#might do this for my others at some point!

[monstersflashlight]

A/N: This is a longer version of this story and it’s purely self-indulgent (like 99% of my stories lol). Enjoy!

Set up by a baby-orc

Orc x fem!reader || sfw, meet-cute, possibly soulmates

There was a little orc pulling at your hand, taking you with him to the door. "Come on, teacher, come with me." You let him drag you out, chuckling at his insistence.

He was such a cute kid, you knew you shouldn’t have favorites, but some kids made your heart all soft because they were just so fucking cute. And the tiny orc dragging you to the door was one of them. He was so shy when the school started, and in only a month he’d come out of his shell so much you couldn’t be anything but proud.

"Where to? I have job to do, hon, the other kids might need me," you tried, amused at his antics. But he wasn’t having any of that, grabbing your hand stronger and pulling until you follow after him with a laugh.

"You need to meet him!" He insisted, pulling harder and making you wince internally. Baby monsters had an amazing amount of strength even when tiny, you had to remind them to be careful with the humans, especially with you. Ouch.

"Who?" You asked, genuinely curious, following along with him out of the school and into the little patio where the parents and guardians could wait until the little ones were ready to go.

"My uncle!" He exclaimed, pointing across the patio with his tiny chubby green hand. You walk next to him for a few more steps before you look up.

You were about to tell him you couldn't get out of the school when you looked up and faces the prettiest orc you've ever set your eyes on. He was looking at you with the same level of amazement, and something inside of you just... knew.

You walked like a zombie next to the baby orc, not even registering what he was babbling about next to you as he pulled you along until you were right in front of him. You had to look up, and up, and up to be able to stare at his face, but you felt like it was too much, too soon, and ended up looking back down to the baby who was still talking animatedly.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” He sounded so excited you couldn’t do anything but laugh as his uncle blushed in the greenest green, making him look impossibly cute, probably even cuter than his nephew.

“I can see that,” he said in a low voice, so deep and so growly that made you want to press your legs together. You bite your lip not to giggle when his eyes fixated on you. He had such dark eyes you felt like he could see into your soul, and when he focused his sole attention on you for a fraction of a second, you felt your heart-beat spiking, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He says it as if that’s such a feat and you have to cover your mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” he explained, kneeling on the floor so he was closer to the kid’s height even if that’s not near close to the baby sized orc. He was on his knees and he still was a couple centimeters taller than you. Your inner size queen was screaming very loudly.

“They will?!” The baby sounded so shocked that you choked on your saliva trying to avoid laughing.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” you explained, touching his head affectionately.

You tried to avoid looking at his uncle, but every time you caught a sight of him on the corner of your eye you felt a shiver ran down your spine. You were shivering with the need to touch him, even if it was just a poke in the cheek, and you had to physically close your hand to avoid doing exactly that.

You didn’t know what was with him or why you were feeling like only looking at him, took all the air out of your lungs, but you were giddy and shy about it. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. “I should go back to the kids,” you let out, breathless after looking at him for less than ten seconds.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” You were walking back to the school when he said behind you: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” his gruff tone made you shiver as you smiled as big as the sun, not daring to turn around and look at him one last time.

But when you were about to enter, you turned around slightly and saw him still on his knees, looking intently at his nephew as the baby told him something. He looked up and your eyes met, and your breath got caught in your throat, your heart beating fast and your face flushed. He smiled at you with his beautiful tusked mouth, and you almost had to fan yourself, smiling back as you ran inside, your hand on your chest trying to calm your frantic heart.

Maybe the kid had a point about meeting his uncle.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, if enough ppl is interested I’ll write it.

[killerpancakeburger]

Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

[cockkette]

baby alonso

charles leclerc x alonso!reader

warnings - swearing, google translate spanish, dad!fernando, tomfoolery + shenanigans (it is alonso!reader so are we suprised), i think that's it xoxo

face claim - girls on pinterest

y/n.alonso

liked by astonmartinf1, fernandoalo_oficial and 409,345 others

y/n.alonso: causing chaos in the aston garage per usual 😘

comments

astonmartinf1: not too much chaos though... right

y/n.alonso: of course

fernandoalo_oficial: my daughter is an angel and can do no wrong 🤨

user1: praise the alonso father daughter duo we all say in unison

user2: and to think this man committed war crimes

y/n.alonso: allegedly* 🙄

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_oficial: now that you finished with that waste of time you can come to every race just like when you were little cariño!!

y/n.alonso: by 'that waste of time' do you mean the university that you payed for?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes i'm glad we are on the same page mija 🩷

user3: you heard it here first fernando alonso says university isn't important

astonmartinf1: this is not the view if the aston martin f1 team or any of our sponsors

user4: is he trying to kill admin?

astonmartinf1: i fear he might be 🥲

user5: baby alonso is the paddock princess

user6: she is living the dream for real

y/n.alonso: it is pretty sweet being a nepo child 💪

lance_stroll: you know it 😎

user7: i'm praying for aston points

y/n.alonso: hang on i'll pull some strings brb

y/n.alonso: dad! lance! score some points!

liked by astonmartinf1

user8: she's so pretty 😍

charles_leclerc: she really is

carlossainz55: bro do you actually have a death wish

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll see you on the track leclerc 🙂

y/n.alonso: papá!

astonmartinf1

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n.alonso and 245,071 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll and y/n.alonso

astonmartinf1: race weekend with a special guest 😉

comments

user9: we love baby alonso

user10: BABY ALONSO

user11: get her to sort aston martin tf out

y/n.alonso: guys i'm trying my best 😔

fernandoalo_oficial: mija lawrence is going to make me go to another pr training session if you keep doing this

user12: the king can't get locked up in pr jail!!

charles_leclerc: i might have to swing by the aston garage 😉

fernandoalo_oficial: you might fucking not

charles_leclerc: yes fernando, sorry fernando

user13: charles is going to get himself run off the track

user14: charles is a braver man than me fernando might kill him

y/n.alonso: thank you for having me! it's always so so much fun 🩷

liked by astonmartinf1

user15: petition for y/n to be at every race ever please

user16: where do i sign

user17: her paddock fits are literally everything to me

lance_stroll: she has started to give me fashion tips to 'inspire' me please don't encourage her

danielricciardo: you might want to start taking the advice...

lance_stroll: oh 😦

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by y/n.alonso, charles_leclerc and 324,391 others

fernandoalo_oficial: i think i need to fire my new race engineer she's mean

comments

y/n.alonso: boo 👎👎

fernandoalo_oficial: don't boo your own father

y/n.alonso: don't be a boring old man

sebastianvettel: she's got you there mate

fernandoalo_oficial: what the fuck are you doing here!?

jensonbutton: she gagged you fr 💅

aussiegrit: ate and left no crumbs

sebastianvettel: slay 💋

fernandoalo_oficial: what is actually happening

user18: i swear they will never miss an opportunity to try humble nando

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and aussiegrit

user19: i'm sure charles wouldn't mind having y/n as a race engineer

fernandoalo_oficial: no.

user20: the way i would never speak again

user21: noo i would love them together

liked by charles_leclerc

user22: in my head they ARE together

astonmartinf1: i mean we did get points this weekend soooo...

y/n.alonso: you're welcome xxx

y/n.alonso

liked by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 283,912 others

y/n.alonso: home sweet home 🏠

comments

user23: how is charles always in the likes before me? i have notifications on?!?

charles_leclerc: you snooze you lose mate

user24: he really is just like us (in love with y/n)

user25: too bad he's too scared of alonso to do anything about it 🤷‍♀️

yourbestfriend: your outfits always eat pretty girl!

y/n.alonso: aww thank you baby

user26: oh to be called baby by y/n

liked by charles_leclerc

fernandoalo_oficial: have fun!

fernandoalo_oficial: not too much fun though be careful and safe

y/n.alonso: yes papa

user27: he forgot who his daughter was for a second there

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

astonmartinf1: see you next race week!

y/n.alonso: wouldn't miss it!

user28: yesss

iamrebeccad: i miss you (and your gossip)

y/n.alonso: miss you too (don't worry i have plenty more)

user29: show it to me rachel!!!!

charles_leclerc: i'm in madrid too we should meet up

fernandoalo_oficial: what are you doing??

y/n.alonso: i might take you up on that offer cha 🤭

fernandoalo_oficial: noooo stop this

user30: this is sending me 😂

user31: the way they are fully ignoring him

user32: i won't ever get over y/n calling him cha

liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55and 592,842 others

charles_leclerc: time to unwind

comments

user33: wait is that y/n???

user34: it totally looks like her

user35: my chay/n heart can't take this

user36: the matching shirt with the dress? please!!!

user37: charles + spain = slaggy pictures

user38: and we thank him for it

liked by y/n.alonso

user39: omg y/n does not give a fuck

carlossainz55: where was my invite bro?

charles_leclerc: i'm so sorry i was too busy...

carlosainz55: i thought it was bros before hoes

chalres_leclerc: nah my hoe is 4 life

user40: so unserious i swear

pierregasly: i love knowing things nobody else knows

user41: tell me please

user42: pierre is my biggest opp rn

pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game

user43: he is the king of gossip

liked by charles_leclerc

user44: i've been manifesting this for months i hope it's y/n

user45: oh so you're crazy crazy?

y/n.alonso

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc and 12,812 others

caption- look who i bumped into 😉

replies

charles_leclerc: you say this like we didn't come here together

y/n.alonso: i'm trying to be mysterious and nonchalant

charles_leclerc: dork 🤓

y/n.alonso: you know you love it

user46: OMG

user47: this is so important to me

fernandoalo_oficial: tell him not to try anything

y/n.alonso: whatever papa 🙄

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55 and 872,849 others

tagged: y/n.alonso

charles_leclerc: happy 6 months mon amour 🩷

comments

user48: they are already my favorite couple ever

user49: the way i will be yapping about them i am about to get at least 10 times more annoying

user50: as you should tbh

user51: i'm so so happy for them but this might take fernando out

user52: i just know he is being restrained by aston martin rn so he can't comment

astonmartinf1: 🤐

user53: the goat is being silenced

pierregasly: now the secret is out i feel less special

user54: it's a tough life out here for the gossipy hoes

pierregasly: don't i know it

y/n.alonso: i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you more

user55: ew are they going to start being sappy on main now

pierregasly: i fear they might

liked by charles_leclerc and y/n.alonso

oscarpiastri: bwoah

user56: felt that

user57: charles has... game?

maxverstappen1: we are all as surprised as you are mate

user58: flabbergasted fr

maxverstappen1: he bamboozled us all with his loserness

user59: max i know you're not talking rn

y/n.alonso

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 17251 others

caption- this jacket looks supa cute!

replies

fernandoalo_oficial: ewww it's so ugly 🤢

y/n.alonso: papa i'm sorry for not telling you about charles earlier

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not over it yet i feel betrayed

fernandoalo_oficial: i just need time mija

y/n.alonso: you are so dramatic old man

fernandoalo_oficial: what the sigma?

user60: my favorite wag and nepo baby

charles_leclerc: please tell me you bought it mon coeur

y/n.alonso: yep! and when you get back to the hotel i'll be waiting for you wearing just that

charles_leclerc: fuck i'm on my way right now i'll just get the food delivered you aren't going anywhere

y/n.alonso: yes sir

charles_leclerc: you kill me cherie

user61: I JUST KNOW CHARLES IS LOSING HIS SHIT

charles_leclerc

liked by yourbestfriend, fernandoalo_oficial and 436,592 others

tagged: y/n.alonso

charles_leclerc: my ferrari girl ❤️

comments

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm still mad but no one told me but this is actually kind of cute ig

charles_leclerc: woo he likes me now

y/.alonso: don't push it amor 💋

user62: i'm sobbing he loves her so much

user63: if my bf ain't like this then i don't want it

y/n.alonso: he is pretty great icl

fernandoalo_oficial: i think i preferred when i didn't know about this... now you don't shut up about him

user64: she is so me

y/n.alonso: i'm you're ferrari girl

charles_leclerc: that's right baby

user65: shut up shut up i can't handle this

user66: they are literally everything

user67: i don't know how charles managed to hide this for 6 months

user68: now he posts y/n all the time 🤭

user69: ikr its so cute!!

carlossainz55: he can't keep a secret to save his life so he just yapped to me and pierre all. the. time

pierregasly: and he wasn't exactly subtle in the comments 🤨

scuderiaferrari: y/n is a ferrari girl confirmed 😦

liked by y/n.alonso

user70: everyone is a ferrari fan

user71: even if they are not, they are a ferrari fan

a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed and as always any feedback is apppreciated <3

[ckret2]

Chapter 70 of human Bill Cipher pretending he's not the Mystery Shack's captive for ten minutes:

This happens!

Whoops, sorry, zoomed too far in.

This happens!

Way more important and exciting.

####

Bill lasted—based on the sun's position—about a couple of hours before this body's needs knocked him out of his meditative mindset. He sat up with a sigh, checked his tanlines—the stripes he'd drawn across his abdomen were already darkening into a nice, angry burn—and glanced over at the lake to see what the Pines were up to.

At the moment, Mabel was holding a foot-long wiggling, glittery, gold-scaled trout in a net and grinning proudly. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pointed at her in excitement as Dipper snapped a picture of them. Stan opened a cooler for her to drop the fish in. Mabel's face fell, and she hugged the fish protectively. Stan's shoulders sagged; but after half a minute of unsuccessful negotiations, he relented and pointed at the lake. She dumped the trout back in the water.

Bill clicked his tongue in disappointment and muttered, "If I'd thought they'd catch the golden trout, I would've told 'em that thing's like the holy grail to the Fishmasons." Stan probably would have insisted they keep it just so they could get something on Eugene. Bill wasn't emotionally invested in their feud; but the trout did grant three wishes. Bill could use that kind of power.

Oh well, he could tell them later. Maybe they'd get lucky and hook it again. Bill got to his feet. "Hey, old lady. I need to stretch my legs." Stretch his legs, look for entertainment, and forage for food—they were planning to be out here all day, but there hadn't yet been a grocery trip to properly stock his new fridge chest and he didn't trust Ford's nutrition pills, so he'd only brought along a bottle of hot sauce and a bottle of sprinkles and hoped he'd manage to find some food once he was here. (And if he didn't find any—well, at least he had hot sauce and sprinkles.)

"Okay," Abuelita said. She turned a page.

He put his slippers back on, dug his condiments and eye patch out of Abuelita's bag—his eyes were getting tired—put on the patch, and scanned the beach. "Hey. Looks like somebody's grilling hot dogs over there."

Abuelita made a noncommital sound of minimal interest.

"Hot dog might be nice," he said. "Looks like the grill's a biiit over thirty feet away, though..."

"Okay," Abuelita said again.

"So." He waved his braceleted hand demonstratively. "Shall we?"

"Eh. I don't want a hot dog." She slid the enchanted bracelet off and dropped it in the sand.

Bill stared at the bracelet, then stared at her. "What, that—really? You're just... really?"

"What am I, a cop?"

Good enough for him. "You're all right, lady." He wrapped the extra thread around his wrist, put on the second bracelet, and glanced at the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines weren't about to catch him off his leash.

The family was crowded around watching as Ford reeled in something heavy. He grinned excitedly as the hook dragged up a patch of soggy khaki fabric; and his smile vanished when his coat grabbed the boat with a furry hand. As the family scrambled to the far end of the boat, Bigfoot—wearing Ford's lost coat and a full set of scuba gear—climbed aboard the boat.

Ford punched Bigfoot in the face.

"Oh," Bill said. "Bigflipper. That'll keep 'em distracted for a while." Satisfied, he meandered up the beach.

He plastered on a bright smile as he approached the family with the hot dogs, veered around the husband working the grill, and walked right up to the wife sitting on a beach towel, eating a hot dog, and watching her kids play in the water. "Heeey, Wanda! What are you doing here! Look at you, you look terrific!"

The woman looked up at Bill from under her sunhat in bafflement. "I—hi? Sorry, do I...?"

"Sure, it's Goldie! Washington State! Fifteen years ago! We were in the same study group, remember? East Asian history? Honestly all I remember about the class is the other girls and that fifty percent of it was about Confucianism."

Wanda's eyes lit up, and then un-lit as she realized she still didn't recognize Bill. "Oh—heeey! Wow—sorry, guess I've slept since then."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just good with faces. Anyway, from what I remember," he jabbed a thumb toward the man at the grill, "at the time most of your attention was on Danny."

Wanda laughed again, a little more easily. "Right, god. I can't believe I made it through that semester with passing grades."

"Hey, you were still the only one in the group who could remember what order all those dynasties came in..."

Bill kept Wanda distracted for another couple of minutes with small talk about the study sessions he'd spied on out of boredom from a library stained glass window; and then, when he saw one hot dog had been set aside fully grilled and mustarded but as-yet unclaimed, he said, "But hey, I won't distract you anymore! Those kids look like a handful." While both parents turned to look at the kids, Bill snatched up the unclaimed hot dog, strolled down the beach, and called back, "It was good catching up!" That whole performance probably hadn't been necessary, he might've been able to time his loitering to swing by just as the hot dog was left unguarded; but it had been more fun this way. He didn't get to have a lot of conversations these days. Less where he felt like he was the one in control of the conversation.

He soaked the bun in hot sauce, dumped some sprinkles on the mustard, and took a bite while he glanced out at the lake again to see how the Pines were doing.

At the moment, Ford had Bigfoot in a chokehold from behind. Stan hit him with a right hook. Bigfoot kicked Stan in the chest with one immense flippered foot, and he tumbled backward into the lake.

Looked like none of them would be paying attention to anything on the beach any time soon. No need to go straight back to his cell. He scanned the rows of beachgoers sitting out by the lake, looking for fresh entertainment.

Bill's gaze fixed on one of the humans. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong. Amongst all the tourists in their swimsuits, one man—standing ramrod straight, dressed in a black suit, holding a heavy black device with an antenna—stuck out like a sore pale thumb in a pitch black bandaid.

An agent from the Bureau of Covert Investigations. The "eagles." The same guys that had covered up President Quentin Trembley's existence, a brief sightseeing trip Bill had taken to Roswell via nuclear testing-induced dimensional rip, and the miraculous and disgusting resurrection of cult leader/possession puppet Silas Birchtree; and, the guys that had been trying to find Bill's portal in Gravity Falls since they'd detected it in the '80s. Bill wasn't the eagles' biggest fan.

But they'd never been a big enough potential threat or a big enough potential help for him to intervene in their operations. In the mid '80s, when the lead investigator in Gravity Falls had been putting together his case, Bill had considered pulling some strings and manipulating them into taking over the portal from Stanley, before concluding they'd be more likely to disassemble the portal than activate it and it was better off in Stan's clumsy care. But all the same, he'd kept watch over their operations. 

And this, if he wasn't mistaken, was the lead investigator himself. Agent Powers. What was he doing here? Bill had thought the case was closed last year after Ford wiped their memories and sent them packing. Maybe Powers was here about Trembley? Depending on what the Pines had entered into the memory gun, the eagles might still remember that part of their operations in town.

Bill would kinda like to know where Trembley was these days. He studied the agent as he slowly finished his hot dog; and then he moved in.

"Hey there, agent!" Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him start, and beamed brightly. "Welcome to town! What brings you to Gravity Falls?"

"Pardon?" Agent Powers gave Bill an appraising up-and-down look—threat assessment, probably—caught sight of his bikini top, and quickly looked him in the eye. "How did you know I'm an agent?"

"Oh, that's easy! I'm psychic."

Powers opened his mouth, paused, and then squinted skeptically at Bill.

"Just kidding. You've got an earpiece, a business suit at the beach, and the government's favorite car."

"Oh." Powers turned to glance toward where he'd parked. "Yes. I suppose so."

"Say! If you want a more covert vehicle, you oughta go to Gleeful Auto in town. You'll blend right in. Just tell 'em Mr. Locke sent you."

"Who's Mr. Locke?"

Right, Bill supposed he didn't look like much of a "Mr." at the moment. Humans didn't consider bikinis gender neutral for some reason. He took a split second to decide whether he'd get any practical benefits from trying to push past the agent's initial perception of his gender, and couldn't think of any. "Friend of mine!"

"Ah." Powers nervously looked Bill up and down again; then cleared his throat and glanced away, cheeks flushed faintly pink in the heat. "Right. Thank you, uh, citizen."

"No problem!" If Bill remembered his suits right, this agent was an easy target. Believed in "collaborating" with "local informants"; wasn't very good at the covert part of the Bureau of Covert Investigations. "You don't look like you're in town on vacation! Investigating anything interesting at the lake?"

"Well..." Powers flashed Bill a quick sideways glance before nodding vaguely toward a couple of people in dive suits further up the beach. "If you must know, we've picked up some evidence of the lake recently flooding its banks. Which is strange, because the amount of rain this area's received can't account for how high the water climbed..."

Not here about Trembley, then? "Flooding? Think there's any danger, agent? In our quiet, harmless little town?"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Powers said quickly. "But, I've said too much. I should go." He shifted his footing anxiously. He did not go.

What was that about? Bill glanced down at himself; he still looked perfectly human, didn't see anything that should make a government agent nervous. Was it the lack of shaving? Was that too Seventies Feminist for Mr. Government Suit? Was the eyepatch setting off his secret agent "Soviet supervillain in a spy movie" instincts? He couldn't have noticed Bill stealing a hot dog.

Should Bill press his luck? (Stupid question—of course he should.) "Say, you keep giving me these odd looks, agent! Anything you wanna say?"

His pink cheeks flushed darker. "Er, no, no ma'am. It's just, I uh..." He gestured vaguely toward Bill, "I... couldn't help but notice that your... sunscreen is a bit streaky."

Bill glanced down at his tan lines. Streaky? He thought the burn lines were coming out pretty crisp.

The agent went on, "I was wondering if you needed help applying it more evenly." It took a split second for him to realize what he'd just said; and then he went even redder.

Bill raised his brows. Huh. "Nooo, I'm great, thanks. It's supposed to look like that."

"Oh." Powers's brow furrowed in confusion. "All right." He nodded. "In that case, I really should be going, then."

"All right!"

But Powers hesitated again for a moment before finally moving up the beach away from Bill.

Well. Interesting. Interesting reaction.

He checked on the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines hadn't seen anything. At the moment—he squinted—they seemed to be playing poker with Bigfoot. He must not have liked Mabel's playing (unsurprising; she was an incorrigible cheat), because he picked her up and chucked her in the lake.

"She's fine," Bill muttered. "She's got her life jacket." They were good about that in this town.

He watched as Powers met up with the divers farther along the beach; and then he headed back to his towel.

####

Bill had decided his front was sufficiently roasted and was struggling to apply new sunscreen stripes to his back so he could flip over, when he overheard somebody say, "Oh hey, Toga Lady?"

Bill twisted around, already grinning in greeting before he'd even seen who was talking to him. "Heya!" It was Broken Heart and two of the others. Wendy's gang. Robbie, Tambry, and Nate. "What are you guys doing out here! You don't look like the beach types!" (In deference to the environment, all three of them had donned swim trunks and sandals; but that was as beachy as they'd gotten. Nate and Tambry were in black t-shirts advertising metal bands. Robbie was still in his hoodie. Robbie's legs nearly glowed white.)

"Hanging," Tambry said, one arm around Robbie's back and face glued to her phone.

Nate elbowed Robbie. "Dude, he's Toga Guy, remember?"

"Toga 'Lad' would be better," Tambry said.

"You sure?" Robbie asked. "Sh—he's kinda..." He gestured vaguely toward his own chest, realized that probably wasn't the best way to make his point, and finished, "uh... bikini."

"I don't want to spend my day arguing about whether I've got the right to go topless!" Bill got to his feet and planted his hands on his hips. "I could talk my way out of trouble with the police—it's the tourist parents I'm worried about." He pulled up one strap to examine his shoulder. "It's gonna ruin my tan, though."

They took in his tan in progress: several horizontal lines across his lower torso and upper thighs, a few disconnects vertical lines stretched between the horizontal ones. Tambry glanced up from her phone, snorted, and started typing faster; Nate said, "Dude, are you trying to make bricks like the triangle guy?"

Bill froze, mouth open. "Uhhh..." Sure, that was the objective—he just hadn't really expected humans to find it that obvious. Nosy little pattern-seekers. "I mean—"

"That's cool," Tambry said. "Stick it to the man."

Robbie had screwed up his face a bit, but at Tambry's reaction, he shrug-nodded and conceded, "Yeah, it's kinda punk, I guess."

Nate said, "Praise Bill or whatever, right?" He laughed. "Yeah, I thought about getting a tattoo of him. Up here or something?" He pushed a sleeve up above the snake tattoo wrapped around his left bicep to show the blank spot on his shoulder. "But my parents would flip if they ever found out. Maybe I should do the brick thing too, it's way subtler." Nate turned to the other two, lifted up his shirt, and said, "Hey Tambers, do you think I'd look cool with bricks around my waist?"

She didn't look up. "No."

"What if I got an eye on my chest too?"

"Let me think. No."

Bill watched this back and forth with wide-eyed stunned silence. Hold on. What? Praise Bill?

"Pfff, whatever!" Robbie rolled his eyes. "Hey, you're gonna regret getting a Bill tattoo once I get my sick symbol off the anti-Bill circle. It's like... giving me a permanent rock-paper-scissors win against you. For the rest of time."

Nate laughed. "Shut up, whatever man! The circle didn't even do anything."

"It would have! It was, like, glowing!"

"Heeey!" Bill stepped into the trio's line of sight again. "Right, yeah, praise Bill, by the way any of you wanna help me get my back?" He turned around to gesture over his shoulder. "Little favor between punk weirdos?"

"Yeah, sure." Tambry tucked her phone into Robbie's hoodie pocket and held out her hand for the tube of sunscreen. "Just continue the lines around your back?"

"You got it." Bill lifted his arms. "And try to keep the bricks evenly spaced."

"What is this stuff? Some kind of suntan lotion?"

"It's more like anti-sunscreen," Bill said. "By the way, you probably wanna wash your hands after this unless you want sunburned fingers." He wiggled his own fingers, which were faintly flushed from applying the first layer of sunscreen that morning.

"Hey, anti-sunscreen," Nate said, "you could call that, uh... sun-beam." He paused. "No wait, that's already a word."

Robbie laughed. "You're an idiot."

"Sooo," Bill said. "Is the triangle guy cool now? Not—not asking for any particular reason. Just curious."

"Oh, yeah," Tambry said. "Like half the school's decided he's our crazy anti-authoritarian counterculture chaos god now?" (Bill was adding that to his business card.)

Robbie said, "Somebody set up a shrine to him in a hollow tree stump behind the school. People started making animal sacrifices to him during finals week."

Nate said, "It's chicken nuggets and cafeteria tacos, but. Y'know. We didn't say live animals."

"Huh! Interesting!" Bill tried, unsuccessfully, not to sound too excited. He was hip with the youth. Who'd imagined! This was what he got for hanging out with the town's cops and politicans, he could've been exploiting this for a month. "But I think he prefers receiving gold!"

Nate laughed. "Dude, I'd prefer receiving gold, too. What we have is chicken nuggets and tacos."

"Fair enough," Bill shrugged. "By the way—if you want a Bill tattoo? The traditional style is to shave your hair and get his eye above your forehead, right here!" He tapped his skull over his brain's frontal eye fields. "It tells him right where to enter."

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect," Nate said. "I can shave, get a tattoo, and just keep my hat on until my hair grows back. No one will ever know!" (Bill tried to imagine hair growing out of his eyeball, and wished he hadn't.)

Robbie said, "Hey, weren't the Pines like... not letting you go outside because you knew him or something? That's what Wendy said."

That wasn't the story he'd told her. He'd have to find out where she'd picked that up. "Or something. It was more because of dumb academic ego-measuring contests than anything to do with that."

"So, they finally letting you outside alone now?"

"Only for group trips." Bill pointed out at the lake.

The three teens squinted toward the boat. "Whoa," Tambry said. "Are they arm-wrestling Bigfoot?"

"Oh, yeah. It was poker earlier."

For a moment, all activity ceased as the teens watched the battle out on the lake. Nate sat in the sand and propped his chin in his hand. Figuring Tambry was done with his stripes, Bill plopped onto his beach towel to watch as well.

Bigfoot defeated Stan, and Soos switched places with him to try next. Soos lasted five seconds before Bigfoot flipped him into the water. Melody scrambled to help pull him back aboard as Bigfoot pumped his fists in the air victoriously. Bill snorted.

"Bad luck," Robbie said. 

"I could beat him," Nate said. "Hey Robbie, think I could beat him?"

"Pfff, no."

"Bet Wendy could," Tambry said, recording through her phone as Bigfoot generously indulged Dipper and Mabel's attempt to take him on as a team. The guys murmured vague agreement with Tambry.

"Buuut anyway," Bill said, reluctant to let the conversation get too far away from himself, "yeah, I might've talked to the triangle guy a couple, several times."

"That's pretty cool," Nate said. "Hey, we oughta hang sometime, I bet Lee'd wanna hear about that. It'd probably drive Wendy crazy, but..."

Tambry let out a dismissive pff. "The triangle stuff's been driving Wendy crazy all year. She can take it."

"Not a fan?" Bill asked.

"Nah, she thinks the whole thing's creepy. Her and Thompson both."

"I think the whole cult thing's fine," Robbie said magnanimously. "As, y'know, one of the people prophesied to defeat him. If he ever really came back and caused trouble, we could handle it."

Bill tried not to roll his eye. Bold words out of a guy who, a couple of years ago, had left a plate of spaghetti in the woods to see if an "evil triangle" urban legend was true, and had thrown up when Bill dragged him into a dream state to show him just how true it was.

On Earth, urban legends about Bill tended to pop up and wither away in waves around the epicenter of his latest area of influence—like mushroom rings spreading away from a patch of ground they'd depleted of useful nutrients and left to die. Bill suspected the local urban legend Robbie had stumbled upon had been passed down in Gravity Falls for thirty years by teens misinterpreting Old Man McGucket's crazy ramblings about a "demon triangle" and "spaghettification."

He was always torn on whether to encourage or quash such urban legends: on the one hand, it was handy for humans to know he existed and was available for deals; but much less handy when they warned each other away from him. More than once, knowledge of him had nearly broken into the mainstream, and he'd had to put all his other plans on hold to focus on deflecting the whistleblowers' information into obscurity.

Apparently encouraging the spaghetti one had been the right move, if a year after his brief conquest of Gravity Falls the teens were offering him sacrifices rather than cursing his name.

Nate punched Robbie's arm. "Why would he cause us trouble? He's our chaos god, remember? We've given him offerings!"

"I like that attitude," Bill said. "Hanging out sounds fun! We'll... figure something out sometime." As soon as he found a way to make the Pines let him go outside without being surrounded by babysitters. Wouldn't that be humiliating, a full adult hanging out with teenagers and it's the adult who isn't allowed outside without a chaperone. No, that wasn't an option. If he came with an adult attached, they'd ditch him in a heartbeat for being too much of a drag.

The teens made their farewells and headed down the beach, Tambry and Robbie with their arms around each other again. Tambry wiped the anti-sunscreen off her hand onto the back of Robbie's hoodie.

As they went, they walked past Agent Powers—who was looking right at Bill.

Bill stared. The agent quickly looked away.

He didn't like that one bit. As he adjusted his position to lay face down on his towel, he said, "Hey, Dolores. You get the feeling we're being watched?"

"Hm?" Abuelita glanced up from her book toward Bill, then looked where he was looking. "Government." She made a disapproving noise and turned back to her book. "Nothing but trouble."

"You said it." Why was Powers so focused on Bill. He couldn't possibly be in any kind of trouble, he hadn't even existed until a month ago. And the eagles probably didn't know that, did they?

Nothing Bill could do about it in the middle of a beach trip. He propped his chin in his hand and checked on the fishing crew again.

In a fury, Bigfoot had ripped the motor off the back of the boat and lifted it over his head. The Pines family huddled together at the other end of the boat, trying to shield their heads.

A golden trout jumped out of the water, arced majestically through the air, and smacked Bigfoot in the face. Bigfoot stumbled backward and tripped out of the boat.

Hm. Maybe letting the trout go had been the right move. Bill shut his eyes and lay back down.

####

The sun was low and most of the beachgoers had gone home when the Stanowar chugged back to shore, battle-weary, disheveled, and dissatisfied. Except for Ford, who was wearing his sopping wet coat over his waders, holding one boot, and pleased as punch.

"Hey!" Bill shouted. "How'd it go!" He surreptitiously tossed half the bracelet over to Abuelita. She quietly slid it on.

Crankily, Stan yelled from the dock, "You didn't mention Bigfoot in a scuba tank!"

Bill shouted back, "Bigflipper wasn't there when I looked! What, did you expect me to check the entire spacetime continuum to find you the perfect fishing?!"

Faintly, he could hear Ford say, "See, I told you his proper name is Bigflipper."

Mabel repeatedly poked Dipper in the arm as they crossed the beach. Dipper flinched each time. "Ow, ow—Mabel. Cut it out."

"That's what you get for forgetting your sunscreen, bro-bro!"

Dipper's arms and face were bright red with a sunburn. "I didn't forget! I put it on at the beach, right before we left!"

Bill grabbed up Abuelita's empty water bottles and tossed them in the nearest trash can, along with the rest of his tube of anti-sunscreen before anyone could get a good look at it. He ignored the kids and said to Stan, "But it was a good fishing spot, right?"

Stan grumbled, but grudgingly admitted, "Yeah. Until tall, brown, and hairy showed up. We caught four fish! That's gotta be at least as good as the guys from the lodge, right?"

Bill winced. "Ooh. Sorry, they went by an hour ago with eleven fish."

Stan let out a roar of outrage and threw his fishing rod in the sand.

"Grunkle Stan, you don't go fishing to catch fish," Mabel said. "You go fishing to catch memories! Look at this!" She held up a bunch of photos. "This is a whole scrapbook spread right here! We caught sooo many memories."

"And my coat," Ford said. He was admiring his #1 Grunkle pen, which he'd taken from the coat pocket.

"I'd rather have fish," Stan grumbled. "All right, c'mon. Let's get..." He trailed off, looking past Bill. "Hey, is that...?"

Bill glanced back over his shoulder, and grimaced. Agent Powers and his protégé were watching them from the far end of the beach. Bill quickly turned back around. "Yep. Your old friends from last summer," he said. "They've been scoping out the beach all day. I don't know what they're here for—but you probably wanna get out of here." More importantly, Bill wanted to get out of here—but he didn't see any benefit to letting them know he was nervous.

"He's right," Ford said. "If they see us long enough to recognize us—and his memories start coming back..."

"Who are they?" Melody asked.

Soos whispered loudly, "I'll explain it in the car." Bill bit back the need to point out that whispering didn't make a difference as far away as the agents were.

"I don't get it," Stan said. "What are they doing back here?"

"You wanna go ask him?" Bill asked. Stan grimaced.

The Pines and Ramirez families piled back in their vehicles and headed out. Bill had the uneasy feeling that Agent Powers was focused on the Ramirez's truck as they left.

####

(How long have I been promising the Agent Powers plot, since like the May before last or something? Here it is!!

Next week, either we launch straight into the Powers plot, or I finally have the Axolotl chapters (it's chapters plural now) sufficiently edited and we do that first, because once we start the Powers plot there's no place for a break until it's over. Hopefully the Axolotl chapters will finally be ready by next Friday, but if they're not...... tough. It's fine though, you'll live.)

[satyricplotter]

keep on melting my paradigm (you're like candy)

pairing: jason todd x reader word count: a conservative 1.2k im extremely proud of thank you rating: mature warnings: suggestive language, vore-adjacent musings? reader is a little intense also. notes: i've had half of this on my drafts since that chapter of the juni ba dami story came out sjdfs it's a bit weird. title from this gay ass song.

"Do you think I'm creepy?"

Jason hums, hands flexing on the fabric of your jeans. He has an arm slung around your waist, thumb threaded through the belt hoop at your lower back. The other hand rests on the side of your thigh, and this you feel slide just a little as he ponders his answer.

"Pretty sure I wouldn't have you on my lap if I did," he says.

His eyes are closed. They have been ever since you climbed atop him, hands roaming over his face, neck, shoulders. His head thrown back against the swell of the couch's cushion, chest rising and falling in a serene cycle. You brush the tuft of white hair at his forehead back—if you can really call the motion that. It's cropped so short nowadays, there's not really much to brush back. But you relish in the feeling of it poking against the pads of your fingers, a newness to accompany a well-worn habit. You continue to scratch your nails against his scalp. Jason hums, huffs a little. You feel the vibration of his chest against yours. The afternoon stretches slow and syrupy, golden sunlight swallowing you both in and out of shadows. An uncharacteristic idyll broken by your particular neurosis.

"You might," you say. "You people are severely lacking in self-preservation."

"You people..." He repeats, quietly. Amused. Raises an eyebrow but doesn't open his eyes. "You mean the recently dead, or the murderous?"

"The running at night with a cape crowd, rather."

"I don't wear a cape," Jason points out.

"Of course you don't. You've watched The Incredibles."

"Number five on your extensive list of superhero media, if I recall correctly," he says, dryly. He opens his eyes slowly, gaze sharpening on you immediately. A milky grey, almost white—stunning. So stunning. You never tire of him. He jolts you out of your daze by literally jolting you, raising his knee abruptly so you careen further down his lap and clamp down on his shoulders with a yelp. You scoff, he laughs.

"C'mon." He squeezes your waist. "Out with it."

"I fear my fascination with the more... outlandish aspects of your appearance is disrespectful to you," you blurt out.

Immediately, you flush, avert your eyes. Jason has an incredible ability to dissect you open, sink his hands into you and rip out whatever you're trying to hide from him—all with some simple prompting. You hadn't meant to say the truth. Particularly because you know it's silly. You can see it in his face, the way he barely holds back from pulling a face you will most definitely resent. His consideration is heartwarming, considering he doesn't pull his punches on anyone else.

"You worry... about the weirdest shit," he says in the most annoying tone of wonderment. It makes you feel silly—which you are.

"I'm serious," you whine. "You have to take this seriously. What if I'm fetishizing your weird eyes and scarred body?"

"And my big tits?" He ventures.

"And your big tits," you agree.

"And my fat cock?"

"And your—you son of a bitch." You slap his arm as he guffaws. "Be! Fucking! Serious! This is a serious concern! It could be bad for your self-esteem!"

"I don't think you should be worrying about my self-esteem while hitting me. What if my arm falls off? Why don't you worry about that?"

"You're so insufferable." You roll your eyes. "You've been shot before. You can survive some light slapping. Now get with the program. Am I a creep or not?"

"Because you like me?" His eyebrows crawl up his forehead, a little sense of unease settling onto him. "Is it wrong to like me?"

"What? No, of course not!" You exclaim, frowning. "You're great."

"Sure," he snorts. You got a bone to pick with the incredulity, but now's not the time. Jason relaxes back into the couch in the meantime, the grip on your hip loosening. "Then what's the issue. You just like me. Simple as that."

"So much, Jay," you confess, too absorbed in making your point to feel embarrassed about it. "I like you so much. Too much? I feel like if I told you exactly how much, you'd be weirded out by it."

"Not really," he mutters. The hand on your waist slips up to rest at your nape, thumb pressing on a divot at the side that makes you shiver, burrow yourself closer. You drag against him, semi-hard all afternoon underneath you, which is all he wants, and exhale with shaky fortitude.

Jason cradles the back of your head, slowly opens up your neck to him. His lips are sweet as they mouth your pulse point, his breath hot and wet where he kisses. Sure and steady hands hold you in place, big and rough even through the layers of clothes. You want them on your skin, roaming your body. Wanna feel the jagged edge of every scar catch on your every groove and curve. He does this daily; this is no foreign feeling. Jason takes you on lap and holds and kisses you on the regular, and yet, though one may suppose it to be so, no tedium penetrates this daily ritual of affection. As ever, you feel alive and grateful and intoxicated.

You're wrong, Jason, you think dazedly, eyelashes sticking together with the dampness of your eyes, this can't be normal.

Every kiss from Jason is an attempt to suffocate you. His hot mouth closes in on you like a bruise, and you melt into the brute strength, because you, too are voracious. You bite at his lip, feel the sharp jab of lust stab through you at the accompanying grunt. At once you feel the heavy weight of desire and possession build up inside you. He makes you greedy, and selfish, and dangerous. You wanna punish anybody that has ever hurt him, and lock him up so nobody can see him but you, and beg on your knees so that he may never leave you, and it is all ugly and messy and undignified.

"Stop thinking," he rasps, half-pants into your mouth. You try not to whimper or follow after him when he breaks away, presses his temple against yours. He doesn't get it. You don't think he ever will. It's a loving gesture all the same. Your fingers curl on the hem of his shirt.

"I want to sink my teeth into you," you mutter against his cheek. So solid, so warm. Sticky flesh like a babe's. My love, my love, you chant.

His voice is hoarse. "Do you?"

"I think... if I could... if you let me..." You slip down to nibble at his ear, blood pounding on your own. "I'd eat you alive. Bite by bite."

Momentary silence. Bated breath. His skin under your teeth.

Jason laughs. He holds you closer. "Are you sure?" He sounds so playful. "It'd take you a while. There's a lot of me, after all," and this he punctuates by canting his hips up, grinding against you.

"Ugh," you huff, abruptly gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself. He sure knows how to keep you off track.

Maybe that's enough. Maybe he doesn't need to understand. Maybe he just... knows. And accepts it. Your terrible, unbearable love.

You nuzzle against him, cheek to the underside of his jaw. Press a kiss to the juncture of earlobe and jaw, then think better of it and go a little harder, alternating between sucking and pressing your tongue soothingly over the spot. It's something of a slobber, but his fingers tighten on your waist appreciatively.

"I've got time."

Jason smirks. "Then let's get started."

[moonstruckme]

Hi! If you are still accepting requests would you be ok with writing something with poly emt or doctor rem where your tampon string breaks? (I heard that actually happens and vowed to never use them like God that's terrifying)

Hi lovely thanks for your request and it’s also important to me that you know this is extremely (extremely) rare so I hope you’re not too freaked out! Ly <3

cw: non-sexual nudity (full disclosure, he puts his fingers in her so potential sa trigger though to be clear there's nothing even slightly malicious about it)

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 692 words

You stare down at the white braid of thread in your hand and try to take a deep breath. 

“How is it possible that I have no socks?” Remus opens the bathroom door, going to the mirror and frowning as he combs down a couple errant pieces of hair with his fingers. It’s normal for him to come in without knocking, you’re far past the point of being pee shy around him, but this morning you’re horrified at the intrusion. “I swear I’m always buying socks. Do you think you have any pairs that might fit me, lovely? I need some to wear to work.” 

“Remus,” you say. 

You try not to be alarming, but Remus is perceptive and he’s alarmed nonetheless. He turns to you with a wary expression. 

“Dove?” 

You hold up your severed string feebly. “I’ve lost my tampon.” 

“Oh.” He blinks, eyebrows lifting. “Okay. In…where?” 

“In me.” 

“Have you tried to get it out?”

You nod, feeling the burning of panicked tears in your eyes. “I can’t find it.” 

“Okay, that’s alright.” Remus hesitates for only a second before opening the cabinet and grabbing a towel. “I can get it for you. Let’s go to the bed.” 

You don’t move. “What if we can’t get it?” 

Remus stops in the doorway. Doubles back. “Hey,” he says softly, taking your hand and bending to look you in the eyes. “We’ll get it out, sweetheart. You’re not the first person this has happened to, and it’s not my first time dealing with it. Come with me, okay?” 

You follow him tentatively. Your boyfriend has the momentum of a man with a plan. You watch as he unfolds the towel partway towards the end of the bed, smoothing it out. “Climb up here for me.” 

You go where he tells you, sitting atop the towel and waiting awkwardly for your next instructions. You’ve really no clue what to do. 

Remus offers you a gentle smile. “Don’t think this will do us much good,” he says, pulling the tampon string from between your fingers. You hadn’t realized you’d still been holding onto it. “How long has it been in for?” 

“Overnight,” you answer quietly. “More than eight hours is bad, right?” 

“It’s probably fine,” he assures you. “It increases your risk for infection, but we’d know if anything had set in. I’m going to get it out, alright? You trust me?” 

You nibble your lip. “Okay.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. Lay down, try to relax.” 

You lay on your back, folding your hands on your stomach, and try not to cry. It’s not that you’re worried Remus will hurt you, or even that you’re uncomfortable with him feeling around for your tampon—you’ve been in far more compromising positions with him—just that this unforeseen and horrific development feels like a lot to adjust to after just waking up. This is not how you were expecting your morning to go. 

Remus folds one of your legs up higher (“Can you keep this here for me please, lovely?”) and soothes his hand over your hip while his other one sweeps a slow, searching circle inside you. 

“Found it,” he says. “Hold still for just a bit longer, I’ve almost…got it.” He emerges victorious, your tampon held proudly between two fingers. “See? Not so dire.” 

“Oh my god.” Your relief is immense, bigger than words. A tear slips out when you close your eyes. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, my love.” Remus pulls you upright, folding you into a hug. He sets the tampon down on the towel beside you, shushing you when you fret about getting blood on it (“What did you think it was there for?”). He sways you back and forth a few times, kisses the salty corner of your eye. “You’re alright, sweetheart. We’ll keep an eye on you to make sure nothing changes, but I don’t think it was in long enough to be too dangerous.”

“Just, thanks for your help,” you sniffle. “I was really freaking out.” 

“I can tell,” he laughs, giving you a fond squeeze. “I get why you’d be nervous, but try not to worry too much, okay? I’ve always got you.” 

[sturniqlo]

hii can u do smth about dad!matt obsessing over baby clothes in the store like u found out u were pregnant and he’s at the store the next day 😭 or js at any point in ur pregnancy and he sees baby aisle full of clothes and toys he cant contain himself

Tiny Shopping- M.S

summary: five times when matt was overly excited to shop for his baby.

cw: slight cursing, FLUFF

an: thank you anon for the idea! | lowercase intended

masterlist | mia masterlist | join my taglist

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

ONE

"babe?" matt enters his home he shares with his girlfriend. "in the kitchen." she speaks loud enough so he can hear her. "look what i got at the store." matt enters the kitchen excitedly, holding something behind his back. yesterday y/n had gave him the best news ever, they were expecting a baby.

"what'd you get?" she puts the down half eaten bagel. "well, me, nick and chris went to the store, and i saw this so i bought it." matt places the plastic bag on the counter in front of her bagel. "open it, go ahead." he pushes the bag closer to her. "okay." she says, grabbing the bag and pulls out a eeyore plushie.

"matt! it's so cute, oh my gosh." she holds it up. "i know it might the a bit early since we just found out. but, i just had to." he rounds the island and hugs her from behind. "it's never to early, babe." she turns her head and kisses him. "i love it, we can put it inside of the crib once we get one."

TWO

"how's this shirt- matt?" y/n had picked up a shirt for an even they had to go to in a couple of weeks, however when she turned around matt was nowhere to be found. "matt?" she walks around the women's section. as she steps out to the main aisle, she sees matt's curls across the women's section in the baby clothing.

"babe, i was looking for you." she smiles when she sees matt's arm is full of baby clothes. "sorry, i just saw this tiny dress and got carried away." he nods down to the pile in his arm. "a dress? we don't know what the baby is yet." she says. "i know, i know. but, i have a feeling it's a girl, plus, look at it. so so tiny." he holds it up. "oh, we definitely need to buy it." y/n nods.

"as much as i want to buy all of these. we need to bring it down a bit. we have eight more months to buy them more clothes." they had gotten a bit carried away and ended up almost filling a cart up with baby clothes. "you're right." matt bites the inside of his cheek deciding what items to put back.

THREE

"oh matt! look at this one!" nick coos holding up a fluffy bear onesie. "put it in the cart." matt rolls it over to nick. "matt," chris comes up next to matt holding up some bibs. "look at these, they all have 'my first holidays'." matt grabs the bibs and flips through them. "y/n bought these the other day but in onesie form. let's get the matching bibs." he drops them into the cart.

"we're back!" chris announces. "hey guys, what'd you guys end up getti-" y/n stops herself mid sentence when she sees each of them holding two bags from carters. "wait- before you say anything, just look at what we bought." matt says.

FOUR

both matt and y/n were laying on the couch watching harry potter, mostly matt because y/n was on her laptop scrolling through baby websites adding items into her online shopping cart. "this is cute." she says to herself, pressing the add to cart button, "can i see?" matt lifts his head up from her thighs. "it's a pair of shoes, what do you think?" she flips the screen so he can see.

"adorable. did you add them?" she nods. "you read my mind." he leans up and pecks her lips. matt goes back to watching the movie and y/n keeps on scrolling. "oh my gosh, baby look at this one." she gasps, and turns the laptop to him.

"oh, i bought that one yesterday."

FIVE

"alright, do you like this one?" matt holds up a sweater and shows the baby on his hip. the small girl only sticks her tongue out of habit. "you're right, looks like it'd be too hot." he puts it back on the rack. "let's look over here. hey, look, how about this hat." he grabs it off of the shelf and puts it on her tiny head. "awe, look at you." he coos.

"let's go look for your mommy." he heads to the cleaning supply aisle where he knows she'd be at. "baby, look at mia. we need to buy it." y/n grabs a new sponge and turns her head at matt's voice. "oh, look at my baby. you look so cute, mia." she gasps and walks over to the smiling baby on matt's hip. mia giggles at her moms coos. "i'm guessing you like it?"

[charminglyantiquated]

9/25 update on the Nautilus, for anyone curious. Details below (long), but in summary: the damage is more expensive than we'd hoped. We will have to buy Nautilus back as salvage and repair her mostly out of pocket. We still do intend to repair her, but it seems now it will be over a timeline of several years. The fundraiser for her repairs has been raised to reflect the new estimate, and will remain up as long as we're working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute. I'm so unbelievably, profoundly grateful to all of you who have helped us so far. Thank you so, so much.

Damage: a joint survey was conducted Tuesday between surveyors from our insurance and that of the other vessel. It will be another 3-4 weeks before we have the official paperwork, but the consensus was that the damage approaches twice Nautilus' value. In addition to the mast and all the attached rigging, sails, hardware, etc., the teak deck would have to come up in order to address the damage to the deck and hull. This means that rather than pay for repairs, our insurance company is almost certainly going to write her off as a total loss.

I am waiting for formal documentation before sharing any exact numbers. Once we have them I will be more precise. But the general process as I understand it right now is below, for anyone curious about how everything shakes out.

What a loss means with insurance: my understanding is that repair damages are only covered by insurance up to the point a vessel is totaled. Since the damages almost certainly surpass her value then she would be totaled instead. In this scenario, our insurance would give us the value the Nautilus was insured for, and then pursue the other vessel's insurance for their own reimbursement. Additionally the other insurance might give us the income we lost over the remainder of the season, but whether that will happen and what amount that would be is up in the air, with the three different attorneys we consulted agreeing that we'd be fortunate to get any amount. Anything beyond that is apparently unlikely, any other legal pursuit would possibly lose us more money that we might hope to gain.

On our end: we took out a loan to buy Nautilus in April, and still owe the majority of it. By the terms of the loan, with a total loss we would have to pay back the full loan immediately. Then, because this is essentially our insurance 'buying' Nautilus from us, we would have to buy her back as salvage. The salvage price would be determined by the salvageable parts of her, and the surveyor. Hopefully it would be less than five figures, but it depends heavily on which insurance company actually ends up with her, and how exhaustively they tally up the pieces of her that they could sell. The surveyors could not tell us at the time of the survey who would end up with her or what they would charge. For the next month or two Nautilus is in a kind of purgatory where we do still technically own her, but only until insurance gets through the paperwork, which makes it difficult to begin any work right now.

Financially: when the dust settles, once the loan is paid and we own Nautilus once more as salvage, I think that based on the current estimates we may have some funds remaining. But even in the best case scenario - low salvage price, and we do receive lost income - it wouldn't be enough to finance all the needed repairs. My partner and I will be keeping the fundraiser up for as long as we are working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute to her repair fund. Any help from anyone who would like to see her sailing again will always be deeply appreciated, but we're both aware it's an absurd number. If we fail to meet it, we're both keenly aware it's not through any lack of generosity - I cannot possibly express how grateful we are for the help we have received already, and what a massive difference it has made over the last month as we deal with the immediate and long-term fallout, covering her haul-out and towing and bills over the months it will likely take to resolve all this.

Fixing Nautilus: my partner and I are still committed to repairing her, despite the cost and the time involved. The thought of letting her be cut up for salvage is too heartbreaking to bear. But at the pace things are progressing and with the resources we have, it's obvious now that it's not feasible to fix her fully over the winter; it will instead be over the course of several years. However, my partner and I hope that by doing as much of the work ourselves as we are qualified for, we can bring down the overall cost of repairs by a fair amount. Additionally, the broken mast was built only a few years ago by a gentleman who still has the plans for it and is willing to guide us through the process of building a replacement. There is a possibility we can connect with a local boat building school's fledgling restoration program. And a great many people have offered their time, advice, expertise, and contacts. The timeline has changed, but we are not giving up on her.

In the meantime: with the survey done, we now have at least a general idea of what the future will look like. Since working nonstop to get Nautilus sailing again by June is not on the table any longer, my partner and I are currently figuring out a long-term plan for ourselves, our little company, and the Nautilus herself. We have discussed a few ideas, which I'll share more about once we settle on anything concrete. Nautilus herself is finally clear of wreckage, with the pieces of her mast on sawhorses beside her, her deck swept clean, solar panel plugged in, and a tarp over the worst of the damage. She's as safe as we can make her for now; there's nothing else we can do except wait for the wheels to turn.

Lastly: thank you all, more than I can say. I have been trying not to miserypost, but I have been having a very hard time dealing with this, as has my partner. It took us ten years to save the money we put into Nautilus, and the few months we were able to spend sailing her together were the happiest and proudest I have been in my life. We have lost the future we'd imagined, and regardless of how this resolves, we are never getting that time back. We are determined not to lose the Nautilus as well, but it has honestly been difficult some days to push through the grief. The one consistent silver lining has been the kindness and sympathy and outrage from everyone who has taken the time to reach out to us. I have been floored, over and over, by how many people we have rooting for us. I am never, ever going to be able to express my full gratitude to all of you. Without exaggeration, you have kept me going.

I will share more once we know more - exact numbers, exact damage, exact plans for repairs and the next steps. Until then, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

[junicult]

synopsis ; the aftermath of going days without seeing your boyfriend.

contains ; suggestive. mostly fluff tho (shocking). gn!reader, but fem in mind. established relationship — dating. drabble. reader is very desperate lol. i need harvey. this might be literate to me only. sorta proofread, i’ll look over it later.

note ; forgive me…….again……………….again.

you’re not surprised you even had the dream in the first place. it’s been nearly a week since you’ve last had sex. and it’s been days since you’ve seen him.

no wonder your subconscious is wanton. you’re more sexually-frustrated than you’ve been since you were single. unfortunately, you’ve never been able to finish due to a sex dream, so that only adds to the indelicacy of the way you handle your plants today.

to put it simply; you’re a bitch today. cursing random things that get in your way, walking around town barely throwing items at the applicants and leaving with no other word.

you’ll feel guilt later. you just can’t get this one thing out of your mind.

you detour, (is it even a detour if you knew you’d find your way here at some point in the day?) bursting into clinic as if you own the place. the air conditioning blows the pulled pieces of your ponytail, cooling your sticky skin.

the discrepancy of storming in hardly goes noticed by the woman behind the counter, nose deep in a book like usual while she waits for appointments or someone to shop. she’s used to you coming in like this, more or less.

“hey maru.” you bore, hardly sparing her a glance.

“hey farmer.” she doesn’t even have to look up, she already knows who you’re here for.

you push past the swing doors to where you know your boyfriend sits, examining files you have zero interest in (not that he’d even let you peek.) your steps are harsh, leaving a trail of dirt or something you have no care in at the moment but most-likely will later. you might even offer to mop if it’s too bad.

you push open the door to find just what you were expecting; you’re achingly handsome boyfriend with his neat brown hair, paired with his lab-coat and stethoscope as always. he’s hunched at the desk, deep “in the zone” as he would say, until your disruption has him swinging around to face the door.

only to visibly relax when he sees it’s you, and in turn pulls a smile on his previously scrunched face.

“oh! what a pleasant surprise, i was just thinking about yo—“

“you need to fuck me tonight.” you state, before the door was even shut and loud enough maru could’ve heard—a possibility that has him wincing. “y’know, if you’d like. that’d be great.”

god, seeing him only makes it worse. you want to kiss him, all over if you could. you want to grab his collar, pull him up from this tiny, squeaky office chair and press him against the wall, feel his hands, his lips, anything you can grasp—

“what?” he hesitates. his eyes pinch with concern you disregard as you step closer.

“harvey,” you whine, “i just needed to see you. oh my god, i don’t like going days without seeing you.”

he’s stunned, but his heart swoons before his brain even registers what you’re saying. though his lips seem to think before he does, accepting your own like a magnet when you press into him.

he never minds a quick peck when he’s in the office or in uniform. and he’s never been one to turn down your affections, but at this moment you’re kissing him like you only do at home. you’re stealing his breath, fingers feathering through the back of his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you always do before eventually lowering to your knees and going on with what makes him the most relaxed.

you know what you’re doing, he knows you know what you’re doing. and he also knows you’re well aware of time and place, and unfortunately for you—this will never be the place.

“what’s gotten into you?” he suspires, the action causing you to pull away with a sigh.

you have to force your gaze away from his crooked glasses and puffy lips. “i had a dream about you last night. now i’m pissed off.”

“because of me?”

“because we haven’t had sex in like, a week.” you groan, breathlessly, “i miss you.”

you could almost feel embarrassed. almost, if you didn’t already know you were stroking his ego; a task you love to do mostly because it never makes him cocky it just makes him more confident. and you love him the most when he’s feeling good about himself.

he stays mostly silent for a moment, basking in this declaration of love (lust) from you. he blinks with puppy dog eyes—you’ve always loved how much larger they get under his thick lenses.

“…all because you had a dream about me?”

you sulk, giving him a short glower. “not all because. we haven’t even seen each other since monday.”

“i know, i’m well aware. i’ve missed you too,” he nods and offers a small smile. “want to tell me what your dream was about?”

you frown, absentmindedly circling your thumb on his polyester shoulder.

“it was dirty.” you murmur.

he lets out a huff of air through his nose, already assuming as much. the confirmation feels nice however, and he purses his lips as his cheeks grow crimson.

it’s flattering knowing you think about him the same he does to you. or maybe, it easies the guilt when he wakes up the next morning.

“you were doing things…that you’re really good at…that i really miss,” you drop your butt and cup your knees like a spoiled child, subtly whining as if neglected. you almost feel like it too, which you know isn’t purposeful. he’d spend every waking moment with you if he didn’t have his own obligations.

you look up at him with a pout, almost defeated. “please come over. i’ll make you dinner.”

“honey,” he laughs, acquainted with a warm flush across his cheeks that he wears handsomely, “you never have to bribe me to see you. although i’ll gladly accept if you’re offering. what time will you be finished with work?”

“what time will you be finished?”

“probably around 5:30 today. i can come by afterwards, if you’ll be done?”

you grin, shooting back up. “i will be. i’ll make you the best dinner ever. you’ll never want to go two and a half days without seeing me ever again in your life.”

“i never wanted to to begin with!”

[screaminglygay]

third time is a charm, right? (part seven)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff, carol danvers x fem!reader (platonic), past carol danvers x natasha romanoff

summary: being surrounded by beautiful women makes you dizzy and irracional, but that´s just part of the life, hm?

warnings: swearing, ankle injury, messy relationship, that´s all i think:)

word count: 3.3k

an: what can i say? comunication is hard and messy, especially in these situationships

(italica = your thoughts)

The next morning, your ankle is still swollen and painful. Every step you take sends a sharp reminder of the previous night's events. And the headache from drinking is not much of a helper either. As you sit on the couch, contemplating your next move, you remember the business card Carol handed you. Hesitating for a moment, you finally pick up your phone and dial her number.

Fuck it.

After a few rings, Carol answers, her voice warm and slightly curious. "Danvers speaking," her voice is firm.

"Hi, Carol. It’s me, (Y/N)," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I, uh, I’m having trouble with my ankle. And you said to call you if anything… so I´m calling."

Carol's tone immediately shifts to one of concern. "Oh no, okay. Have you seen a doctor?"

You shake your head, even though she can’t see you. "No, I haven’t. I just thought it might get better on it´s own over night, but it hasn’t."

"Okay, don’t worry," Carol says reassuringly. "How about I´ll drive to yours and help you out? Or get you into the hospital?"

It doesn’t take long before you hear a knock on your door. You hobble over and open it to find Carol standing there with a warm smile, holding a small bag.

"Hi," you greet her, feeling a bit shy.

"Hey there," Carol replies, stepping inside. "I brought some supplies for your ankle. Let’s take a look." She is wearing a black lather jacket, it suits her pretty well. You on the other hand just in oversized shirt and some sweatpants... well it´s not an outfit of the century.

She helps you back to the couch and kneels down to examine your ankle, her touch gentle and careful. "This looks pretty bad. We should get some ice on it and keep it elevated. You really should see a doctor."

"I know," you admit. "I just… everything’s been a bit overwhelming and doctor on top of it is just not the cherry on top I´d like."

Carol looks up at you, her expression soft. "I get it. You’ve been through a lot. But it won´t magicaly heal on it´s own."

You nod, appreciating her concern. As she wraps your ankle with an ice pack and props it up on a cushion, you feel a sense of comfort in her presence. She moves around your apartment with ease, making sure you’re comfortable and fetching anything you need.

"So," Carol says, settling down beside you. "How are you feeling after everything that happened with Natasha and Wanda?"

You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. "I’m still processing it all. It’s hard to do it while hangover and minus one leg."

Carol chuckles. "It’s okay to feel hurt and confused. They put you in a tough spot. Literaly."

"Thanks," you say softly. "For being here. I didn’t expect you to help me like this."

Carol smiles. "What are friends for? Besides, I couldn’t leave you struggling on your own. And honestly, I kind of enjoy your company."

You laugh lightly, the first time you’ve felt a bit of joy since the fallout with Natasha and Wanda. "So we´re besties now?"

"You cried on my shoulder while being drunk, isn´t it a typical way of making girl friends?" Carol teases.

"That is a fair point, yeah." You laugh.

Carol chuckles. "How about I cook us some lunch? I make the perfect grilled cheese."

"That sounds great," you say, feeling your spirits lift.

As Carol moves to the kitchen, you watch her with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. There’s something about her that makes you feel safe and valued, a stark contrast to the tumultuous relationship with Natasha and Wanda.

"I uh… noticed you´re also a CEO," you speak up, breaking the comfortable silence.

Carol chuckles, glancing over her shoulder at you. "Yeah. It’s been quite a journey."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "How did you get into it?"

Carol turns back to the stove, flipping the sandwiches with practiced ease. " I started in the Air Force, actually. But after some… complications, I transitioned into the business world."

You nod, impressed. "That’s amazing. I can see why you and Natasha might have some… tension."

Carol laughs, shaking her head. "Yeah, you could say that. Natasha and I have a bit of a rivalry going on. She’s always been competitive, and I guess I pushed her buttons in ways she wasn’t used to."

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Carol plates the grilled cheese sandwiches and brings them over to the table, sitting down across from you. "Natasha is used to being the best at everything she does. When I started making waves with my company, she didn’t take it too well. We’ve had our fair share of professional clashes."

You smile, finding comfort in her honesty. "Has it always been this way?"

"Pretty much. When we were together, the rivalry was more playful. But after we broke up, it became more serious. She’s always been a bit salty about my successes, and I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed getting under her skin a bit." Carol asnwers.

You take a bite of the grilled cheese, savoring the warmth and flavor. "Sounds like it keeps you on your toes."

Carol nods. "It does. But honestly, I think we both thrive on it. It’s like a game we’re both determined to win."

You chew thoughtfully, feeling a bit more connected to Carol through her stories. "It must be exhausting, though. Always competing."

Carol leans back, her expression softening. "It can be. But it’s also what drives me. There’s a lot of professional pride involved. We’re both in industries where being at the top means everything. Natasha doesn’t like losing, and I’m not one to back down."

You smile, appreciating her honesty. "Like I´ve said… exhausting."

"Yeah, you get used to it after some time," Carol admits.

After finishing lunch, Carol insists on taking you to the hospital to get your ankle checked out. Reluctantly, you agree, knowing she’s right. The drive is filled with light conversation, Carol keeping your mind off the pain and the events of the previous night. Once at the hospital, a doctor examines your ankle, taking an X-ray to ensure there are no fractures.

Thankfully, it's not broken or badly sprained. The doctor advises you to rest for at least a week, keeping your ankle elevated and iced to reduce the swelling. As you leave with a wrapped ankle and a prescription for painkillers, you feel a wave of relief knowing it’s not serious. Carol stays by your side the entire time, making sure you’re comfortable and reassuring you that everything will be okay.

As you make your phone call to work, Carol drives back into your place in silence. Your boss is completly okay with you taking a break and she just wishes you to be okay soon. Carol smiles as she glance at you, "all good?"

You nod, "yeah, thanfully all good."

An hour later, you're both lounging on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing, when there's a sudden knock on the door.

You pause, feeling a flicker of anxiety. Carol notices your hesitation and gives you a questioning look. "Expecting anyone?"

You shake your head, pushing yourself up with a wince and hobbling to the door. Peering through the peephole, your heart skips a beat as you recognize the familiar faces of Natasha and Wanda standing on the other side.

"It's them," you whisper, more to yourself than to Carol.

Carol stands up, her expression turning serious. "What do you want to do? Do you want to talk to them?"

You hesitate, your mind racing. Part of you wants to hear them out, but another part remembers the hurt and betrayal. Finally, you take a deep breath and decide. "I guess I should see what they want."

With Carol staying in the living room, you open the door slightly, keeping the chain lock in place. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice steady but guarded.

Wanda looks at you with concern. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay," she says softly.

"I'm fine," you reply curtly. "I went to the hospital. They said it’s just a sprain."

Both Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in alarm. "You went to the hospital?" Natasha asks, a protective edge in her voice. "Did you drive there?!"

"I hurt my ankle," you respond, not wanting to get into details. "It´s not like I was hit by a car."

Wanda’s brow furrows in worry. "Why didn't you call us? We could have helped. Drive you there or something…"

You sigh, feeling the weight of their concern. "I didn't wanted to bother, given everything."

Natasha looks genuinely hurt. "We care about you. Despite everything, we do care."

You feel a mix of emotions, wanting to believe them but still wary. "I appreciate your concern, but I have someone helping me."

At that moment, Carol, having overheard the conversation, steps into view. "Hey, everything okay here?"

Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise at seeing Carol. "Carol?" Natasha asks, a mix of shock and confusion in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Carol crosses her arms, her expression calm but firm. "I'm helping out a friend."

Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, a hint of tension in her voice. "Of course, it’s you, Danvers. Always showing up where you're least expected."

Wanda, sensing the rising tension, gently places a hand on Natasha’s arm to calm her. "Nat, please," she says softly before turning back to you. "We are glad someone is helping you."

You look at Wanda, knowing she meant her words, you give her a small smile.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes softening a bit despite the tension. "We just want to make sure you're okay, (Y/N). That's all."

You nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I know. But right now, I need some space. Please understand that."

Wanda bites her lip, looking like she wants to say more but nodding instead. "Okay. We’ll give you space. But if you need anything, we’re here."

Natasha adds, "Take care of yourself." And looks at Carol, "Danvers," she nods.

Carol just nods, she doesn´t say anything else.

You close the door softly, leaning against it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, "god."

Carol steps closer, giving you a reassuring smile. "You handled that well."

"Thanks," you reply, feeling relieved.

...

As the days pass, your ankle gradually heals, and you find yourself less reliant on Carol's physical help. However, the friendship that blossomed during your recovery continues to thrive. You and Carol text each other regularly, sharing updates about your lives, funny anecdotes, and supportive messages. Despite the pain caused by Natasha and Wanda, Carol’s presence has been a comforting and grounding force.

One evening, as you sit on your couch scrolling through your phone, you feel a wave of nostalgia and longing. Memories of the good times with Natasha and Wanda resurface, the emotions, the feelings, the touches… You hover over their contacts, unsure of what to do. Finally, with a deep breath, you decide to reach out.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, debating between Natasha and Wanda. After a moment of indecision, you choose Wanda, her gentle nature feeling slightly less intimidating.

You: Hi, Wanda. How are you doing?

You hit send before you can overthink it. A few moments later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Wanda: Hey! I’m doing okay. How about you? How’s your ankle?

A smile tugs at your lips. Despite everything, it feels nice to hear from her.

You: It’s much better now, thanks. I’m getting back to normal, slowly but surely.

Wanda: I’m glad to hear that. We’ve been worried about you.

You: Really?

They been thinking about me… that feels nice.

Wanda: Of course. You’re important to us, even if we didn’t show it well.

You pause, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's comforting to know they care, but the hurt is still there, how could you be so stupid to think you can do only sex? You´re the person who can catch feeling even when someone will hold the door for you.

You: I appreciate that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.

Wanda: About us?

You: Yeah. I miss you both, but I’m still hurt. What Natasha said really got to me. I know what we agreed on, but that doesn´t mean it wasn´t painful.

There's a pause, and you can almost feel Wanda's regret through the screen.

Wanda: I understand. Natasha feels terrible about it. She doesn’t always handle her emotions well.

You: I get that. I just… I don’t know where we stand anymore.

Wanda: Can we talk? In person, I mean. It might be easier. All of us.

You hesitate, the fear of getting hurt again battling with the desire to mend things.

You: Can you come to mine tomorrow then?

Wanda: Is 3PM okay for you?

You: It is.

Wanda: Perfect!

You put your phone down, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Before you go to bed, you send a quick text to Carol about your conversation with Wanda, she wishes you a good luck and you have a feeling of hope, feeling that everything will be okay. You will talk like a grownups… that´s great right? Something you were always so perfect about and defiently not going quiet, when there was something you didn´t like.

It´s gonna be just fine.

...

The next day, the clock seems to tick by more slowly than usual. You try to tidy up your apartment, trying to keep busy to calm your nerves. By the time 3PM approaches, you feel a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You hear a knock at the door and take a deep breath before walking over.

Peeking through the peephole, you see Wanda and Natasha standing there. Wanda in her flower dress looks hopeful, while Natasha appears a bit more stoic, though you can see the concern in her eyes.

You open the door slightly, enough to see them but still feeling cautious. "Hey," you say softly.

"Hey," Wanda responds with a small smile. "Can we come in?"

You hop back, opening the door wider to let them in. As they enter, they both notice the slight limp in your step.

Natasha's eyes narrow with concern. "Is your ankle still hurting?"

"It's better," you say, avoiding their gazes. "I can walk, I just look like an idiot, while doing so." You chuckle, trying to ease the situation.

Natasha's face hardens. "But you´re still in pain?"

"I´m okay, nothing I can´t take." You assure them.

Wanda nods, "can we help you right now in any way?"

You slowly walk to the couch and shake your head. "No, not really. But feel free to take whatever you´d like, coffee, water…"

Natasha nods and makes a coffee for herself, while she takes a juice for you and Wanda.

You sit down, feeling the weight of their presence. "So…?"

Wanda sits across from you, her eyes soft and pleading. "We´re sorry. For everything. Natasha and I… we handled things poorly."

Natasha nods, her expression serious. "We never meant to hurt you. What I said… it was wrong, and I regret it."

You look between them, feeling the sincerity in their words. "You don´t need to apologize milion times, you know."

Wanda shakes her head. "We do. We care about you, deeply. We just didn’t know how to handle our own emotions. And we… well screw it up."

Natasha takes a deep breath. "We want to make things right. If you’re willing to give us another chance."

You sit back, contemplating their words. "Do you think I would let you in here, if I didn´t think about giving you a second chance?"

Both Wanda and Natasha look taken aback, their eyes widening in surprise.

Wanda’s gaze softens, a glimmer of hope appearing. "You’re… you’re willing to give us another chance?"

"I am doing that right now, or… that wasn´t obvious? Gosh we are really shitty at comunicating… all of us." You chuckle, making the two ladies laugh as well.

Wanda smiles, "good to know, okay."

Natasha looks down, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. “We’ve had issues with communication in the past, too. I can see now that it kinda affected us… me.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I also need to admit that I misread the situation. Even after we set terms, I hoped for something more. I thought maybe…”

Wanda reaches out to touch your hand. “We should have been clearer. But you also need to understand that we weren’t completely upfront either.”

Natasha’s expression turns serious. “The truth is, you’re not the first person we’ve been involved with. We’ve had others before you. And, honestly, it hasn’t always been great.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but also suprised that Natasha is openning up right now.

Natasha hesitates for a moment, then continues. “We’ve had partners who were… different from you. They were often rude, mean, and only interested in our money. They were possessive and only saw us for what we could provide, not who we are.”

Wanda adds, “That’s why we were so cautious with you. We didn’t want to fall into the same patterns, but in doing so, we ended up hurting you instead. Basically did the thing we were so worried about.”

Natasha looks at you, her eyes filled with regret. “I freaked out because I didn’t want you to be like them. I was afraid of repeating the mistakes we made before. And when you showed up in the office, I just… lost it completly.”

You absorb their words, feeling a mix of empathy and frustration. “Alright, I understand, but… we all have our baggage, and it’s up to us to work through it together.”

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You’re right. We need to be more open and honest about our feelings and our pasts. And we need to listen to you, too.”

Natasha nods, her expression is soft, not to firm as it was before.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m willing to work on this with you."

Wanda smiles gently. “Thank you for being willing to try. We’ll do our best to show you that we can be different.”

Natasha adds, “We’ll start by being more transparent and communicating better. That’s a promise. How about we start again?" She exhales.

"You saw me naked, I don´t think we can start again." You chuckle, while your cheeks heat up.

Wanda giggles, "then how about we go on a date, proper one? Tomorrow?"

A proper date? Hold on… so it´s not a just sex anymore. I´m confused.

Both women can notice your puzzled face and Wanda takes your hand in hers, "proper date as… we would like to try this," her hand squeezes yours, "to be more than just a sex."

Oh shit. Nice. Cool. Okay. Calm down. It´s fine. All good.

"If you don´t have plans with Davnvers, of course." Natasha speaks up, you can hear the slight jealousy in her voice. Which makes the younger woman roll her eyes at her girlfriend.

"I don´t no," you shake your head. “Tomorrow works perfectly fine for me.” You agree enthusiastically, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought of a proper date.

Nat smirks, "perfect."

"So we will pick you up at… 7PM?" Wanda smiles.

You nod, trying to ease the exitement.

With a final exchange of smiles and assurances, Wanda and Natasha prepare to leave. They give you a warm hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. As you close the door behind them you let out a squek of happiness and some kind of celebration dance? But your ankle reminds you, that dancing is not a good idea yet.

Maybe third time is really a charm!

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @arualdcg, @beholdagaywriter, @snowdrop1026, @itsdoni, @newawakening9​, @aliherreraaa, @zzswiftyzz, @lesbiantothemoonandback, @maggieromanov

If you want to be added, just let me know!:) keep in mind you have to be 18+

[firelightmlpoc]

I recently received a DM from a fellow who was a junior mod in the Shipping Container server, & they’ve been gracious enough to allow me to use their words on the current happenings, covering the events of the 0303Emily internal happenings of the server at that time.

Now, you may wonder why exactly I’m bringing up the 0303Emily debacle, much less in association with Pansear?

Well, besides the fact that the accusations leveled against 0303Emily are baseless themselves (One example of why at the bottom of this post, completely ignoring the fact that Azriel was only a month or 2 away from being 18 at the time of the accusation while 0303Emily was just 20.), they indicate a trend between both accusations that further shows minimal actual PROOF & deliberate misinterpretations of situations to then twist things into a more negative light.

Now, the statement from the junior mod:

“first off, sorry this isnt really that well worded. i dont even know where to start with all this. i wanted to offer my view on things from the internals of the SC server and some info that might explain the origins of all this. ive wanted to talk about this for a while but im not a very confrontational person and i didnt even have a tumblr or twitter

i was a helper (basically junior mod that had bare mininum perms) on SC during the entire event, and while I did not participate in the decision because it was really complex and i was busy with finals but i did lurk the convo and read a lot of it. i dont have any screenshots of this because i left a few weeks later after the entire mod team basically dissolved and the server lost all its users.

basically a while back before the grooming accusations some kids (like under 18) on the server were going around looking up artists on furaffnity, e621, and other nsfw websites and then reporting it to the mods of SC and i think mainworld too. the mods were pretty "this isnt really our business" about it and told the kids to stop snooping, and that was the end of it.

a few months later still before the grooming the issue resurfaced with the same users going after nsfw artists, they were again told to mind their business but a few weeks later came back with the grooming accusations on top of it. the key thing here is that the mod issue was heavily centered around the nsfw art that emily had been making, along with several other users who were in nsfw servers that these kids had joined to snoop around. they logged thousands of messages from multiple users and sifted through them looking for anything that could be added to this report.

again i just want to emphasize that this was not at all about Emily and Azriel at this time. The entire report was about NSFW people were doing in private NSFW sites and places that the kids had to lie and sneak into because they were LOOKING for dirt on these people. It was not just emily but around a dozen users in our server that had been perfectly fine up until this point.

there was a lot of delay with getting this report finalized and the grooming accusation came later. however given the context this seemed to raise a few red flags for the staff because the accusors had been so intense about their search for info and the fact that the conversation between them was months prior, there was some question of if the accusors had coached or otherwise convicned azriel about them being groomed just to get more dirt on emily.

Well the SC mods were tired of the NSFW artists being reported and considering the number of people being reported (again, more than just emily) and the methods the accusors had taken, decided that this was basically tantamount to stalking and kicked everyone involved.

What you see on tumblr is the response to that. They went and said "SC is run by groomer zoophiles" and everyone who had a hate boner for pansear jumped on board and it went nuclear.

I dont really know if this helps but i am just tired of sitting here being unable to speak about it because i dont have a following and i really miss pansear.”

I want to further emphasize this part:

“again i just want to emphasize that this was not at all about Emily and Azriel at this time. The entire report was about NSFW people were doing in private NSFW sites and places that the kids had to lie and sneak into because they were LOOKING for dirt on these people. It was not just emily but around a dozen users in our server that had been perfectly fine up until this point.”

Minors actively invaded adult-spaces, willingly & ACTIVELY exposed themselves to adult content EXPLICITLY to ‘dig up dirt.’

So, with that in mind, why would they stop at that? Why would they stop at something so trivial as faking screenshots? Multiple members have actively made threats to people accused & they care not about spreading a falsehood (Just look at Pansear’s old Tumblr handle!).

And here’s the example I said I’d give earlier. Azriel starts the conversation with mention of the horrors of some NSFW content from the fandom & then gives an example. 0303Emily follows up with a shared experience. This is some of the ‘proof’ that was presented in the doc Azriel & Co. put forth.

This doesn’t even mention any of the other discrepancies in their own ‘proof.’ The ‘Zoophilia’ allegations are once again Anthro on Anthro characters engaging in sexual acts, just like the allegation against Pansear.

Don’t believe me? Their own google doc is right here on this chap’s post. Read through it.

And if you want to read more, read this. It further emphasizes on this matter.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

For those who don't know, the death cap (Amanita phalloides) is one of five mushrooms, along with four Amanita species known colloquially as destroying angels, that I refer to collectively as the "deadly Amanitas". They all contain amatoxins that cause massive cell death in your liver within a few hours of consuming them, and half a cap can kill a healthy adult. There's no reliable cure, and all that can be offered is supportive care in the hopes you don't end up needing a liver transplant or simply dying.

This is why I bang the drum of identification so hard in my foraging classes. It is NOT enough to just look at a bunch of photos of mushrooms; you HAVE to be able to carry out a detailed observation of the physical characteristics of a mystery mushroom and then be able to use your observations in conjunction with LOTS of tools (not just one app or one field guide) to arrive at a positive I.D. You don't need to be a scientist to do this; you just need patience, critical thinking skills, and lots of practice.

I also want to emphasize, once again, that you should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever use an ID app as your only tool, even if it's a really solid one like iNaturalist. Apps can be wrong more than occasionally, and I treat iNat as a way to get some suggested species to look into that might match my mystery mushroom, not the end point of identification.

There's no minimum number of field guides you should use, either; I've heard the assertion that if three field guides agree it must be right, but what if there's been new information that's come out since they were published? Apps, field guides, websites, blogs, journal articles, online foraging groups, other foragers in-person, classes--these are all the many resources available to you, and if you are relying on only one, you're much more likely to end up with a dangerous misidentification.

I see my job as a foraging instructor as doing my very best to make sure you don't end up as yet another cautionary tale, not just show you a bunch of pretty pictures. We have multiple examples of people who, for example, misidentified a poisonous mushroom with an app and ended up seriously regretting it. We don't know the whole story here, but it wouldn't surprise me if that's what occurred in this instance.

Be careful, be thorough, and when in doubt, throw it out. You can also contact me any time if you want my opinion on the ID of a particular mushroom--but DO NOT take my word as your only source!

[eldritch-spouse]

Full: Twitter/X; Postimages

TW: Parasocial obsession; Sugarbaby!reader

[Fem reader]

It's odd to think how things have escalated to this point.

When you started this whole "sugar companionship", "angel" thing, you didn't exactly expect anything to come of it. More of a last ditch effort to bring in some much appreciated side money, and fulfill someone's social needs while you're at it. It would be a win-win situation, right?

You don't remember how Viridis showed up. Probably through DMs in your social media account. You didn't post too much of yourself there aside from a few photos where you felt particularly pretty, and apparently, your taste for finer items showed itself there, enough for you to get hit up by something other than a scambot and creeps.

In his defense, the guy was never rude towards you. He didn't barge in begging for nude photos or demanding attention. Viridis just told you he thought you were gorgeous, and he wanted to see you living the lavish life you deserved.

Before you could even reply, a notification drops, displaying a sum of money transferred to you. The amount was large enough to have you choke on your own saliva, hysterically cackling.

Ever since then, he's been a permanent figure in your life, constantly there through thick and thin, someone you could even call a friend, even if there's a financial power dynamic always involved in your interactions.

It was hard not to get somewhat attached to your "donator".

You got to know each other, after all. You told him about what you do for a living, and he said he was an important figure in the ring of Sloth. You are both single. He's had bad experiences with former girlfriends and feels incredibly lonely. When you felt depressed, Viridis was there to console you, a generous tip accompanying his request for you to "Go cheer yourself up ;)".

And when he felt bad, he'd buy you something, ask you to unwrap it, send him a voice message saying you loved it.

You don't know when that turned into sending him videos saying you loved him.

It feels weird. Kind of wrong. But the more money he blows on you, the more you get to do all the things your finances never allowed before, the happier you are. So what, if he just wants a little good morning text with hearts and a picture of you dressed in the clothes he buys for you? It's puzzling how he got your measurements so right without asking, but maybe he just has an eye for that kind of thing.

Eventually, things escalated to video calls. And you finally got to see Viridis.

He's a surprisingly well-kept imp, with peculiar looking horns and glazed white eyes. Much better than what the morbid side of your brain was conjuring in its growing restlessness. He'd put so much effort into that paid ten minute call, and seemed so gleeful that you'd been wearing an outfit he put together. More than that, once the nervous jitters were shed, he actually made for a great conversation partner- Were it not for the alarm, you two might have spent an hour or more rambling together.

It comes as no surprise that you eventually started doing meal time calls. He'd pay to eat with you through video call, usually dinner time, or during his breaks. He seemed excited about them every time he "booked" these sessions, even going as far as asking what you'd be eating, and if he could pay you to get the exact same type of food as his. How could you refuse?

Viridis would tell you about his day, you'd tell him about yours, and the two of you would quell your loneliness that way. Sometime he'd hint at things he wanted to buy for you, gouging your reaction, waiting for that shine in your eyes. It always seemed to put a glow on the imp's face whenever you thanked him and got bashful over his many contributions.

He'd say I love you, my pretty bijou, and as agreed, you'd say it back to him in a convincing manner.

Viridis' latest idea involves spending his day off, scheduled to match yours, "with you". As usual, he was straightforward with what he wanted, and paid more than you'd reasonably stipulate for such a service. Enough money that you'd be incredibly foolish to decline, for a single day of sucking up to him- It's not even hard to suck up to the demon, he seems to melt pretty easily from the most basic of praise or admiration.

The imp wants to video call a routine he built for you, essentially. From the moment you put on your makeup and fix your hair to leave, to breakfast where he specified, then a shopping trip to whatever locations you desire, taking breaks for whatever needs you must fulfill in between, down to the moment where you get ready for bed, under the covers, and wish him good night.

It didn't seem so bad, if only a little overwhelming given there's a lot more interaction involved. And so far, things have gone pretty well! You can't lie and say that you're not enjoying getting to spend even more money on all your favorite brands, after all. Sure, at least two separate employees asked if you were in a long distance relationship -Something Viridis was all too eager to confirm- But there's hardly been a hiccup besides that.

" Hey, what do you think about these? " You point the camera at a set of dangle earrings, made of a beautiful rose gold and diamond, molded in the shape of three little hearts. You don't mention the price tag, but it's very visible.

The demon, who appears to be reclinging in a balcony of sorts, hums. " They'd look cute on you, I like the pavé on it. Get them. "

" Hold on, there's more- " You shuffle all the bags you're holding to pan over to a different display. " What about these? "

" Sure, but you're getting the heart ones. " Viridis insists, then pauses as you study the differently styled jewelry. " I should get you something with Hell's gold, the color definitely pops more, I think you'd love some of the stuff we have here. "

" Mhmm, I bet. " You absentmindedly respond. " Too bad I don't live in Hell, hah. "

There's a slightly heavier silence for a few seconds as you worry if you've touched a nerve.

" You could come visit, bijou. "

You resist the urge to snort. " Viridis, I- "

" You know I'd pay for the expenses, right? Get you a nice hotel in Sloth, it's one of the calmer rings, and I'd come pick you up so you're not walking around alone. "

The demon smiles hopefully, taking a sip of what you assume must be some kind of sparkling wine. Nothing less dignified in a glass as unique as the one he flaunts.

" You know that's... " It's hard to deny him without outright sounding ungrateful. That's one thing you've been noticing lately, how hard it seems to deny him. " I... "

Your hesitation is answer enough, making him visibly deflate. There's a flash of sourness on his face, though it fades quickly. " I get it. That's a big step. We can talk about it another time. "

Thank fuck.

You leave that store with possibly the most beautiful pair of earrings you've ever owned, proceed to wrestle a multitude of bags into your car -Thankful Viridis can't see you sweat it out- And proceed to fix yourself up in preparation for the dinner call. It's a lot easier to go through than the entire shopping spree was. You're home, it's just the two of you, the same as any other meal call you've arranged.

" Was today fun for you, bijou? " He sighs, ever enamored it seems.

" Of course! It's always fun when I get to shop with you. " It's not even a lie. Painted nails graze over the empty pasta plate when you pick new kitchenware up. " Let me just put these in the sink. "

" Uhm, before that- " The imp interrupts as soon as you stand. " Can I ask you for something? "

" ... Yeah? "

" I was wondering if you could try out what you bought today... For me. "

" On- On camera? " You gulp, suddenly feeling a lot more timid.

" Yes. " Viridis scratches the base of his horn. " I'd just... I don't know, it makes me feel closer to you than just seeing pictures of you with it on. I'll compensate, don't worry. "

You don't doubt him.

Part of you really wants to say no. In the midst of all this, you've never once undressed for him. You've put on risky outfits that toyed with the lines of common decency, but that's not as intimate as this.

Which also means he'll pay well.

Fuck.

No.

Yes.

He's waiting...

" Uhh- Erm- I... Y-Yeah, I guess we can try that after I organize things. "

" Super! " He winks at you. " Call me when you're ready. "

And you do. With some liquid courage in your system and a healthy amount of love for disposable income, you call Jayde with all the bags laid out around your bedroom, and the phone positioned just so that he can see you stand, and the reflection of your back on the tall mirror behind you.

You're shaking lightly, it feels like the first call you had with him.

When Viridis answers, you almost don't know what to say.

He's... In his bedroom. At least you've seen it enough times to recognize it as such. Distinctly topless, however. It's the first time you've seen him somewhat undressed. Maybe he's trying to be humorous, as if saying he's half-naked in solidarity with you. It doesn't stop you from staring at a moderately attractive figure.

" Hey! You ready, sweetie? " He grins with that jagged mouth.

" Mhm, yeah. " There's a clearing of the throat. " Why don't you pick the first one? "

He did, all too eagerly. You were quick to shuffle in and out of clothes, cheeks heated, a tiny smile on your face, hoping you could simply ignore the growing discomfort. The demon looked thrilled every second of the way, and even if you could somehow feel him ogling the generous slices of skin you'd show, he made an effort to keep talking just so you'd have something else to focus on.

It's okay, he's only seeing you in your underwear from time to time. You're just doing him a one-time favor. You can forget about it later.

" I guess that's it! " You pant, spinning again so that the imp can see how the lace looks on the back of the dress he bought you. " Boy, that was a lot. "

There's some shuffling coming from the phone, he seems to be sitting straighter now. " I'm... Pretty sure I got you something else. "

There's a long pause. You almost pretend you didn't hear him while you readjust the fabric on you.

" A-Ah? Really? "

" Yeah, check those bags bijou, pretty sure that's not all. " He urges. You can hear a faint tap. tap. tap. from his side.

Well, you tried.

Viridis isn't lying, there's another set he bought for you. Except, this set, is lingerie underwear.

Throughout your shopping trip, you'd forgotten that the local mall has a lingerie store. It wasn't one you had the chance to go to many times, since everything there is so expensive, and before Viridis came along your wallet would just scream in its vicinity...

Nevertheless, you weren't cautious enough to hide it from the camera, didn't think you had to, only to be proven wrong when the imp calls for you to halt and get in. It was awkward. It was very awkward. But he seemed enamored with a green set. It had floral designs covering plenty of see-through space, framing delicate parts of the body such as the nipples.

It is a lovely garment, you won't deny that. But you know the main draw for him was that it just so happened to be a shade of green which alluded to his username. It was viridian green. You looked it up from mild paranoia, yes. This was even more personal.

He insisted you got that one, specifically that one. And so, you did.

It's right there, on the last little bag.

God fucking damn it.

" Mm y-yeah, now that you mention it, I think there is something left, right. "

He hums, and you try to draw out the search as much as you can, in spite of the fucking thing being right there, practically staring you in the eyes. You return to the camera's field of view holding the lingerie up timidly.

" How could you forget that one? It's probably the prettiest thing I ever bought you. " Viridis swoons.

" ... You think so? Everything you get me is pretty, Viridis. " Distract him distract him distract-

Predictably, he blushes a little, a small 'heh' escaping him. " Jayde. Call me Jayde. "

Your head snaps up. Oh wow, okay. We've reached that point.

" Jayde. " His face lifts visibly. " Ah, thanks. It's very cute. "

The silence that follows is more tentative, unspoken words hanging in the air.

" Glad you think so... Can't wait to see how it looks on you. " He grins wide, reminding you, for a fraction of a second, that you're dealing with a demonic monster.

" Hahah, o-ok, let me just turn the camera- "

" Actually- " Your heart sinks. " I'd like to see you put it on. "

" The lingerie? " A bit of franticness bleeds into your tone.

" Yes. "

" R-Right now? "

Jayde chuckles. " Well, it's the only thing that's left, isn't it bijou? "

You think about it for a couple of seconds, wherein the reality of your situation seems to sink in. Can you truly deny him? You don't think Jayde would have an explosive reaction to rejection, but then again, you never rejected his suggestions before. What if he gets offended? Pulls away entirely? You'll never be able to afford this lifestyle without him.

What if all of this has stopped being in your control, and, in the end, you transferred the reigns to someone else?

He reads the reluctance plainly written on your face.

" ... Just this one time, sweetie. " He coaxes. " You're incredibly beautiful, you know that? I'd give a few fingers to see you. "

He continues to speak over the mental rut you've been thrown into.

" Any man would be lucky to have a jewel like you. I want to keep spoiling you forever. Please, put it on for me? "

You don't know what it was. Perhaps the fear of losing his money, maybe it was the praise, or simply the pure desire to get this over with- But, you take off your top.

The scene isn't sexy or mischievous, you just glance away timidly as you lower the straps of your bra and reach back to unclasp it. Your slowness may be unintentionally teasing him, and from the small glances you steal at your phone, he looks stupidly concentrated, cheeks nearly as dark as yours as he finally -Finally!- Gets to see your tits.

Air catches in your throat, you can't quite tell if it's the thrill of exposing yourself or pure anxiety.

" They're gorgeous... " He murmurs. You almost didn't hear it.

Slipping the new fabric in is easier, the garment is designed with maximum comfort in mind and settles nicely on your chest, especially when you arrange your breasts into position.

" Perfect. " Jayde sighs. " I wish I could touch you. You're so perfect. "

If you weren't running hotter than a steaming kettle before, you are now. All you manage to respond with is a hum and nervous giggling.

" Put the whole thing on. "

There's a full-body shiver when you start taking your panties off. In all your nerves, you fail to remember that the mirror behind you makes it so Jayde doesn't just get a view of your mons, he also gets to stare at your ass unhindered.

" Fffucking- "

He whispers something you don't notice when the fabric drops to the floor, and you lift a leg away to pick it up.

You're sliding the new ones up your bare legs when there's a little too much shuffling being heard from his side. Not a lot, but just enough to make you escape your own internal panic.

You only now realize that you can't see his hands anywhere. One is definitely holding the phone close to him, the other... Who knows. His shoulder shifts.

" Uhm, hahah, what are you doing there? " You jokingly ask, trying to reduce the awkwardness of the situation by insinuating something ridiculous.

The teasing look shatters when he doesn't immediately respond or laugh it off. In fact, he looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

" N-!! No way! " You hurriedly fix the panties in place, choking on a breath.

" Sorry- I'm sorry, bijou- " He attempts a wobbly smile, not even denying it. " You just look so adorable flustered. You don't have to see it... Just pretend I'm not... "

Pretend I'm not jerking off, he means.

You can barely raise your voice above a whisper, doing a full turn so he can see how the lingerie sits on your body. Embarrassment has you grabbing your arm and trying to close your legs further, unwittingly flaunting exactly the curves he wants to see.

" You're gorgeous- " He repeats, eyes lidded, something far beyond lust shining in them. " You're the prettiest woman alive. You're sweet, you don't push me away or get spooked. I'm... So happy someone like you gives me the time of day. "

You don't know what to say, don't know what to do besides standing there as a monster audibly gets off on the sight of you in luxury lingerie.

" It's been too long since I met a girl like you. "

You don't quite like the intensity of his stare. Even if no man has ever directed words as flattering as these towards you, it feels like something is too intense about his demeanor.

" Jayde... " You cough. " Are you...? "

" Close. " He admits, laughing breathily. " I've never been this hard before. "

Apparently, he just said it to see you freeze and get even more flustered. " Please hurry up... "

" Are you tired, sweetheart? " His tone is near condescending.

" Y-Yeah. " Anything to speed it along.

" Uhuh, I bet. " Jayde's breathing gets shallower. " You'll go to bed soon, don't worry. "

" Mhm... " God, you're dying inside.

" I love you, bijou. "

Help.

" I... I love you too, Jayde. " You had to drag each word out of your tongue.

That did it. He's tossing his head back and furrowing his brows. You can hear the way Jayde stops breathing to hold any noises in, a groan still makes it through, you hate the traitorous flutter of your pussy that followed.

" I'm... Going to put my pajamas on now. Goodnight Jayde. " You try to break the silence while he recovers.

The expression on the imp's face can only be described as love-drunk, and sweaty.

" Goodnight, sweetie. "

As soon as the call drops, you make an inhuman noise of shame and bury yourself under the covers, kicking shopping bags aside.

It must have been mere minutes before a notification drops.

There's no doubt in you that's the demon's "compensation".

[gossippool]

what do you recommend for people who are very new to deadpool comics and looking to get into them?

hiii thank u for asking!! this is kind of a complicated question because there's no right answer really. especially with deadpool, there's no actual best starting point because besides the basic origin story that he was experimented on, everything else about him is fair game (he just lies all the time and has false memories about his past) and so all the comics are different and pretty much standalones. but here's a list of a few comics depending on what you want to explore (i have not read every deadpool comic ever so this is not the best list but i will get there):

for shorter and more lighthearted reads:

deadpool (2022)—SO so cute wade has a crush on this non-binary assassin and it's actually adorable how much he likes them lol. in terms of shorter deadpool comics i think this one is quite a standout

deadpool infinity comic (2021)—a short partnership with sue storm. funny and the art style is so cute too

dogpool infinity comic (2024)—this is just cute and logan is in it too

for a more meta read that explores exactly what makes wade unique from other superheroes:

deadpool kills the marvel universe (2011)—in my opinion THE most iconic deadpool run, i'm sure everyone's heard of it lmao. a little darker but hey cameos from every marvel character ever. this was the first deadpool comic i ever read and it was a good time

for a familiar face from deadpool and wolverine (for other specific familiar faces you could just search "deadpool vs [character]" and that comic would probably exist):

honestly just search "deadpool and wolverine" and you'll probably get the whole list but here are some i've read that are lovely:

deadpool & wolverine: wwiii (2024)

deadpool vs. wolverine: slash 'em up infinity comic (2024)

for long in-depth characterisation that explores a lot of deadpool lore:

deadpool (2012)—if you've been following me you might know this is my favourite deadpool comic ever. it's pretty depressing and much grittier than the movie deadpool you might be used to, also REALLY long so it can be daunting but it's very worth it imo. it starts to get really good by the good, the bad, and the ugly issue and there's just SO much in it. for me wade in this run is inseparable from wade as a character to me (this comic is also followed up with deadpool (2015) and despicable deadpool (2017). they're not necessary to read but it's definitely bittersweet to get to the end)

deadpool (1997)—another hulk of a comic run. i have not read this yet but i've heard very good things about it, and many people say that joe kelly is the defining deadpool writer (others say he ruined deadpool but i think the general consensus is more positive) so you could give it a go! older comics may be a little harder to read though, from experience

a lot of comics will sometimes redirect you to other comics that explore a sideplot, and the main comic will just pick up where those left off so you could miss some storyline. despite this it's not necessary to read those other comics, but if you want to avoid multiple instances of this when you first go in, then i would suggest starting with the shorter runs!!

i hope this was helpful lmao sorry this got really long but i think the starting point really is different for everyone depending on what they like

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[smews]

Re: The Veilguard worldstate and prior choices.

I know that we don't all have to have opinions about every little thing, nor do we have to share them but I just wanted to add one more voice in case others feel the same.

We haven't played the game. We don't know what the story is, not really. All of the marketing and communication from devs so far seem intent on stressing that the game will be about found family and your companions. I can see a case being made for characters being very focused on the task at hand. Harding might have opinions and stories all about every event in Inquisition, but will the events of The Veilguard present her with a situation where she would want to mention the Chargers? Would the narrative be served by it?

How much will we be interacting with Morrigan? Is she in a position where she would feel comfortable or want to mention having or not having a son when the gods are unleashing chaos? Will we get to really know her as Rook or will we interact once and then the rest of the time she shows up is just us observing her?

Will Rook even get to interact directly with the Inquisitor? Or will we only see them in Solas's memories?

What story are they really aiming to tell here? People who have gotten to play it say that it has more impactful choices and branching situations based on those choices than any other Dragon Age game. Did this branching mean that they couldn't incorporate prior decisions, or did they find that the story they wanted to tell didn't require input of previous decisions?

I'm disappointed, yes. But I'm not angry and I can think of potential reasons why they would go this route. My prior choices still matter to me and to my experience and personal narrative when playing the previous games.

My long-winded point is that we don't know. Play the game, don't play the game. Like it, don't like it. It is okay to be upset and to feel let down. I'm sure I will have some criticisms, but I can't criticize what I haven't played yet.

And for those who feel greatly affected by this, please remember that this is not a direct attack on you. The writers are telling the story that they want to tell, we get to consume it. Maybe we'll send it back to the kitchen, maybe we'll get some mods and add some salt and pepper if it's not to your taste, but please don't threaten or attack the chefs. This is not a waffle house.