in a form for the Quinjet learner’s licence and we joked about his age.”

“I love you, but you’re weird. Happy rabbit hunting then.” A victory cry fell from your friend’s lips as she pulled out what she was looking for and pushed it into your hands. “You want spicy? Here you go.”

“‘Three Swedish Mountain Men’?” you read.

She wiggled her brows. “They’re hot and they like sharing…”

You rolled your eyes, but put it on the pile of books you were getting anyway.

*****

Late shifts were your favourite, because it allowed you to actually get work done, without the phone going off every other minute. The only thing you didn’t like about them was walking back to your room afterwards.

It was 3am when the lift doors slid open and your shoes softly squeaked on the dimly lit corridor. Nightlighting mode, as Tony called it. You hated it and walked faster. Rubbing your stiff neck and rolling your shoulders, you rounded the corner. Just a few more metres to your door. But someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into the refuse room, which was pitch black.

Cool fingers were placed on your lips signalling you not to make a sound.

You nodded your head and the fingers moved from your lips, slowly, tracing. Then both hands were in your hair. His fingers cupped your head and you felt his breath against your lips. Your hands were on his chest, gripping the front of his t-shirt. Soft cotton. You closed your eyes.

“Please,” you said so quietly you thought he didn’t hear.

But he had and his lips brushed against yours, light as a feather. Your head was swimming, your heart aching. His touch was soft and gentle. He had kissed you before, but it was as if he was now seeing you, in the darkness of the refuse room, for the first time. Taking you in, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed. His lips grazed the knuckles on your hand and a lump formed in your throat.

His hands cupped your head and you felt his fingers fiddle with your hair bobble, before the restraint was gone and your hair hung loose. His hands combed through the strands. You couldn’t remember the last time someone did that.

Your hands ran over his biceps, his shoulders, his pecs, his abs. You wished you could say something, anything, but you feared you’d spoil the moment, that he’d pull away. His lips found yours again and he angled his head, his tongue slowly dancing with yours. It was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

He changed his footing to come at you from a different angle, pressing his body flush against yours. He peppered small kisses on the corner of your mouth and down your throat. He seemed to have found a spot he liked, because he sucked on it, his teeth grazing, lips easing the light bite. Before he pulled away, he inhaled deeply at the crown of your head, and placed a gentle kiss on your hair. You felt safe, basking in his warmth. And like the times before, he was gone.

By the time your legs felt stable enough to support you again, you opened the door and walked back to your room.

A smile crossed your lips as you realised that this was the first time you hadn’t panicked in the dark.

*****

“Maybe he’s shy?” your bestie suggested as you sat on her couch, both spooning ice cream out of the same tub.

Loki and shy were not words you would have put in a sentence together. But then, sometimes you were wondering if his aloof stance was just for show.

“Have you tried talking to him?” she asked.

You shook your head. “I could never work up the nerve. He seems… so unapproachable in the light of day. Maybe it all really is an elaborate prank.”

“Or,” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “or he has the hots for you and just can’t find any other way to show it.”

You mulled this over for a while. “But why in the dark? Why isn’t he saying anything ever?”

“When do you see him?”

“At extended team briefings, but the Avengers come in last and sit at the front. Rogers requested it.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “Any other time?”

“Well, in the hallways, but either he’s with someone or I am.”

“Meh. Where else?”

You leaned back, thinking. “In the canteen?”

“Okay, now we’re talking.”

“But, again, he’s always with someone.”

“Well… looks like you’re screwed.” She made a show of licking her spoon. “Or about to be screwed.”

She laughed as you threw a pillow in her face.

*****

It was just an autumn storm. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that it was five in the morning and had been going all night. You were standing by the window, looking out onto the soft glow of the city that never slept. Angry gusts of wind whipped big raindrops against the windowpane. Your breath misted against the cool glass. Normally, you slept through storms, but not this one.

The team had yet to return from a mission and you were worried sick. The mission was particularly perilous. You knew this because Tony had called you into his office, shut the door (something he never had done before) and told you that he couldn’t give you any information, but that ‘some serious shit is going to go down tonight’ and to trust - dramatic pause - him. It all was accompanied by a stare with which Tony seemed to try to convey a secret message. You guessed he didn’t mean himself, but Loki. Hence, you had chewed off all your nails for the last few hours.

When the door to your room opened, closed and footsteps approached, relief flooded through you. Not a moment later his hands were on your waist, pulling you back into his chest, his presence seeping through your pores. His arms curled around you, the slightly damp leather of his suit softly creaking, and your hands flew up to grip his forearms tightly. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, his lips soft against your skin.

“Thank heavens,” you whispered.

You couldn’t remember who moved first, but you found yourself up against the wall, his hands on your ass. Your legs wrapped around his hips that pushed into you; his mouth felt hot on yours. The kiss was all teeth and tongues. Desperation mixed with relief. A moan rang through the room - definitely yours - as you offered yourself up to him. And he took, greedily. His hands were everywhere on your body, pulling you close, pushing more into you, closer still. A disgruntled huff made it clear it wasn’t enough. And then his hands were under your hoodie, bare skin touching bare skin. A tug, a pull and the fabric was up and over your head, landing somewhere on the floor. His lips closed around your lace covered breast until he found your nipple and sucked on it.

Your hands weaved through his damp hair - if you had any fingernails left, they’d be scraping his scalp. Instead you tugged gently on the soft strands, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hips rolled into yours, his desire evident and yours dampening your knickers. His hand slipped into your leggins, his fingers moving over the globe of your ass, slowly, squeezing, as his mouth was plundering yours.

The moment his fingers found your soaking centre, you both groaned. He slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. His hips rocked into you, the leather seams on his crotch providing friction for your clit. Your hands tried to fist in the leather, to get to feel his skin.

The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, taking you by surprise, propelling you into oblivion. Loki grunted, his movements became jerky, before he stilled and rested his damp forehead against the crook of your neck. His hot breath puffed against your skin, and he just stayed like that, letting you run your fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. Then he slid his fingers out of you and gently placed your feet back on the ground. His forearm leaned against the wall behind you as he kissed you thoroughly, with a gentleness that made your eyes sting with unshed tears.

Your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you were thinking of what to do or say now. Would he stay the night or would he vanish again, like always? You heard the soft creaking of his boots as he moved through the dark room and then back to you, handing you your hoodie. You took it, fingers brushing his. The moment you pulled it over your head, your bedside light was on and you found yourself alone.

Again.

*****

The APU of the Quinjet was situated - as in most aeroplanes - in the tail. One of the reasons you were in charge of the upgrade of the jet’s internal bleed ducting was that you were small and slim. None of your co-workers could squeeze in there (thank you, Tony, for prioritising sleekness over practicality). Ironically, there was no air conditioning in this part of the jet. Droplets of sweat gathered on your forehead as you lay under the engine with your torch and toolkit, religiously running through the protocols.

“Five more checks, Y/N,” you heard your colleague, peering down at you from the moveable steps he was standing on, holding up the upper engine encasing with another work mate. A whistling noise became louder. “Then we can test– what the hell?!”

You lifted your head just as a massive explosion tore through the hangar. The space where your co-workers had been a second ago was swallowed up by a fireball. It felt as if the jet was airborne, tossed to the side, then came to a sudden stop. Metal screeched and groaned.

Your head hurt. A lot. There was a ringing in your ears and you just couldn’t see anything. It was dark, so dark. You wriggled backwards but to your horror realised that you were stuck, trapped between the engine and the jet wall. It felt like you were burning up and you tried to shout, scream for help, but you couldn’t get air in your lungs, no matter how hard you tried. Then, mercifully, you fainted.

When you came to, you were in the medical bay. It looked like a war zone, people lying or sitting on the floor, waiting to be seen. Some of them with burns and cuts, others in the bays next to you with drips and field surgeons around them. You spotted your two work mates, both with minor burns and a few bruises, but thankfully alive.

A few stitches on your forehead, one arm plaster casted and in a sling, and a packet of painkillers thrust in your good hand by a disgruntled, stressed out medic later, you limped your way out of there. Anything was better than sitting around in the sick bay, where there were people who were much more in need of a bed than you were. It also helped with getting away from the sight of the body bags that were quietly carried past you. Six, you had counted. The biggest attack on the Avengers Tower so far, people murmured. And the deadliest one.

In front of the debriefing room, you were handed a tablet and sat down. It was standard protocol after an incident like this: you filled in your report and then talked it through with your supervisor. End of. So you filled in the boxes and waited outside Tony’s office for your turn. As you walked in and sat down, he looked at you.

“You okay, Y/N?”

You gave a brief nod. He blinked and then tapped a few keys on his phone, before taking the tablet you held out to him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

In the middle of your interview, the door suddenly burst open. A very out of breath Asgardian god almost stumbled over the threshold, a stony expression on his face. He was like a vision from your dreams, donning his leather suit, covered in dust and blood - not his.

His eyes roamed over you as he stood in the doorway, lingering on your arm in the sling and the stitches on your face for a moment. Then his eyes met yours. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t looked into one another’s eyes before, but this felt different. Intimate.

In four strides he was next to your chair. He stretched out his hand and you placed yours in his, as if it was a practised gesture between you two. A gentle tug had you standing up.

“Loki…,” you started.

“I thought you were dead, love,” he murmured, voice rough, lifting your good hand to his lips to ghost a kiss onto your scratched knuckles. Your insides melted at the endearment and his gesture.

“I give you a thousand thanks, Stark,” he addressed the other man, eyes never leaving yours, “for alerting me that my beloved is okay and with you. However, Agent Y/L/N will have to finish the incident debrief at a later point. I require her presence for an extremely urgent personal matter.”

“Get outta here already, Shakespeare,” Tony grumbled, trying to hide a smirk. “Who’s next?”

But Loki didn’t pay him any heed. He gently cradled your face, his thumbs caressing your skin.

And there, right in front of Tony, with the door wide open for everyone in the very busy hallway to see, right there was the very first time that Loki kissed you in the daylight.

~fin~

[cybunii]

YOU NEEDED LOVE, I NEEDED YOU !!

a/n: i got sad and wrote this LOL but people wanted a part two to the other one so i hope this one is just as good !!

pairing: Leon kennedy x Gn!reader

cw: sad leon, maybe ooc?

-

Leon didn't like being alone after he met you. 

He clung to you as soon as he met you, doing everything in his power just to get an ounce of your attention. It's almost like a puppy begging their owner for treats or toys, he needed you, it was simple.

He’d walk to the ends of the earth for you, maybe even haunting you after death.

Even if he was cranky, or didn't understand the little things you did. He still loved you with every single piece of him, his heart belonged to you. 

And that was enough. 

Holidays have always been odd for him, his work never let him off around these days and he's so used to all of the stress that comes with the job. 

He felt almost empty, or maybe useless. 

He put that energy into almost everything he did with you, helping with baking and decorating. Even taking the time to decorate the outside of the house. It made him feel content, at least it made you happy. 

After helping you bake the first time, he was practically hooked. One bite of the desert you made and his fate was sealed, you had baked his heart and served it up for him to eat. 

He didn't think he minded that thought that much, maybe it was self-destructive or obsessive- But he would let you do anything to him, then again cannibalism always had weird hints of romance in those books he picked up. 

Decorating was fun at times, your pushy nature about how certain things needed to be done made you seem cute. 

He didn't understand the hype behind real christmas trees or specific ornaments on them, then again he didn't celebrate christmas growing up. Not that he never wanted to, but Santa and presents were off the table from a very young age. 

The way the ornaments lit up when the lights were plugged in was stunning. 

He decided that was his favorite part, well maybe one of them. Seeing your face break out into a smile once you stepped back from the finished tree may as well be burned into his memory. He wished he could've taken a picture.

-

He knew the holidays would be different this year, he was warned about a dangerous mission about a week ago, and the possibility of him coming back was less than none. 

He didn't like those odds. 

Not that he feared death or his job, but the first thing that came to mind was you. I mean he fought for you, secretly laid on his deathbed a few times, and thought of coming home to you later. 

He could never tell them no though, who was he to go against them? He was at their beck and call, a mindless robot who goes on missions and returns with less and less of his sanity intact. 

You weren't the jealous type, or at least he didn't think you were. He could handle you hating him, but he didn't want to feel the hatred at the moment, coming up with a desperate plan at the last second. 

He used Ada as an escape plan, thinking chasing after a woman on christmas would make you hate him, that way it was easier for him to leave. 

You didn't give a reaction, just staring at him with a blank expression. 

Every silent minute felt like hours, the seconds slowly shattering his heart the longer he stood there. Not like you knew that, he had been trained to keep a straight face, this was nothing.

-

He knew what nothing felt like when he left you. Leaving out the door with nothing to his name, no car, no clothes, and absolutely no money. Only a throwaway phone he used. 

He didn't want to look back at you, even if you showed no reaction, he didn't want to break down crying at the sight of your blank face. 

His only destination was the location they gave him, punching the place in and groaning when its hours away. 

He made it there the next day and to his surprise? 

They no longer needed him, the mission was a success by some other agent who was able to get there quicker and finish the job. They didn't know what he did to get there, and quickly ushered him out, saying they'll call if they ever needed him for something else. 

If leaving you didn't break him, knowing he could've come back to you absolutely crushed him. I mean even to the point of dry heavy sobs in some random hotel that he managed to get a room at, grabbing at the sheets as the tears ran down his red face. 

He never was the type to show his true emotions, always bottling them up until they turned to anger wasn't exactly the best thing for him to do. 

They always led to moments like these, a bottle exploding under the pressure and going everywhere, unable to be fixed or glued back together. 

It took him hours to stop crying, only because nothing else would come out anymore. 

His puffy eyes and disheveled hair made him frown, he never was one to look so pathetic, at least not in these situations.

He just wanted to lay somewhere, letting all of his emotions out and not having to do anything else. He never was the best type to be alone, his thoughts never made it easy.

-

He never did leave the state, coming back to your town with the promise of a small job at some weird office. Didn’t matter to him, it made decent money. 

He was observant of his surroundings at all times, his broken heart controlling his eyes as he walked the town, hoping to even see just a glimpse of you. 

He never did. 

He wondered if you had moved away. 

He hoped you didn't, with enough money he didn't mind going everywhere to find you. There's no limit to what he would've done to find you. 

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of you, or how sorry he was for leaving. He would look out the window at night just staring at the moon, hoping you were too, at least you'd be doing the same thing he was. 

That would be enough for him. 

With the extra money he had, he would just walk around the town for hours. Going to the most popular restaurants and parks. Supposedly those were fun things to do, but he knew he only went there because he went there with you. 

He couldn't even shop without thinking of you, buying the small snacks and not thinking about it until he got home, leaving them sitting in the cabinet for months because his mind tricked him you were still around. 

It was sad, and he knew that. 

It was heartbreaking to know christmas was next week. How had time slipped by him that fast?

He may not have had his own traditions, but he’d never forget what he did with you. Practically burning a hole in his wallet as he bought a real christmas tree, buying the same ornaments and lights, and every single ingredient for the stuff you baked. 

The finished tree never did look as pretty without your smile paired with it.

And the deserts tasted empty, it wasn't like they weren't good- But they could be so much better if you had made them. 

He had bought you something too. 

It may have been corny, and also pathetic- He seemed to like that word, being hard on himself had to be his favorite pastime at this point. 

But he bought you a ring, one you had pointed at on a random day saying you wanted it. It hadn't even been a week since you started dating when you said that, and he remembered it ever since. 

He was definitely using that memory for later. 

But now it sits under the bright, but also dull tree, the lights bouncing off the shiny wrapping paper. He dreamed of giving it to you, maybe even placing it in your mailbox with no return address. 

He decided that was creepy, a good call on his end.

He wasn't a stalker, maybe not in a bad way. 

That’s beside the point. 

He missed you that night, maybe more than any other night. His mind decided to be real nice to him that night, creating a dream of you being together again and being happy, celebrating christmas like old times. 

He may have woken up that next morning and bawled his eyes out, but that was okay.

It felt real to him. 

And that was enough for now. 

-

word count: 1.5k

[a-killer-obsession]

Fuck it,

👒Strawhat sex headcanons

cos I'm absolutely on deaths door sick rn and I just wanna drabble my thoughts

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Luffy

Ace and entirely ignorant of anything. Come on now, you saw him on Amazon Lily. Next!

Zoro

Fucks, but half the time leaves lovers unsatisfied. Falls asleep immediately so he doesn't even see their grumpy pout. Bisexual but leans towards men

Loves to deep throat, giving and receiving

Always rough

Pretty even spilt between top and power bottom

Loves impact play, giving and receiving

Loves public sex, will absolutely keep going if he gets caught. Same goes for masturbation, even if Sanji starts kicking the shit out of him while he's still going

Nami

Gay gay lesbian gay. Loves those ladies! Big fan of tits especially

Fingerbangs like her life depends on you cumming. Call her the Squirtbringer TM

Loves to use toys on her lovers, especially vibrators and butt plugs. Loves to see her girl with a pretty sparkly diamond plug

Kinda vanilla otherwise though

Top for sure

Ties some absolutely stunning shibari

Usopp

Straight but what a ally fr. Respectful AF

Gets flustered so fucking quick if you flirt with him though so you'd have to be so fucking foward to get him in bed. You'd have to be practically riding him before he stops being a blushing mess

Actually pretty good in bed though, decent size and stamina. Never misses hittin that spot yah know? 😎

More vanilla than angel cake though, and will absolutely chicken out if you ask him to spank you

Talks big talk though. Good with his mouth at both ends

Switch but don't expect him to be a dominant top

Doesn't know the meaning of a quick fuck, this man ✨️ makes love ✨️

Sanji

Straight, for sure, don't mention that time with the waiter boy, or that time with that very muscular male customer, or that time when he-

Anyway *cough* loves having anything in his mouth. Practically begs to have his face sat on, can absolutely cum untouched from that alone. Sometimes gets so into it that he forgets he's supposed to put it in at some point and just ends up eating you out for literal hours till you have to literally rip him off

Don't mind the blood nose :P

Cums so quick once he's in that its frankly embarrassing, but he'll keep going after, for you~

Walk him like a dog 🐕 this boy is a BOTTOM

Absolutely has a praise kink

Needs it to be romantic every time or he WILL pout. He'll give you a quickie if that's really what you want but he prefers to take his time, set the mood, make you a nice cocktail and light some candles

The first time you play with his ass he'll act like he hates it, but then he'll end up shyly asking you to do it again

Wants zoro to destroy his ass

Chopper

MINOR, NEXT!

When he grows up tho... he is a deer... he likes deer... maybe a mink would be ideal actually

Robin

Oh she for SURE fucks

Pansexual but prefers older lovers

Loves to be a soft dom, big time into forcing orgasms out of her partner and teasing them

Open relationship with Franky, loves to play good cop bad cop with him and a sub (with her as good cop)

Abuses her devil fruit for sure, turns her partners into overstimulated, fucked out messes

Loves to ride faces but is also very skilled at giving blowjobs

Has no issue eating ass

No kinks are taboo to her even if she's not into it, she'll give everything a go though, for research

Really skilled with shibari, shares notes with Nami all the time

Reads a lot of bodice rippers and quite literally takes notes, like she fully has a notebook of things she wants to try and is working her way through it

Doesn't really care about getting off, she mostly just likes to watch other's get off. Sex is one big research project to her and shes more than happy to study

Franky

About as fucked up in bed as Wire, biggest deviant of the crew for sure. Wano afterparty you bet they had a long indepth conversation to compare notes, and Wire was happy to show Heat off for him and Robin

Bi with a preference for women

Has all manner of toys and furniture, probably made most of them himself

Usually a hard dom, but unlike Wire he has no problem being a bottom as well

He is a ride you will not survive, your wheels will come right off

Loves risky public sex (fic coming soon 😎)

You better believe when he rebuilt his body he gave himself the biggest dick you'll ever see, its ribebd for your pleasure and it ABSOLUTELY vibrates

Don't expect to be able to walk afterwards, but he's an aftercare king 👑

Brook

May not have the facilities to get off, but still enjoys watching

Often watches Robin and Franky, especially if they're playing with a sub. Sometimes he'll join in with a toy because he's hesitant to push raw bone against a lover (ha, bone) but usually he just watches

Plenty of imagination though, sometimes he'll tell Franky and Robin what to do, more in a suggestive way than a dominant way

I imagine he would feel sexual enjoyment the same way one might enjoy a good cup of tea. He may not be able to get physical relief but he still enjoys the mental tingle

Before he died he was a massive slut though, rockstar vibes, every carnal disease you can think off. Was big into having his face ridden and sex under the influence

Too old to understand labels but if you really took the time to explain he'd probably say he was pansexual

Jinbei

This one goes out to my homie 💖

Straight but has no problem with it if swords happen to cross. Which is just as well, since there's canonically two of them 🍆🍆 He'd also never suggest a threesome, but he'd say yes if you suggested it

Also enjoys watching along side Brook. They call it "Oldies Night" when the four of them get together to watch Franky and Robin destroy some sub

Super respectful! Will constantly make sure you're comfortable and allow you to guide him to do whatever feels best

Not big into kinks but happy to explore them if it makes you happy. Won't do anything that'd inflict pain though, even if you beg for it, he's too big of a softie

Has that deep generational sense of taboo and shame instilled in him that makes it hard to get him to open up about what he wants. You'd have to have been together for a really long time to get him to be honest. Even so, makes you feel completely comfortable sharing your own kinks and never ever makes you feel ashamed even if he's really not into it

Eventually you'll get him to reveal that he enjoys being edged and cockwarming

Not a big fan of young girls fawning over him cos of his ex-Warlord status. Much prefers women his own age. No real preference for basic humans vs fishmen vs even minks, they're all human in his books

God he's so strong though, given how much bigger he is than most woman he will straight up use you like a cocksleeve if you ask him to, I absolutely would, dear god

Never leaves a partner unsatisfied, but I think he'd avoid giving oral cos he'd be so anxious about his teeth and he never wants to hurt a lover

[richerlandtv]

So last year when the 15th Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver was revealed...

A lot of people were going on about how it doesn't look enough like a screwdriver. It made me think "well, what does a Sonic Screwdriver look like?" And the more I thought about it, the more I thought, ultimately, you can get away with a lot with the Sonic Screwdriver so long as it's at least cylindrical.

So I opened up Maya and made a bunch of pieces and swapped them in and out until...

I had designed my own Sonic Screwdriver. Quite proud of it, too!

But to fabricate it, all I could really do was 3D print it, and while it's lovely for a hunk of plastic it just doesn't do anything.

So I asked a wizard.

Custom Sonics are absolutely amazing at making Sonic Screwdrivers. I sent them 3D turnarounds, photographs, and design documents and good (time) lord did they knock it out of the park.

Look at this!

It's absolutely beautiful!

Machined in real metal, with brass accents and durable resin grips, and fitted with lights and sound. Its weighty but light, feeling good in the hand.

I feel like it certainly measures up to other Sonic Screwdrivers!

I am so happy and so proud to have this in my collection.

If you want your own Sonic Screwdriver, definitely consider Custom Sonics for replicas, original designs, or to get a quote on your own custom design! (I'm not being paid to advertise, I promise lmao)

About the design:

I wanted this to look like the original Sonic Screwdriver had been built upon over the years, rather than simply being replaced. So there are elements of the Sonic Screwdriver seen in the Classic series acting as a base for the design, with everything else added on over the top.

Thinking of how the Doctor might improve on that original design in-universe, I thought about its weaknesses as an item. The Doctor could easily drop it and it might roll away, so I added a flat-edged grip. It also gets used a lot, so I thought it should have a ventilation system to prevent overheating. There are two sets of vents: the round ones near the top, and more subtle square ones near the grip.

The War Doctor uses the original Sonic Screwdriver but with the emitter head removed. We're never told why, but I like to think this, along with the additional piece added to the base, was done to give it more power. With that in mind, I thought perhaps an even more powerful Sonic Screwdriver - without an emitter ring - would need something to focus and stabilize the sonic waves. The Eleventh Doctor's and Fourteenth Doctor's Sonic Screwdrivers have "petals" which may or may not serve that function. This design has two additional emitters mounted on antennae to focus and stabilize the beam. The emitter head has a screw thread so a new emitter ring can be screwed on. I did design an emitter head, but with the stabilizers, the shape wasn't very satisfying, so that went unfabricated.

The base was left with an opening, which I imagined would allow it to plug into the TARDIS. This worked out well as it left room for Custom Sonics to install a charging port.

The brass rings were inspired by the Dalek Time Controller and The Rani's TARDIS console.

The silvery metallic blue colour was inspired by K-9.

The emerald and brass colours were chosen simply because it's my favourite colour combination. The use of brass was also inspired by clockwork, with its obvious relation to time travel and my own personal enjoyment of clockwork.

So that's my custom Sonic Screwdriver!

[gitsyp]

When the Lights go Out

Chapters:  1/1

Fandom: MCU

Rating:  M

Warnings:  No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships:  Steve Rogers/Darcy Lewis

Characters:  Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers, 

Additional Tags: Pegging, Masturbation, Anal Sex

Summary: When the lights go out, Darcy and Steve find something to fill the time.

Darcy Lewis Bingo 2023 

Card No. / Name on Card: GitsyP

Square: A1- First Time

Darcy Lewis Bingo’s 2023 Halloween Flash Challenge

Card C - The lights go out.

@darcylewisbingohq

“Cold, cold, cold,” Darcy chanted as she buckled up the metal buckles. She shivered as it lay against her naked hip but knew the metal would warm up quickly. A quick shimmy and everything lay where it was supposed to. She double checked herself in the mirror, the lighting eerie as the candles they had set on the counter reflected in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, but what did she expect, but otherwise she looked great. One more boob fluff and she was good. 

She peeked out of the bathroom and had to bite her lip to hold back a groan. 

Steve was lying naked on the bed, one thick leg propped up, slowly stroking himself. His skin seemed to glow in the light of all the candles they had lit in the bedroom. 

It didn't matter how many times she saw him naked, it had the exact same effect on her. Her breathing sped up, her nipples tightened and her panties soaked. Or they would if she was currently wearing any. As it was, she pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache between them.

She watched his expression for a moment, enjoying the tight look of pleasure she saw there, before her gaze drifted down the muscled planes of his chest. His cock was angry and purple, and on every upstroke, Steve squeezed and let his thumb drag over the head of his cock.

Pushing the door open, she smiled as Steve dropped his hand and tried to look nonchalant. 

“Nuh uh, mister. I saw you. You were supposed to stay absolutely still and wait for me.”

With a shrug he resumed his slow tugging of his cock.

“Oh, naughty boy.”

“Whatcha going to do about it, Lewis?”

Darcy climbed onto the bed and slowly crawled up to sit on her heels between his legs. Her black push up was doing its job and the black leather of the straps surrounded her hips, contrasting with her paleness. She stroked the purple dildo strapped to her harness and pretended to think. “Oh I dunno, one or two things come to mind.”

Steve groaned at the picture she presented and gripped his cock a little tighter, squeezing the purpled head and making precum ooze out of it. They had been playing for at least an hour before Darcy had gone into the ensuite to get into the strapon, teasing and prepping his ass and Steve hadn’t come yet. Darcy on the other hand had enjoyed three orgasms.

“God, you’re pretty like that,” he said huskily.

She took the tiniest bit of pity on him and leaned over and took the head of his cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around and getting every last taste of come off of him. She even licked at his fingers before coming off with a pop.

“Back or front?”

Steve took a second to clear the lust filled haze from his brain before he answered. “Front, I wanna see you.”

Her dark red lips spread in a grin before she grabbed a pillow and helped arrange it under him.

They had played with plugs and dildos before but this was a first for them. They had been waiting for the right moment to use the strapon they had picked out together and today seemed to be the perfect opportunity. The power had gone out, and Tony had called in subdued panic to cancel the group get together to watch campy horror films until he managed to figure out what the fuck had happened. Backup power was enough to keep essentials running, like Friday, but apparently Tony didn’t believe that lights were essential.

Steve and Darcy had just gone and found every candle that she owned and sprinkled them around the bedroom and bathroom and made the very best use of their time.

They got Steve arranged how Darcy wanted him and then she leaned forward to give him a long, dirty kiss. He grabbed her ass and ground himself into her belly, the plastic cock pressed between them.

“Still good?” she asked, her breath warm against his cheek.

He nodded, eyes hooded with lust and anticipation. 

She grabbed the lube and slicked the strapon before smearing a little extra onto Steve. He groaned when she dipped her finger a tiny bit into his hole and she smirked. 

Holding on to the slightly flexible phallus, she pressed slowly into his ass.

Steve's breath hitched and she stilled, watching his face. He looked fuckdrunk and desperate, but not like anything was hurting. She pressed the rest of the length in slowly and he let out a long “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Good?”

“Fuck, so good Darce. Move?”

She gripped his thighs firmly and slowly moved her hips in a sinuous rhythm, pulling out a tiny bit before pushing back in. 

Sweat broke out on Steve's chest and he started making needy noises. His eyes kept closing in pleasure before he opened again to stare at where the toy was disappearing into him. His hand slid up from the bed and he started pumping his cock in time with her movements.

“More,” he groaned, and she increased both her speed and her force. The needy noises turned into desperate groans and Steve still matched her pace.

“I’m close,” he grunted out.

Darcy shifted and suddenly it was like she had found the perfect angle, because Steve was swearing and his cock was spurting all over his fist and chest. 

She held still until he relaxed back into the bed, and carefully withdrew. Steve hissed as she did so, but gave her a crooked smile and a shake of the head when she would have asked if he was ok. 

Darcy gave him a soft smile back and then disappeared back into the bathroom where she dumped the entirety of the strapon into the shower. She’d clean it after the lights came back on. They had only set a couple candles in the bathroom by the mirror and there wasn't enough light. She grabbed a washcloth and wet it to bring back out to Steve.

When she came back out, Steve had recovered some. As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed with a growl. Darcy giggled but he pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her breathless. 

She kissed him back but then pulled away with another laugh and let the cloth land on his chest. 

“Fuck Darce, thats cold,” he complained. She just stuck her tongue out at him “It was warm when I came out, you distracted me”, and then wiped him down and let the cloth fall onto the floor with a splat. Then she took off her bra and let it fall next to the cloth before climbing in next to him and pulling the covers up over them both. Steve tucked her in close to him and pressed a kiss against her messy curls.

“That was definitely more fun than whatever slasher fic Tony picked out.”

“Yup,” she hummed, snuggling against his chest, “10/10, would do again.”

He snorted softly but just kissed her head again and they both drifted off to sleep.

[nhaneh]

you know as much as I despise the way ROCCAT SWARM embodies the chrome-powered modern "app" culture and its many Software Crimes, I have to admit I appreciate that it still manages to primarily do only what it is meant to do and not really anything else?

Like here, look at this

now as much as it is overdesigned like absolutely godsdamned hells, it really only does three things:

It manages settings for the ROCCAT devices i have plugged into my system, and...

It manages settings for ROCCAT's combined AIMO lighting engine wotsit.

It checks for updates for any of these and notifies when they are available for download and install.

And that's basically it, that's all it does. And I mean sure, it might sound like an extremely silly thing to appreciate about a piece of software, but I mean... let me show you Steelseries GG.

Look at this bullshit. There's a whole six main tabs to choose from, only one of which I'm actually interested in, or two if we are to be charitable, which is the Engine that handles the actual device(s) I use and possibly Sonar which is... some kind of advanced mixer and equaliser thing for sound I guess?? It even does the same shit Nvidia does with its GEFORCE EXPERIENCE thing where they want you to create an account with your e-mail and stuff if you access even basic features like Updating Your Drivers.

And it's like... I like the hardware, I think they make good kit, but the software is such bullshit that it just makes me want to avoid them. Like the faff with Steelseries GG is a good half of why I swapped my steelseries keyboard for a Keychron one the other half being hot-swappable key switches; rather like the idea of not having to break out the soldering iron whenever a single switch starts failing somewhere.

It's just really frustrating how the enshittification of absolutely everything means so few things are allowed to simply be functional - so many programs are now just "apps" - glorified webpages running on local instances of google chrome with little to no regard towards performance or memory use or any of that sort. It's particularly frustrating as someone who actually does software dev for work because it's just like... do none of these people have even the slightest pride in their work? Does quality mean nothing to them?

Wharrgarbl.

[videokilled]

Vox swore he could feel his digital eyes leave his head with how far they rolled, listening to the red muppet hack up his organs. There was a slight current running down his arms with the irritation and not having enough capacity to care if he lost his temper. Maybe he would just knock him out to keep him resting. Vox wasn’t willing to carry him out.

He couldn't even see Alastor anymore, he didn't have cameras in his cove and the cove was further back than his chair, disrupting the line of sight mostly. Vox had dragged the bed within the cove to keep the sleeping (dead) form in view, leaving the bed obviously askew in the middle of that little cove. But of course Alastor had found a way to dive off of it, roll around like a cat fighting a furball and then sit back on the bed just so, where he was still out of Vox's view. Grating. The beat of silence was almost welcome though, because jesus- did it sound like the radio demon was going through a second death for a bit back there.

The Media demon was just about to get up from his rooted spot to put Red in his line of sight- (because Alastor conscience and present but out of sight was just uncomfortable-) when the last thing on his mind was spoken into the room. Into the space irreverently. Just uttered without a care in the world. Just tossed into the 'conversation' like it was the most logical next topic. As if Vox had rescued him from being black out DRUNK instead of fried through like a bird on a live wire. Hearing it immediately sent several bolts of live current from various places on Vox's arms and screen to the closest conductive pieces near him. And everything here was conductive. As well as currently being plugged into his power grid.

He gave a frankly manic laugh that he had to metaphysically slam a lid on so it didn't spiral into something that would be a blatant overreaction. The lights flickered briefly then went from maybe a dim 60% to 100% the voltage in the cables around them buzzed louder, easily heard now.

There was three audible CHNK noises and the lights flickered again minimally when Vox unplugged the cables from the back of his head, then plunged the area back into dimness, even dimmer than before, but not complete darkness. The shadows were intense though. He was stir crazy from sitting in that chair for three and a half days and if Alastor wanted to pick a stupid fight he could fix his problems fighting too. He had moved from his spot, walking more slow and calculated than he usually did ever, because he was still reeling. He wasn't mad in the way a well orchestrated burn scorned him. This was provocative. Intentional absolutely. Did he want to die again?

The thought of hypothetically considering that act- with him- after all the events of the last few days. After all the mental unrest and unease and… and torment. After all they had done together.

Made him want to bury his claws in that thick skull and bash it against the concrete floor. Or maybe it was just him being overtired.

Vox was visible now in the dim space. His screen looked awful. He had temporarily forgotten its state. The Media demon was walking toward Alastor with little prickles of electricity that danced up his claws and arms and then vanished, almost looking sparkly. His grin was garish and stretched, the gums above and below his shark-like teeth just barely visible in areas where his lip was wrinkled and tense. His right eye that had been gouged out was still clearly nonfunctional. The blotches of dead pixels and chromatic abrasion layered on top of what looked like intense bruising depicted by an OLED screen interfered with the smile. Glitching around and twitching intensely.

“Heh heh.. ask me that again.”

It was of course probable that Alastor simply didn't remember the moments before- and intensity of the kill. He had been dying. But that was beyond Vox in his own compromised state.

Something grated in Vox- nails on chalkbord, when he heard Alastor hit the ground. Vox was over here taking risks, bringing him into his lair, ruining his furniture, ruining his bed, and Alastor was going to get up knowing he couldn't walk- and just hit the ground.

You were fucking dead for a week- give it a whole 10 goddamn minutes.

Vox griped just barely making it to a verbal hiss. He wasn't fucking serious. There was no way the radio demon was serious.

"I hope you knock yourself out." Vox muttered louder and directed at the stupid deer- but honestly shocking himself with how hollow and un-volumetric his voice had been just then. Alastor might not have even heard it, but it at least had some volume too it. Regardless Vox swallowed and cleared his voice quietly to fix that- sounding pitiful thing. He hadn't spoken in the nearly four days that fucker had been out, so that made sense.

He didn't even have an excuse for why he brought Alastor here. There was no advantageous reason for Vox to have brought him here.

Vox just couldn't make another stop, he couldn't think ahead, he didn't have the capacity to weigh all the different options. He had just killed Alastor, his-

Vox was tired. He had been tired- and annoyed.. that was all.

The images in his head of the crumpled smoking heap and the smell- he swore he could still smell it if he thought about it. Maybe it was still in the air. He certainly hadn't changed Alastor out of his charred clothing.

He knew Alastor was going to ask why he had brought him here in some obtuse abstract needling way and he had to have an answer. Thinking of one was only made it obvious that maybe sleep was important in this- and maybe he should have slept. The cables plugged into his head were like a caffeine pill. They were definitely no substitute for sleep, but they sure did make it feel obsolete.

One of Vox's hands finally stiffly moved from where it had been on the side of his chair, to his face and just rubbed at the flat pane of his screen over his busted up eye. It was aching and throbbing something awful and felt like it was taking up all of his present capacity to have any amount of clever thought. To some extent he wanted to savor having Alastor here. The rare and niche scenario making some kind of weird violence truce- or maybe that was just the thoughts from earlier spreading their diseased nostalgia with him being too worn down to fight it back. And it was…

The ruminating once again taking another chip from his dwindling energy without coming up with a single thing to say in his defense of why the fuck he'd brought that radio demon back here. And put him on his own bed.

He should have just dumped him on the floor and let it be. At least that would have been one less thing to explain away.

Maybe he should just kill him a second time to make good on dumping him in some random fucking cave. Seemed like Alastor preferred rock ground to high thread count bedding anyway.

This got a tiny little chuckle out of Vox, just quietly.

[asjjohnson]

What if Danny's more powerful than he realizes? And what if the Fentons don't pay an electric bill?

The Fenton parents knew their ghost portal and other experiments would take a lot of energy.

The ecto-converter wasn't the first of its kind.

Of course not. It was just their latest model—a more portable, more universal model.

They had always had an energy converter and overflow storage container built into their ghost portal. Their electricity bills would have been through the roof otherwise.

They had temporarily plugged in several cords to provide enough electricity to power the portal on, but, once it was open, they had always planned on sapping the ambient ghostly energy to keep it running.

It had worked perfectly. In fact, they hadn't received an electric bill since.

Within a month, someone from the electric company had investigated, scratched their head in confusion, replaced their meter. And, when the new meter never changed from the row of zeros, the company shut off their service.

Not that the Fentons noticed. They weren't using it anyhow.

---

Danny had struggled to control his new ghost powers. He worked hard to learn them, and slowly built up his stamina and strength.

He'd always barely won his fights, only just managing to be good enough.

He viewed himself as being of average strength. He was on the same level as the other ghosts he's met.

The only reason he'd defeated Pariah Dark was that suit's 100x power boost (or had it said 100%? he wasn't too great at math), and he'd been completely drained afterward. Everyone knew Pariah Dark was above and beyond any other ghost. Undefeatable. Danny definitely wouldn't have expected to win in a fair fight, and hadn't been sure he even could with the suit.

He'd defeated his alternate future self, but that was mostly due to his parents' gadgets (plus his resolve to never turn into him). The guy hadn't even been that powerful—he was just a slightly older version of Danny, after all. There was no reason to think being away from home for a day would make Danny stronger, or that his alternate self being under the Fenton Works' roof for a day would make him weaker.

Besides, he's been away from home other times and nothing had changed then. Like when he and his mom were stranded in Colorado. ...Yeah, he'd been wearing a specter deflector most of the time—but still. And his dad and sister hadn't mentioned the power going off back home, and if Danny were powering their house, then of course the lights would've gone out. It's not like a bunch of ghosts would've randomly shown up at the house, just to recharge their battery or something.

And there was also that time his whole family had taken a vacation out west and left the house alone for days. Even with his parents putting Fenton Works in low power mode, everything would've shut off before they'd gotten back. It's not like, say, Vlad had come over to bug their house, and then spent hours upon hours with a bunch of his ghost stooges digging through his parents' blueprints and research ...right?

He could think of at least three ways, right off the top of his head, Vlad could've found out they were going on a trip, and he does not want to think about that.

Aaanyhow... the point is—there is absolutely no reason that him going to college in Florida would lead to, after just his second day of classes, his family being completely without electricity. Or for his eyes to start glowing bright green even in his human form, or his hair to start floating on its own, or for ghosts to start showing up from ghost portals that keep appearing around Danny for no reason and those ghosts bowing to him, or any of the other crazy things going on right now!?!!?1!

Seriously—what is going on?!??!!!!

[wonderful-wells-writing]

Fanclub; Chapter 1

EoWells x Reader

Some of the STAR Labs employees have a secret fanclub where they discuss Harrison Wells and share pictures they take when they think he isn't looking. Problem is it's not quite as secret as they think it is. The man himself seems to have taken an interest in the the little group, finding it to be the perfect place to find willing partners to satisfy his needs. And you're his next pick.

Work is dying down for the evening at STAR Labs. Chemists are checking that all the storage units are set to the proper temperatures. Engineers are making sure that everything that needs to be powered down is. Lab techs are cleaning up their stations. But nearly everybody is discussing their plans for the weekend.

There is one worker who is not engaging in such conversations. You are currently crammed between two sections of machinery, determined to get this wiring finished before leaving for the day. That way, Monday, bright and early your team can start doing test runs.

You are not engaging in conversation with others but rather are talking to yourself as you work. “Some red over here, blue wire over there.” Your grin would light up the room if anybody could see it. “I just love when a color-coded array comes together.” There’s a buzz on your right butt-cheek, and you squeal in surprise.

“Everything alright in there?” One of the other scientists looks up from the desk.

“Yeah, Bri,” you extract yourself from the machine parts. “My phone just went off, and I thought something shocked me.”

“Girl, I can not tell you how often that happens to me,” Bri takes her purse from a drawer and a jacket off the chair. “So, what are your plans for the weekend. More number crunching?”

You pull your phone from your back pocket. “Actually my college roommate is having a bachelorette party tonight. So I said I would swing by the bar for a bit.”

“Sounds fun,” Bri gives a wave before heading to the door. “Don’t party too hard.”

She returns the wave before opening a group chat app on her phone to see what the notification is about.

KittyCat42; O.M.G did you see Dr. Wells today? a shirt THAT tight can not be workplace appropriate!!!

Attached is a photo taken from a smartphone at an angle in which the subject does not seem to be aware their picture is being taken. Dr. Harrison Wells is leaning over a desk, examining something on a monitor. Kitty is right; his shirt is very tight, his biceps bulge through the long black sleeves.

You grin, considering sending a reply, but another message comes in first.

YummyBitch73; Think he’s got plans? Looking that good, he’s got to be going out tonight.

Your thumbs move across the screen to type a quick response.

BabyDoll14; Maybe he has a date tonight?

KittyCat42; wonder who the lucky girl is?

You lean against a nearby workbench, smirking at the screen.

---

On the other side of the lab, somebody picks up their phone to check the barrage of notifications coming in. They chuckle before adding their own two cents.

Speedy22: Hey, who knows, it could be a lucky guy.

YummyBitch73: Oh you wish, he is a lady killer through and through

BabyDoll14: I mean, who are we to judge if it’s a lucky lady or gent. Maybe he swings one way, maybe he swings both ways. Who cares, we’re just here to talk about his ass behind his back.

“Speedy’ nods, almost respecting the woman on the other side of the screen for staying objective about objectifying her boss.

Speedy22: Speaking of ass, I got this one yesterday

He opens his gallery and scrolls until an ‘appropriate picture is found. A nice shot of Dr. Wells from behind; the quality is incredible for a smartphone shot. The man’s shirt is riding up, showing a nice strip of the skin of his back, even a bit of where his boxers rise above the waistband of his hands.

YummyBitch73: Damn Speedy, you always get the good ones. You’ll have to teach me some photography lessons sometime.

KittyCat42: what kind of camera are you using? The quality is so gooooood.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice draws his attention away from his device. “Are you staying late again tonight?”

Harrison Wells takes a breath to look her up and down, mentally running through his mind all the employees to try and remember who it is at his office door. “I’ll be headed out soon; I just have to wrap some things up.”

He recalls who she is when he sees the look she’s giving him. Brianna Masters, a specialist working down in Lab C. She would have had to go out of her way to get to his office before leaving. Self-proclaimed president of the Dr. Wells Fanclub, he had just been interacting with the group chat of; after the former president left with a job offer at Mercury Labs. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him since her interview three months ago.

“Well,” Bri twirls a curl of her hair, fluttering her eyelashes. “Harrison, you know I was wondering if you might like to take me out to get some drinks tonight?”

Dr. Wells tries to hide his displeasure at the thought. She wasn’t his type, physically, mentally, emotionally, “I have plans in the morning that require a clear head. Miss. Masters. Now is there anything of importance that you need?” The man was not adverse to flights of fancy to pass the time; he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the little Fanclub of his if he wasn’t willing to look for ‘interested parties,’ but this particular woman has been of no real interest to him.

For reasons such as how she pouts at his response, “Well, having fun is important.” She mutters before wandering off down the hall, turning her attention to her phone.

YummyBitch73; holy Shit! He just asked me out for drinks. It sucks so much that I have to drive out to Coast City; I”d have taken him up in a heartbeat otherwise.

----

Back in Lab C, you finally finish with the maintenance on the machine. You check your phone once more while heading over to the desk and nearly cackle at what you’re reading. Everybody knows that Bri is full of shit, but there’s no point in calling it out and causing discourse.

You mute the phone to focus on your computer. While humming a quiet tune, you work on moving files to the USB stick plugged into the monitor.

“Fuck,” you whisper, seeing the download time in comparison to the clock on the screen. Of course, you could just leave it be, take the weekend off. It’s not like you get paid extra to run calculations at home.

17 minutes later

“Nonononono, wait, please!” You’re half running to the street as the bus pulls away, leaving you in the illuminated circle of a streetlamp, cursing yourself. That was going to be the last bus coming this way for the night. If you walk home, you’ll never make it in time to change for the party. You might not even make the event at all. You pace up and down the sidewalk, contemplating your options.

A car pulls up beside you, tinted window rolling down, “Need a lift?”

You stop, shocked, “Oh, no I…” you pause, looking through the window, “Dr. Wells, hi...hey.” You swallow your pride. “I would really love to get a ride on-with, with you.” Internally you cringe at how that came out, but figure he probably wouldn’t have heard such a minor slip.

The lock clicks open, and you reach for the door.

“Maple Apartments on South 11th street, right?” Harrison glances at you as you get in the car.

You pause before shutting the door, “do I want to know how you know that?”

He laughs, and you jump a bit at it, “I can see how that would sound a little suspicious.” His smile is reassuring, and his blue eyes are kind behind his glasses. “It was on your registration forms when you started. I enter new employee data myself. Total recall can be useful even for small matters.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shutting the door and buckling in. “I really appreciate this Dr. Wells, I would have been so late tonight if I didn’t get home to change soon.”

“Bit plans tonight?” Harrison asks as he starts driving. Truth is he had suspected you’d be missing her bus. He had seen you running after the last bus or driven past you walking home numerous times out his way out. You had quite the habit of working until the absolute last moment.

You smile, twiddling your thumbs to keep your hands occupied. “Yeah, I’m meeting a friend at the new bar that opened down the street from my place. She’s getting married soon, and since I can’t make the wedding, I promised I would spend at least a couple hours at her bachelorette party.” You aren’t exactly sure why you’re volunteering this information to your boss. It would be inappropriate to be so casual with him; then again, it’s also inappropriate to be part of a Fanclub that secretly takes pictures of him and talks about how great his ass looks.

Harrison ‘hmms’ in thought. “Why can’t you make it to the wedding?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to take in the way you sit, act, look, before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, they scheduled it for a Wednesday, so,” you look towards him just moments after he looks away. The first thing you notice is his hair; whenever you’ve seen him in the morning, it’s perfectly combed and straight, but it seems like as the day went on, it began to take on a life of its own. While the back is still nice and neat, the front is sticking out in all kinds of directions.

“You could have asked for the day off,” Dr. Wells offers, “Am I such a terrible boss that you think I”d deny you some vacation after all your hard work?”

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks at what seems to be a compliment to her work ethic, “Oh no, I don’t think that at all. It’s just that, well, we have so much work to do. Every day we get a little closer to your dreams of the particle accelerator, and I want to contribute absolutely everything I can to that dream.” You smile. “You’re going to do such incredible things for the world of science Dr. Wells, and I don’t want to waste any time that could be spent helping you.”

The man is somewhat stunned by this. He’d attributed her long hours and determination to personal ambition. “What about you? Do you want history to remember you for your achievements?”

You bite your lower lip in thought at the question, “I mean sure, it would be nice to be recognized for my contribution, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m more concerned about how my work will impact the world, not so much if I’m remembered for it. Anyways you’re the true genius. I can tell that STAR Labs will make big changes and put humanity on a path towards the future. As long as I get to be a part of that, it’s all I really need.”

Harrison does a low chuckle at your sentiment, amused by the naivety. You speak with such hope and wonder and admiration. If you knew the truth, how horrified would you be? The realization of the end goal of the particle accelerator, the effects across history that your determination would wreak.

He grins, “Well, I am glad to have such a dedicated employee, but I do believe that one off day is not going to hurt our progress.”

You purse your lips, “You don’t come down to Lab C very often; you’d be surprised how off the rails things can go when I’m not there. Anyways I would rather work than go to a wedding. It’s not my kind of scene.”

He can sense that you are holding something back but doesn’t press the issue any further. He’s reached your apartment building anyways.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to give you the time off,” he says as he parks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reach for the door handle, “oh, and thank you so much for the ride. I really owe you one.”

Dr. Wells makes a mental note about cashing in that favor later. “You just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight.” He smiles warmly at you as you wave goodbye, but when the door shuts, his grin turns a bit darker. He watches you walk away, eyes tracing the curve of your figure, resting on the beautiful shape of your rear, right up until you disappear into your building.

As he begins to drive away, he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror. There is something about this form of his that seems to drive the ladies crazy, and he wasn’t opposed to taking advantage of that. While pulling back into the street and driving away, he thinks on his situation.

For 13 years now, Eobard Thawne has been trapped in this god-forsaken time period. For a while, he had focused solely on his mission, rarely interacting with others unless it served a greater purpose. But he was still a man, subject to desire. At first, it was almost enough to make him regret allowing Harrison Well’s wife to die, she could have filled his needs easily. But that woman had been intelligent; she’d have discovered his identity eventually, so allowing her to die had been for the best.

Still, after a few years of isolation, Thawne had found the need unbearable and began seeing ways to fill the hole that was forming in his chest. Little flings, one-off nights where he indulged his carnal side, allowed himself the pleasure of another’s body before quickly parting ways with them, when he discovered that a fanclub devoted to him had been formed amongst his employees, that made the whole thing easier.

Joining the group chat under a false name was easy enough. It inflated his ego every time he read them discussing how great they thought he looked, and he was more than happy to provide material for them to gush over. And with that, it was like he had been given a list of women who would fuck him with no questions asked. All he had to do was choose. Of course, he has to be wary of those who might get too clingy or go off telling other people. But it’s not that hard to week those types out of the pack.

Thawne notices magenta neon as he’s driving. A club with a grand opening sign out front. He smiles, knowing that now not only does he have a new prey lure in, but the perfect hunting ground as well.

[debbiebeary]

Disgust and Ecstacey

3

Hayden’s belly jiggled and wobbled violently in the dim, hippy light of the room. The combination of the incense and marijuana haze made the doughy expanse of his body appear even softer and more rounded. The curtains were slightly drawn and in the light was a smoky beam, the rest of the room was lit by red string lights and a few kitschy lamps.

In Hayden’s chunky arms, arms with those beautiful biceps that mushed up against his moobs into a cellulity pillow, he carried Ben and Jerries, peanut butter sandwiches, and some bananas (hey, digestion is important, ok?)

“Alright little britches” said Hayden, time to get to three hundred!” He said as his uncovered belly, lightly shined with sweat, surged forward even more as he added to the snacks already present on the table (chocolate, korean fried chicken and potato chips).

Dillon laughed.

“Oh come on I only reached two fifty yesterday!”

“Only two fifty!?” Cried a voice from across the swirling aromatic haze.

“Only two fifty?!” He repeated, standing up and revealing his own two hundred seventy pound form, he put his meaty paws onto his lightly dark furred, pear shaped body and gave it a strong jiggle, “That’s forty pounds since you arrived, it’s only been a month and a half! If you keep it up you’ll be bigger than me!”

Dillon looked down at his stretchmark covered gut and heaving moobs, which themselves had stretchmarks emerging near the armpits and also stretchmarks on his biceps too. His growth surely exceeded his own expectations. And it didn’t help that Garry, whom was the coffee shops resident chaser turned chub himself, was always feeding Dillon super creamy specialty coffees free of charge throughout his shift.

“Yeah. Who knows,” he began, a smug grin forming between his fattening cheeks and burgeoning double chin, both beginning to dominate his features even under his thickening beard, “perhaps I will hit three hundred.”

“Well it isn’t a matter of ‘if’, it’s a matter of ‘when’. And either way,” Hayden paused to toke the joint he just lit, stifling a cough before he continued, “either way, you gotta eat to make that happen, pig.” And without warning he took a peanut butter sandwich and crammed into an unsuspecting Dillon’s fattening maw. Garry wore a lascivious smirk on his face as he yet again watched Hayden work his gluttonous magic on Dillon.

“Remember!” the three hundred fifty pound blonde stud mumbled after tearing a massive chunk out of his own sandwich, “we match each other bite for bite, no matter what” he continued, swallowing the mouthful into his growling, churning tank, giving it an emphatic slap.

Dillon chewed and swallowed his own mouthful,

“Yes big bear-“

But he was interrupted by Hayden once again plugging his airways with the second half of the sandwich.

Dillon could feel the scale shattering beneath his feet already.

Again and again, handfuls of chocolate brownies, of chips, fried chicken (with an inspired melted Velveeta American cheese dip) were shoved into the awaiting Dillon's mouth by the bronze skinned, blonde haired hunky blob. Though Garry was the bottom, Hayden, a versatile boy who when he was a top, was a very dominant top. This extended to feeding.

Though Hayden was attracted to Dillon, he found force feeding him aggressively to be somehow even more… penetrating. More satisfying than the thought of fucking him ever could be. He was morphing Dillon’s body, potentially towards a permanent absolution. He may never go back to the way he was before the summer began.

Dillon could see the twisted thrill in Hayden’s eyes as he crammed in handful after handful and despite the overstuffed pain in his abdomen he kept opening his mouth, begging again and again for the ruin of his once athletic form.

Hayden had heard tales of the pretentious condescension of Brian. Of his prideful taste in skinny boys, his carbon-copied preferences. In this a dark desire lay, one in which to sever Dillon from his obnoxious fuckbuddy. All he would need were calories and time.

Of which he incidentally had both.

“Damn Hayden, you’re turning him into a blimp!”

“Bwaaap!” Was Hayden’s guttural reply, “ugh, fuck. S’cuse me! Turning myself into a blimp while I’m at it too, don’t ya think Gerry boy?”

Gerry was too busy drooling at them both with big horny puppy eyes to respond, but Hayden’s smile curled with smug deviousness.

Eventually the snacks dwindled until nothing was left and Dillon's already stretchmark laden gut was now bright red and itchy with swelling.

Hayden smacked Dillon’s belly, causing him to wince,

“Fuck!”

“Sorry fatboy, couldn’t help myself, you look like you got a full litter in there.”

“Yeah. A hundred food babies in one. Feel like imma puke.”

Hayden snatched a lit joint that Gerry was enjoying and popped it in Dillon’s mouth, Dillon sucked in frantically,

“Make yourself useful, Gerry. Rub his belly with some of that CBD/tiger balm concoction I made, can’t have him purging all these beautiful calories now can we?”

“N-no sir!” Said Gerry, Gerry always turned into a bitch when Hayden threw his weight around.

“Good boy. Alright Dillon, just hold tight,”

“Uuuuhh. Ok. No I can have that last drumstick then we’re done, I’d rather get this over with and just have some cuddles after.”

“Yeah alright, big dude.”

Hayden let Dillon sink his teeth into the glistening red drumstick, courtesy of the local fried chicken restaurant, Han Ten, Han for the name of the chubby korean bear who owned the pace, ten for ten different glazes. Toasted Perilla, butter honey, spicy, lemon, sweet and sour etcetera. They even had a Ghanaian spicy peanut butter based sauce that was a real zinger. But the one they had was the hybrid honey butter/gochujang ketchup, the K-Supreme with American Cheese Dip, toasted garlic chips and green onions to finish, Dillon’s favourite thing in the world besides Hayden’s succulent puckered-in belly button.

Dillon, after finishing the last bite, let out a rather meaty burp and panted out:

“That’s it, all done…” struggling to breathe, “but it isn’t as bad as last time, uuurap, I’m feeling waaay less sick now, Hayden?”

Hayden was in the kitchen, the fridge door shining it’s menacing white light upon Hayden’s summer- bronzed, food-speckled gut. When Hayden caught Dillon's eye reflected in it was his own evil scheming.

From the glowing gainers bastion of the fridge, like an amulet or treasure of untold power, Hayden withdrew a gallon of chocolate milk.

“Uurp! Fuck, no Hayden that’s pushing it too far! There is no way, mmmlf!”

“Hahaha, you like this funnel? Just got it,” but Dillon managed to spit it out

“Hayden no! Even splitting it it’s way too much for me! I’m too packed!”

Hayden’s face took on a demonic appearance as, with the sun now fully set, the red lights stretched the shadows across his face into l demented forms.

“Whoah, shit this is strong weed.” Dillon suddenly remarked,

“Yeah I cut it with a bit of salvia too, gives everything a nice… twinkle.”

“Well I’m not sure ooouhf!” Hayden shoved the tube back into Dillon's mouth,

“You didn’t let me finish… I’m not splitting this with you, you’re taking ALL OF IT!”

“Whoah, Hayden! You sure? He seems pretty full.”

“He’ll be fine once you get your lips wrapped around his cock, Garry.”

Garry grew quiet.

“RIGHT GERRY!?!”

“Yes sir…”

“Good boy… ok Dillon, open up your throat and GUZZLE! Garry. Uh. Do the same.”

As Garry face planted Dillon’s dick, Dillon was reinvigorated and began to suck down the sweet chocolaty goodness. Garry was a master, sucking Dillon’s meaty head, flicking his slit with his tongue, and deepthroating him like a pro, he never let Dillon get used to his w and was building up to a climax rapidly.

“Yeah you fat fuck, we keep this up you’ll be 400 in no time.”

Dillon moaned. The Gallon was now only half.

“Come on tubbs, you know you want it, you want to beach yourself on the couch and eat and smoke and drink until you’re nothing but a big fat whale.” The gallon was empty but still Dillon sucked on the tube.

“Greedy pig. You still want more?”

withdrawing the tube from Dillon’s mouth, his tortured stomach released a torrent of pressure as Dillon sprayed out a fat wet belch which rolled across the hazy apartment like thunder.

“UUURRRRP!”

In the same moment Hayden, smirking demonically, leaned down and pinched Dillon’s nipple, Dillon convulsed and shot his load, hosing down Garry’s throat with his seed.

“FUUUUCK!” He screamed in agonizing pleasure.

Garry nearly choked on Dillon’s load.

“Holy fuck. Looks like Dillon isn’t the only one that sucked down a gallon of sweet nectar, eh Garry?”

Garry let out a burp of his own before responding.

“I’d say it’s rather more savory but yeah. Basically.”

“Come on, help this fat fuck up, I wanna weigh him.”

“Urrp, fuck guys won’t you give me a second?”

“No fucking way, I wanna see the damage we did, let’s go tubbs!”

After laboring them to the bathroom, they made him stand unaided, swaying dizzily under his own strength after a few minutes of assistance, finally the scale read out its deliberation.

Hayden screamed in disbelief:

“FUCK ME! Two sixty five!?!”

[crybabykiko]

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈���𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Make or Break (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki and the reader are paired up for a mission to sneak into a newly discovered Hydra facility. If they are successful, S.H.I.E.L.D. may promote the reader to allow them on a larger variety of missions.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 6,831

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some cursing, violence, mentions of blood and injury

A/N: I lied on the word count when I posted the excerpt. I touched the text again trying to review for the millionth time.

Masterlist

Leaning back in your seat, you perused the tablet holding the mission information for the fourteenth time. It was supposed to be quick and simple, but it didn’t mean you should be any less prepared. Sneak into the newly discovered HYDRA base, download the data, extract the target and get back to headquarters in one piece. You’re only worry was who S.H.I.E.L.D. paired you with to complete this mission, the god who neglected to attend the briefing. You had worked with Black Widow and Hawkeye before, but that was it. You were a lower-level field agent whose clearance did not allow for you to go on the bigger missions with the other Avengers. No teaming up with super humans, gods or tech wizards for you. Or so you thought.

Your superiors thought it was a great idea for you to tag along with Loki this time. He had been a tentative Avenger for about five years now and was trusted enough to go on solo missions. Even though he could do this mission perfectly well on his own, you knew exactly why you were there. It was a test. You had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for a few years and were due for a promotion soon, but one you had to prove you were ready for. If everything went well, your ranking would be elevated and you’d be going on the higher priority missions. Loki had unwittingly become the key to success. The rumors were he was notoriously hard to work with, and if a person could successfully complete a mission with him, they were ready to be promoted. However, that rarely happened. Most of the agents Loki had been teamed with wound up either leaving for good or asking for a desk job, regardless of how successful they were.

You lowered the tablet as Loki strode with the grace and confidence of a panther onto the Quinjet. Instead of picking a seat, he came to a halt in front of you. Straining your neck, you kept your gaze up and locked with his. You may have been sitting but the man had no right being so tall. He was absolutely trying to intimidate you, to break you in that moment. You wondered if all the talk about him being difficult were true. Despite both of you working at S.H.I.E.L.D., you had only met in passing. You can’t exactly get a good read on someone’s personality when the only time you see them is at the other end of the hall. The most you two had ever done was a quick nod of acknowledgment before going back to work.

“Agent,” he finally spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Loki,” you nodded like usual.

He took the seat across from you without breaking eye contact. You desperately wanted to return to your tablet. He was turning you into a nervous wreck, but you would not let him know that. Letting your stubbornness win, you kept up the staring contest that could have lasted an eternity. It was only when the Quinjet lifted off that he nodded back, a book appearing with a green shimmer in his hand to steal his attention away from you. Quietly letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you returned to the mission information.

The Quinjet touched down a ways from the HYDRA base in a forest clearing. For the sake of stealth, you had to go on foot for the rest. Reaching the edge of the forest, you and Loki scoped out the area containing what looked like an abandoned building. You knew better though. Your intel suggested there were a handful of basement levels where the HYDRA operatives were working. It also didn’t help that they had tiny, mostly well-concealed cameras around the building. That was the first hurdle.

Crouching in the grass behind the trees, you pulled open one of the pouches on your utility belt for the device you were going to need. Connecting it to the main wiring for the outside cameras would allow you to fake the feed so it would playback only recent footage, preventing their security from seeing you enter. All they could possibly notice is a slight flicker on their screens when the connection was made. With the device in hand and powered up, you looked to Loki. Surely he had seen these before working with the other agents. With a tilt of his head, motioned for you to keep quiet and close. He waved his hands over to two of you, a green mist shrouding you and tingling your face momentarily, and was on the move, stepping out into the clearing.

You tailed Loki as closely as possible without stepping on his heels. He had used some sort of invisibility charm to conceal you both, but you had no idea what kind of distance from him was allowed to keep it working. Reaching the building, you followed Loki around the perimeter until you found the mounted box that acted as the juncture for camera wirings. Running from the bottom of the box into the ground was the main wiring casing. You placed your device on the PVC casing and held it in place as it cut through the tube. When it finished, you pressed the button to lock it in place and waited for it to attach to the right wires, the device flashing green briefly when it finished. Thank the gods for Stark and his technology making things easier.

Locating a side door, Loki opened it a sliver to peer inside before ushering you to slide inside. Once you two were in, he gently pulled the door shut. Unsurprisingly, the area was like an empty warehouse and yet oddly clean. Had the building truly been abandoned, dust and cobwebs would have adorned the tall, industrial shelving and its contents. Slinking through the aisles, you managed to find the elevator with stairs nearby leading to the lower levels. You both silently agreed on the stairs.

Basement floor one was fairly sparse, but still held a few HYDRA agents on patrol. What you needed was probably down a couple of levels for security reasons. It was on the third basement level where things were getting more interesting. There still weren’t many people on this floor, but there was more variety. Men in officer uniforms and lab coats occupied these halls. Loki led the way under the subpar lighting for the next phase. You needed to find a terminal where you could plug in the flash-drive you were assigned and run the program for data extraction.

Spotting one near a large set of imposing doors, you tapped Loki’s arm to point him in the right direction. His reaction was somehow both predictable and surprising. He snapped his head around with an incredulous look on his face like how dare you touch him. Arching an eyebrow, you challenged him and pointed to the terminal console. A touch of tension rippled away from his shoulders as he huffed softly, leading you in the new direction. At the terminal, you inserted the drive and typed in the commands to run the program. As you waited for it to finish, you searched for information on the target’s location. All you had received in briefing and the mission files was the person’s name was Timothy Lawrence. Hopefully, that would be enough to find him in the database.

As you were scanning through anything that could be relevant, you were suddenly snatched away, shoved against the unforgiving metal wall and chest-to-chest with Loki. You were about to protest when you heard footsteps clopping in your direction. Making yourself as small as possible, you flattened yourself against the wall which allowed for Loki to bring himself closer. Although you were still invisible, it was only a visual trick. Sound or touch would shatter the illusion. A scientist and guard rounded the corner, not paying heed to the console, and passed through the doors next to it.

Relaxing slightly when the doors swished shut, you ducked under Loki’s arm to return to the console. You found a list of test subjects, and sifted through the test subject numbers until you stumbled on the one that was close.

Subject: 604

Initials: T.H.L.

Sex: Male

Age: 6

Location: 409

None of the other initials had fully matched the name you were given, so the chances this was the target were slightly more favorable. You closed out your search and the data extraction finished about thirty seconds later. Swiping and tucking the flash drive away safely, you nodded to Loki who immediately headed back to the stairs and brought you down to the fourth basement floor.

While creeping around the lower level to locate the correct room, dread gurgled in your stomach. You had heard of HYDRA’s child experiments, but actually being in its presence was entirely different. The kid was only six. What the hell were they doing to him and why? And did S.H.I.E.L.D. know how old the target was and not divulge that information to you? Wouldn’t that be important? You had to shake your head to bring yourself out of your self-made rabbit hole. Those questions could be answered later. You needed to focus on finding the kid and getting him out.

Loki stopped suddenly, you almost running into him. He gave you a pointed look and rolled his eyes. You had reached your destination. You pressed the button to the side of the door, allowing it to slide open. The room was filled with computers, some life monitoring systems. Those were alongside a table where an unconscious, small boy was strapped down. Loki closed the door and with a snap of his fingers, cancelled the invisibility charm as you made your way to check on the kid. His little eyes shot open upon hearing Loki, pupils dilating with fear and panic.

“Shhh... It’s alright,” you cooed softly, holding your palms out in front of you. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The little boy stilled, confusion transitioning to tentative understanding. That was until he saw Loki. A strangled squeak barely breached his throat. He struggled against his restraints, looking like he wanted to phase through the table to get away. You turned to Loki who held his hands up and backed away, the hurt clearly evident on his face.

“Hey, look at me.” You reached for the boy slowly, but his eyes were still focused on Loki. You cupped his face between your hands. “He’s with me.”

His eyes darted back to you, still scared out of his mind.

“Timothy, right?”

He nodded with tears threatening to soak his face.

“He’s working with the Avengers now. He’s here to help.” You brushed his matted hair away from his sweat slicked forehead. “We are getting you out of here. You’ll be safe, okay?”

He nodded again with a sniffle. You looked back at Loki and waved him over. Making himself as non threatening as he could manage, he stepped to the other side of the table. You two worked on undoing the padded restraints. Once free, you helped Timothy sit up, his arms shaking like a leaf in the wind. How long had he been kept like this? He could barely support the upper half of his body. If if arms were this bad, you didn’t even want to know how badly his legs atrophied.

“Here.” You spun around so your back was facing the table. “I’ll carry you.”

Loki strode over to help Timothy drape his arms over your shoulders and kept him in position as you hooked your arms under his legs to hold him up. Ready to be back on the move, Loki placed his invisibility charm over the three of you. He led you back through the compound only stopping to keep you all from running into HYDRA agents. It wasn’t until you had reached the stairs on the third floor when the alarms went off. You and Loki looked at each other momentarily before booking it. Between the sirens and pounding feet, it’s not like you needed to worry about being quiet anymore.

Dodging various agents sprinting up and down the stairs, you made it to the ground floor which was now filled with armed guards to prevent your escape. Thankfully, they still could not see you, but you needed to get past them to reach any of the doors. Loki pulled you to the side behind some shelving, cloning himself in the process. His now visible clone teleported near the guards who proceeded to fire at it. The distraction allowed you to sneak back out the side door, but the door slamming shut did not go unnoticed. You were almost into the forest when the agents funneled out of the building, showering you with bullets.

With the illusion broken, Loki slowed to place himself in between you and the agents, raising a barrier to stop the bullets. Timothy clung to your suit as tightly as his little hands could, his whimpers barely audible over the gunfire and shouting. The Quinjet was just becoming visible through the trees and brush.

Stumbling once or twice, you glanced back to try to catch his attention. “We’re almost there, Buddy,” you huffed. “Just keep holding on.”

He nodded as he shoved his face in your shoulder. The ramp to the Quinjet lowered as you reached the clearing. Not waiting for it to lock in place, you hopped onto the ledge with Loki hot on your heels. While you settled Timothy into a seat, Loki closed the ramp and informed the pilot to lift off. The cacophony of bullets pinging the jet like clanging pots and pans grew quieter as you took off for home.

You let out a sigh of relief and slumped in your seat, an arm wrapped around Timothy who had curled into your side. The older sibling in you, a roll that had been ripped from you all too early in life, took over as you gingerly carding your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. Being so focused on the kid, you almost missed Loki giving you an appraising look. He was standing near the cockpit, watching you two curiously. With a sudden furrow of his brow, he strode over and knelt next to you.

“You’re injured,” he stated before you could get a word out about his strange behavior.

“What’re you talking about?” You looked down to find a small trail of blood originating from your left calf. That was when you finally felt it. The adrenaline-fueled chase must have fogged up your brain enough for you to not notice you had been shot.

Loki lifted your leg to get a better look, you hissing in pain as he did. You did your best not to squirm so you wouldn’t wake Timothy from his well-deserved rest. Your free hand gripped the edge of the seat. Had you not been wearing gloves, Loki would have seen your knuckles turn white.

Materializing one of his knives, he carefully cut and removed the offending pants leg that blocked his attempt to tend to your wound. “I will need to remove the bullet,” he said, returning to his feet to grab the first-aid supplies.

Grimacing at the thought, you shook your head. “Let’s just throw some antiseptic on it and wrap it. The bullet can wait until we get back.”

“Tch. Stubborn mortal,” he scoffed. “It will only be worse for you if we do that.”

He returned to your side with the supplies. He paused to look up at you and then Timothy. Placing a glowing green palm on the boy’s forehead, he muttered something in an unrecognizable language.

“There. Now he won’t be disturbed for the next few hours.”

Without giving you a chance to protest further, he cleaned your wound before starting on the bullet. Luckily, for both of you, it was not too deep. You still tore off a glove to bite down on in an attempt to not focus on the pain, but it could have been worse. Loki was surprisingly gentle throughout the whole ordeal. Although, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t just use his magic. Had he exhausted his abilities having used them for most of the mission?

A light squeeze to your knee brought you back to reality. Loki had finished wrapping your leg and proceeded to sit himself on the other side of Timothy. You tried to stay awake to keep an eye on the peaceful boy in case he woke up. After several times of you catching Loki watching you and Timothy, you gave up and allowed sleep to overtake you.

Timothy stirred when the Quinjet touched down, your arm still around his tiny frame. Moving to stand and prepare to leave, you felt his fingers dig into your suit, not ready to part from you just yet. Instead, you pulled him into your lap and stood to carry him out, ignoring the leg that caused a slight limp in your gait. As if on cue, his limbs wrapped around you like a spider monkey. Meeting you as you exited the jet was a medical team. A nurse swept in to take Timothy with them to the med bay, but Loki placed himself in front of you. The nurse stepped back fearfully bumping into one of her teammates. The crew looked at a loss of what to do until Agent Hill stepped through the doors.

Sighing, she motioned you inside. “Let’s get him to the medical wing.”

What an odd locomotive you all made moving down the halls. Hill was in lead with you following directly behind her. Loki stayed close to you, a hand ghosting your back between your shoulder blades. The medics were in last as they tried to keep up without getting too close to Loki. Timothy shifted in your arms like he was trying to get more comfortable. Rubbing his back, you pressed forward. What you weren’t able to see was that he kept peering up at Loki with the smallest, shyest possible smile.

Finally reaching the room the medical team was going to perform a checkup on the kid, you set him down on the bed, but he still wasn’t ready to let go. You were able to pull away just enough to see his face. He didn’t seem quite as scared but it was clear he was not fond of the medics. While some wore scrubs, the rest had lab coats that were too similar to the HYDRA scientists.

“They aren’t here to hurt you,” you smiled softly. “They just want to make sure you’re not hurt or sick, okay?”

He released his grip on you and folded his hands in his lap, allowing you to take a step back.

“Would you feel better if we stayed in the room?”

Looking between you and Loki who was currently behind you, he nodded vigorously. You smiled back and moved to lean against the far wall, close enough to see you but not enough to crowd the medics. Loki looked thoughtfully at Timothy who stared back at him with hopeful eyes before joining you.

A couple weeks later, you were at your station, rummaging through emails. You found one about Timmy, as he preferred to be called, being transferred at the end of the month to another facility where other children rescued from HYDRA were residing. At least he would be with kids his own age. Through the tests the medical team had run, it turns out Timmy was enhanced. HYDRA had taken him and his family, but left only him alive when they learned the rest of his family held no mutations. S.H.I.E.L.D. would not divulge to you what his abilities were, but considering how quickly he bonded with you and Loki, you were at least allowed to contact and visit him every so often, something you planned to work into your schedule.

You closed out your emails upon hearing approaching footsteps. Agent Hill was speed walking towards you with a folder in hand.

“Good morning, Agent,” she greeted you with an infectious smirk, holding the folder out to you.

“Good morning, Agent Hill.” You took the folder and checked the paperwork inside. Holding back a squeal, you hugged the folder to your chest. “Really?!”

“Congratulations!”

You bit your lip to contain your excitement. “I wasn’t really expecting this, especially so soon.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be telling you this but...” She sidled up next to you, lowering her voice. “I did read Loki’s report. The partner review section is usually filled with snarky comments and insults. Your’s was different. It was glowing compared to past reports.”

You tilted your head at her in confusion. There was plenty for him to complain about. You were not perfect. Your skills as a field agent were slightly above average, nothing to write home about. There was a lot you could do better.

“There was only one word.”

Arching an eyebrow, you nodded for her to continue.

“Tolerable.”

That was a glowing review?! You had to stop yourself from laughing. You really did not want to know what he wrote about the others.

After the mini-gossip session, Agent Hill left you to continue her other tasks. With a slight bounce in your step, you headed to the break room for some coffee. You were later than usual, but everyone on this floor was usually pretty good about making sure the coffee pot was never left empty. Opening an overhead cupboard, you groaned to yourself. All the mugs were on the higher shelving. Where were the ones that were normally lower? You weren’t sure you could reach even if you stood on your toes, but damned if you weren’t going to try anyways.

“Having trouble, Agent?” a low voice queried from behind startling you.

About to lose your balance, you tried to put yourself back fully on your feet but overcompensated and fell backwards instead. A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders, preventing you from hitting the ground. You righted yourself and spun on your heel to face the trickster.

“Thanks, Loki...”

“You’re quite welcome, Agent.” The way he emphasized “agent” made you nervous. You weren’t sure if it was in a good or bad way.

He reached past you into the cupboard. Grabbing a couple of mugs, he offered you one with a sly smile. “Is this what you needed?”

Of course he could reach with no problems. You cleared your throat as you took one from him. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

Turning back around to face the counter, you started to pour coffee into your mug. Loki slid in next to you and turned on the electric kettle. You caught him watching you from your peripheral vision as you moved to the fridge for creamer. Having added just the right amount, you leaned your back on the counter. You take a sip, the mug a barrier to hide part of your face.

“So... What brings you here?”

He motioned to the tea bag he had pulled from the container on the counter.

You rolled your eyes. “Is that all?” This floor wasn’t even the normal floor he visited. What was he up to?

“Yes, Little Agent,” he smirked. “This break room is much quieter than the one normally inhabited by the beloved Avengers.”

Snickering, you took another sip. “Right, right.”

Knowing he had been caught, he shifted his focus on the water just starting to boil.

You pushed yourself away from the counter. “Well, I need to get back to work. See you around?”

“Indeed, Agent.”

Timmy flew into your arms as you knelt near the ramp of the Quinjet. “You’re going to come visit, right?”

“Promise,” you reassured him with a grin. How this kid managed to bounce back so quickly was beyond you, but seeing him this happy brought a spark of warmth to your chest. This was one of the reasons you joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

He let go and peered around you sheepishly. “Mr. Loki?”

Looking over your shoulder, the mischievous god was leaning back near the door preferring to watch from a distance. He ducked his head to hide the light smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning away so Loki couldn’t see, you smiled at their interaction. Who knew Loki could be a softie.

An agent appeared at the top of the ramp, ready to bring Timmy onboard.

“Be good for them, okay?” You ruffled his hair and stood up.

He nodded and hugged you one more time before running off to the agent. He turned back before the ramp closed, giving you and Loki a wave goodbye. With the Quinjet taking off, you spun on your heel and made your way to the door.

“You are much too kind.”

You hand paused on the door handle. “I’m sorry?”

Loki faced you, a scrutinizing look in his eyes. “You are too kind for this line of work.”

“I can handle it, Loki. I have my reasons for being here,” you scoffed, arms folded across your chest.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” He smirked at you and opened the door for you to enter first. “It’s rather refreshing.”

This god really knew how to flip an emotional switch. You just shook your head and proceeded inside, deciding it was better to not stand around argue with him. There was a new mission briefing for the two of you to attend, and you were not about to let him make you late.

Fury kept pairing you and Loki for missions. Sometimes another field agent or Avenger would tag along for support, but for the most part it was just you two. Most of the missions involved as much stealth as possible, but combat was inevitable in some cases. Loki might as well have glued himself to you during those moments. He never left you when a fight broke out, going so far as to stand between you and the shots fired in your direction. Guess he found a little more than “tolerable”.

Even outside of the missions you wound up spending time together. With the promotion, your work station had been moved to the same floor as the Avengers which meant you also shared the break room and training facilities. While Loki never showed up at your workstation, he did “happen” to come across you everywhere else, usually sticking to the background when others were around.

“You know, Loki, stalking someone generally involves the stalker not being in plain sight,” you teased, using a towel to wipe the sweat from your face. Training with Nat, as she nearly demanded you to call her, was intense but absolutely worth it. You attributed the recent mission successes to her as you may not have survived with out her guidance.

“Tch. I would not consider it ‘stalking,’ merely watching your back,” he scowled, clearly not amused.

“Calm down, Mischief. I’m only joking,” you grinned, nudging past him out the door. “But seriously, you don’t need to constantly ‘watch my back’. We’re at S.H.I.E.L.D., not on a mission.”

Following you, he taunted, “Then, I suppose you would prefer to be left alone. I see how it is.” He feigned being hurt by your words.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you deadpanned.

His pace quickened until he spun in front of you, forcing you to a halt. “Then, my little agent, what do you mean?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in a moment of silence. For whatever reason, he had taken to calling you that a few months ago. You were oddly okay with it, possibly even liked it though you were not ready to admit that just yet.

“What I mean is...” You took a step closer, now mere inches away, heart thundering in your chest. “You are allowed to talk to me when there are other people nearby.”

He leaned in, pushing how far this little standoff was going to go. “So I have your permission now? Thank you so much.”

“You never needed it.” Gods, you were so close now. You could have just gotten it over with and kissed him, but the thought of his reaction stopped you. Loki could be so hard to read. You couldn’t take anything at face value. It would not surprise you if he were messing with you now. But you could always try to catch him off guard...

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you smirked and stepped around him. “I would like to get cleaned up for my date tonight.”

With that, you darted into the locker room, leaving the trickster frozen in the hall, mouth agape.

“He does like you,” Timmy said sporadically yet nonchalantly as he kicked the ball to you.

“‘He’ who?” You kicked the ball in the air towards him.

“Mr. Loki.”

You rolled your eyes at his “no duh” tone. “Maybe as a coworker.”

“Nooo!” He bounced the ball off his head, letting it then hit the ground to be forgotten. “I mean ‘like like’.”

You were about to scoff but thought back to earlier in the day. Loki’s reaction to your comment could lead someone to believe that, but that certainly was not enough proof. And, no. You were not on an actual date, but a date is a kind of planned event, and you had planned to visit Timmy. Loki would probably see through your partial lie eventually, but you at least had him in that moment.

“Now what makes you say that?”

“He always talks about you when he’s here.”

So Mischief does visit him... Imagining Loki running around this playground with Timmy was kind of cute.

“I’ll bet it’s nothing good,” you joked.

Timmy shook his head, not understanding your jest. “It’s how nice you are. He said that you’re one of the only people here who isn’t mean to him.”

Well, that was kind of true. Just because he had been with the Avengers for so long did not mean everyone was going to be friendly with him. New York was a factor but his current demeanor towards “Midgardians” was enough to turn most people away.

“That doesn’t mean he... ‘like like’s me,” you grimaced. Speaking like this made you feel like you were in high school again.

“But he told me-” He clapped his hands over his mouth.

“Told you what?”

He shook his head, his hair slinging wildly.

“Timmy...” you warned.

“But I promised him I wouldn’t tell,” he admitted through his hands.

Knowing how important promises can be for children, you sighed, “Okay, okay. I won’t push it anymore.”

Relief flooded his tiny face as he relaxed. Looking up at the pinks and oranges seeping into the sky like paint with too much water, you pouted. “Alright, Buddy. Looks like we need to head inside.”

Timmy mirrored your pout, but ran to you and clutched your hand as you led him into the building.

Well, this was going to be a boring mission. You were going solo this time. Loki was with his brother off-world, so that meant you had no one but the pilot to chat with. Admittedly, Loki was quite the conversationalist when he wanted to be. It kept the trips to and from locations from growing stagnant, something you very much appreciated. Plus, you just liked hearing his alluring voice, even when he teased you just to see how flustered you would get. You were a little surprised with how much you missed him being around.

At least this was supposed to be quick. The newly-found HYDRA facility was about three hours away. Get in. Snag data. Go home. Intel showed it was small without many people there. Should be easy enough. But... Nothing is ever goes as smoothly as it should.

Glancing out the window as the Quinjet was landing, you noticed how close you were to the facility. In fact, you were a lot closer than you should have been.

“Sir?” You left your seat to confront the pilot. “What’s this about? This is a stealth mission. You’re going to give away-”

You had to jump back to avoid a punch. The pilot had left the controls to take care of you, gun in hand. Is this guy serious right now?! There was no way you were going to give this guy a chance to shoot you. You ducked low, charging him and rammed yourself at his stomach, elbow aimed for his solar plexus. With the wind knocked out of him, he stumbled backwards, grasping at anything that would keep him upright. Taking the opening, you used a seat near you as leverage to jump high enough to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum and gravity to swing yourself around to slam him into the ground (a nice little trick Nat so graciously taught you). The force to the metal flooring was enough to leave him unconscious.

Scrambling up, you formulated a quick plan in your head: Take off, secure this asshole and comm headquarters. You made the executive decision to end the mission early. If this guy was a double agent, then whoever was in the facility knew you were coming. You were making your way to the cockpit when you felt something sharp pierce your neck. Immediately, you yanked out what you found to be a dart, spinning around to see where it came from. At some point in your fight, the Quinjet had touched down and the ramp lowered. With your vision growing alarmingly blurry, you could barely make out the armed guards before everything faded black.

Your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes again. The room was dark with a cold, uninviting floor and thick metal bars in front. You tried to sit up, hoping the small change would alleviate your headache but failed. Your captors had secured your hands behind your back, rather tightly to be honest. The restraints were harshly cutting into your wrists while making it as awkward as possible to do anything from your position. Trying again, the muscles in your side seized up and your ribs screamed in agony, a groan falling from your throat.

“Oh look, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is awake.”

You flinched not having heard the footsteps leading to your cell. You kept your head on the concrete floor as you looked up at the dark figure leaning on the opposite side of the bars.

“Now,” he started as he unlocked the door and let himself in. “I am going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them.” He nudged you with his foot. “Understand?”

Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away from him. Like hell. He just chuckled. The gritty sound reverberated off the walls.

“How cute. Your stubbornness won’t last long here.” The man began circling you slowly. “I know you are one of the agents who stole Subject 604.”

“You mean one of the agents who rescued a boy named Timmy,” you spat, earning you a hard blow to your back.

Hissing through your teeth, you rolled onto your stomach to relieve the pain of your bruising backside, but a foot pulled you back onto your side.

“Quite rude of you to interrupt,” he growled, moving to stand in front of you. “Now, all I want to know is where you have taken my test subject.”

“Hah,” you barked. “Like I’ll help some monster running experiments on children.”

A kick to your ribs and you curled in on yourself, coughing up the blood trying to take refuge in your lungs. He ripped you from the floor by your hair when a deafening alarm suddenly blared in the facility.

“You want a monster? Then, a monster you will have,” his hissed in your face before throwing you back down and leaving you in your cell to rot. You knew he’d be back later to finish what he started.

Biting back a pained moan, you pushed your head into the concrete floor, but the cold did little to soothe your pain. The alarm made sure of that, the tone causing your ears to faintly ring. You scooted yourself backwards against the wall and used it to help sit yourself upright. With that little bit of success, you rewarded yourself by closing your eyes and leaning against the wall. Now maybe you could think a little better so you could figure out a plan to get the hell out of there.

A low, familiar voice called your name, startling you to open your eyes. Had you blacked out again?

“By the Norns, you’re are alive,” a second booming voiced sounded off.

Maybe you were hallucinating. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Wha- Loki? Thor?”

Loki picked the lock open with his seiðr and rushed to you to release your bonds. “Let us leave this place, my little agent.” He spoke just loud enough for you to hear him over the alarms that were still roaring.

Gingerly scooping you into his arms, he strode back to Thor who was holding back the HYDRA agents who found you all there. He looked back at you and Loki over his shoulder. “Let’s go!” He threw his hammer down the hall, hitting the agents and forming a path.

Between Thor’s hammer and Loki’s seiðr, it didn’t take long for you all to convene with Captain America and Nat and make it to their Quinjet. The one you had taken for your mission was probably long gone. With everyone onboard, the pilot took off and navigated for headquarters.

Loki sat you down in a seat, giving you a once over to see where you were hurt with Nat giving her input. You probably had a concussion, cracked ribs and definitely a plethora of bruises. The best they could do at the moment was keep you comfortable without agitating the damage.

In one swift move, Loki picked you back up and placed you in his lap as he sat, holding you to his chest. Leaning into the embrace, you nuzzled up to him, too tired to notice the knowing looks earned from the rest of the team.

“I thought you were off-world,” you struggled to say, your voice barely breaking a whisper. Exhaustion was creeping up your limbs.

He rested a cheek on top of your head. “We were. We came back as soon as we learned you were missing. I thought I had lost you.”

Your mind grew foggy, slurring your words. “Nope... Not gettin’ rid of me so eas’ly...”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now sleep, my little agent.”

Traipsing through the jungle gym, you followed Timmy who was making his way to the monkey bars. He boldly hopped off the platform and latched onto one of the bars. As he swung himself forward, catching the next bar, you reached out for the closest one.

“Should you really be doing that, Dove?”

Loki was suddenly on the ground next to you.

“What? It’s just monkey bars.”

“You’ve only been out of the Med Bay for a week,” he deadpanned.

Huffing, you sat down on the platform, knowing you would not win this argument. “Fine. But you’re helping me down.”

He was already in front of you, ready to pull you into his arms. “With pleasure,” he smirked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You slid into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck. He just held you like that, staring into your eyes. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his. Although he thought it was cute, Loki had a better idea. He tilted his head and captured your lips instead which you all too willingly encouraged.

“Come on, you guys! It’s gonna get dark soon,” Timmy yelled to you, wanting you to follow him to the next jungle gym section.

With the moment shattered, Loki set you down and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You intertwined your fingers with his, pulling him along in Timmy’s direction. Both of you walked alongside the jungle gym and watched the ecstatic boy as he navigated the various obstacles.

“You know,” you began teasingly, leaning on Loki who hummed in response. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for rescuing me.”

“No... No, I don’t think you did,” he smirked mischievously.

You squeezed the hand you were holding. “What can I do to show my appreciation for your valiant efforts?”

“Hmm...” He looked at you with mock contemplation. “How about... You, my little agent, join me for dinner tonight?”

You nodded in agreement. “I’d love that.”

[pokemoncreepypasta]

HM Slave

[STORY SOURCE]

The Generation I games. Definitely not perfect games by any means, but they were fun to play.

It's a shame my old cartridge’s battery has been long since dead. Makes sense, it was a hand-me-down from an older sibling of mine. Between both of our times playing it, it was bound to die sometime.

I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to play it again after so many years...

The trouble was, I had no intention of learning how to replace the battery, or buying a new cartridge. None of that appealed to me.

So, I just took it upon myself to play it without saving. Any time I wanted to stop, I’d just plug it into my charger, and leave it be.

Everything about this run was just for nostalgia. It was nothing personal to me, so I didn't name Red after myself or something.

I wanted to play through this game without getting attached to anything.

The best way to go through without caring? A starter-only run. I chose Charmander, since it was the cover ‘mon, and also my favorite of the three. Not necessarily because it would make the game easier in the long run.

Of course, there’s no way I’d be able to get through with just Charmander.

My plan was to catch a Pokémon specifically to use as an HM slave, so my Charizard wouldn’t be clogged up by useless moves in the long run.

And what better HM slave than the one who can learn them all, right?

In Generation I, you can’t delete moves in any way, so an HM slave was absolutely necessary.

Not like I hated Mew or anything... I just never performed the Mew glitch as a kid and thought that this would be a fun opportunity to try it.

The darned thing did everything within its power to not get caught, blowing through every single one of my PokéBalls that I’d prepared to catch it with. Hey, it wasn’t like I was going to need them later, so I didn’t complain.

I decided to nickname the little thing. I’d heard the term “HM mule” thrown around in place of HM slave, so I thought it would be funny.

Of course, picking the Fire type had its rocky start, with its disadvantage against the first two gym leaders.

I managed to scrape by with scummy tactics, though.

I’d switched to my Abra that I’d caught to perform the Mew glitch, and let Misty knock it out.

After that, I switched to Mewl for the free turn, and then healed my Charmeleon. Then, after Mewl fainted, I got a free switch into Charmeleon.

When the battle was over, I could proudly claim the Cascade Badge.

This was Mewl’s secondary purpose, to be switch fodder for me to heal my starter.

Things were going fine until Mewl learned Cut.

The first instance where Mewl’s “skills” would come into play.

This was a game where you couldn’t use HMs from the overworld, so I went to the menu to manually select it.

“MEWL ignored orders...”

Now, imagine my surprise when my slave wouldn’t listen to orders. I tried a few more times, with the same result.

I attempted to rationalize it, picking my brain for a reason. I assumed that you could not use HM moves while a Pokémon was fainted, but something about that didn’t seem right.

I healed at the Pokémon Center to be safe though.

That seemed to work, so I assumed that I was right and continued to Surge.

Nothing really unusual happened during the fight, but Mewl was knocked out again for a free heal.

On my way out, I had to cut down the tree blocking Surge’s gym again. I was worried for a moment that I had gotten myself stuck, but Mewl cut it down just fine.

I figured the game would let me use HM moves if I would be trapped otherwise.

I went back to the center to heal up my starter, and my stubborn little mule.

(And Abra too, I guess.)

I caught and released a few throwaway Pokémon to obtain Flash, which I immediately taught to Mewl.

I made my way to Rock Tunnel.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

I was frustratingly met with this. It was fully healed, I couldn't understand why it was disobeying. I wondered if it was some sort of consequence from having an illegitimate Mew...

I kept trying and trying, but no matter what, it wouldn’t light the cave.

I was sure this little bugger didn’t want to wander around in the dark just as much as me, so I really couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

I tried checking its summary, to which its blank, neutral expression had changed to something more... defiant?

I didn't know what kind of sick joke Morimoto was pulling on me by programming Mew to be this way, but I wasn’t having any of it.

It dawned on me that Abra could also learn Flash, so I just let Mewl be prissy and lit up the cave with Abra.

I somewhat regretted my choice to teach Mewl Flash. If I had known it was going to act like this, I would have just taught it Fly instead…

I decided to go ahead and skip getting Fly, since Charizard couldn't learn it anyway.

Thankfully, I made it out of Rock Tunnel just fine.

Charizard made Erika’s gym a total joke, so I didn’t even need Mewl as fodder for this fight.

The whole game was going fine so far up to Fuchsia City, and I had completely forgotten about Mewl’s disobedience by now.

I had obtained its final two moves, so I booted the HMs up and slapped them onto it.

Of course, to use Surf and progress, I had to face off against Koga.

Things were going well up until Charizard couldn’t deal with Koga’s last Pokémon.

I sent in Mewl to heal my Charizard.

”Enemy WEEZING used SLUDGE!”

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

Strangely, when Weezing attacked Mewl, it didn’t get knocked out in one hit like it was meant to. Instead, it stayed in the field.

While I wanted to question it at the time, I just used a Hyper Potion on my Charizard to get it back to full.

”Enemy WEEZING used SMOG!” 

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!”

 Sure enough, I wasn’t dreaming. Mewl was somehow surviving all of Koga’s attacks. Normally that would be pretty cool, except for the fact that Mewl was level 7 and therefore effectively worthless in this fight.

I had to wait for it to faint to switch to Charizard, but Mewl kept surviving every hit that was thrown at it.

”Enemy WEEZING used TOXIC!”

“MEWL”s hurt by poison!”

“MEWL fainted!”

Thankfully, it eventually became poisoned and went down, so I could send in Charizard to finish the job.

I made quick work of Koga and his Weezing after that and made my way out of the Gym.

But weirdly, as I was leaving, I couldn’t help but notice the screen flashing as if a Pokémon in my party was still poisoned.

I checked my party again to see what was up.

It seemed like Mew had a custom sprite for being knocked out that I never noticed before. I didn't even know if that was a thing.

But it was definitely knocked out, for sure, so I brushed it off as some sort of bug.

I figured if anything would fix the poison glitch, it’d be healing at the Pokémon Center.

”If you drive your POKéMON too hard, they’ll dislike you.”  

”Please take better care of your POKéMON.” 

 I was confused at this text. Was this dialogue hidden for players like me who let their Pokémon faint over and over? Whatever it is, I have never seen it before.

”We hope to see you again!” 

The nurse went back to her chipper disposition afterwards though, so I figured I should just be on my merry way as well.

I checked up on Mewl to see how it was doing now.

It seemed like the nurse just haphazardly patched it up. Mewl’s expression still looked tense, but I hoped that didn’t mean it wouldn’t use its new HM moves.

I made a quick note to take down Giovanni at Silph Co. and Sabrina. My Charizard was actually getting a bit over-leveled, so I swept through without needing to use Mewl to heal during battles at all.

I decided that on my way to Blaine, I would fall back on my training a bit.

I back-tracked over to Fuchsia City since it was faster than going all the way back to Pallet Town.

I made my way down by the Fuchsia coast and hoped quietly that Mewl would let me Surf to Cinnabar.

Thankfully it seemed like the 1’4 cat was perfectly fine with me riding on its back, with no defiance at all. I felt confident, like I was finally getting enough gym badges to make it obey.

I'd even gotten it to listen when I needed it to use Strength in the Seafoam Islands. Things were really looking up.

I’d finally hit land and was ready to storm the Cinnabar Mansion and claim Blaine’s badge.

I was feeling pretty confident with my Charizard’s HP and level that I wanted to take on the Gym without healing at the Pokémon Center.

I had plenty of Potions and Revives in case of emergency, anyway.

All of the quiz questions were normal, except... This bizarre one. 

“You treat all your POKéMON fairly?”

Though it had been several years since I played this game, something felt off about it, like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

I half-heartedly answered yes, despite knowing it was untrue. My logic was, at the very least, that even though I as a player didn’t care about these Pokémon, maybe Red did.

”Sorry! Bad call!”

The buzzer went off and I was harassed by a trainer. I was appalled... Was the game really criticizing me as a player?

Had I hit some sort of secret flag after making Mewl faint so much? I couldn't understand what was happening.

I didn’t give myself much time to think about it though, so I healed up my Charizard with some Potions and took on Blaine.

Charizard had fainted again, so I left it up to Mewl.

I healed up my Charizard and expected Mewl to hang on like before, but it just went down with no resistance.

With my seventh gym badge in hand, I was pretty happy with my run so far. A couple more hours in and I’d be done, I thought.

I was ready to Surf north towards Pallet Town and claim my eighth and final badge.

“MEWL ignored orders!”

But I received a friendly reminder.

I had forgotten that Mewl didn’t like using HMs without being healed. I really didn’t feel like taking it to the Pokémon Center though, so I just carelessly threw a Revive at it.

Hoping that the Revive would be good enough to satisfy it and let me ride on it again, I mashed through text a few times to see if I could brute-force it to listen.

”MEWL won’t obey!”

”MEWL turned away!”

It kept bombarding me with the same defiant messages over and over, until...

“MEWL hates you.”

I was caught off-guard. This text didn’t have the same energy as the others, lacking an exclamation point. It sounded like flat, cold, genuine hatred.

I pressed A again, and attempted to order another Surf. Not necessarily because I wanted it to Surf now, but more out of a morbid fascination with such intense text.

“MEWL used instead, FLASH!”

Suddenly, like in a battle, the screen lit up totally white.

I was booted out of the party screen afterwards, and immediately noticed a distinct lack of an items menu. Had Mewl taken it from me?

Closing out of the menu, I spoke to the Pokémon now standing next to me, knowing exactly who it was supposed to be.

”Mew!”

Mew’s cry played. I already knew it.

“MEWL hacked away with CUT!”

I flinched, horrified at the thought of Mewl directly attacking my trainer.

”HM01 was destroyed!”

But then I realized, it wasn't that...

”HM03 was destroyed!” 

 Instead, Mewl had stolen my items...

”HM04 was destroyed!” 

 … And was proceeding to destroy each of my HMs, one by one.

”HM05 was destroyed!” 

 After destroying HM05, Mewl’s sprite disappeared; presumably back into its PokéBall.

I was exasperated, but quick on my wits.

I still had Fuchsia City's Pokémon Center as my last saved location, meaning I could use Abra to Teleport back to the mainland.

I was smug, thinking I'd found a loophole around Mewl's attempts to sabotage me.

”ABRA used TELEPORT!”

“ABRA ran away!”

I panicked, to say the least. I frantically scrolled around my party page. How could Abra have disappeared like that? I wasn't going to accept Mewl being my only ride back to Pallet, it was impossible.

I desperately went to the PC inside the Pokémon Center, in some vain hope that maybe Abra had just been sent there somehow.

”MEWL used STRENGTH.”

“The PC was destroyed!”

I couldn't believe it.

Mewl had gone full rogue.

I suddenly had to come to grips with the horrifying realization...

I was trapped in Cinnabar with no way off.

I went through what I can only describe as the five stages of grief.

Stage 1 - Denial

I scoured the internet for any other Pokémon in Cinnabar Mansion that I could use to escape the island.

I quickly remembered that Mewl had already destroyed my HMs and stolen my items, and realized I couldn’t catch anything.

But I did have one more plan.

If I could knock out Charizard and Mewl, I could be sent back to Fuchsia. It would take a bit of work for Charizard to eventually faint, but I was prepared to try anything.

”CHARIZARD ran away!”

But I couldn’t be prepared for my Charizard running away.

I was so shocked that I didn’t even want to send in Mewl, I just said no and fled the battle.

I fell into absolute despair. Mewl had not only ruined my chance of getting off the island, but now, even if I did, what would I do without the only Pokémon I’d been raising?

Stage 2 - Anger

I’d never thought malicious thoughts about this Mew before, just casual indifference and sometimes mild frustration. But I can’t say that I didn’t want some payback towards this Mew for wasting several perfectly good hours of my life.

I sadistically thought about how I would make it faint, and then how I would torture it over, and over, making it repeatedly faint until maybe it would measure up to Charizard’s strength.

“MEWL ENDURED the hit!” 

I couldn't stop myself from shouting "NO."

Despite Mewl’s apparent injuries, it hung on with one HP.

Again, and again, no matter what I did. No matter what Pokémon I faced.

It seemed like nothing could poison it, burn it, kill it.

Then, it dawned on me…

Maybe this was what Mewl wanted all along?

Stage 3 - Bargaining

Mewl’s stubbornness and special ability that made it unable to faint...

It took Mewl a long time to faint its first real opponent, due to its low level, but in the end, it grew.

I checked Mewl’s summary for some sort of sign, anything at all, that this was what I was supposed to be doing. It stared at me with its vacant, unreadable expression...

Perhaps it was shocked I had battled with it? Whatever the case, it wasn’t staring at me with hostility anymore...

So it was silently agreed between us, then. Mewl and I, we did our first ever grinding session.

It took a few hours, but Mewl’s level was growing steadily. Things seemed to be going well, until...

We ran into our first wild Ditto.

I thought it was strange, having not found a Ditto for all this time I'd spent in Cinnabar Mansion, but I didn’t see any trouble with fighting it, so I just let the battle progress.

Stage 4 - Depression

The Ditto transformed into Mewl, who appeared to have a sad expression on its face.

I quickly pulled out of the battle screen and into my party to see if something had changed with Mewl.

I checked to see Mewl, who had that same sad expression as the Ditto. Its status had changed from "OK" to a worrying "...".

I knew something was wrong, so I fled from that battle and every battle afterwards.

Though I had avoided it before on hopes of somehow escaping to Fuchsia City, I gave it all up to heal Mewl, who had risked life and limb to impress me.

After it was healed, I checked its summary again.

Though it had fully healed, it still had that depressed look in its eyes. I couldn’t understand want it wanted. I didn’t know what it needed.

But I realized that it was getting pretty late, and I wanted to get to sleep soon. I would have to leave the game on, and leave Mewl behind.

That was when it hit me.

Could it be possible that Mewl knew I hadn’t saved? Did Mewl somehow understand that no matter if I saved or didn’t save, it would disappear when I turned the game off?

I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but Mewl was more special than any other Pokémon I’d ever played with.

And if I turned the game off, it would disappear forever.

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I went out of the Pokémon Center to reflect about this with Mewl.

I still wanted to finish the adventure with it, if it would let me.

Stage 5 - Acceptance

“MEWL doesn’t want to go.”

That was okay, I thought.

I realized that even if I went with Mewl to the Pokémon League, and won, then the game would return to the title screen and not save my progress.

Maybe Mewl understood that, too.

So then we were at an impasse, together on Cinnabar Island.

I didn’t know what to do. Even if this Mew was special, even if I genuinely believed it was real, I couldn’t just keep my GameBoy on forever. What would anyone else think?

I decided that for the first time in this entire run, I wanted to save my game. I didn't want to turn it off just yet, but at least save, as some sort of precautionary measure.

I hoped, that in the event the GameBoy turned off for whatever reason, a miracle would occur.

”Would you like to SAVE your MEW?”

It seemed that the game knew exactly what my heart wanted, and I selected yes.

Then, all of a sudden, my game turned off. Not due to low battery or anything, but it just turned off.

I panicked for a moment, and quickly switched the game back on.

It was gone. The save file was gone.

Or, rather, it was never there to begin with.

[teethlabyrinth]

Ring light adjusted, microphone plugged in, camera ready: GG Cookie is about to go live on another of her super-popular gaming streams! She’s very talented, but none of her fans see her hours of practice off-camera to make sure she never, ever loses. After every victory comes her friendly trademark: “gg!” This cookie sure looks sweet, but it’s all hiding a savory side.

egirl cookie gg cookie! egirl gamer streamer cookie. HUGE bitch. beloved to me.

design drafts & more info abt her ↓↓↓

gg paste is an ingredient in a lot of indian recipes (ginger-garlic paste), and also slang for “good game” and the idea for a cookie combining the two entered my brain and would not be dismissed 😔 she ended up being a huge two-faced brat with absolutely no genuine aspects to her streamer persona who has fine-tuned every aspect of that persona for maximum appeal

her pet is garlic custard, a misunderstood little guy who spiritually if not physically embodies a grandpa (rough sketch)

This dessert looks so delicious, but then you get a whiff of it and... Yuck! What’s that smell? This little garlic and fresh herb custard was made without any sugar at all, and it was left uneaten for so long that it eventually wandered off on its own. It doesn’t understand much about technology, but it does its best to support GG Cookie. They’re kindred spirits, after all!

Relationships

Popping Candy Cookie: He’s so popular already, even though he’s so young. So talented! I’m a huge fan! (tension)

Firecracker Cookie: I love old-school games too! My fans would love to have them on a stream. Though I would have to adjust my mic’s input — they sure are high-energy! (tension)

Cheerleader Cookie: We actually went to the same school growing up. She was so nerdy and quiet back then. She sure has come a long way! (tension) 

Lychee Dragon Cookie: The ability to force people to like you… What a cruel, manipulative power! (admiration) 

← Ice Juggler Cookie: A kindred spirit. (Too similar…) (tension)

aaaand drafts/rejected color schemes. i had the face/hair/vibe down pretty quickly but everything else fought me

fun fact: her hair is made of dry ginger so its very crispy and stringy and she’s a little insecure about it. she’s not often seen without a head accessory because of that

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

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I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao