#or at least. not very SMART auto

[fisheito]

When the exploration auto-select puts both my yakumos and both my morvays on one team and i have to manually break them up to distribute amongst other teams like freeze-dried rations

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hello this is just to say that I am very interested in that post you mentioned maybe making about indirect communication!

So to define Direct and Indirect communication with a pair of examples real fast:

Direct communication: "Hey, can you do the dishes?" Indirect communication: "There's dishes in the sink." (Please wash them.)

Indirect communication tends to trip a lot of ND, but especially Autistic people up because the implied request in the parentheses... doesn't always come through. So you don't do the dishes, and the Indirect communicator gets frustrated because they thought they had made that request perfectly clearly.

Which, in their defense, they did! ...in their micro-cultural language.

See, the actual purpose of Indirect Communication is to provide some extra verbal personal space and non-aggression measures in micro-cultures where people's personal autonomy has been compromised but there is also a high degree of understood social context.

Hm. That's a weird sentence. Let's try some more examples.

Indirect communication is most common in places or situations where people's ability to stay in their own lane is compromised, but everyone also shares the same base knowledge of what's going on. One example is in large cities, where people are PHYSICALLY up in each other's personal space because they're physically crowded. So cities have etiquette like "Don't make eye contact on public transit unless you actually need to address someone", so that, if people can't stop violating your personal space, they can at least signal non-aggression and give you some privacy. People raised in large cities, or who have lived there for a while all learn these unspoken rules by trial and error, some of us with more errors and trials than others.

Thus, in physically compact situations, "There's dishes in the sink" means "There's dishes in the sink." (I trust that you are already familiar with the social rules that dictate that dishes need to be done, and assume the reason you haven't done them is because you haven't seen the sink yet. I won't insult your intelligence by elaborating on the Do The Dishes Rule, because I know you are smart <3)

Speaking of Privacy, the other place indirect communication is common is in situations where people have Limited Privacy and thus everyone knows what's going on with them, and they know what's going on with everyone else, whether they want to or not. Close-knit families and religious communities often have this shared no-privacy pool, but it can also happen with you and two roommates in a 100sq ft apartment, or on a research vessel in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Since y'all are up in each other's business, indirect communication is there to prevent hostility in close quarters.

This, in a low-privacy situation, "There's dishes in the sink." means "There's dishes in the sink." (I know you are a good and responsible roommate who is maybe a little forgetful, and I trust you to have enough context from living in the live feed of everyone's life to know that I need them done. I won't insult you by suggesting your motivation was malicious in any way, and i trust you to do them <3)

So, to an indirect communicator, that was a perfectly clear request to do the dishes because OF COURSE you'd know what they meant- literally everyone else they deal with is in on this shared knowledge of social rules and daily updates. And not elaborating on that request is an affectionate sign of trust in your competence.

Except, you know. You're not.

So, you try to explain to your indie friend that "There's dishes in the sink." only sounds like an observation, and your brain will not auto-fill in the request like theirs does, so if you want me to do the dishes, just ask with words, okay?

And your indie friend understands this! but then instead of going "Hey, can you do the dishes?" they instead don't say ANYTHING until they're really frustrated with the state of the kitchen, and communicate VERY directly at you, and with great anger.

What happened?

So remember how indirect communication exists to prevent hostility and violence? That's because the threat of hostility and violence is VERY, VERY REAL.

Like you, your indirect communication friend made some mistakes while learning The Unsaid Rules and How To Use The Shared Information Pool, and the social hammer came down on them HARD. Ostracization, ridicule, maybe even actual, psychical harm. So they grew very, very afraid of violating those secret rules, and doubly so with people they like, so your indirect communication friend is facing this HUGE EMOTIONAL BLOCK when it comes to directly communicating with you, because to someone who grew up with their boundaries compromised and the threat of hostility if they violate the communication rules, communicating directly with someone they love feels really, really, really mean and they don't want to hurt or lose you.

For real, "Hey, please do the dishes" sounds like "Hey, please do the dishes." (You fucking moron who doesn't give a shit about our home and probably hates me) to them, and they don't want to talk like that to you. It's like how we never like picking the mean dialogue option in video games.

So instead they... just don't say anything at all, rather than risk a potential confrontation, and then the dishes don't get done and it turns into a REAL confrontation.

What a headache.

So what are we gonna do?

Well, you can't control your friend's actions, emotional reactions or interpersonal skills, but you can manage yours, and you're gonna have to meet them halfway, and it's gonna feel like training a skittish cat that coming out from under the couch is safe. Several-pronged approach:

DO NOT PUNISH BEHAVIOR YOU WANT TO SEE. When your friend does manage to say "Hey, please do the dishes?" don't go "UUUUGH IN A MINUTE." even if you are in the middle of something else and their timing sucks, which is probably does. Stick to either neutral responses ("Cool, let me finish this paragraph and I'll get on that") to positive responses ("Oh, sure! Thanks for letting me know!")

REWARD THE BEHAVIOR YOU WANT TO SEE. -and then actually go do the dishes to demonstrate that this approach not only is safe, it's effective. Also, praise your friend when they do a good job communicating with you. "Hey, thanks for actually asking me to do the dishes, that was really helpful." or "You're doing a great job navigating and giving me directions, this is much less stressful than the GPS" or "Thanks for being honest about how I was annoying you and bringing it up before it became a huge issue." This will kind of feel like you're an actor on sesame street teaching big bird how to say please and thank you, but honestly? that was the age most of us learned our communication skills, and we return to that teaching method because BY GOD IT WORKS.

MODEL THE BEHAVIORS YOU WANT TO SEE. Humans learn by copying, so lead by example with the kind of communication that helps you, and explain why it helps. "Hey friend, a question so I can schedule some stuff- Do you have any plans this weekend I should know about, or am I clear to paint the bathroom?"

This is the one that sucks but YOU GOTTA MEET THEM HALFWAY AND LEARN ABOUT THE CONTEXT POOL. Can't make everyone learn, and Indirect communication has it's uses (especially in modern jobs and social media), so you gotta learn their style too. I literally have a discord server that's just me where I keep notes on the life events and conditions of my friends, coworkers, neighbors and loved ones because I know I won't remember that shit, but they will kind of expect me to, and it's been a lifesaver in both not blundering into social faux pas, and actually getting around my crap memory to know them better. You can also model hybrid communication and practice your indirect skills by using an indirect request opener, but then saying the rest of the implied context aloud: "Hey, there's dishes in the sink. I know you'll do that ASAP because you're cool, I just wanted to make sure you knew they were there and needed to be washed, thanks <3"

Accept that some people aren't gonna change for reasons that are beyond their control and probably have nothing to do with you, and decide what you're willing to invest in learning to deal with them. I still have to play 5D words chess with my mother-in-law, who was raised in a close-physical-space-AND-no-privacy culture and is an excruciatingly anxious indirect communicator as a result. I can't make her go to therapy for the anxiety, and until she does, her ability to communicate effectively probably won't improve. It's got nothing to do with me, even if I'm the person she's most frequently at odds with. As a result, I have extremely limited contact with her. I don't see her for more than a few hours at a time, when we have an activity to do together, and only a handful of times a year. More than that, and I get brainworms by proxy, so for my sanity, I've limited what I am willing to do with her. Maybe your indirect communicator is someone worth effectively learning a second language for, like a lover. Maybe they're someone you can cut out of your life entirely without issue, like a manger at a retail job you can quit. You'll have to decide.

Anyway, that's my raised-bilingual ADHD/Autism Direct/indirect communicator ramble, hope it helps.

[passportclown]

heyyy I saw that you write for Transformers.. you didnt say which transformers though so Ill assume all? just ignore this if not.

could you write something for G1 Soundwave and Starscream both liking the same human reader? headcanons pls

Oh hi!! Yes, I write for all Transformers. I haven't watched them all but for any request I'd research the specific characters to write them as accurate as possible.

You didn't specify if you wanted angsty, lighthearted, etc.. so I'll go with G1 goofiness mixed with my own style. Nor did you specify romantic or platonic. But I think it's Romantic? I couldn't tell if the reader was into them both as well.. so I tried my own approach! If this isn't right, re-send an ask (if you want)! o.o Headcanons below!

Warnings: Kidnapping (but it's not taken too seriously) , slight ignorance towards human comfort and physical limitations , slightly forced relationship but it's ambiguous as to whether it's platonic yearning or romantic yearning , maybe slight yandere?? My Kofi if you feel like tipping!

Soundwave:

Well, you must have done something to get this con's attention. But now you've got it, and you're very much unlikely to lose it.

Soundwave likes to think he's calm and smart.

He's got his cassettes, he's got his position, he's got Lord Megatron.. everything's good.

He never assumed that he'd want a human as well.

And yet, he does.

He treats it as a simple desire to ignore. Like how humans crave chocolate but ignore it and get salad instead.

Well, at least, that's what he thought humans did. He soon found out that it's hard to ignore such cravings.

He couldn't stop thinking of you. So, he'd send out Ravage or Lazerbeak to watch you. Just so he could understand his strange desire further.

It didn't make sense, but he wanted you.

He watched, and admired the little things about you. But then.. one of his Cassettes informed him that Starscream was watching you as well.

He had even taken you in the recent fight..

Soundwave couldn't have that.

Starscream:

You must be quite the organic for Starscream of all Decepticons to like you.

Of course, he'd ignore his feelings at first. Or assume it's his clearly genius processor formatting some sort of plan involving an organic squishy.

But alas, he truly likes you.

Once he realizes his feelings, he denies them insistently. No way does he like a human! They're small, weak, easily crushed but..

Also cute.

He's a very rash individual. What he wants, he gets.

And he wants you.

He doesn't immediately jump into it, of course.

That'd be desperate.

He ignores the stares he gets from others, particularly Soundwave, convincing himself it was paranoia. He was being very careful!

No, he watches.. and waits..

And at the perfect moment, with you struggling to run in the midst of a Decepticon attack..

Well, who would notice if he just hid you in his cockpit?

Small ficlet:

Starscream got you to stop struggling from his affection.

Now you sat still in one hand as the other roughly pet you. He didn't quite have the hang of it, almost pulling out your hair and tugging at your clothes. His metallic hand would pat your head, then roughly slide down and grip your body. Over and over, in a repetitive motion.

He had a nasty grin, you couldn't quite tell what he was feeling but he was certainly pleased.

It's not that he's unattractive or anything, for a giant alien robot.. he is! But you were trying to avoid getting stepped on and he shoved you in a cramped space, shook you around as he walked, jostled you as he flew, and now he's roughly petting you.

Then.. Starscream jolts as the door opens.

"Starscream: Explain" A more robotic voice speaks, though it sounds as if it's accompanied by some sort of auto-tune. He really does speak like a robot constantly making a report. The Third in Command of the Decepticons, Soundwave. It's impossible to tell with his mask, but you suspect he's displeased.

"Wh- Soundwave! Why didn't you knock!? I am your superior-" Starscream yelps when Soundwave slams his hand against the wall, leaning over Starscream and prying into his mind.

There's a brief moment of absolute tension. Then Soundwave pulls back, and stares down at you. He pries you from Starscream's tight grip, attempting to be as gentle as possible. Starscream grunts, and glares at Soundwave.

"..I presume you'll be reporting this incident to Megatron and getting rid of the fleshy?" Starscream asks with a snarl, trying to pretend you mean much less to him than you actually do.

But Soundwave got enough of a read of his emotions from that peek into his mind.

"Soundwave: Might. Unless.." Soundwave continues, then leans forward once more and dangles you in front of Starscream like bait.

It works.

"Unless what?!" Starscream squawks, unable to keep up his uncaring and confident facade for more than a moment.

Soundwave stares, but not at Starscream this time.

At you.

Even you can tell through his red visor, seeing a brief flicker of light, that he's staring right at you.

"Starscream: Will share human with Soundwave."

-

That was the start of an odd situation.

Starscream didn't know as much about taking care of humans as he thought he did.

Soundwave got you a more comfortable place to rest, food, water, everything you need.

Of course, neither Decepticon let you leave.

They would routinely swap you between their respective spaces.

Starscream hated it, and Soundwave tolerated it.

But if Soundwave just took you, Starscream would make trouble.

And if Starscream kept you, Soundwave would report him.

So they're at an impasse.

And you're in the middle.

It's not all bad.

You think in some.. weird alien robot way that they both love you?

Maybe not exactly romantically, but close enough that they both want to keep and hold you.

They listen to you well enough, as long as you use honeyed words with Starscream and speak more pragmatically with Soundwave.

It's a decent exchange for them, and a new but tolerable change for you.

You might be a pet, or maybe some odd flavor of partner, maybe just a friend. It's hard to tell. But at least you don't pay rent.

I really hope you liked this. 🥺

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington

firefighter!Steve Harrington x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ SMUT, wooh boy very much smut, angst, PTSD-like behavior, rough sex, slight dubcon in the beginning, seriously it's very much smut, ok???

a/n | this was inspired by a post I saw from @carolmunson about Mr. Harrington being a fireman, need I say more? Will definitely be writing for this man again.

For a long time, Steve felt like he wasn’t really great at anything. School never came easy to him, getting by with barely passing grades. Sure he was alright at sports in high school, but that faded fast. And King Steve? Well, that was all a facade. It seemed like everyone around him had some sort of talent. Nancy was a great writer. Jonathan, a great photographer. Robin was wicked smart. Eddie had the guitar. And Steve was just… Steve. 

After Vecna was defeated, he felt listless, like he was just moving through life without any direction. He didn’t have the grades for college. He was stuck in a dead-end job. All his friends were moving on to bigger and better things, and he was watching grass grow in Hawkins. At least when the world was ending, he had a purpose. 

But then, when Operation Desert Storm kicked off in 1990, Steve realized what he was great at. He enlisted that year, shipped straight to the gulf, because the one thing Steve knew he was great at was running towards danger and somehow figuring out how to handle it. It was the worst two years of his life, fighting a useless war that no one really understood. But it was there that he met some older men, vets who had reentered service. They told him that, when he got back to civilian life, the best job for a man with a taste for chaos would be at a fire station. And they were right.

Before he served, there was still a softness that Steve let show to the people he cared for, but something slid into place, steel plates over his heart. When he returned, he was harder, quieter. He moved to Indiannapolis, and while he was only twenty-six, he fit right in with the older men at one of the local fire stations. His days fell into simple rhythms. He smoked like a chimney, waiting for the alarm to blare so he could go into auto-pilot action. He never felt more at peace than when he was running into a burning building. It made him feel useful. 

On his nights off, some of the other men at the station would usually drag him out to bars, more often strip clubs, always goading each other into trying to get laid. Steve hated it, usually getting himself so drunk he could only remember slivers of the night behind his throbbing headache the next morning. The men were downright predatory towards women, wolf-whistling and shouting from the open garage at anything with legs. Steve hated that too, but he joined in because another part of him really liked it, the false power he felt when he’d flash a smarmy grin at women passing by. 

Today was no different. An uncharacteristically sweltering day towards the end of August. It was time for monthly maintenance on the trucks and Steve had been tasked with hosing them down. He was stripped down to just his white wife beater tucked into a pair of work pants, his dog tags sticking against the slightly damp skin of his chest. He heard one of the men let out a low whistle, whipping his head around in time to catch a glance of a pretty thing in a sweet little dress.

“Hey, sugar, you wanna come take a ride on a real fire truck?”  

“Pretty girl, where you going so fast, come spend some time with me!”

The men continued lobbing borderline obscene phrases her way. Steve just chuckled, watching her stop, stricken by the men’s shouts. Her knuckles turned white around the strap of her bag.

“In your dreams, perverts. Go fuck yourselves.” The men howled at her retaliation. Usually the women didn’t stick around to give them a piece of their minds. She flipped them off and then kept walking. Steve couldn’t help but smile at her boldness. A brief interruption to the usual rhythm.

…

They got a call that night from the Indiana University Campus. A microwave had exploded in one of the dorm’s communal kitchens. The fire itself was not a big deal, but they had evacuated the entire building, a frantic crowd of teens to sift through outside. Steve and his team have been trying to figure out just how the microwave exploded in the first place, and it’s proving near impossible as they try to talk to hysterical co-eds. A freshman points him to that floor’s RA and Steve feels his stomach twist when he sees who she is. The same girl that flipped him and his cat-calling team off just that afternoon. She was still wearing that pretty dress, now with a large sweater thrown over it in the cooling night. When she saw him approaching, it was clear she remembered him as well, letting out an incredulous laugh before furrowing her brow at him.

“You’re who they called? Fan-fucking-tastic. Tell me, did you put out the fire with an extinguisher? Or did you just harass it until it smothered out?” Steve’s jaw is slack. The mouth on this chick.

“Ma’am, my team and I are just trying to figure out what caused the fire in the first place, then we’ll be out of your hair.” She huffs.

“Well, I don’t think it takes a genius to put two and two together. You take a witless freshman coupled with an ancient microwave and sooner or later you’re gonna have a fire on your hands.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side as she glares at Steve. 

“Are you referring to the freshmen you’re supposed to be in charge of? I was told you’re the RA for the floor the fire was on.” She falters, just slightly. Steve’s got her on that one.

“Look, the fire is out, douchebag. Thank you so much for your help, now can you just let us get back into our fucking dorms?” Steve’s about to tell her what he thinks of her foul mouth, when one of his team calls him over. A resident has admitted they had started the fire by putting a metal fork into the microwave on accident. It’s a quick flurry of activity, giving the kid a stern talking to, and then clearing the scene. As the students start to shuffle back into the building, Steve cranes his neck from the truck, trying to find her again, but she’s lost in the crowd. He collapses into bed that night thinking about her very angry, very pretty face.

…

It’s Friday, Steve’s night off. He’s been prodded out to a bar by some of the other men at the station. The music is blaring and the lights are dim and all Steve wants is for the (very) stiff drinks to keep coming until everything starts to blur a little. Both of his buddies have slinked off with nameless women, getting their dicks wet while they can. Steve sits alone at the bar, nursing a few fingers of whiskey, when he hears a very familiar voice ordering a beer. He whips around in his seat, and sure enough, there she is, this time in jeans that fit too good and a little tank top. His throat tightens, and then she sees him and lets out that same disbelieving laugh.

“I must be more drunk than I thought because there’s no way in hell I’m actually seeing you again.” Steve snorts at her exasperation, throwing back the rest of his whiskey, grinning around the sting.

“Sorry, baby, we meet again.”

“I’m not your baby, dickweed. Have a nice night.” She spins to walk away but Steve, seemingly loosened up by the few glasses he’s already had, stands, grabbing her wrist to yank her back towards him. She stumbles on her feet, body pressing up against his to get her bearings.

“What the fuck is your problem? You can’t just—”

Her words die in her throat as Steve brings one large palm to rest along her neck, thumb pressing under her chin to tilt her face up to him.

“You know, you should really be careful how you run that mouth, baby. Someone might have half a mind to put it to better use.” His other hand rests on her hip, fingers dipping just below the waist of her jeans. She sneers at him.

“Oh yeah? Someone like you? You gonna put me in my place, big, tough, fireman?” His fingers on her neck firm up, pressing harder into her skin. The music’s too loud to hear, but he can feel the whimper thrumming in her throat. He splits into a snide smile.

“Oh baby, I think you want me to teach you a lesson.” Her eyes are blown wide, staring up at him, lips parted.

“Mmhm. In fact, I think you’d enjoy it.” He’s dipped down to let his lips murmur right up against her ear. He can feel the way she shudders against him. She gasps when he jerks back from her, grabbing one of her wrists to pull her behind him through the crowd. Her protests die in the thumping bass of the music.

He finds the bathroom towards the back of the bar, dragging her in behind him. It’s empty, and he locks the door before turning back to her.

They’re on each other in an instant. It’s a fight for dominance, all clashing teeth and clicking spit, hands grasping at whatever bare skin they can find. He wraps his hand around her throat, pulling back to look at her, swollen lips and darkened eyes.

“My name’s Steve, baby. I’m gonna wanna hear you saying it. Do you understand?” She nods, trying to dip back into his mouth, but he muscles her around until he’s pressing her up against the wall, digging his thick thigh between her legs to press harshly against her clothed cunt. She lets out a whine.

“I said, do you understand?” He presses against her harder, drawing a gasp from her.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, bunny?”

“Yes, Steve.” He grins, keeping his hand around her throat as he licks back into her mouth. He brings his other hand to her jeans, quickly undoing them and shoving his hand down the front of her panties. When he swipes through her folds, she moans, throwing her head back against the wall.

“Aw, you’re fucking soaked. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you like me, baby.” She whimpers as he presses hard circles into her clit, starting to grind her hips against his hand. He slips two fingers down to her entrance and she preens as he starts to thrust up into her. She’s putty in his hands, a writhing mess.

“This all you need, huh doll? Just needed my fingers to shut that dirty mouth of yours up? Look how desperate you are. Fucking slut. You like getting fucked in some dirty little bathroom by a stranger, huh? You that much of a whore?” He can feel her clenching around his fingers with his words, can tell she’s close. He takes his fingers away, and she whines at the loss of his touch.

“Asked you a question, doll. Tell me, are you that big of a slut?” 

“Fuck– please, p-please keep going. I was so fucking close– please keep g-going.” He just tuts, stepping back from her, noting how unsteady he is without his hand holding her up by her neck.

“Still such a dirty mouth, I think it’s time we put it to better use, yeah?” Her mascara is running, and though she still glares at him, she nods.

“Get on your knees, like a good girl.” He starts unbuckling his belt, watching as she slowly sinks to her knees.

Her eyes widen when he takes his cock out, stroking himself lazily before stepping forward to run the head along her bottom lip.

“Gonna be good for me, baby?” She nods, gazing up at him through her damp eyelashes.

He bends down, bringing his hand to stroke her cheek before smacking her across the face. It’s light, but still enough to make her head turn, she gasps.

“Words, doll.”

“Yes, Steve, I’m gonna be good for you.” He grins, standing back upright, guiding his dick to her lips. It’s heaven as she sinks her mouth down onto his cock. When she gets about halfway down, she starts to try to pull back, but Steve has another idea. He grabs onto her hair, fisting it to keep her in place. She whimpers, bringing her palms to his thighs to try to push away.

“Shh, shh, baby. You wanna be good for me, right? You gotta take it all, pretty. Take all of me down that little throat.” He starts to cant his hips forward, until he can feel her nose grazing his pelvis, her throat constricting around his cock. He pulls her off his dick by her hair and she sputters, eyes watery and choking on air. 

“Go ahead, baby. Keep being good for me.” He doesn’t even have to guide her, she dips back in, hollowing out her cheeks around his dick before taking all of him again. Steve groans when he hears her little gags. She slowly finds a rhythm, taking him as deep as she can and pulling off to suckle at the tip.

“Got a perfect mouth, bunny. Fuck– just needed something to do with it, huh?” She moans at that and the vibrations around his cock make him throw his head back.

“You like this, baby? Getting your throat fucked?” She hums in response. Steve chuckles.

“God, you really are a whore.” He looks down and can see that she’s dipped her hand into her panties. Steve yanks her back by her hair, causing her to gasp.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, doll?” She’s a mess, spit drooling down her chin, her makeup all but fucked off. She shakes her head.

“N-no, daddy.” Her eyes go wide the minute she says it, seemingly shocked by her own words. Steve’s brain short circuits for a moment before he chuckles.

“Oh, doll. Is that what you need? You need daddy to teach you a lesson?” He’s already hauling her up by her arms, pressing her front down against the sink countertop.

“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you exactly what you need.” He yanks her jeans and panties down in one harsh swoop, causing her to whine from the stark chill of the air.

He runs his palm from the back of her thigh up to the meat of her ass, kneading into the skin there before drawing his hand back and slapping her hard. She jerks forward into the counter, and for a moment, Steve worries he’s gone too far, but then a long drawn out moan sounds from the back of her throat. He smirks.

“You’re something else, bunny. Why don’t you tell daddy what you need, huh?” He leans over her, cock slipping between her slick thighs. He pulls her head up by her hair until she’s looking at him through the mirror. He brings his lips right to her ear.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You, daddy. I need you.” He rears back to smack her ass again. 

“Gotta be more specific than that, doll.” She gasps, “y-your cock. Please, I need your cock. Need you to fuck me, daddy, please–”

“Shh, shh, pretty baby. Just had to ask, yeah? Use your words like a good girl. Daddy’s gonna give it to you.”

He strokes his cock between her folds, groaning at how wet she is before pressing up against her entrance. She keens as he starts to push in, back arching under him.

Steve lets out a low moan, “fuck, bunny, think your pretty little pussy can take all of me? S’fucking tight, christ.” She gasps as he continues to press forward, wiggling her hips back to take more of him.

“Yes, yes, I can take it, I can take it– fuck– please keep going, Steve.” They both sigh when his hips meet the plush of her ass. He hovers over her, pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades.

“God, you’re perfect. Fucking made for me.” He presses a kiss to the nape of her neck, “can I move, baby? You ok?” 

“Yes, yeah, please fuck me. Want you to fuck me, Steve.” That’s all the permission he needs, starting a desperate pace as he rolls his hips against her. His dog tags have slipped out of the collar of his shirt and are trailing the top of her spine as he continues to fuck her.

He brings one hand to snake down her front, finding her clit and drawing firm swipes across it, “need you to come for me, baby. Want you to come on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty?” She whines as he starts to draw sloppy circles around her clit.

“Y-yes, gonna come for you. Don’t stop– fuck– don’t stop.” He’s practically laying over her now, grinding his hips deeper into her. Steve can feel the pleasure pulling taut in his spine, on the brink of snapping.

“Come, baby. Come for me.” That’s all it takes. She yelps out a broken cry and he can feel her pulsing around him. He quickly pulls out, pumping himself a few times before he’s spurting all over her ass, shivering as he comes down. They’re both breathing hard, he rests his palms on the countertop, framing her body with his arms. She’s sunk down on her forearms, head dipped between her elbows. Steve takes a few deep breaths, tucking himself away before stepping back to take in his cooling spend dripping down her thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Let me clean you up.”

He keeps a hand pressed to the hilt of her spine, a reassurance as he grabs a paper towel and gets it damp before drawing it across the mess he made. She whimpers under his ministrations, and he feels his heart catch in his chest. He gets down on his knees behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of each thigh before he slowly pulls her jeans back up around her hips. Steve can’t explain it, just a while ago she was making his blood boil, but now all he wants to do is take care of her.

He steps back, letting her press up and turn around to lean back against the counter. She swipes away the drippy mascara under her eyes. Steve’s fingers flicker with the urge to cup her cheek, stroke that soft bit of skin where he can still see the dampness of her tears. She’s smiling, still a little dazed. He clears his throat.

“Wanna apologize. For that day outside the station.” Her brow furrows.

“You weren’t the one howling at me, last time I checked.”

“No, but I didn’t stop them. I know that’s not right. They shouldn’t be talking like that to anyone. I should’ve stopped them.” She shrugs.

“I’ve heard worse. I should apologize too. For being so rude that night outside the dorm. I was really stressed, you know? And seeing you brought all that rage at those bastards back. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were just trying to do your job.” She holds out her hand to him and he tentatively takes it in a firm shake. Steve speaks first.

“I’m sorry, but I’m realizing that I don’t even know your name.” She smiles and when she tells it to him, his brain starts playing it on an infinite loop, like a ditzy drugged-out drumbeat.

“Might be doing things a little backwards here, but are you hungry, wanna go get something to eat?” She grins, stepping in closer to him to let her palms span over his chest.

“Uh, yeah, you just gave me the workout of a lifetime. I’m fucking starving.” Steve feels like he’s melting under her touch. Something long dormant starting to stir.

“Still gonna have to work on that dirty mouth, huh, pretty?”

[quinloki]

you've casually ripped my heart out and took a bite so I raise you

Sun God Nika.

ACES brother.

Warrior of LIBERATION.

meeting the very not liberated "s/o" of his brother (and I mean they gave him candy so now they're auto besties )

I imagine him being torn with helping his friend even if he has to fight ace because something is obviously wrong with him.

This isnt the brother luffy remembers.

his ace would never take someone's freedom like this, he couldn't...He could never...right?

Not after all they talked about

...right?....

But he did and luffy is ridiculously emotionally smart so he knows in his gut this is the truth and he has to do something for his new friend who asked for help in getting free.

hes strong enough now.its not like he has to kill anyone to safely get you both away but why does it hurt so much? Your okay and he isn't wounded..so why?why does he feel so...so...betrayed?

..By ace?...

for not being who he looked up to anymore.

he really wants to cry. He wants to excuse his actions but that would make him just as guilty wouldn't it?

At least your free now. Even if its left his heart beating different....

Sorry for spelling mistakes !

No apologies needed, but allow me to make it Worse.

Imagine escaping Ace and ending up on Luffy’s crew - we’re not going to worry about any other surrounding details, but the important bits are that you don’t know they’re brothers.

Luffy doesn’t know the terrifying person you’re running from is his brother. Couldn’t imagine it in a million years.

Maybe it’s post time skip, post Wano even, before you, Ace and Luffy occupy the same space (I am thinking shadow reader vibes, thatch and Ace are alive, etc.)

All through Alabasta the stars just didn’t align, and at Marineford you realize Luffy’s connection to Ace and maybe that’s why you leave with Crocodile again instead of Luffy when everyone’s going their separate ways.

However it works doesn’t matter.

Its just that moment when Ace finds you, he’s relieved and delighted and the others are going to be so happy you’re alive. And for a second Luffy is almost delirious with joy.

His friend and his brother are friends and now they’ve been reunited \o/

But then Luffy looks at you, and he knows.

Your fear is palpable, but more than that he’s putting the pieces of stories he’s heard over two years ago or more together. The emotions. All the details. Your fear is so obvious and strong even the rest of the crew knows without seeing.

Luffy grabs Ace’s wrist and pulls until Ace lets go of you. He doesn’t understand at first, “Luffy what are you doing?”

But the smile fades and the expression on Luffy’s face is a mix of sorrow and despair.

“They’re afraid of you Ace, can’t you see?”

And in those words is so much more. How could you? What did you do? Why is their fear so terrible? Ace - what happen to you to change you so much?

He hasn’t hurt like this since the day he thought Kuma had slaughtered his crew.

And for that to turn into a fight? Yeah, the drums of Liberation will have an almost manic edge to them after that. They cannot be somber, so instead they’ll be a little more wild, a little more free, a little more loud to drown the pain god bears.

[blazehedgehog]

Thoughts on the whole Mr. Beast situation?

None at all and even googling it doesn't really spell it out very well. I guess someone in his network was accused of grooming? Not even he himself. Just someone he employs. And people were upset it took him so long to say or do anything about it.

Listen. If there is one person on this planet I do not care about, it's MrBeast. He is incredibly rich, getting richer, and he exists in a world entirely separated from all my interests. He is way too much of a general purpose Youtuber for me to care about. He is a content factory brand to me and I am deeply suspicious of him on every level, because he feels like a fake plastic human putting out fake plastic videos.

In my entire life, I have only seen half of one MrBeast video, ever, and it was fairly recently: I was pet sitting for a cousin last week, her son watches MrBeast, and their Samsung Smart TV auto loaded to the 24/7 MrBeast channel where he was doing some kind of isolation chamber challenge.

I was surprised how earnest and personable Jimmy himself actually was, but his entourage controlling the isolation chamber were like... they reminded me of Biff Tannen's goons from Back to the Future or something.

That vibe of being like, some combination of Yes-men, nobodies, and D-list clowns. Most people probably don't even know Biff's cronies even have names (from left to right: Skinhead, 3D and Match). They are only here to crawl around in the star's shadow and laugh at all their jokes.

The dudes in that MrBeast video felt the same way. They felt like they were grown in a vat of Youtube Prank Channel parts.

So strike one: I do not care about MrBeast. Unless he gives me two million dollars. Then I'll watch every MrBeast video ever made until the day I die.

Two, I feel like pointing fingers and accusing someone of being a groomer is like, the most boy who cried wolf witch hunt of our era. I am rapidly reaching my tolerance level for finger pointing about intent because I feel like half the time I hear about it, it's nothing. Obviously it's different when it's DrDisrespect and multiple investigations have proven he was arranging a meetup with a minor and even the man himself has come right out and said "it's true but I never went through with it so technically by the strictest letter of the law I didn't do anything illegal!"

But I also feel like there are certain communities both on discord and on tumblr where accusations of grooming get thrown around a lot more casually by the younger crowd because it's an easy way to lash out at somebody you don't like.

From the perspective of a guy like MrBeast, I'm sure if he really put his ear to the ground he'd hear a hundred accusations of grooming going in all kinds of directions.

If he was a little slow launching an investigation? He's only human. His team is only human. And treating allegations like that seriously enough to do a real thorough investigation takes a lot of work. Again, if he jumped at every time somebody pointed a finger, he'd be wasting a lot of resources. I'm willing to give him slack here. It's terrible when it's real, but a lot of the time it probably isn't.

I know sometimes I say dumb things on this blog. I can think of at least two posts right now from the last year where it sometimes hits me that I said something really dumb. And that's not even counting all the stuff I'm sure some people just straight up misunderstand me about.

But this feels like busy-body stuff. The supposed groomer was already fired on the same day the investigation was started. They haven't even found anything for or against her yet. Beyond that, who cares.

[asheurbanipal]

When it talks to you like you don't belong Ch. 2

on A03

Previous Episode | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary:

With a venomized Wade stuck with a multiversal interloper, the next goal is to find the ultimate host: Spider-Man. But what if there is no Spider-Man? Merely...Peter Parker. In a multi-verse of choices, what actually matters? Who's left standing when one of those big moments goes by?

Deadpool/Wolverine/Venom with special guest: Peter Parker!

Other important characters: Gwen Stacey, Morph/Kevin Sidney (mention)

Explicit

Words: ~7k

Chapter 2/3 in series

Content: possession, alien invasion multiverse shit, deep cut Venom lore because I'm an Advanced Comic Reader, anal sex, oral sex, dubious sexual consent, extensive talk of death

 "So you have a Peter Parker."

"I guess? If Logie says we do. I never bothered to check."

"But you don't have a Spider-Man."

"Unfortunately. 

"But you…know…about Spider-Man. Can you put that all together for me?"

"Oh, it's really stupid. You're going to hate it." Wade gave Venom's tiny little head a pat. They were currently manifesting as a little tadpole creature on Wade's forearm at Logan's insistence.

It was bad enough that another mind was living in Wade's brain. He could barely manage his own consciousness. He didn't need a whole-ass alien being living inside him. If Venom ever overtook him completely they'd all be fucked. Symbiotes were already almost indestructible, but if you threatened their current or preferred host with significant enough bodily harm, they'd at least pull back to heal. What would they be capable of if their host could auto-heal? What leverage was left? He was putting a lot of trust in Venom not being a totally bad dude. 

Logan had strongly requested that Venom remain manifested. It didn't really do anything, necessarily, to modulate their power, but having the enemy visible made him feel better. He knocked before leading Wade into Hank's lab.

"Ro, Scott. Are you still here?"

"Well, you walked off with a flamethrower, I'm not--holy shit." Scott had stood with the intent to be indignant then all the fight fell out of him. Storm was also lifting from her stool, moving up slowly to the projection from Wade's arms. Hank stayed back observing from a distance, stuck with a little with actual fear. Whatever he'd seen under the microscope must have spooked him.

"Ah," Storm raised back to her full height but kept her eyes on the symbiote. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Storm."

"Likewise. I'm Venom, for lack of a better name." 

"Very polite," Storm noted. 

"I'm super aware of the fact that you can zap me to death, so I'd prefer to stay on your good side in my current condition."

"Oh, I think I might like this alien. They're smart." Storm nodded her approval. 

"What do you mean, 'current condition.'" Scott was inching closer. Venom growled and clicked. 

"I'm not full strength. Multiverse travel takes it out of you and my current host isn't exactly…stable." Venom tilted up at Wade with a squint of their eyes. 

"Sorry for the cancer/ADHD double-hit combo, little buddy." Wade patted them again. 

"May I also touch you?" Storm asked.

"Uh, sure?" Venom moved their prominence up Wade's arm to his shoulder to allow Storm better access. Like petting a bird, she ran two fingers over the top of the symbiote's head. "Fascinating texture. Thank you."

"No problem."

"I'm having a super hard time processing all this," Scott said quietly. 

"Yeah, it takes a minute." Logan half-threw down the flamethrower. "How do I get in contact with Peter Parker?"

"I…who?" The lines between Scott's eyebrows furrowed deeper.

"Fucking…" Logan dropped into the stool that hadn't moved from before. "My timeline, we've got a guy named Spider-Man…he's a...spider…man. And according to Wade--"

"--there's a few hot little numbers copying me in at least a few other timelines. Got a glimpse of one at Avengers headquarters who was way too young, so I only looked respectfully at the potential."

"The…Avengers?" Storm asked.

"Doesn't matter." Logan waved her off, then immediately gestured an apology for dismissing her. "His real name is Peter Parker. And when I was dragged over to this timeline, I looked up some of the bigger players from mine. I don't know why he never became Spider-Man, but your Peter Parker is the big fancy CEO of a big fancy aerospace and bio-med company."

"Wait, Dr. Parker? Of Parker Industries?" Hank finally crawled down from his chair. "We've made a casual acquaintance."

"So you can contact him?" Logan asked.

"I could maybe get a hold of a secretary possibly…" Hank demurred. 

"You're telling me some guy is walking around with super powers and you guys never contacted him? You never found out and tracked him down?" Logan clicked the heels of his boots on the tiled floor. 

"If he never became Spider-Guy, maybe he never got powers?" Scott said. 

"Unlikely," Venom said slowly. Every eye snapped to them. "All the versions of you from my reality have roughly the same powers. Wade, can I show you something really quick in your mind?"

"Uhhhh. Sure." Wade stared forward for half a moment, then snapped back. "Oh, yeah, if that's your Spider-Man, that's the same suit I saw coming out of the tower. Only yours has a fantastic ass. What the fuck?"

"Oh, it's immaculate." 

"Can we not?" Logan snapped. It was one thing when Wade vaguely commented on real-life attractive bodies. That was something they could at least both enjoy then fuck it out later. The image of some inter-dimensional ass imprinted as an image in Wade's brain felt…different. Weird and different. 

Wade pouted at him, and Venom made an eyerolling motion with their eyespots. 

"If you guys can't get a hold of him, we'll do it the old-fashioned way." Logan got up from his stool. Time to stalk a CEO.

#####

It's really nice through here. We didn't come upstate very often when we lived in New York.

Oh, yeah, I really like the sort of tree thing they've got going. Yet you're still in civilization. There's this IHOP we stop at sometimes going into or coming back from the city. 

Which, by the way, did I feed you enough this morning? For breakfast? Considering there were no brains on the menu…

That's sweet of you to ask, honey. Enough cheese and chocolate, and I'll be fine.

Oh good. Good. I don't think I can get away with eating that kind of head. 

"Wade, you've been quiet. I get nervous when you're quiet." Logan reached across the console to squeeze his thigh. Before getting on the road, the symbiote had dolled him up in jeans and a t-shirt. They weren't like regular clothes, though. Everything he touched or touched him had a thick barrier around it. Even Logan's fingers creeping up to his no-no bits felt distant. 

Yet you're always telling me to shut up. 

Fucking hypocrite. You don't have to put up with that.

I keep forgetting you can hear my inner monologue. 

Would you like me to not respond when you're talking to yourself? It's harder to tell the difference with you, not gonna lie.

No, it's fine. I'll just need to get used to it. 

"Wade?"

"Talking to the alien in my brain, jelly bean." Wade rested his hand on top of Logan's.

"Anything new and exciting to share?" Logan asked. 

"Just talking about the scenery. Also, Venom says you should use more lotion. Your hands are dry as a…uhm…."

Devil Dinosaur's ballsack?

"Devil Dinosaur's ballsack," Wade finished. 

"You don't complain when they're inside you," Logan retorted. 

I knew he was hornier than he let on.

Right? He hides it well. 

hmmm…

Can you tell me more about Kevin Sidney? This Morph guy?

He's probably different on my world than wherever this Wolverine's from. 

Yeah, but…

If you're trying to torture yourself…

No! I'm just…curious…He doesn't talk about his timeline. Just want a hint of something to work from, and he seemed really…something…about this Kevin guy when you mentioned him.

The symbiote hesitated with a full-body hum, thinking. 

We weren't best friends or anything, so I saw a lot of this from a distance. I was back in New York when they got hitched, though, and Wolverine just…

Some images flashed in Wade's brain, but they didn't make any sense. Venom reorganized them. 

It was a year or two before M-Day. You guys didn't have that, I think. We were kind of back on our villain shit, for a bit, but we never really had major beef with the X-Men. Still, he came and found us in our little crack-den hovel apartment a few days ahead of time. And he told us that if we kept our fellow shitheel elements at bay on his wedding day, he'd throw some heads my way.

Did you?

Well, he also threatened to incinerate me, so yeah. But also…

Venom did the parasite equivalent of staring out the window a moment. 

Eddie convinced me. Showed me what marriage was like, and it seemed interesting. I was neutral about the guy, and he'd just given me free reign to get a little bitey. So I might have done a few circuits through the woods around the X-Mansion. Beat the fuck out of Sabretooth. That was fun. You ever fought that guy?

Yeah! Guy's an asshole. 

Right? Anyway…I peeked into their wedding reception. Wolverine and Morph seemed happy. Made Eddie sad, though. My takeaway is that marriage is complicated. 

Yeah…yeah it is.

Not that I've been married, but like…you know. 

Hm….oh…Who's Vanessa? Every time you think of her you skate off it, but you just thought of her again.

Wait, I did? 

Ah, you don't realize you do it. I get it. If you don't want to talk about her, that's fine. 

No, I just…I don't know what I'd say. She said I was "lost" and "unfocused" and left me. She was willing to stick with me through cancer, but maybe that's because she saw an end date. 

You're mad about it. 

" This many years later? Yeah, I'm kinda pissed." The words emerged out loud. Logan jumped out of his seat next to him. 

"Sorry, I was talking to Venom," Wade said. 

"This whole time? That's…I've never seen that before." Logan's hand was still on his thigh, and it squeezed in a few small pulses.

"Whadaya mean?"

"All the others walked around talking to themselves."

The others were shit at internal narrative reflection. You're extremely good. I was able to figure out how to talk to you quickly.

"Apparently my constant inner monologue makes me an alien-talking savant." Wade tapped his fingers on the top of Logan's hand. "We were talking about Vanessa."

"Oh." Logan shifted uneasily. "We haven't seen her in a minute, have we?"

"Yeah, kind of on purpose. At first, it was because it kinda stung, still. The more I sit on it, though, the more I get mad about it, you know? If she broke up with me from the cancer? Totally get it. I wanted her to. I left her, even. If she never took me back after the shit with Frances. Yeah, that would make sense. If after the break-in at our apartment she wanted to break up because she was afraid for her life being with me, I wouldn't even be mad about that. That's so fucking logical.

"But no. She just…fell out of love with me then blamed me for it. She outgrew me but never gave me the chance to catch up."

"I never knew that's how you felt," Logan said. "I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge. Like what? I'm supposed to complain about an ex when I've got a boyfriend who blows by back out in new, unfathomable ways?" Wade squeezed Logan's hand. "And I guess is my soul mate and stuff."

"We're not doing the soul mate thing, again."

"You don't want to do a flashback episode? Give the alien a little clip show of our lives together so far?"

You don't need to do that. I already made my own from your memories. There is…just…so much dick in here.

Haha…yeah….

There's a surprising amount of Wolverine in here, too.

He's my boyfriend and my lifelong crush…

No I mean his…life essence. Like when I switch hosts, I take a little of them with me, and a little of me is left behind in them. 

Can that be transferred via…fluids.

Ew and no. It's more…existential than that.

Well we did kind of atomize together one time…

Ah that might be it. It's given you a strong connection.

Oh…is it possible…

You're about to ask me a question that I don't have an answer to. Thinking about it is gonna fuck you up. Don't. 

Okay, Mx. Alien intelligence from beyond the galaxy, god.

I'm gonna put you to sleep.

Wha-?

A voice ripped from his throat. It mostly sounded like him, but he wasn't the one forming the words. 

"Wolverine. Wade's brain is overheating. I'm going to put him to sleep."

"Ah…okay." Logan's hand dug into Wade's thigh.

"Only a thirty to forty-five minute nap, then he'll wake on his own. If you need him before that, just ask. I can hear you. Please don't stab us. He might be into it, but I'm not."

"Oh…okay. Yeah. I'm amenable to that."

"Alright."

Wade felt his head flop over gently until his head leaned against the window. Then he was out. 

#####

Logan sat in the parking lot of the Baxter building thinking. Wade should be waking up any sec-

"Jesus," he yawned as he woke up. "I haven't slept like that since I was in the single digits. Not a single nightmare. Come to think of it, I don't remember any last night, either."

"Because I ate them."

They both jumped as Venom manifested on Wade's shoulder. They hinged to look around in all directions through the windows and skylight.

"I can sense him," they said.

"Yeah, he's probably up on that top floor doing CEO shit," Logan replied. "Thinking about how to do this."

"I assumed we'd be walking in, kicking ass, and taking names etc etc etc." Wade cracked his knuckles. 

"I like Peter," Logan said gently. "Well, the version I know. He's a genuinely good guy. It's actually extremely fucking frustrating. We're not politely getting past any of his secretaries or security, and I don't want to do it impolitely. So I'm thinking." 

"We should go to his house, instead," Venom said. "Too many other people here. Too much security. He never thinks to secure his house, though."

"You need to stop saying such disconcerting shit," Wade said.

"I have a lot of experience stalking this specific dude. He's a creature of habit. Also I need him alive, right now. So…"

"Well we don't have his address--" Logan started.

"Take me inside, and follow Wade's lead." 

Wade's body jerked as Venom changed his outfit to a suit and tie, then pulled him out of the car. His first few weird steps had evened out smoothly by the time they made it to the front door. There was a sort of swagger in Wade's step that was different from his usual one. Normally, out of his red suit, he tended to keep his head down, tucked in a hood, avoiding eye contact, trying to reduce his visibility despite his size. With the symbiote inside, he was forward and tall, bringing his hands to the front of his suit jacket to make sure the seams laid straight with a sense of purpose. 

Logan stayed back a few feet as Logan rolled up to the main reception.

"Hello, I'm Cullen Bunn here for Miguel O'Hara. Should be expecting me."

Whatever the front desk secretary was about to say, she froze stiff. A black tendril had dripped down from the edge of Wade's suit, over the counter, and down into her hands. She rolled away stiffly and typed furiously into the computer, staring at the screen for a few moments. Her body snapped as the tendril recoiled, and she refocused on Wade. 

"Oh, apologies, I just got the text message that he wants to meet off-campus. Sorry for bothering you." 

She barely had time to process the interaction before Wade had turned from the counter and was walking confidently across the lobby and out the door. Logan caught up as they swung through the revolving door. 

"What the fuck was that?"

"Venom looked up his address in the employee directory. Now I have it in my memory. I can put it in the GPS." Wade shook his hands, and his stride started easing off, Venom giving some of the control back. "Almost fucked up. We don't have a Miguel O'Hara, apparently." 

"Expected it to be bigger, honestly," Wade said. "Maybe it's just the guest house."

"We were able to get through the gate behind that other car, though," Venom pointed out from his resting spot on the dashboard. "What did I say about security?"

Logan had found a place to park the car in a cul-du-sac slightly across the way from Peter's house. It was getting on into the evening, and he wasn't home, yet. 

"Man's got a terrible work-life balance," Logan murmured. "Oh, huh…"

The front door had opened, a woman's silhouette appearing for half a moment before the door closed again. 

"Mary Jane?" Venom hissed.

"In my timeline, they're divorced as fuck, and it was not pretty." Logan tapped the steering wheel.

"In mine," Venom said, "Peter made a deal with Mephisto that they were never married to begin with in exchange for resurrecting his aunt and everyone forgetting his identity after he revealed it on live television."

"What the absolute fuck does all that mean?" Wade asked. 

"Wait, but you retained the memories?" Logan asked in turn.

"Peter vented to Flash about it. Then I got it from Flash's brain when we bonded." Venom slithered back up inside Wade's chest.

"Can't decide whether multiverse shit, magic shit, or alien shit is worse," Logan sighed.

"Why can't it all just be mutants and mutates," Wade agreed. "Way more straightforward and not confusing and full of clones and time-travel at all."

A woman wrapped her knuckles on the window. This wasn't Mary Jane. Not the one he had met. It was a woman with long blond hair pulled up to the nape of her neck. Logan rolled the window down. 

"Hey, so you've been out here, what an hour and a half? And haven't come in to kidnap me and the kids or tie us up or anything. So I'm assuming you're here for Peter, specifically, but you need to surprise him for some reason. So are you conscientious bad guys or good guys with ever so slightly nefarious  but overall good intentions?"

"The second one mostly," Wade replied across Logan's chest. 

"So I can invite you in and you'll be super cool and not traumatize my children or bust my house up?"

"That would be very kind of you, Mrs. Parker," Logan said. He was nothing if not fucking polite, at least.

She chuffed at him.

"Gwen Stacey-Parker, and I'll ask you to use the whole double-barrel, please."

"Yes of course."

"Now can you tell me who you are?" she asked as she led them up to the front door and into the foyer.

"Logan Howlett, ma'am, and this is Wade Wilson." He wouldn't normally speak for Wade, but he was tense in his gut. On a good day, there was only a seventy percent chance Wade would actually behave himself. In his current state, he didn't know how drastically the probability for social disaster had changed. Better to keep things pinned tighter. 

"Have any goofy codenames? Sorry for presuming but you give off superpowered vibes." Her messy bun did a little sway as she turned over her shoulder at them. "Wait no. That defeats the purpose if you tell me, doesn't it? Nevermind. We are a pro-mutant house, though. So…" 

She had brought them through the foyer, past a glass-door office, a mother-in-law suite off to the right, to a formal dining room. A large kitchen, living room, and a small informal dining were beyond. A girl and a boy, maybe eleven and six, were serving themselves from a huge tray of lasagna. Gwen had dipped into the kitchen behind them and returned with plates. 

"Already put Peter's in the microwave, so there's plenty to go around." She handed them the plates then moved around to the head of the table. "May, Bengy, this is Mr. Howlett and Mr. Wade. They're friends of daddy, and they're going to join us for dinner until he gets home. Which he should, soon." She sat down. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, he doesn't usually come home this late. West coast video meeting probably went long." 

She gestured to the empty chairs at the end of the table. 

"Seriously. Sit. You're making me nervous." 

"Here, have some garlic bread." May slid them the serving platter. Logan found himself still hesitating, but Wade broke the tension by digging into the glass tray before dropping down next to Bengy. 

"Hey can you pass me the sprinkle cheese, little man?" Wade gestured to the green canister of powdered parmesan. 

"Yeah!" Bengy said. He then spat webbing from the inside of his wrist, circling the canister, then flung it across the table. Wade caught it. Gwen visibly tensed at the end of the table. 

"That's pretty good aim, little man, but you're stronger than you think you are. Gotta pull it back a little."

Bengy nodded enthusiastically. 

Logan finally had a plate and sat down near May, trying to keep track of everything that was happening. His Spider-Man didn't have kids. It was a whole horrifically traumatic thing that had spread in gossip through the X-Men and other groups of super-powered people. Seeing this possible reality felt like a betrayal to the man he had known. 

"Little early to be developing mutant powers. Have you contacted the school?" Logan tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Not like he had any idea how to actually raise a kid of his own. He'd been a drunk uncle figure at best. Gwen ran her fingers through Bengy's hair. 

"We're doing okay, so far. He knows not to use his power at school or in public. We'll readdress it when he's older. Rather leave the space for kids who really need it."

"That's fair," Logan replied. "Wade and I help train kids there. How to use their powers without hurting themselves and each other."

"I'm the punishment," Wade said. "Break a rule and you have to fight me one v one."

"He's joking," Logan insisted, knowing that he kind of wasn't. Sometimes the threat of extreme violence was the only thing that worked on a churlish seventeen year old mutant.

"So you guys are mutants?" May asked, only half attending to her lasagna.

"May…" Gwen hissed. 

"I mean, I opened the conversation," Logan said. He turned to May, trying to figure out how to be gentle. "Yes, but it's generally rude to just…ask that." She rolled her eyes so perfectly it was cliche.

"Is it rude to ask what your powers are?" She finally took an actual bite of her food.

"We both have super healing. But I also have…uh…claws…and Wade is extra fast and strong." Logan ran the words through his head, trying to find the places a kid might pick that apart and ask questions.

"I mean, I'm not technically a mutant," Wade waffled. 

"Let's not over complicate it," Logan replied. 

"Claws?" Bengy asked with a squeak of interest.

"Uhm…" Logan glanced at Gwen, and she nodded with a shrug. He lifted a hand and flashed his claws, flicking them out slower than usual. 

"Holy shit, that's cool," May said.

"Language," Gwen admonished. 

"If I don't end up with powers after Dad and Bengy…" May grumbled. 

"May!" And this was sharper. A bark on the edge of doling out punishment. The table ricocheted with the silence it created. 

The front door opened with a vocal alert from the security system. 

"Sorry. West coast meeting went long." Peter's voice was quick and familiar. It was the thing he knew best, after all. Certainly not his face.

"Your dinner's in the microwave, but we've got some guests," Gwen called to him. 

Peter appeared in the archway of the formal dining, jacket halfway down his arms. When his eyes landed on Logan they lifted in recognition. So this Logan had met this Peter at least once. Peter sighed.

"You people never leave 'til you say your peace, so let's get this over with. We can talk in my office.

#####

i love him i love him i love him

Sounds like me when I'm getting that good dicking down.

Again, ew.

 But also, it's still a part of me. I can't shake him even after all this time. Looking at him makes it worse. 

He's hot as fuck. I don't blame you. 

That's not…nevermind. You physically can't understand.

Peter rearranged the chairs in the front room with glass doors so that they sat in a triangle. The far wall was mostly built-in bookcases and filled with complex science texts. The computer setup was set into "standing desk" mode, but it was also on wheels. That too, he moved out of the way. His suit jacket went over his desk chair and his sleeves rolled up to reveal lean muscle and a fit form. 

I would have the hugest crush on this man if I knew he existed.

When porno mags were still a thing, at least three of them offered him a spread.

I can see it.

"So what do you gentlemen want, exactly?" He gestured to the chairs. "And don't take this the wrong way…but I sort of thought you were dead, Wolverine." 

"Oh! Can I explain it!" Wade clapped his hands rapidly. 

"You were there for all it," Logan acquiesced. 

Wade tried to start with being kidnapped by the TVA until he realized he had to go all the way back to Cable for everything to make sense. Peter listened quietly, for his part. And when he glanced sideways at Logan, he too was rapt with attention. For whatever Logan hadn't told him about his timeline, Wade hadn't really volunteered certain details either. They had just never seemed relevant. Maybe they should have come up before this. 

"So there are different versions of me on different timelines, and on those I actually use my powers?" Peter leaned in, confounded and surprised, elbows on his knees. 

"Basically," Wade said. "Why aren't you, though? What's your deal?" Wade reached over and poked him in the shoulder. 

Peter leaned back, crossing his arms over his sexy sexy chest. 

"I was fifteen. Got bit by a…this is going to sound so stupid…"

"Radioactive spider," Wade and Logan said in unison.

"Oh," Peter said. "Right. I guess in the grand scheme of things…Anyway. Wake up with these powers, and I immediately thought 'oh shit, I'm a mutant. These are my mutant powers.' Didn't want to wait for Charles Xavier to show up, so I just called the school. They said they couldn't 'read' me, so I wasn't a mutant. Don't know how that works."

"It's called Cerebro," Wade said knowingly. "It's wiiiiildd."

"Of course." Peter rolled his eyes, and he looked exactly like his daughter. "Anyway, I was totally lost, right? Then I heard about a group for teens with powers that met in secret. I snuck out. Got there and the vibes were…bad…real bad. Think it was a Magneto recruiting ground.

"In the meantime, my Uncle Ben realized I was gone and saw where I had written the address on a sticky note. So he drives over into the Bronx from Queens to find me.

"I come out of this old warehouse where this meeting happened, and I'm just trying to make it to the bus. When suddenly this guy is barreling down the sidewalk at me with someone's purse. And they always tell you to just let it go, you know? Your life's not worth a wallet. But I was just so mad about everything. About the conversation with Xavier. About all these screwed up changes that I didn't know what to do with. And no one wants to help me. So I'm like 'let me take matters into my own hands.' I'm so confident that I could win any fight I started, at this point.

"So I shoulder-check this guy. Try to pick a fight on purpose. I start yelling at him, pushing him. I don't even know what I was saying, I was so pissed. That of course escalates everything, and he whips out a gun.

"And I hear my Uncle Ben. Calling out. Trying to save me. The guy turns, and I just…I just decked him. Hard. But not before he gets a shot off. Wings Ben in the shoulder." 

Peter dropped his arms, shifting to rest his cheek on his palm.

"My Uncle Ben, the man who was basically my dad, almost died because I couldn't control my anger or my powers. I was…cocky.

"And when I was sitting with him in the hospital waiting for Aunt May to show up, all I could think was that I did that. And if I didn't get my shit together, this might happen again. That I needed to figure out how to control my powers and understand what they did.

"A few years later I get a call about being on a super-powered mutant team. But I'm already in college. I'm dating Gwen, we're both talking about going to England…and I think…no…You didn't want to help me when I really needed you, why do you get my life now? That's kind of what Parker Industries is. My attempt to make things better in a real way. Don't know if I'm doing it, yet."

I can't. I can't. I can't.

What's going on, alien baby?

I was going to beg him to host me, but look at his life? It's so…good…It's literally everything my Peter ever wanted.

Ask about Flash Thompson. 

"Hey, um, what's going on with your buddy Flash Thompson these days?"

"Flash?" Peter sucked in a hot breath through his teeth. "When he came back from his second deployment without legs, I personally oversaw a new branch of our medical tech department to make the best damn prosthetics ever made. I was even willing to work with Oscorp on it, when it was still around. But alcohol is a hell of a drug. I tried, but he didn't make it out of the relapse."

Fuck. 

"Why are you asking about Flash Thompson?" Peter asked. "Is that actually why you're here?"

How do you want to do this?

Let me show him.

"Yeah, okay." Wade interlaced his fingers. "Don't freak out. And let me introduce you to Venom." 

When the alien moved out of his body it was like his skin pulled from his muscle and muscle from bone, and the extra mass dragged his body down in unusual ways. Venom made themselves particularly large, trying to match the size and shape of a human torso, head, and arms while still emerging from Wade's chest. 

Peter simply stared, trying to process everything as fast as possible. 

"Are you an alien or a demon?" Peter finally asked. 

"Alien symbiote," Venom replied. 

"I'm okay with that. Alien I can handle. That's….that's science. Clarke's third law aside, if you were magic I'd have some…I'd have some problems. Okay. So you're the one who needs me?"

Now it was the symbiote's turn to lay out their life thus far and how they got to this point. 

"I don't know how to make it back to my timeline, at this point."

Really shouldn't have broken Cable's special watch…fuck…

"So I need a host. I thought if I found you in this timeline you might be willing, but…no. That's not fair to your family."

"Do I not have a family in other timelines?" Peter asked. 

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," Venom said. 

"Okay. Got it. Haaaah." Peter slumped forward with a sigh. 

"Flash was one of your hosts?"

"He was my most recent one. I just parted from him."

"How…how was he?" Peter asked. 

"I tweaked his brain. Managed to get the alcoholism under control. Then we went to space."

"That's cool as hell." He nodded in approval. "Okay. So do I know any other hosts? Seems like in your timeline you're shopping my sphere of acquaintances."

Venom hesitated, shying away from the question. 

"Eddie Brock," Logan said. Peter looked down and away, thinking. 

"That name sounds so familiar. Hold on." He moved out of his chair to glance around the newspaper articles mounted to the walls. "Here. When I set up my first bio-med lab, we granted him a tour to talk about our motivations and mission statement. It was a really positive write-up. He was a nice guy. But I have no idea what he's doing now, so I don't know if I can help you." Peter tapped his knuckle against the glass. "You know what? I used to do freelance photography at The Bugle , and we overlapped. I bet you I still have contacts there. They might know what happened to him. Can you give me a day?"

"Yes, thank you. We can handle another day." Logan shot up from his chair. "Let me just give you my number."

"I mean, if you're at the X-Mansion, I know how to contact them."

"Oh okay. Yeah. Now we're gonna get out of here so you can enjoy your family." Logan yanked Wade up from the chair. 

"Uh, yeah…thanks," Wade said. 

What the fuck?

Then he walked them out of the room and the house.

."You were a bit of a grump-a-sauraus back there." Wade flopped down on their bed. It was late, but they had at least made it home without much further ado. Venom had decided they needed to rest, so they had pulled from the surface of Wade's brain and body. He could still feel them in there, but it was detached and distant.

Wade had done his usual nervous chattering on the drive home, but Logan had remained quiet, still, barely responding with even a threat of violence.

Something really shook him up.

Logan sat on the bench at the end of their bed and started undressing. 

"In my timeline, Gwen Stacey's dead. She was thrown off a roof by someone Spider-Man was fighting. He webbed her mid-aid to keep her from falling, and she was dead when he got her back on the roof." 

"Jesus fuck."

"He blames himself to this day. And none of us would ever fucking say it to his face because we're not goddamn monsters, but well…physics…Spines don't take hard traction like that well…" Logan let it drop off. "This timeline's Peter made the choice to not be Spider-Man, and look at his life. What if-"

"Okay, but we didn't have that same choice." Wade scooted his body until his head was laying on the bench next to Logan, gazing up at his shirtless chest. "I had cancer. I could either die or go through what I thought was a super-soldier program. I didn't choose any of what Frances put me through. You couldn't have known what Weapon-X would do to you. You were trying to serve your country. You didn't make yourself a mutant. Neither of us asked for the years of child abuse and trauma." Wade lifted his arms above his head and touched the backs of his fingers to the floor. "Peter didn't go through any of that. He didn't have to make the kind of choices we did." 

Privileged little white boy. 

I guess I'm a little white boy, too, though. 

Wait, nurturing caregivers and a stable home are a vector of privilege; I get points for that.

"And all those actual big choices, those fucking…four to five moments…if I'd done any of those differently, I wouldn't be here. With you. Right now. Touching your nipple." He reached out, slowly, to touch him then made contact. Logan normally swatted him away when he tried to get frisky at weird times. This time he just stared down at him with wavered eyebrows. 

He scooped his hand under Wade's head and lifted him all the way up into a kiss. Deep and throbbing like all the other parts of him. His clothes melted back into his skin, leaving him in just his briefs. Logan growled against his mouth. 

"Symbiote."

"They're asleep. I did the clothing thing." It was only half a lie. He had control over the clothing, so Venom hadn't done it. But he wasn't totally sure that Venom was actually particularly dormant. Logan growled again. Wade somersaulted over the bench to stand upright in front of Logan.

"You're really going to look at all this--" he turned to wiggle his ass "--and say no just because there's an alien ride along?" 

"They're not allowed to come out." Logan reached forward and pressed his face against Wade's lower back. 

"Obviously." 

"Alright." Logan lifted him around the waist and judo threw him over his shoulder and onto the bed. 

Everything was so easy now, a quick flow of routine from step to step. Not boring. Comfortable. Delightful in its predictability. Logan was out of his jeans already, looking for their usual accouterments in the side table. 

"I'm all fired up from my forced nap. Let me top." Wade slid to the edge of the bed and took Logan's cock in his mouth. 

God, I'm so glad everything else got me to this point. Fuck this multiverse shit. 

Do you need help?

Go back to sleeeeeep.

I experience everything you do. I'm not gonna knock out and miss a good orgasm.

I can respect that honestly. Stay inside so Logan doesn't get mad.

Can do.

Logan wove his fingers around the back of Wade''s head, pressing his mouth deeper against his cock. 

"I'm kinda tired, so if I don't have to do any work, okay." 

Wade released him, and Logan disappeared into the bathroom for a moment to quick prep. Wade sat back and played with his own cock, waiting, getting hard and ready for Logan. A tendril emerged from his knee; it wrapped around his base and squeezed. 

What the fuck did I say?!

It's just until he gets back. Let me have this. 

You're really pushing it.

The bathroom door opened and Venom zooted back into Wade's body. Barely paying attention, Logan dropped between Wade's legs and wrapped his mouth around his cock. 

"Oh, you don't need to do a lot of that, peanut. I'm 'boutta burst as is." He had noticed that the last time they fucked. Everything had built fast and powerful. The only difference was the influence of the symbiote. 

Think about those implications later.

Logan grunted and flopped on the bed. Wade preferred missionary, but Logan threw his ass up to take it from behind. He positioned behind him readily, all the movements easy and familiar and sexy and satisfying as their bodies brushed against each other. 

"Cherry or vanilla?" Wade asked as he looked at the bottles Logan had pulled from the nightstand. 

"I'm not the one tasting it," Logan grumbled. Wade wasn't either this time, so he moved ahead full steam. 

Fuck that's good.

A few moments flashed together as he pressed, lubed up, into Logan. He didn't actually want to move, enjoying the feeling of soaking in Logan's insides. But here his hips were going, pumping in and out gently, at first, then quicker and harder. His hands spread down Logan's back, and he considered whether he was in an ass-slapping mood. Something about this lazy pounding was more appealing. He reached around to stroke Logan's cock instead and was rewarded with a low growl of pleasure. 

A tendril glanced over the back of his thigh. 

Dude.

Hold on, let me show you something.

The tendril slipped between his ass and crawled up inside him, aiming right for the sweet spot with a few soft taps. He jolted and fell forward over Logan's ass.

"Holy fuuuuuck," he hissed. 

"What?" Logan looked back over his shoulder. 

"Um…" Wade seriously considered lying for several long moments before deciding that was a terrible, horrible, unethical idea. "Can I…holy fuck…" The words wouldn't even come out, the dual sensations eating away as his ability to form sounds.

"Can Venom join us? Just me. They won't touch you. If they do, you can slice them from my body and stab me until you're satisfied."

Under-fucking-stood?

Yes, honey.

Wade watched the gears turn in Logan's head. 

"You get one shot," Logan said.

"Ohmygodthankyou." 

The symbiote pressed against his insides again, leaning in hard against his prostate. Wade leant some of his control over to the alien, his hips starting to slam into Logan as the symbiote worked him from the other side. This left him room to concentrate on stroking Logan's cock and digging his nails into his skin. 

Logan panted soft and ragged underneath him, thrusting a little into his hand. When he came, it was with a moan and a shudder, gnashing his teeth before he dropped down onto his elbows. 

"Hold on. Almost…" When Wade came it was an explosion that broke in waves through every muscle in his body. There was an echo there, though, a twin orgasm that rattled alongside his own that belonged to someone else riding along in his body.

Thank you, Wade.

Do not talk to me, right now.

And they slid back away into his consciousness as Wade collapsed down next to Logan. 

"Do we talk about it?" Wade said quietly. 

"No," Logan said curtly. 

Oh we REALLY need to talk about it. But not yet.

#####

"Wade, get up. As pissed off as I am about it, we've got a plane to catch."  Logan kissed him on the forehead to wake him. When that didn't work, he poked a blade into his cheek ever so gently. 

"Owie!" Wade rolled over grumpily, arms flailing. "It's too early." 

"Just early enough to make it to the airport." Logan pulled out their duffel bags and started throwing in enough clothes for a few days. Wade finally started coming to his senses, getting out of bed to move around the room, khakis and a t-shirt appearing on his body as he started helping with the packing. 

"How did you get a flight so fast? Where are we going?"

That was the great thing about Wade. Tell him you're going to do something, he may ask questions, but he'll start working while he's asking. 

"It's a shit flight. Two long layovers in Chicago and Denver. Won't be getting into San Francisco until ten o'clock local time."

"Why are we going to San Francisco?"

"That's where Eddie Brock lives. Scott caught a voice mail on the main line this morning. After we left last night, Peter remembered he got an e-mail a few months ago from someone at the San Francisco Examiner asking for an interview. They referenced their colleague Ed Brock. He hadn't put all the components together, but when he googled the paper, E.C. Brock showed up as a byline."

"That's him." Venom's body sluiced out of Wade's shoulder. 

"Peter said he would see if he could get an address, still, but we can at least get to California in the meantime."

"Sounds like a plan," Wade said. 

"What if I don't want to go back to him?" Venom said sharply. "I never asked to." 

Logan slammed his bag on the floor. He couldn't do this. This multiverse symbiote bullshit. It was too goddamn much. He had waited too fucking long to have someone who was just his. Who belonged to him and him alone. He wasn't fucking sharing. 

"Look, you can't stay bonded to Wade. I won't accept it. And I'm not gonna offload you on some rando in the street without knowing how they'd use you. Neither of us want to ruin Peter's life. Flash is out of commission. Your other options are either I find whatever shithole Mac Gargan is probably locked up in right now, drop you off, then throw away the key so you can torture each other to death. Or I go find out if this version of Alchemex is in the business of symbiotes."

"That's quite the lore drop, sweetpea," Wade whispered. 

Logan flicked out his claws and pressed them under Venom's chin.

"Or…we take you to Eddie Brock and test that option out. What would you prefer? Because you don't want to know what the last option is." 

Venom clacked his teeth then sunk a little further back into Wade's body without disappearing completely. 

"I'd prefer the window seat if it's an option," Venom said.

[max-nico]

Sonic World Building Headcanons

For the soul

Any fic of mine that you read uses all or almost all of these Headcanons btw

Covering your hands and feet is the equivalent of covering yourself for decency. It's taboo to talk about what someone's hands look like if you've seen them before

Fingerless gloves give the same vibe as micro skirts and sheer tops with nothing underneath

All (or at least most) Mobians/anthropomorphic animals start off showing a lot more animalistic traits. For example, young children might sniff each other in greeting or get territorial over their bedroom or house

Children who go to school get taught to use their "grown up instincts" and essentially get trained to be "normal"

There are Mobians who are outliers of course, Knuckles for example grew up secluded on a floating island. Over the years he's learned how to fit in better with the general populace but he still comes off as very naive, or not mentally developed (I probably should just say what autistic look like to neurotypicals huh)

Shadow would be an even more extreme example since he's literally an alien

Because of this, kids aren't allowed to move up a grade if they're smart enough to test out, like Tails. If they did that, they would miss crucial developmental skills specifically targeted toward their instincts

Different types of Mobians need different types of diets. For example, spider Mobians can't have mint period. Whether artificial or real. Unless they had been fed little bits of mint at a young age to build up the immunity by the time they reach adulthood

In the comforts of their own home most Mobians fall back on their animalistic traits. Like cat types purring in the sunlight or bird types preening their feathers

It's rude to refer to people as their species. Not like, super offensive, just rude. (Ex. Shadow refers to Sonic as "hedgehog")

Most Mobians aren't one type of animal, most are mixed between two or more. For example, someone mixed with a jackal and a raccoon. Which one they get referred to depends first on appearance, so sometimes children don't get classified until three or four. If they truly look like a 50/50 split between the two species then they get DNA testing done and are referred to as whichever one is higher

The village Tails comes from is a small village completely comprised of Mobians from the canidae family, small villages being completely one animal family is regular, but cities being this way is unheard-of

Sonic is a famous hero and does have a heavily filled bank account. Not because he asked of course, but because of public outrage when he off handedly mentioned he doesn't get paid for saving the world

Off topic, but Tails manages the bank account because he uses the most of the money. Inventions aren't cheap. Any bills they have are on auto pay so they don't worry about them.

Most Mobians are left handed

Okay, I don't really like humans in the Sonic world. If I had my way the Robotniks would be robins, Maria would be a mixture of hedgehog and bird in a way that's off putting to Mobians but we would think looks cool, that being said she'd be classified as a hedgehog

Anyway, this is not the case and humans do exist. In my head there're three different planets, one with humans, one with Mobians, and one with humans + Mobians

That being said, I think space travel isn't a super regular thing for Mobians to do but it's not unheard of. It's probably just super expensive if anything

Aliens are still fucking crazy to them tho

Some companies/governments (like GUN) span across two or more planets

There's generally a lot of animosity between Mobians and humans but in like a modern day racism (specism??) way and it is not the Mobians fault

Money also works differently Mobians (don't ask me how it works tho I got no fucking clue man), and a lot of the time Mobians just exchange favors for favors

Character Headcanons pertaining to world building

Reiterating: Sonic is famous and gets money transferred to his(read Tails') bank account. Tails village is full of dingos, foxes, jackals, wolves, coyotes, even some dogs.

Most of Sonic's friends are pretty loaded tbh. Obviously team rose, team dark, and team Sonic make the most money, but you know.. details

Very few things tip people off to Shadow being an alien. Like yeah he has canines but he might just be mixed species? He's right handed but some people just are so that's normal. Yeah he might hiss in public but you don't know his life. Maybe he can't control it.

I headcanon Amy as a hedgehog/echidna mix, but she simply looks more like a hedgehog in the face and body, but her quills are what really give her mixed heritage away (I am projecting)

Depending on which continuity you're looking at, Sonic was taught to control his instincts either from an orphanage, his uncle, his mom, or some secret 4 thing I'm forgetting.

He doesn't teach Tails about the whole instincts thing, but Tails has always been in a rush to grow up. He's smart and observant, he's the king of repressing them instead of learning at a slow and more natural pace that won't hurt him in the long run

Cream and Amy are the most socially competent by a longshot. Rouge could be if she, first of all, didn't spend so much time with Shadow and Omega, and also didn't find it funny to act like she does.

Okay, that's it for now. If I think of more I'll reblog the post with another headcanon, otherwise please add your own. I love headcanons, please let me add them to my arsenal. You're welcome to message me or go to my asks box as well as long as your nicest to me <3

I'm eventually going to do a post detailing what I think social media is like in the Sonic world.

If you have any headcanons put them in the tags, reply, or my ask box ! Any character you want me to focus on ? Message me, or hit my ask box ! Suggestions are always welcome .

[markantonys]

HELLO, I am here to ask how in THE WORLD do you get a trailer to look so good in gifs? every time I go to do something from a yt video....it always turns up, for lack of a better word, shitty. WHAT ARE YOUR SECRETS besides sheer talent?

aww thank you! but i agree, giffing from youtube videos is THE WORST i try to avoid it, but when WOT trailer season comes around, we have no other choice! in my explanation, i'll only talk about the tools i use, and if you don't have those tools and instead use other tools then i unfortunately won't be able to offer any insight because this is the way i've been making gifs since 2012 haha i am very set in my ways at this point!

my guess is that it might be more to do with the manner of capturing the video than any photoshop settings, because i've found that the quality of the source material is the biggest factor in the quality of a gif. when giffing from youtube (and from all other places), my method is to simply screenrecord the video as it plays in its original player, rather than download a copy of it. this may not be the H-est Q way to do it, but it's good enough for my taste!

i use the free xbox windows app, which has a screenrecording function in it:

then on youtube, i make sure the video is on the highest possible quality setting (so actually clicking on that setting rather than leaving it on the auto-quality default). i right click to loop the video, fullscreen it, start recording my screen, and start playing the video towards the end so that the youtube player will fade away after a few seconds and the video will loop back to the beginning and i can then have a clear screen throughout the whole thing (rather than starting my recording right at the beginning of the video and having the youtube player visible for the first few seconds).

i also suspect that youtube videos miiiiight take a bit of time after uploading to fully process the HD version - for example, i recorded the WOT trailer immediately after it was uploaded, but when i was giffing the next day, i went "wow this shot of nynaeve looks so bad" and went to try to re-record that shot, and sure enough it was noticeably better quality that time. (and i probably should have done the same for the entire trailer, but by that point i'd made a bunch of the other gifs and they were Fine Enough so i couldn't be bothered to redo all of them.) so it might be worth waiting some time after the upload to get your recording, or perhaps letting the whole video play through once to fully buffer as the HD version and then recording the second play? i'm totally just guessing here, who Really knows what caused a quality difference in my two recordings! but if you're screenrecording and notice a low quality shot, it never hurts to at least try to re-record it again and see if it's better that time; internet video players can be finicky in how good the quality is at a given moment.

next i go into photoshop. i've always used the "import video frames to layers" method for giffing, wherein you select that option in photoshop, pull up the video you're using, and highlight the portion of the video you want to turn into a gif, and then photoshop converts it into individual frames for you (i get the sense that the screencapping method is more popular, but it seems so confusing to me, so i've never tried it!)

finally, these are my sharpening settings (using photoshop's "smart sharpen" filter). the one on the left is my usual setting for gifs, which is a more dramatic sharpening, and the one on the right is my milder sharpening settings, which i tend to use for screencaps/still images - i also used these milder settings on my youtube trailer gifset because i found that with the lesser video quality (compared to a gif from an actual episode recorded out of the prime video player), the more dramatic sharpening settings made it look kinda grainy and harsh, so the subtler sharpening ended up being better for those particular gifs.

so, that's the basics of my process! like i said, i think the quality of the giffing source is by far the most important factor, and i've found that for youtube videos, screenrecording the HD version straight out of the youtube player works pretty well in maintaining as much of the original quality as possible. you can see here my 2 different recordings of the nynaeve shot. they have the exact same sharpening settings and coloring, but #1 is noticeably blurrier/more pixelated and it's solely because youtube was apparently in a better mood the second time and gave me a better-quality version of that shot for my recording.

[doubleddenden]

A little more beta stuff was leaked recently- this time focusing on Legends Arceus and Scarlet and Violet.

So first off, I won't link anything outright to my blog just in case. Find it on Twitter, YouTube, or Reddit.

Second, there's nothing about beta Pokemon so far- and I kind of doubt there will be in the files given the games were rushed to a degree. But it is strange, both have elements in them that could have changed the final games a bit- probably Arceus moreso, as SV's is more on the graphics side.

Third, i am not a leaker nor do i personally have access to the builds- this is strictly commentary on *videos* you can easily find yourself. This is simply just thoughts I have- some may agree or disagree, I'm not arguing.

That out of the way: Legends Arceus

So first of all, we finally have confirmation that the modern bedroom found in LA's game files (as in the final distributed product) was indeed a remnant of what would have been before the official beginning we got. There were storyboards with it that depict the player watching a professor give their "Welcome to the World of Pokemon" speech, then it zooms out to reveal the player was playing a game on TV, they take a break to scroll on their phone, then digital shenanigans happen on the phone and the player gets sucked into a whole in reality.

This is old news to some- but there's also unfinished animation that depict this, basically only modeling the player and the tv- the rest is grey. It seems to be an idea they were serious about, but decided to cut it- I think it's for the best tbh. I never have liked GF's "kids and their smart phones" rhetoric and this made it seek like we'd rather be on our phones instead of playing the game.

Onto gameplay, there's footage of beta Hikari (has a headband instead of the bandana) and a Unovan Zoroark running and JUMPING around in the field. They battle with a Luxray in what appears to be auto battling with some limited commands from the trainer. This actually validates certain leaks for Legends Arceus and perhaps maybe even pre SwSh? Anyway, they claimed GF were debating intensely on a new battling system, and I believe one even compared it to Digimon World Next Order- this certainly matches the description, imo, but definitely dumbed down and in early phases. These rumors would persist a while during LA's marketing phase, so the decision to change to the system we have must have been last minute.

On a personal note, I know there are a lot of fans that are tired of the turn based battling system, but I'm personally glad we didn't go down the road of auto battling. It looked awkward to watch, and also it would make catching pokemon hell because there'd be a chance to knock it out when it's in the red. It does need work for sure- but I would argue it just needs work on an animation, camera, and overall aesthetic angle rather than try to fully shift things to a new system you know they wouldn't get right for a long time.

Back to the facts- there also appears to be a very early and very janky ability for the player to ride their Zoroark? I think? At the least, although both models are running on top of each other (developer beta, keep in mind), the player DOES seem on top of Zoroark, who does seem to gain a massive boost of speed in response.

Side note- this does harken to the supposedly canceled game: Pokemon Rodeo, where you ride Pokemon around. I believe footage showed the area where Scyther hang out in LA, and the project had been worked on since 2019. Perhaps they wanted to try to implement it in LA, but they scrapped the idea for accessibility via the ride system.

It's also clear they wanted to do something with Zoroark all the way back here- they weren't kidding when they said Arceus would be a very experimental game, it seems.

Onto the next game: Scarlet and Violet.

Scarlet and Violet beta footage doesn't really glean much other than a similar build of the final product (and let's not kid ourselves, the game is clearly unfinished). However, there is 1 unused music track, I think, towards the beginning of the game.

There's also a much different LIGHTING and SHADOW system compared to what we got in the end. It honestly looks way better than the final product, and it meshes with the environments WAY better imo. Most likely it was changed to the inferior one for performance purposes, as the game did somehow run slower than before (in an emulator, but still).

Personal take- I know some people's gut reaction is to immediately blame the Switch for being "under powered," but do keep in mind it could handle BoTW, ToTK, Xenoblades 1, 2, and 3, and more while still handling pretty decent shading. It is curious, however, that ported games such as Red Dead Redemption or Fate/Samurai Remnant might have some issues in a similar manner (there are some leaks of pc versions of some of these games being leaked, but they require very specific pc builds that would make them harder or impossible to run on much besides dev kit or Switch hardware). I don't know if this would be an issue with creating with the Switch 2 dev kit and having to downgrade- we know that from other leaks, GF had been experimenting with improved performance on Switch 2 dev kits as of one of the earliest Indigo Disk leaks- circa Dec 2022 or early 23. However, I don't think they had the kit during early SV's development, as it started in 2019 or so after SwSh ended development, and the Switch would only be 2 years old at the time- I think this is simply poor management and direction from people TRYING to get that BoTW look, but not wanting to update their tech or habits to properly accommodate it and not wanting to take their time with it. I think we all understand there was just a maelstrom of things going wrong for SV's development from the Pandemic, to trying to follow their same flawed release cycle, bad management, etc. It's a tired topic at the least.

As far as other things in the actual build, there does appear to be a... well, honestly? BETTER pop up menu for the bag and menu. It's stylized in a pretty unique way that feels nice and organic to the game vs the final product. The bag menu sort of overlays to the regular game like the finalized start menu does, but cleaner.

I can only guess this was changed because it affected performance somehow- perhaps related to the game's strange habit of being lit up when the battle menu appears in the final product, or maybe just another slow down like usual. It's too bad, it looks really good.

Between the bag and the lighting system, I hope both come back for gen 10. There's serious promise behind both.

As for anything else worth noting- like the LA beta, the SV beta has a lot of unfinished areas, nothing really worth noting on that angle.

But picnics- those loaded way quicker before, despite the game running slower on emulator. And sandwiches? Well, they were planned back then, too. It does appear to be an earlier build, as the guy was somehow tossing eggs from UNDER the sandwich to the bun, and underhand throwing the top bun on top instead of the finalized orbital drop method we have for both.

The only other things worth noting is that the player had a Lucario and Staraptor on their team (the Lucario is interesting considering Unovan Zoroark was in the Beta LA build). However the menu displays other things instead, such as Charizard (of fucking course), Poliwrath (not available in game until Teal Mask), MUDKIP (wouldn't be added in until ID dropped), and Nidoqueen- who isn't available in the final game AT ALL. Of course, these are just menu sprites and none of these actually appear in the videos- in fact, other than the creepy blacked out Koraidon, Staraptor, Lucario, and I think Staravia flying around, I don't think there was a SINGLE other Pokemon visible in the overworld.

Oh, and it does appear that the initial uniforms were planned very early, as the blacked out model matches the overall shape. Personal note- I hope they got that out of their systems. I hated it so much, and it was probably another time saving measure planned from the beginning.

Final thoughts: it's interesting hoe the beta build seems to be Scarlet- idk if there's one for Violet specifically, but looking on it, a lot makes more sense from a Paradox design and story angle if you just assume Scarlet is the canon game. It's easy to think of how a Great Tusk can kill a man in Area Zero 200 years ago, not quite how a robot could- and the final explanation certainly doesn't provide satisfactory explanation as to how it arrived there before the time machine was built.

As for appearance: Some of this makes me remember an official game freak reveal of early SV at Game Freak's CEDEC 2023

And this is officially revealed info. The Snorlax is definitely photoshopped in, but the shading and rock textures look a lot like this beta build. It does look better than the final build, there's no real arguing with that.

Again, I'm hoping whoever in charge thqt needed to learn a few lessons DID, because some devs were clearly TRYING to make some ambitious ideas work but just couldn't on the time alotted or the programs used. I think I heard they wanted to transition to Unity or Unreal for the next games anyway, so maybe programming it will be easier going forward and we can finally achieve these graphics they wanted. Probably not with ZA, but it'd be a nice surprise for Gen 10 or something.

That's all. Have a nice day

[astronomyforastrologers]

Solar Storms Are Driving Farmers Crazy

Planting season is a hectic time for farmers. For many, it means working through the night using GPS-guided tractors to plant thousands of acres in a short period of time. The season was in full swing on May 10, 2024, when the biggest solar storm in decades struck Earth.

"Our tractors acted like they were demon possessed," says Elaine Ramstad, a Spaceweather.com reader and aurora chaser who helps out on a family farm in Northern Minnesota. "All my cousins called me during the May 10th storm to tell me that 'my auroras' were driving them crazy while they were planting."

Modern farmers rely heavily on GPS. Guided by satellites, smart tractors can work around the clock, seeding perfectly straight rows with precise amounts of seed and fertilizer. When harvesting time comes, the tractors can return to exactly the same spots to pick the crops.

This kind of precision agriculture has become widespread. "I would guess 80% or more of all farmers in the Midwest use at least basic GPS for something--whether it's auto-steer or yield mapping," says Ethan Smidt, a service manager for John Deere. "At least 50% of all farmers are VERY reliant on GPS and use it on every machine all year long."

Solar activity poses a growing problem for farm-tech. During big solar storms, a layer of Earth's atmosphere called "the ionosphere" fills with bubbles, waves, and turbulence, which severely distort radio signals from GPS satellites. Sometimes tractors and harvesters can't lock on, which stops them in their tracks. Or the signal may be garbled, causing them to juke back and forth.

Crooked rows in Iowa caused by a solar storm.

May 10th wasn't the end of it. Tractors went off-course again during the autumnal storms of Oct. 6th and 10th.

Ramstad was helping her cousins defoliate sugar beets on Oct. 6th when her tractor started acting up: "As the aurora activity began, my GPS was off by close to a foot. Twice while on Autosteer, the tractor danced a row to the left, to the right — and then the defoliator was off a row, so I had to  loop around and start over. By nightfall, there was no controlling the Autosteer."

Indiana farmer Michael Spencer had a similar experience: "This fall was the first time I was able to see the aurora. My hair was standing on end from the beauty, however, it did make the John Deere tech dance. When the storms were strongest around Oct. 7th, my tractor's Autosteer system would 'jump the line'--meaning, the tractor would make a quick jolt left or right and I would have to manually reset."

A beet defoliator--an example of massive hardware thrown off course by solar activity.

It doesn't take an historic solar storm to cause problems. While the May 10th storm was a rare and extreme category G5, storms in October were much more common category G3 and G4 events. All of them sent massive pieces of hardware off course.

NASA says that Solar Maximum has arrived, and it could last for another 1 to 2 years, confusing tractors again in 2025 and 2026. Stay tuned for more crooked rows. Solar storm alerts: SMS Text

[gothgengargirl]

Sealed With A Kiss

“Present for inspection”

My body went on autopilot. Skirt up, legs splayed. Mistress passed her barcode reader over my tattooed ID, and the chirp of confirmation was enough to make me quiver. It meant I belonged.

“651814. Good. I recognized you, you know. You’re coming along very nicely.” Mistress returned to her seat, and gestured politely for me to be seated as well. I obeyed, of course.

I was coming along nicely. It was easy to lose track of how long I had been in FemCorp training. In an intensive induction program like mine, we weren’t allowed to have things like calendars. Still, I had rotated through five positions within the company by this point. Now I was working in the Records Department. I liked Records. It was quiet, and I could alone time with my new thoughts. I could slip away and touch myself for a few minutes or a few hours, and if any of my supervisors noticed, they didn’t care as long as the work got done.

But there was a schedule, and physical configuration was part of it. My favorite part of it. Today I was supposed to have an hour with the Auto-Bra, to help my tits reach their full potential. I really like the Auto-Bra. But instead, I was in Mistress’ office. I had only been here one or two times before, and never instead of a scheduled treatment.

“I can see on your face that you’re confused, sweet thing. Permission to speak”

“Thank you, Mistress. I was wondering… why am I here?” I swallowed. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh no, sweet thing. You’re not in trouble. The opposite, in fact.” My cheeks flushed. Mistress was happy with me! I loved to make her happy. It made me wet. “I need your assistance. Now stand.”

I did as I was told, and Mistress stood up and came around the desk to stand next to me. Was she always this much taller than I was? She grabbed my chin in her hand and rotated my head. We made eye contact. Those grey eyes seemed to stare right into my soul.

“We’re going to be testing some experimental treatments together,” she said, barely above a whisper. Then, without warning, she kissed me. Forcefully at first, and then becoming gentle, soothing. I opened my mouth to gasp from the sensation and she took advantage of the gap, ramming her tongue into my mouth. My eyes fluttered as I lost myself in the moment, moaning slightly. I had never been kissed like this. Even without the programming, even without the reconfigurations, this was the kind of kiss that would change my life.

And then there was a sharp sensation. A stinging, like an aerosol spray, straight into my throat. I stepped back, reflexively, and Mistress let me break contact. The stinging in my throat subsided and was replaced by a gentle throb, like a massage. I could taste… cotton candy?

“Mistress, what… what was that?”

She licked her lips, and I could see a glint of silver. Was her tongue always metallic?

“It’s a gene gun. Experimental feminization delivery system. Something that the girls in R&D worked up. Delivers a stream of nanites into the body, each equipped with CRISPR/CAS9 proteins. They’ll target the genes related to hormone levels, receptors, tissue development.”

“You… you’re changing my DNA to make me more of a girl?”

“Yes!” Mistress was positively beaming, seeing how I was following along. I liked to be smart for Mistress. At least some of the time.

“When the treatment is finished, you will be perfectly female, inside and out. Of course, it will take more doses in order to ensure that this all works. You’re being transferred to R&D, effective immediately, in order to assist them with other projects while they monitor your progress with the gene gun technique.”

I realized that I was drooling a little. Was that a side effect of the nanite spray, or just because Mistress was so excited? “M…more doses?”

“But of course, pet! The current regimen calls for treatment every twelve hours, delivered to four key points in the body each time.”

I didn’t ask where those other key points were. I had a feeling. Mistress glanced down over me, looking over FemCorp’s good work. Her eyes lingered on my tits and on my bulge, which was now visibly straining the short skirt of my Records uniform. I twitched.

“Now strip. That’s a good girl.”

As I was taking my clothes off, trembling with anticipation, I heard Mistress mutter something under her breath.

“When you love your job, you never work a day in your life.”

[topazadine]

Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability

A short little Monday post so that we stop pissing readers off!

Beyond the usual issues that are easily fixed, like typos, there lie a few more pernicious problems that can drag readers out of a story kicking and screaming. Unfortunately, they happen to nearly everyone, no matter their skill level, and must be watched for carefully.

Now, I want to note that I am never attempting to prescribe how you should write. However, I want you to think back to the last time you read something that made you roll your eyes and give up - it's likely that at least one of these problems was present.

Here is the sum-up, and then we'll talk details. I will be showing examples of my own writing that include these deadly sins, so feel free to point and laugh.

Double describing

Overly long sentences

Overexplaining

Head hopping

Again, a big disclaimer.

I can't tell you how to write, this is just my opinion, you are the crafter of your own story, take what you like and leave the rest.

Alright, let's get into it.

Double Describing

Describing the same thing in two different ways right next to one another feels repetitive and annoying; it comes across as self-indulgent, like you're more interested in showing off how smart you are than telling a story. I have been a perennial offender in this, as shown by my story "Beyond Mortal Sight."

Here, I've highlighted the things that were double-described in blue. This includes:

The underworld

Higekiri

The crypt

The room being mostly empty

Pick the strongest descriptor and cut the other ones. You might think that this makes your writing weaker, but it actually strengthens it, as you're not diluting the description and can move along faster.

If you're not sure whether you're double describing, try removing one of the selections and see if you're still describing what you wanted to. Maybe you just need to tweak one of them, but both of them can still stand on their own; in that case, differentiate them more, or move them so that they are not right next to each other in order to provide better emphasis.

Now, sometimes you really do want to linger on a specific description, and that's fine. However, you need to ensure that you're looking at different aspects of the same thing.

I do end up lingering on the moths for a long while, and it doesn't get too repetitive (at least I don't think so) because I'm describing different elements of them.

Overly Long Sentences

The longer a sentence is, the harder it is to emphasize certain things, and the more likely that a reader will get lost aong the way and need to reread things. Of course, we want readers to take our time with the work, but paradoxically, readers are more willing to linger and reread with shorter sentences because they're not getting frustrated and glossing over key elements.

Take a look at this section of my story "A Tale of Two Citadels," which I've been meaning to rework for ages because it has chronic logorrhea. The sheer length of these damn sentences!

Right off the bat, we see that the first sentence blasts past the typical "four lines max" rule. The second one is slightly better, but it still has way too many clauses and can be confusing. The third one can easily be cut up into at least two sentences, maybe three, without losing the rhythm.

When reworked, you can see how much better it flows by the color coding.

The sentences are still complex, but they're more manageable for readers. The longer a sentence, the more difficult it is, and the more likely that your reader will get lost.

At the same time, you do want some complexity and variety in your sentence lengths. These are all about the same length, which can become a bit boring.

If I were really committed to editing this, I'd go further and add some very short sentences too.

Reading your sentences out loud, or using an auto dictation tool, can be very helpful to see whether you're overdoing it with sentence length. If you have to stop to take multiple breaths while reading a single sentence, then it is probably too long.

You can also color-code while you are editing to see whether your sentences are all around the same length. If so, see if you can cut a few of them up.

Overexplaining

This issue often shows up more when we are explaining why something happened, but it can start to feel boring and repetitive. As an example from my story "Shattered Pieces:"

This part happened right after someone was stabbed and, frankly, takes away a LOT of the tension from the story.

Is it really necessary at this exactly this second, when someone is lying on the ground bleeding, to explain why the incident happened? No, it's not. Half of this could be removed and the story would read so much better, like so:

Now we can move to the juicy stuff of Uguisumaru lying on the ground bleeding to death. Much more important.

A crucial element of writing is to reveal details as they become important, not before. This doesn't mean hiding things from your reader, nor throwing in things at random whenever you feel like; rather, it's about not forcing your reader to do the work of holding onto this information in the hopes that it will become important at some later time.

Is what Mikazuki thinking about here really that important to the overall story? No, we don't need that information. Maybe they can talk about it later, or maybe it will never be discussed.

Now, a quick sidetrack about foreshadowing here. Great foreshadowing works by not feeling like toil and by not beating the reader over the head with the information. They pick up on it, but they don't feel like they need to hold onto it. Careful foreshadowing sprinkled throughout a story feels effortless and natural, without imposing a cognitive load on the reader.

As I've mentioned before when discussing fantasy in general, we do not want our reader to feel like they are doing work. Few of us are at the level of someone like Mark Z. Danielewski, where we can create a book that is all about doing work but readers will still enjoy it because it is that entertaining. (I did not like House of Leaves personally, but that's just me.)

Therefore, our goal is to reduce friction as much as possible while still developing a fun, compelling, thought-provoking piece of fiction. We do this by avoiding infodumping, as I did in that above passage, and revealing information as it becomes important without seeming like things just come out of nowhere. That's where foreshadowing becomes crucial.

Head Hopping

This one is discussed often, but it's also really easy to accidentally do when you're working in third-person limited (my preferred POV). In small cases of dipping into someone else's head, it doesn't really cause concern for the reader, who might not even notice it, but it does make it harder to keep track of the main POV.

It's also important not to dip too often into peoples' heads while you're doing omniscient POV, either. Here, in this segment of "Dreams Within Dreams," we have at least four partial POVs, which I have color coded:

This is technically fine for an omniscient POV, but dipping into too many heads too quickly can become overwhelming and exhausting for the reader. Thankfully, it is an easy fix by simply removing the assumptions of judgment and focusing entirely on the actions.

I mean, it's still not the greatest writing, but we have a more opaque, birds-eye view of everyone, rather than constantly jumping in and out of everyone's head.

This is especially hard not to do when you have numerous characters all together in one scene, which is why it is often easier to avoid having a huge group of individuals together, especially if you're not confident in your skills yet.

The more characters you juggle, the more you need to ensure that you're not leaving anyone out and that everyone gets at least one line without it feeling choppy. This scene definitely could have used a lot more work so as to feel more natural. But that's the joy of fanfiction! It's all about learning and growing as a writer.

Nowadays, I try to limit my scenes to two "main" talkers and then add at least one line for other side characters if I have a big group, but I specify that they're off doing something else so people don't wonder where the hell they went.

And that's about it for today! Again, my posts are never about telling you how to write. I am sharing what I have learned as both a reader and writer so that you can make the choices that best fit your story. Happy writing!

If you enjoyed this, perhaps you'll consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. Which does not include any of these sins. Only $2.99 or ZERO DOLLARS with Kindle Unlimited!

If you're not sure about spending your hard-earned money, check out this review to learn more.

[svtskneecaps]

qsmp ghost investigator au dump

here is everything i spitballed into my sibling's texts. apparently their discord was "thriving on it". i'll divide this into categories and attempt to format it as reader friendly as possible. god almighty i hope the keep reading below this paragraph works

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

there's a main investigative squad formed by roier, cellbit, fic, pac, and tubbo

roier is in charge of their social media accounts

mike is their former college roommate who they constantly bring up and declare has died, except every time he comes up the way he died was different. he's actually a really successful movie producer (or something) so one time they do a live stream for a milestone celebration and in the last ten seconds mike comes flying out of the left side with ghost stage makeup and tackles pac off the side of the screen and they never address this publicly. any time someone asks what happened to pac they answer "who's pac" including pac

cellbit gets extremely disappointed when the perp isn't supernatural

roier is thrilled when the perp isn't supernatural because the peter parker in him loves taking the piss on a billionaire publicly

fit has photographic memory (à la canon screenshots)

pac is extremely good at breaking and entering

cellbit is an old fashioned polaroid kind of guy bc digital cameras don't capture ghost evidence as clearly

roier swears by digital photos bc he likes photoshop (he carries rolls of film with him in case cellbit runs out)

fit has an auto shop. tubbo and ramón work in this auto shop. this is a headache for everyone involved but at least the auto shop was already a thin disguise for experimenting with homemade pyrotechnics so things exploding isn't a big deal

whenever the team has to do a distraction, the only two options are 1) manipulation 2) explosion

when they get caught in a bad spot, pac plays on sympathy, roier plays dumb, tubbo plays along, cellbit pretends to belong, and fit uno reverses

they commissioned jaiden for their logo. she also beta reads the scripts

richarlyson works for mike. sometimes he joins the investigation crew as a cameraman on loan. fans have learned to recognize when richas is behind the camera because the camera doesn't shake when the monster of the week appears because homeboy does not fear death. cellbit knows mike will end his bloodline if anything happens to richas (and would probably end his OWN bloodline) so he tends to be double stressed when richas is behind the camera

the team has a house, courtesy of mike, because god knows a ghost hunter's salary probably can't pay for one

bagi belongs to a "rival" investigation group. she and cellbit talk MAD shit every time they're in the same room. they are also both incredibly fucking smart and often end up working together to crack the tough cases while continuing to smack talk each other

bad is also in the rival investigative group. he is very clearly a demon. this is never commented on.

skeppy is a ghost except bad is the only one who can see him. anyone who calls skeppy imaginary is shouted down by bagi. bagi also believes skeppy is imaginary

tina is the safety net / brawn for bagi's team. she trains in hand to ghost hand combat with etoiles because she is Not Human and can punch ghosts. bagi does not know this and she just thinks tina's super cool and super talented and super badass. tina definitely thinks bagi has realized she is Not Human but they haven't like had a conversation about it but bagi's super smart sooooo

dapper is the "guy in the chair" for the rival investigation team. bad tends to ask a question into a radio (or seemingly to thin air) and immediately get the answer via text. sometimes cellbit will wonder something aloud about various ghost types or signs ("they heard scratching in the attic, so that could be caused by--") and almost immediately get cut off by bad's text tone as bad reads aloud dapper listing off three paranormal options as well as potential structural problems and rodents having an extremely fun night, at which point bad cuts himself off with "LANGUAGE" or "OUT OF POCKET"

the main team thinks dapper is just short until they realize that no, dapper is actually like 14. bad's like WHY DO YOU THINK THEY STAY IN THE VAN???

baghera makes and posts music and consults for bagi's team. cellbit is scared of her and also desperately wishes he could poach her for his own team but she only answers jaiden's calls

pomme has a ghost gun. it was a gift from etoiles. she accidentally took foolish's head off with it one time. his head grew back and that was how they learned he was Not Made of Meat. this was not particularly surprising, because bad is still her part time dad. it still scared the crap out of pomme the first time it happened because the ghost gun SHOULD only work on ghosts but foolish is in a weird enough state of undead that he qualified.

foolish was thrilled to have a spare head, hence "the first time"

vegetta is a famous architect. he calls foolish to ask which paranormal team he should consult on whether a property is haunted, because vegetta trusts his partner of unspecific relationship's judgement, considering foolish is Not Human. foolish's answer usually depends on how spiteful he feels towards tina and bad at the time of the call

bonus, i really want maximus involved in one team or the other but since he hasn't interacted with bagi yet i can't decide his role or anything concrete. but just know that's in my brain.

EPISODES (in no particular order:

foolish summons bad during a sleepover with tina and then thinks it'll be funny to summon paranormal investigators (bad also thinks it's funny). they decide to play a game of "can the investigators figure out who's the immortal". it is revealed to the audience in the end of the ""episode"" once all the investigators have left that all three of them are immortal. bad and foolish devolve into yet another argument over which one of them won based on a win condition they somehow came up with and agreed on without ever consulting each other. tina was actually the winner. roll credits.

NEXT:

quackity owns a casino. he hires the team to look into some demonic activity his patrons have been reporting. he spends the entire investigation and episode demanding they find the demon and exorcise the demon and generally shittalking the demon. they spend the entire episode questioning more and more how quackity's casino stays in business as everything they learn about it and him does not inspire confidence. it is revealed that ironmouse is the demon and is also singlehandedly keeping the casino in business because she fucking loves gambling. quackity immediately changes his tune.

NEXT:

antoine calls the team because he's KINDA worried by the latitude and longitude he keeps finding on the walls at the company he works at, written in what looks suspiciously like blood. unbeknownst to them, bagi's team was ALSO contacted, by baghera. they eventually discover the recipient of the messages is etoiles. after an incident at his previous employment he is half ghost and can now fight ghosts. the messages were from an entity that attacks things when it gets bored and it may as well fight etoiles because etoiles is the only one who has beat it so far. they meet in various back alleys and restaurant parking lots to go at it and get drinks afterward. the entity has no idea how to speak any modern languages but Fighting is Universal.

NEXT:

pierre is a wine baron and claims there's a unicorn who watches over his family's vineyard. it's been part of the brand since inception and it's taken mostly as propaganda and old legend until people start actually catching glimpses of a unicorn around the vineyard and the rumor starts to spread until roier "investigative journalist and old money hater" drags the team to go on a tour of the production line in hopes of blowing the case wide open. fit, pac, and tubbo are in charge of distractions while cellbit and roier sneak away to explore the vineyard and track the unicorn.

the unicorn is pierre. roier ends up finding this hilarious and while his journalistic spirit cannot allow him to NOT expose that the unicorn is fake, he ends up calling it "a white horse with a taped-on horn" instead of the face of the company in a fursuit. pierre sends the team wine periodically as thanks and also because roier still has a picture of him in a unicorn costume in the woods.

fit and pac do a wine tasting together.

NEXT:

wilbur contacts them because ghost slime has taken up residence in the guest bathroom and while his daughter insists slime is part of the family, phil is coming with his son (chayanne) to stay with them for a festival or something and wilbur doesn't feel like getting roasted by the middle schooler who is his brother because the bathroom smells like algae and wet dog so he needs the team to babysit slime until phil leaves town. slime spends the entire time going through windows and walls with no warning and scaring the piss out of everyone. one time he was in the cabinet when cellbit was going in to make his midnight coffee and his scream sent everyone in the house into emergency mode. roier would have FULLY put slime through the wall if slime were corporeal. lucky for slime, and their wall, slime is not.

NEXT:

jaiden works at an escape room and her boss reaches out to the team because he is FED UP with some paranormal entity that keeps drawing on walls and moving shit around and throwing things and tripping him and he wants it GONE. jaiden is extremely fond of bobby and bobby is extremely fond of HER, so she reaches out to the team and asks them to NOT do that and just pretend or something. so the team goes in and pretends to investigate and stuff. roier and bobby feud in the background. by the end of the episode they're besties.

the episode concludes, shockingly, with the boss and bobby gaining grudging respect for each other. somehow. the boss threatens to reveal bobby's existence to the internet at large as a publicity stunt every time bobby trips him in the hallway but never actually does. bobby stops throwing things at him (as much). the themeing of the rooms shift so the drawings and moving objects fit in. the boss is mariana.

from this episode on bobby periodically appears in the team's house, because it's my au and i make the ghost rules

END OF SEASON:

the end season villain is a guy who ran the biggest corporation in the world who died under mysterious circumstances. the corporation has a duck mascot for no reason in particular hahahaha. they're a company like nesquick or aquafina or amazon or something yknow REAL assholes.

the team is contracted by the billionaire's nephew (forever) who took over the business when he died and is extremely overwhelmed by 1) running a business on this scale and 2) all the paranormal bs happening in his office (which is where the former CEO died). he also happens to be cellbit's ex. this is highly awkward.

because i hate billionaires but like forever, let's say forever was contacted by the villain solely because the CEO does NOT want any of his immediate underlings to get the company and thus only reveals his blood relation to forever IN HIS WILL. except forever is A Good Dude and is trying to grasp the full scope of the company's corruption and dismantle the shitty practices while still keeping the employees paid, despite his only business experience being his current position of running a boardwalk/beach. this ends up being the cause of the paranormal activity: the CEO is panicking now that forever is trying to 'ruin his company'.

the episode ends with the CEO briefly succeeding in possessing forever, and the combined forces of the ghost teams bring him back and send the CEO to hell.

somehow the billionaire is involved in or mentioned during previous episodes.

[siberat]

Another little prompt idea for you: a bot baby talking and cooing at their partner’s jiggly belly? Bonus points if partner pretends to be exasperated but finds the attention very endearing lol

Sitting back in his chair never felt better! In fact, Vor/tex reclined the chair back to lessen the pressure on his overly stuffed tummy. This was new to him: usually, it was A/id who enjoyed packing down the food. However, the ‘C/on, being a smart-aft, spoke taunting words to the Auto/bot.

And the Auto/bot called him out on it.

So, the roles were reversed. Instead of Vor/tex proudly showing off and feeding his lover the full-course meal, A/id got his payback. And the chopper couldn’t back down- he never backed down from a challenge! What kind of Deceptic/on would he be if he chickened out? Especially to an Auto/bot?

He was way too proud for that.

Plus, it was rather rewarding to see A/id’s face light up with glee as he took charge for once. The once meek and timid Auto/bot finally grew a pair and had no qualms about throwing sass around. Vor/tex quite liked the new A/id with his fiercely stern glares and bold demands!

 The pair started with the hors d’oeuvres, which consisted of greasy, deep-fried mozzarella sticks smothered in marinara sauce. They were fed bite by bite, the melty cheese pulling off in gooey strings.

“Baby liked those, didn’t he?” A/id cooed, pushing the empty dish aside and replacing it with a bowl filled to the brim with soup.

“Oh, this is such a big-boy meal. Can my little mech handle this? For someone so small, it may be too much!” A large spoonful of hearty, robo-chicken corn chowder was flown into the awaiting mouth, airplane style. Tex, of course, rolled his optics at the antics. For Prim/us’ sake, he was a helicopter, at least! This dish was filling on its own, and Tex felt his stomach grow heavy when the spoon clinked in the empty bowl.

“Oh, such a good little baby, hmmm?” A/id spoke in a higher-pitched, squeaky voice. “Did you have enough?”

But the feeding was nowhere near finished.

The main course was a roasted cyber-duck with all the fixings. The sides included Hasselback butternut squash, mushroom rice, cranberry pecan stuffing, and bread dumplings. The squash was very sweet, and the mushroom rice had that distinct earthy taste. However, everything was just so filling! And A/id didn’t give up. Vor/tex was not about to call it quits- he would NOT lose this battle.

The interrogator’s belly ballooned out, painfully expanding against his plating. And dessert still had to be served! Of course, Fi/rst A/id asked if he needed to stop, but there was no way he’d admit defeat.

However, there was no objection to the medic removing his abdominal plating. And once that blubbery protoform was freed and exploded onto his lap, a smidge of relief was felt. This feeling was short-lived, for a colossal strawberry cheesecake awaited him.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Fi/rst A/id spoke, trying to stifle a gloating smirk. “Such a big dish….”

Vor/tex furrowed his optics and matched the smirk. “No problem.”

“Oh, lookit this big, bad ‘C/on stepping up to the plate?” A/id giggled and winked as a plate holding a large slice of cake was pushed forward. “Let’s see how much of a big bot you really are, hmmm? Or is it all just hot air?” A spoon cut the tip off the yellow cake drizzled with red sauce and crystal strawberries and was pressed to his lips. “Open wide, big boy.”

Never taking his optics off the doctor’s, Vor/tex opened up. His mouth was filled with intoxicating sweetness. This was tasty, the sheer deliciousness awakening his taste receptors as if on fire, but he was just so full! His belly began to clench and groan in protest. Long, whiny gurgles erupted, registering warnings of pain at his more than overfilled tanks. But he swallowed. And opened his mouth for the next offering.

“Oh, lookit you go,” A/id cooed. You are so demanding… yelling at me as if I am not feeding you fast enough.”

Vor/tex rolled his optics. He didn’t speak a word. Prim/us, the way this dessert was shoveled in, he didn’t have time to speak. Bite after bite, the ‘C/on worked hard to win this unspoken challenge.

“I’m going as fast as possible.” A/id pouted, but eventually the last of the cake slice was consumed. “How are you feeling now, sweetie-pie?”

Vor/tex grimaced as he stifled a burp. His belly violently rumbled. Servos rubbed over his bloated paunch that heavily rested upon his lap. His tummy was no longer sleek and slim; now, it was as if he had swallowed a beachball filled with cement.

“Oh, you want more? Whatever you say, sweetcheeks!” A/id didn’t even bother cutting another slice; he stabbed another bite from the cake.

“Wha- “

His protests were silenced with another mouthful of dessert. Prim/us, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take! Breathing became more challenging, and sweat beaded from his brow. The room felt warm, yet more and more food was shoved into his maw. And the belly grumbles became angrier and more strained. His belly throbbed in agonizing pain as if daggers stabbed from the inside. Oh, how he yearned for relief from this torment!

“Aww, poor baby,” A/id pouted, setting down the fork and pushing the half-eaten cake away. “Was that too much to handle? Does baby need a break?”

The only response Vor/tex could muster was a sickening groan. His tanks were beyond stuffed. If he moved too quickly, he bet he’d get sick.

“Wanna sit down in that comfy-womfy recliner?” Vor/tex shook his helm yes as his belly gurgled and quivered like an earthquake. “Here, allow me to help you.” A/id’s servo gently patted at the rock-hard belly as he made a tsk sound, then held a hand out to help the bloated ‘C/on to his pedes, then to sA/id chair.

And now, Vor/tex sat relaxing, watching A/id rummaging through his tote. Some pink fluid was brought out and poured into a little cup. The medic walked over to the pained ‘C/on and held the cup out.

“Here, take this.”

“N-No more A/id,” Tec’s face contorted while his optics screamed for mercy. “If I eat anything else, I’ll pop!”

“It’s medicine,” A/id put the cup to the other’s lips. “It’ll help soothe that belly ache, babe.”

The pink fluid was tipped into parted lips, its chalky taste coating the mouth and throat when swallowed.

“Now, where were we?” A/id spoke as he pushed the chopper’s legs apart and dropped to his knees. “I think someone needs a reward…. Don’t you think?” Servos rubbed over that swollen beachball of a belly, ghosting the gentlest touch over that stretched protomesh. “Just lookit how big you got. Are you all full and cozy?”

Vor/tex rolled his optics, then clenched them shut as yet another gurgle rippled through his gut.

“Awwww, that’s it…. Let it out, baby.” A/id cooed. His servos rubbed in wide circles over the vast crest of the tummy, then his face dipped in to steal a kiss. “You did such a swell job. I think you need a reward, don’tcha think?”

Vor/tex’s engines nearly revved at that thought, and he repositioned his hips for what he thought he would receive. However, the medic’s hands stilled any movement.

“Oh, don’t worry. All my attention is going to be on you and you alone…” A/id sA/id sweetly, between pecking kisses to the rumbly belly. “I’ll make you feel all good in no time.”

“Hey A/id…. I’m up here…” Vor/tex pointed his servos upwards and gave his most alluring grin, but his partner paid him no mind.  Instead, he just felt the belly rub and kisses. “You know….” He sighed, resting his helm on the back of the chair. He could go for some kisses right about now…but his lover was too busy focusing on his bulging stomach. He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his optics at his lover’s actions.

 He wanted to be doted on…. Not his tummy.

“Oh, you are such a big boy, aren’t ya?” A/id hummed, giving a long smooch to the tummy while servo’s gently patted. “Such a lovely tum-tum! What a treat you are to behold.”

Oh, Prim/us! That patting, while gentle, just jostled around his stuffed gut, causing it to churn. He could feel cramps kicking in as the pressure built inside. This was the worst case of the bubble guts he had ever experienced! It felt as if pop rocks and soda were mixed in his gut as excess gas built up and tickled from the inside. Painful spasms erupted, and fingers chased the contracting areas but to no avail. Nothing would soothe this angry breast!

 That tickling sensation traveled upwards, and the ‘C/on’s optics shot open. Pressure rose up his throat, and without much warning, a large bark of a burp erupted and echoed through the room. His servo quickly covered his mouth, fearing the expulsion of stomach contents. Thankfully, it was just a loud, wet belch. However, the acidic tang of fluid did not serve well as an after-dinner mint.

“Oh, that sounds like someone’s a piggy-wiggy!” A/id used a higher-pitched, cutsey-wutsy tone to his voice as his nose was gently rubbed against the firm mesh. “Someone needs to learn some manners, doesn’t he? Hmmmm?”

Vor/tex growled, though from annoyance from his partner or relief of the built-up pressure, no one knew. But each time his belly quaked, fingers were quick to rub small, soothing circles over the erupting spasms. And every time pressure built in his gut, A/id worked to free the trapped gas, pressing the belly just enough to literally burp the air out of him.

“Does baby feel better now that he’s been burped?” A/id coddled, messaging his fingers on the still swelled but not quite as bloated belly. “There’s a good boy…you ate so well for me tonight…”

Fi/rst A/id prattled on complimenting the paunch, and Vor/tex just harrumphed. Until those hands and mouth travelled southward. He licked his lips and spread his legs in anticipation of what was to come.

And let out a frustrated whine when those digits danced and mouth sucked on his chubbed up thighs and not…well, somewhere else. “Prim/us A/id!” The ‘C/on all but shouted. “You’re such a fraggin’ tease!”

“Hmmmm?” The medic feigned innocence. “Oh, these juicy drumsticks need some loving, would you say?”

Vor/tex only responded with a yelp as a set of teeth sunk into the meaty inner thigh, followed by licking and sucking. And when the Auto/bot hummed, the vibrations tickled through his thigh, shooting up his neuronet like a lightning bolt. If only that humming was someplace else…

But having his plumper thighs messaged at felt erotic. While he would never admit this out loud, having his partner dote and coo over his swelled tummy was nice. Just knowing A/id enjoyed feeding him made him feel good. Just knowing the weight gain turned his partner on was invigorating. Hearing the happiness in the medic’s voice made it pleasurable. Plus, the enthusiasm the Doctor had over baby-talking his gut was cute and rather enjoyable.

He could do without the pain from overindulging. But the pampering being stuffed to the limits brought on- even if it was just to his belly and thighs- was well worth it.

….. …..

as much as I want to keep editing this, I need to stop! This is long enough as it is! I almost went with on/slaught (feede)with vor/tex being the feeder…. But I dont know too much about on/slaught and I just couldn’t pass up aid baby-talking that tummy! It’s your fault really for getting me hooked on t/ex a/id…. O.0. Hope you like!