#so many ideas for the tube exit

[crowiin]

welcome to the world

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Roses are red... [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

[Timothée masterlist]

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A noise in the distance was responsible for waking you up from your not-so-pleasant sleep in the hard, cold bed that you had been using for almost a year. Could it be Scrubbit? It was too late for her to be doing anything, you thought, much less in the bedroom section. With some curiosity you slipped your cold feet into the even colder shoes to turn on the lamp on your table and left the room with the intention of discovering what that was.

Hallways always made you nervous and the thought of encountering something unpleasant made you even more uneasy, but you tried to keep your mind occupied with something else as you moved forward step by step. Seeing nothing outside the rooms, you continued down the spiral stairs and that was where you finally observed the cause of the commotion: a crouching body that made you jump in surprise.

“Mr. Wonka?” you whispered when you noticed the burgundy coat and this time it was your turn to startle.

“Oh, it's just you,” he laughed, a little more relieved “What are you doing here?”

“The noise woke me up. What are you doing here?” you asked back, seeing him fully dressed and with his shoes on.

“Trying to get out. I need to get an ingredient to finish tomorrow's chocolates” he explained to you.

True, tomorrow would be the big day where you guys would do your best to present your friend's chocolates to the world. You had to admit that at first you hadn't been fascinated by the idea, but after seeing all the good things that this had brought for the entire group you were more than willing to continue supporting in whatever way you could. That was why the next day you would sneak into the gourmet galleries during the day to help operate the shop that Abacus and Noodle had managed to rent. And you could tell that Wonka could barely contain his excitement.

“How do you plan to go out at this time?” you asked, as it was obvious that your usual exit through the laundry tube wasn’t an option.

“There's a space big enough for someone to get out in that part, see?” he murmured, pointing with his cane at a gap above the front door “I just need to get a good grip on this rope and I can climb up there. I will pull it to the other side and before dawn I will climb again.”

“And what if Scrubbit sees you?”

“She won't,” Wonka whispered, completely sure of himself. There was a brief silence between you, where you just looked at him with a certain claim and he returned that look with an amused "Do you want to come with me?"

"What? No!"

"Come on! It will be fun"

“I'm in my pajamas,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Then put on different clothes,” he quickly resolved, with a smile that was too enthusiastic for your liking. Looking at your doubtful expression he added: “It will only be a few hours, don't you want to get out of here?”

Although you were a little hesitant, after thinking about it a little and with the help of the man's hopeful expression you ended up being convinced. Making as little noise as possible you went up to your room to dress properly and when you returned he was already sitting on a step, waiting for you.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” you whispered close to him, half excited and half scared to death by what you were about to do.

You had gone out before, of course, but you knew that doing it at night was even riskier for many reasons you didn't want to think about right now.

He went first, just to check that everything was safe, and then you followed him, albeit with a little less grace. When you were above the door he reminded you to pull the rope for the time to return and when you looked at the height at which you were the idea of going down became less promising than at the beginning.

“Jump and I'll catch you” he exclaimed, noticing your frightened expression and you took a moment to try to calm down by breathing deeply.

You analyzed your options and thought that in that position you would have to go down anyway, and it was preferable to do it outwards, so without thinking too much about it you made a sign to the boy and then threw yourself forward with your eyes closed. You heard him exhale in surprise and the next thing you felt were his arms holding you, perhaps too tightly, as he feared you were going to fall suddenly.

"Are you okay?" he laughed softly, quite close to your ear. Upon hearing that you opened your eyes only to meet his, as green and beautiful as a pair of emeralds.

“Yes, everything is perfect” you sighed, and then he gently placed you on the floor. Without even expecting it you had already giggled too.

“Okay, go ahead.”

Without questioning him, you began to walk behind him and when you were a couple of streets away you were able to breathe more calmly, as if the weight of your captors had been reduced on your shoulders. Due to the schedule of your visits abroad, you hadn’t had the opportunity to appreciate the beautiful lights around you and you were sure that at that moment you looked like a child fascinated by them.

“They're pretty, right?” Wonka asked, confirming your hypothesis completely. Seemingly he had been watching you look at the decorations.

“They are,” you answered timidly. “What precisely are we looking for?” you asked next, still a little distracted by the environment, but trying to get his attention away from you.

“Some young rose leaves to make an infusion for the chocolate roses. I saw a full garden near the park the other time, when we were returning to the laundry. I think they can be useful”

“Are you feeling nervous?” you murmured gently, giving him your full attention now as you crossed your arms to keep some warmth. “About tomorrow.”

“A little… well, a lot actually. But in a good way,” he smiled “The truth is that I have never felt so nervous and excited in my life. All this is like a dream come true”

“I hope it’s perfect,” you murmured and you said it with sincere faith.

You had tried so hard to achieve all this that you were not only looking to do it to pay off your debt with Scrubbit, but also to see your new friend happy. And how would you not want that? Seeing him happy was a wonderful sight.

"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing that your figure was slightly curled in on itself. Apparently he was noticing a lot more than you would like.

"Only a little"

You were going to add that you were fine with it, but suddenly he stopped you by jumping in front of you and when you were about to ask what was happening, he undid the scarf around his neck to wrap it around yours. His movements were careful and the closeness forced you to hold your breath, only for your nostrils to then be flooded with the boy's aroma combined with the cheap detergent with which he had surely washed the garment.

"Better now?" the man smiled and since you didn't have time to assimilate the situation you just nodded, without stopping looking at him just because he kept looking at you.

You thought maybe this was what it would feel like to hug the boy, even though you had never done it, and then you hid your nose in the soft fabric. It had purple and green patterns on a gray background, quite pretty actually.

“The… the park. It’s there,” you stammered, pointing to a point behind your friend.

When he turned around he could see the rose bushes in the distance and let out an exclamation of joy, while his warm hand sought your wrist to guide you in their direction, causing a shiver to run through your entire body.

When you walked through the place and reached the plants he knelt next to the bushes, starting to rant about how functional these flowers would be, whether it was their leaves, the color, the shape... he listed more and more qualities, but you just could focus on the feeling on your neck and the warm ghost of his fingers on your skin.

And in that moment it was as if you had suddenly noticed something about him that you hadn't noticed at first; that there was some tenderness in his features that made you feel nervous or maybe it was his thin, skillful hands walking through the branches or even, daring to sound exaggerated, you would say that you suddenly noticed how handsome he really was. How did you notice it until now?

He said something and then you asked him to repeat it, since you had been too busy watching him to pay attention to his words.

“I asked you if you think any would be useful,” he said again. You took a look at the bush in front of you and pointed towards the first specimen you found, hoping that the talk would take away the thoughts that had invaded your mind.

To your surprise it turned out that the rose you had pointed out was quite pretty and, according to the requirements you remembered, it was perfect for the man's purposes. After congratulating your choice, he took out some scissors from his hat and carefully cut out the flower, to keep it in the same piece of fabric as the others that he had already selected.

“These roses will make the best chocolates, I can already imagine it,” he said with some pride, looking at the pile of plants you had. You hadn't even looked when he cut so many.

"They are beautiful"

"Yes, they are. And this one is for you."

If you had managed to get rid, even for a moment, of romantic thoughts towards him, right now he wasn't being very cooperative. Not when he was offering you the prettiest rose with such a sweet smile.

Why was he doing that? You did not know. Maybe he was just being kind and grateful, like he was most of the time.

“Huh, thank you, Mr. Wonka…”

“Be careful, he still has some thorns,” he warned you, “And stop calling me Mr. Wonka. “We are friends and my friends call me Willy.”

A small smile invaded your face and it was lucky that you were able to hide the blush on your cheeks with the excuse of inhaling the scent of the rose. It was exquisite, by the way.

“Then thank you, Willy,” you corrected yourself, to which he showed a satisfied expression.

And then a pleasant tickling invaded your stomach because, whether they were real flowers or chocolate flowers, it would always be a pleasure to receive such a cute detail from such a cute boy.

[selfishdoll]

❛favorite groupie...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

the last thing you wanted to do was go to a vampire bar just because your best friend’s favorite fanged band was playing. but you did.. and met a certain pink haired drummer whose way too cocky for his own good. luckily, you just love matching energy.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

vampires so mentions of blood, bloodsucking, period blood, etc. | self-indulgent asf (reader wears glasses) | semi-public sex | sukuna is a drummer & vampire | ooc sukuna | mean dom! sukuna | praise & degradation | use of the word “groupie” to mock at first but later used as a term of endearment(?) | “pet names” (pretty, doll, minx, sweetheart, etc) | strangers to lovers(? there may be a part two to this) | rough sex | manhandling | throat fucking | sukuna comes on reader’s glasses | pussy drunk sukuna & cock drunk reader | tipsy sex (buzzed really) | sukuna & reader match energy fr. try to see who folds first | denied orgasms | spanking | fingering | etc. if i forgot something tell me please.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

this story is heavily inspired by the old show “true blood” that i am currently obsessed with. that’s where i get the idea of a vampire bar & the term “fang-banger.” you will see several vamp fics because they’re literally my favorite supernatural creature. also, sukuna is gonna be ooc cause i’m sensitive & can’t make characters too mean 😞. also this got longer then i wanted it to so it’s like 5k+ words. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes.

Arabian Night burned upon the decorated holder rested on your vanity, the subtle notes of hyacinth and carnation tainting the atmosphere— warming the area around you. Your dark eyes were glued to the mirror, staring back at yourself delicately gliding the tube of mascara along your lashes, careful to assure no product got into your eye.

“I can’t believe you’re really making me go to a vampire bar.” The words left your glossed and lined lips in a hiss, eyes rolling the moment you heard your friend attempt to defend herself on facetime. To be frank you didn’t hate vampires. There weren’t many differences between them and humans. They were both beings that simply fed on other things to survive.

A hamburger to a human was no different then blood to a vampire.

But, you still did your best to avoid them. Which was easy since they were limited on when they come out and most establishments didn’t allow them in. Your friend knew this, knew your justifiable fear of being some vampire’s next meal— yet urged and lowkey manipulated you to going to a vampire bar.

“They’re only here for a week! We’re the first place they’re touring— we have to go!”

Through many days of urging, guilt trips, and puppy eyes you caved; declaring it would be cool to see a vampire’s world or even interact with them. You were still scared but the fear was sure to melt, right?

You rose from the plush pink chair, stepping back into the view of the full body mirror pressed against your wall. Placing your glasses back on, you looked over your form, searching for any imperfections. The outfit was simple; a red cropped edhardy jacket, your lacey white bra poking out from underneath. You wore dark blue jeans with a red belt, white thong straps resting high on your hips. You pursed your lips a bit, gliding your fingers through the honey brown lace you wore, watching the curls bounce perfectly. With another glance over and a push of your glasses you were satisfied, sliding your sock covered feet into some white sneakers— grabbing your other necessary belongings shortly after.

You exited your home locking up behind yourself and heading towards your car. You would have driven with your friend but there was a chance she would end up under the arm of some hot vampire.

“Fang-banger..” Was the simple word that escaped your glossed lips, grinning just a tad as you turned the engine over. She would be pissed to hear you call her that.

After about fifty minutes of driving you arrived to the bar, the entrance surrounded by people. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the anxiety rose. Sure humans were welcome and you’ve heard relatively good things about this particular establishment.. but there were still vampires.

A being that could end you in a single bite.

The thought alone caused you to shiver, shutting your car off and squeezing the steering wheel. You gave yourself a few moments before pulling your hands away, releasing a deep breath and opening your car door. Exiting it, you closed and locked the vehicle; turning in time to see a bubbly woman rushing towards you.

You instinctively opened your arms, eyes rolling as she practically tossed herself into them. You grumbled as kisses were pressed to your cheek, your best friend thanking you over and over again for coming.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever.” You mused, ignoring her hands groping your ass. Your hands lowered to her shoulders, pushing back a bit. “The band is gonna start soon, right? Come on.”

“Oh, right!” She grinned, pulling away whilst locking her hand around your wrist. You were then tugged towards the bar entrance, your free hand gripping your sleeve nervously. Your eyes peered up at the woman beside the door, her red colored lips pulling into a tiny grin at the sight of you and your friend.

A very toothy grin.

“IDs?” She questioned in a velvety tone, eyes focused on you for a split moment— as if sensing your nervousness. You breathed, reaching into the handbag you carried and grabbing your wallet. There you grabbed your identification, passing it to her while your friend did the same.

The woman glanced over the cards for a moment before nodding, passing them back to you two. “You’re all set, have fun girls.” She winked, stepping to the side to let you both inside.

Your friend giggled excitedly as you entered the bar, your eyes dancing around the area. It was a normal bar really; regular tables, a medium sized stage, and a dance floor. People of many different ethnicities — and species — danced and conversed, enjoying drinks and each other. Seeing a vampire feeding in real life was completely abnormal to the point you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare so much, it’s rude.” Your best friend whispered, stealing your attention from the scene. You went to apologize, her only smiling and shaking her head. “Here, let’s get some drinks.” She led you over to the bar, the two of you sitting down as she gained the bartender’s attention. She ordered two simple shots, the man nodding and getting right to them.

“I just.. never expected something like this.” You murmured, eyes dancing about. You did your best on not focusing too hard on a vampire sinking their teeth into someone’s neck or a couple basically humping on the dance floor; instead finding interest in the gothic decor and paintings that depicted the bloodsuckers. You turned back to your friend after the once over, giving a nervous smile. “I expected something bad, I guess.”

Your friend shrugged, flashing a gentle smile— thanking the bartender once your drinks were placed down. “A lot of people do. They hear vamp bar and think the worst.” She spoke softly, grasping her shot glass, watching you grab your own. “Even though I forced you.. I’m really happy you came.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, clinking your glass against hers. “Whatever slut.” You downed your drink, listening to the small snort that escaped your friend before she downed her own.

During this the lights on the stage flicked on, members of the bar shouting in excitement. Your friend did the same, turning in her seat at the bar with the widest grin. “They’re here!”

You could only smile at her excitement for her favorite vampire band known as Malevolence. You forced yourself to listen to their most recent music to appease your friend and while you didn’t hate the songs, it just wasn’t something you could get into.

Sigh.. the things you did for friendship.

You rested against your palm, watching as four individuals trudging on stage. Your eyes traced their forms, not overly impressed until you moved onto the last member. The drummer. He was.. better looking then the other three. Tall with pink hair and a black undercut. He wasn’t slim but wasn’t large either, right in the middle. Along with his physique were tattoos along his arms, the rest of his body covered in a black muscle shirt, baggy pants for bottoms.

“Who’s the drummer?” You questioned, eyes glancing at the bartender and requesting another shot. Your friend blinked as she turned, flashing a smile.

“His name’s Sukuna!” Her smile morphed a bit, a little coy now. “He’s not well liked by the media. He’s a little mean.”

You believed her, given how he scowled at a few fans that shouted his name. Even snapping at his bandmates for something briefly. Any interest you had melted away in that instant.

You straightened as they finished setting up the stage, the guitarist stringing his instrument a few times. You smiled at the bartender as he passed your shot, thanking him and taking a swig.

Soon enough, Malevolence started its first song of the night— the bar singing along to the rough voice of the band. You had to admit, it was nice to hear live and see humans bond over their shared love for the music.

You didn’t totally regret coming here.

The band played for about an hour and a half, fans close to the stage attempting to touch and or be touched by the fanged members. It was all entertaining to see, you and your friend taking several videos for your social media.

They closed out their show around ten o’clock, thanking the audience. You cheered along with the others, grinning and turning to your friend. “That was a lot of fun. They sound so good.”

“I know right!” She giggled, completely geeking out about the band. You listened to her ramble intently, the buzz of the alcohol lighting your senses. During her words, however, she suddenly placed a hand onto her stomach. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time.” You waved the girl off as she rushed over to the bathroom, body turning to face the bar. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your social media for a moment, simply waiting.

That was until you heard the chair two seats down be moved, followed by an annoyed voice.

“Piss off already. I’m not interested.”

It was no surprise your nosy self turned to spot the one and only Sukuna sitting at the bar, waving off a few girls that surrounded and attempted to touch him. The dejected expressions that clung to their featured nearly saddened you, if amusement didn’t interrupt the emotion.

You took a long stare at the man, watching as he instructed the bartender to pour him a glass of some liquid in a tall dark bottle; not even thanking him once he was served. You hadn’t realized your eyes were still on him until the man turned in his chair, facing you.

“You need something? I already said I’m not interested.”

You blinked a bit, snapping out of your trance whilst placing your arm against the bar. You sucked your teeth, turning. “Do I look like a fang banger to you?” You questioned, tone a little rude. From the corner of your eye you spotted the man taking a sip from the glass, tongue gliding across his bottom lip.

“No.” Sukuna started softly, fingers tapping against the short glass. “More like some needy groupie.” His tone was mocking, watching in amusement as you turned to face him with a subtle snarl.

It took a moment for you to reply, raising your shot glass and downing the rest of the alcohol. The burning sensation covered your body, melting your usual filter away. “Even if I was a groupie, I would try to fuck the singer— even the guitarist.” You murmured, knowing his inhuman ears would pick up each word. “Not some vamp that beats on the drums.”

His eyebrows rose, releasing a breathy chuckle as he took another gulp from his glass. You watched carefully, breathing the moment you noticed the hint of red staining his fangs. How his tongue glided to collect the residue, clearly enjoying the liquid you now realized was blood. Sukuna’s eyes landed on you once again, the glass clinking against the bar the moment he placed it down.

“You got a lot of mouth.. defending yourself pretty hard too.”

“And you’re implying?”

Sukuna gave a crooked grin, tapping the counter to which the bartender stepped over to fill his glass back up. “You’re just trynna convince yourself you don’t want me. Scared of being a fang banger?” The vampire’s tone was mocking again, enjoying the way you glared and snarled.

“Please.” You hissed softly, shifting in your seat, ignoring the warmth flooding through your body. “Ain’t shit to be scared of. Vampires are no different from a human man.”

To your surprise the man began to laugh, hunched over the bar with his forehead nearly pressing against the brown wood. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth the moment eyes turned to your spot at the bar, sinking into yourself.

“Sweetheart—“ He begun, laughter ceasing into nothing more than a snort. “I assure you I’m different than any other human man that you’ve been with.”

“Why, because you’re cold with no beating heart?”

“No, cause I’ll fuck the attitude out of you permanently.” Sukuna responded far too quickly, watching you gape like a fish for a moment, finally deciding to keep your mouth shut and turning to face the bar. He smirked at this, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head. “Cat got your tongue?”

You closed your eyes, breathing softly. You weren’t a fang-banger, you tried to convince yourself; attempting to ignore how much you were closing your legs together— avoiding his eyes that just highlighted he knew what you were abstaining from.

But as a moment of silence passed you felt that restraint dwindle. Whether the alcohol, Sukuna, or just you being fucking reckless— any logical part of your brain was rendered useless.

So, while pushing your glasses up you turned to face his awaiting gaze. “Prove it.” You dared softly, tilting your head at him.

Sukuna’s mouth quirked, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned to the bartender. “Put it on my tab. Hers too.” He spoke, rising from his barstool. His hands found his pockets, motioning for you to follow with a tilt of his head. Rather quickly — embarrassingly so — you grabbed your things, following close behind him.

“My name is (Y/N), not her.”

“Think I like sweetheart better.” Sukuna spoke, leading you towards a door stationed beside the stage. You shouldered your bag as the two of you entered backstage, coming to a hallway. Three doors rested on the walls, you following the vampire who lead you to the one at the end of the hall.

He turned the knob, pushing open the door to reveal a simple room. A black vanity, a red sofa, with a black coffee table in the middle. Sukuna closed the door behind you, watching you for a moment as you bent to place your phone and purse down.

You turned, breathing softly the moment he stepped close to you. Your eyes traveled from his chest up to his face, licking your lips nervously. The man tilted his head with a little smirk.

“You were so damn cocky at the bar.. thinking of backing out?”

The nerves seemed to melt in that moment, stepping a bit closer, rising up to allow your lips to brush. “Sukuna.. are you gonna fuck the attitude out of me, or are you gonna keep talking?” Your eyes flicked between his lips and his dark eyes, gasping the moment you felt a cool hand rising to the back of your neck.

Wordlessly he leaned down, planting his lips against your own. His kiss was rough, stealing your breath away all while his tongue bullied it’s way past your pretty glossed lips. The wet, long muscle curled and slid against your own, licking into your mouth and claiming it as his own. The messy sounds of your lips surrounded the room, your soft moans following.

Sukuna’s hand moved to rest on your throat, thumb pressing against it just to feel you gulp. You pulled away for air, hissing the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, nicking the sensitive skin. He chased your lips for another kiss, licking away the little droplet of blood whilst moving you backwards.

Your hands rose to grip his body, feeling your back press against a wall. You gasped in his mouth as you felt his hand slide down your body, catching the zipper of your cropped jacket and pulling it down your body. The cool air brushed your cleavage, moaning softly the moment his fingers found your hardened nipple under the thin fabric of your bra.

You pulled back, head resting against the wall; whining the moment he pinched your covered bud. “Sukuna, quit fucking teasing.” You hissed, chest rising into his hand for more. The vampire grinned down at you, removing his hand from your breast to instead trail down your body, flicking the belt you wore; buttons of your jeans following.

Now with enough space his hand was entering your pants, two fingers pressing against your wet, covered slit. “Already a fucking mess and I barely touched you.” The drummer commented, face pressing against your collarbone, dragging his fangs across your warm skin. You whined as his fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties, legs widening and hips rising for more friction. Sukuna chuckled at this, fingertips pressing against the swollen bud, rubbing harsh circles upon it. “Opening your legs for a vampire like this— oh, what a minx you are.”

“Piss off.” You mustered, attempting to keep your resolve in tact. You cried out however, the moment he pinched your clit, the light pleasure and pain melding together.

“Still mouthing off huh?” Sukuna spoke, pulling away from your neck, hand rising to grab your cheeks. His thumb pressed against your lips for a moment before pushing into your mouth, pressing against your tongue all while his fingers entered your panties. The man didn’t tease this time, covering the digits in your slick before sliding them into your damp entrance. He wasted no time in curling the digits inside you, pressing against your gummy walls and growing closer to allow his palm to grind against your clit. A toothy grin was sent your way the moment he felt and heard your muffled moans, fingers scissoring inside your messy pussy, the wet squelches entering the room.

The muffled gasp of his name escaped you the moment he added a third finger, thrusting the digits quickly; stirring you up inside. Your hand fell to his wrist, pretty acrylics digging into his limb, clawing up tattooed skin. Your legs shook as the moments of pleasure continued, eyes pinched close as you felt your orgasm approaching.

Your toes curled, stomach tightening as you grew closer and closer; pussy spasming around his fingers so intensely, he actually added effort to his thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, fuck—!” You whined against his thumb, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth, gagging the moment he pushed the digit farther into your throat. You were so close, squeezing him so harshly that it hurt.

And yet, you weren’t pushed over the edge. Because just when you felt like you would break, the man stopped; withdrawing his fingers before you could even think of finishing yourself off.

Your eyes flew open, glaring at the shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The moment he pulled his thumb from your mouth you were hissing;

“What’s your problem? I was so cl—“

“Did you think you could mouth off like that and I’d would reward you with an orgasm?” Sukuna questioned, head tilted, eyes sweeping your form. The man’s hand rose, fingers pressing into your cheeks and pushing; watching your messy lips pucker. “Fucking needy, looking at you whining just for my fingers.” Sukuna released your cheeks to instead grasp your waist, moving you over to sit on the couch.

The moment your ass met the cushion you felt the heat rise around you, watching in excitement at his hands tugging on the waistband of his pants. Thumbs hooking on the elastic, the vampire pushed them down, black boxers following. His dick escaped the confinements easily, resting tall and thick, beads of precum resting deliciously on the tip.

You bit your lip a little, breathing the moment you felt his strong hand grab the back of your head. “Gonna use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful, yeah?” Sukuna grinned, watching how easily your lips parted, tongue sticking out. His other hand grabbed his shaft, inching closer just to side his tip across your wet tongue. The moment you tried to wrap your lips around his dick, he was pulling you back by the hair— ignoring the whine that you released.

“Impatient brat.” He murmured, instructing you to lay your tongue out. You obeyed, groaning the moment he tapped his dick against the muscle, shallowing fucking your open mouth with just the tip. After a few moments of the teasing, Sukuna was flicking his hips forward; enjoying the way tears sprung to your eyes, hands rising to press against his hips. With no care for your well-being, the vampire began to thrust in your wet cavern, your soft hair spilling through the gaps of his fingers as he gripped it.

Your tongue dragged across his shaft with each thrust into your mouth, eyes closed as you breathed heavily through your nose. The sound of your saliva, gagging, and wet thrusts carried in the room; your hand falling between your legs to rub your clit, moaning around his cock. Your jaw began to ache from the relentless thrusts, the combined mess surely tainting the bottom half of your face— concerns that you could care less about.

Sukuna watched you carefully, gripping your hair, enjoying the way your cheeks would puff with each thrust. The moment he noticed your hand however, he was shoving his cock deeper, leaning to snatch your wrist. You went to whine, the noise coming out as nothing more then a wet, jumbled mess. He grinned above you, continuing to fuck your throat; “Gonna cry about it? Go ahead.” Sukuna snickered, gritting his teeth the moment he felt his orgasm getting close.

His head tilted back, breathing as pink strands rested against his forehead. Sukuna’s hips never stopped, heavy balls slapping against your chin as his grip on your hair began to ache. “Fuck.. such a good fucking groupie, letting me use your mouth like this.” Sukuna teased, feeling the vibration of your moans around his length. He looked back down, pacing increasing, strings of groans and swears escaping him.

The vampire pumped inside your wet mouth a few more times before he was pulling out, making a mess on your face. His come covered your lips, cheeks, and glasses; you quickly sucking up air greedily, tongue gliding across your lips to lick away his mess.

You breathed as his hand found your chin, raising your face to get a good look at you. Sukuna was truly satisfied with his work, grinning down at you. His thumb wiped some of the milky liquid left on your cheek, moving over to your mouth and watching you lick and suck his digit clean. “Mm.. that’s a good girl.” He praised, withdrawing his thumb and pulling your glasses off shortly after.

His hand slid to your throat the moment he pressed your lips together, rising you up a bit while you held onto his wrist. Sukuna’s tongue invaded your mouth once again, making it an even bigger mess. Soon he pulled away, staring down at you.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and that attitude is no where to be seen. Maybe I shouldn’t..“ Sukuna was pulling away before you could even respond, reaching as if going to pull his pants up. “— looks like I already proved myself, right?” You quickly shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrists. The vampire laughed at this, coming closer to trap your form between him and the couch. “C’mon use your words, sweetheart. What exactly do you want?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring into his eyes. You were sure if you didn’t say anything in the next few seconds he would turn and exit the room, leaving you high and dry. You swallowed your pride, rising up higher to rest your hands onto his chest. “You. I need you so bad, Sukuna— please.” You gasped out, crumpling his shirt into your hands.

Sukuna listened to your pleas greedily, a permanent grin painted across his face. Just when you thought it didn’t work he was grabbing your shoulder, turning and pushing you to lay across the couch. Your heart beat fast against your chest, feeling the cushion dip as kneeled behind you. In one swift motion he was pulling your jeans and panties all the way down, revealing yourself to him.

The moment you tried to close your legs, his palm slammed against your ass; causing a cry to escape you, pressing your face into the cushion. “Don’t even try that. Wanted this so bad, you better fucking take it.” Sukuna hissed, grasping his length as he lined up with your fluttering entrance, carefully pushing in.

The stretch teetered between pleasurable and painful, rising onto your hands and gripping the cushions underneath you as you could do nothing but whine, body shaking. Sukuna sneered at your withering form, gripping your hips tightly. “‘M not even all the way in and you’re already losing yourself..” With a final thrust he was all the way in, resting deep inside your messy pussy, stretching you so pretty. You cried out the moment his fingers gripped your hair, pulling you into a deep arch whilst hovering over body, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think I ain’t no different then a human man?”

“Fu..fuck you.” You whimpered out, breathing heavily the moment he adjusted his hips.

Sukuna snickered softly, “You already are, princess.” With the continued grip on your hair he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside, slamming back in. The movement caused your body to lurch forward, gasping out and greedily sucking the air back up. You opened your mouth to speak, shutting up the moment another thrust racked through your body.

And another.. and another.. and another—

His pace was relenting from the start, fucking you so harshly your body bumped against the arm rest of the couch; nails digging into the cushions as shameless moans escaped you. Each time you attempted to pull away, to run— he was grabbing you back, slapping your thighs, ass, anything he could reach. All while speaking to you in that mocking tone, ridiculing you.

“Had so much to say yet you’re running..”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, the thought melting away as his thrusts ruined you. His cock dragged against your walls, fucking each and every thought out of your mind; replacing them with him. Your eyes were pinched close, drawls of his name and moans escaping your swollen lips. “Su—sukuna, fuck..!” You cried out, feeling yourself get close.

Sukuna’s hands kept a tight grip on your hips, bottom lip caught between his sharp fangs the moment you began to fuck back against him. Your ass shook with each bounce, the man zoned in on the erotic display. Fuck, you felt so good, way too good. The man sucked his teeth, hand falling to your ass cheek and slapping one, thrusting harder than before. “Greedy fucking pussy, clenching me so damn tight..” He dragged, a groan rumbling in his chest.

Tears sprung to your eyes, head going slack as a loud cry escaped you, creaming all over his length. The mess trickled down to his balls and the couch, soaking the cushion. Your tired body went slack against the furniture, feeling his thrusts slow, but never stop. A sudden tight grip on your hair had your reeling, whining as he pulled you back.

“I’m not fucking done with you.”

The vampire wasted no time and flipping you onto your back, pulling you down by your thighs and pushing them up to sink deeper inside you. Your hands clung to his wrists, crying out at the slight burn the stretch left you. You were given no time to think, the man resuming his fearsome thrusts at a completely different angle, ramming agonist a spot inside you that caused you to completely lose your mind.

Your hands went slack, lips agape as babbles and moans escaped your raw throat. Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, makeup a mess with wet dark streaks running down your chubby brown cheeks. Sukuna enjoyed the sight completely, eyes flicking between your face and the way his cock slid inside your pretty pussy, the white foamy mess coating his length.

He leaned over your body, legs now held up by his shoulders as he continued to fuck you. “What a mess you are.” The man hissed, hand reaching to grab your chin. “Can’t even think straight can you? I’m fucking you too dumb huh?” He mocked, your sweet moans music to his ears.

Your hands rose to his back, gripping his shirt for leverage as you came again, painting his lower body with your mess. Sukuna laughed softly at this, still fucking you despite just orgasming. “Claimed you weren’t a fang-banger yet here you are, coming all over my dick. Such a liar, (Y/N).”

Your whines didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s hand falling to your waist and lifting you up a bit, drilling into you. His cock pushed against your cervix, the pain melting with each thrust inside. You barely even registered his fangs pressing against your skin until they entered your collarbone, a strangled whine escaped you.

The man sucked the crimson droplets that released from the wound, blunt fingernails digging into your skin; Sukuna slowly getting drunk off your taste. When he had his fill he was pulling away, licking up the residue and sealing the wound. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head from the couch to lock lips; the metallic taste of your blood causing you to groan— all while continuing to jackhammer into you.

The vampire was right, he was fucking the attitude out of you. You so pliable, gripping onto him as if he was a lifeline and you were in the open sea. Your legs were trembling, pussy clenching and clenching, as he swallowed the sweetest moans with his lips tainted with your blood. A fucking mess you were.

His mess, obviously.

A different type of clench entered your stomach, one that caused your eyes to fly open. You pulled back from the kiss to cry out, gripping him tightly. “Wa—wait, Sukuna— hah…— please slow down!” You somehow managed out, hazy eyes staring up at the clear distaste resting on his features.

He didn’t listen, slamming into you roughly, swatting the hand away that went to press against his hips. Sukuna tutted at the whine that escaped you, drilling you deeper and deeper into the furniture. “Make another mess, ruin this fucking couch.” He hissed, feeling his own end growing close.

You tried to hold it back, back arching from the cushions as black filled streaks continued to glide down your cheeks. Soon enough you could no longer contain yourself, the band snapping inside you as you screeched in pleasure; drenching the cushions underneath you, making a complete mess of the both of you.

Sukuna grinned at this, far too caught up in his own pleasure to release a snarky comment. Instead his face fell to your neck, thrusts becoming uncoordinated before he shoved himself deep, flooding you with his come.

The sound of your pants entered the space, your hands continuing to hold onto Sukuna. Your head fell back against the couch, eyes pinched closed and focused on regaining your breath.

Moments passed before the vampire rose, pulling his hips back, shushing the sensitive whine that escaped you. Once no longer inside, Sukuna’s hands dragged down to spread you more, watching pearly white beads trickle from your opening and down to your taint. The man smirked just a tad, eyes carrying back to your tired face.

“Looks like you’re a fang-banger now.” Sukuna spoke, watching you attempt at a frustrated face which melted away the moment his thumb slid across your slit.

“Fuck, Sukuna.. I’m too sensitive right now.” You whimpered, shying away from his touch. You gasped as he gripped your thighs however, dragging you farther down the couch.

Sukuna leaned over your body, resting on a forearm placed above your head. “You have seven minutes sweetheart.”

You rose an eyebrow at his words, adjusting yourself, “For what?”

The vampire grinned, curling a piece of hair around his finger. “If you thought I was gonna stop there, I fucked you far too dumb. I’m getting rid of that attitude permanently, remember?”

Your eyes widened, excitement and fear bubbling inside you. The man leaned down, stealing your lips in a deep kiss.

You were thankful you thought to send a text message to your best friend to leave when she wanted, given you didn’t leave the room until the bar closed.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 4: ~

Farther and Son:

So, I'm back at work full-time now that Christmas is over, and I'm not sure how often chapters will be posted. Hopefully, once a week.

Tw: Coma.

'What did the doctors say?'

'They put Tommy through the Scale Assessment,' Jennifer explained with tears running down her face and smearing her makeup. 'Fifteen is mild. Three, you're practically brain-dead.' She paused. Her shoulders twitched. Jennifer whimpered. Addair wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and without a second thought, she nestled into him and began to weep. 'He only scored a seven.'

Addair's body went cold. His heart stopped. His eyes widened, and he, too, began to cry. He was going to lose his eldest son, who had just finished his GCSEs and wanted to join the Army, was now fixed to a hospital bed and being fed through a tube. The man looked at his hand, where skin was peeling from his palm and fingers from a lifetime of manual labour. They were unsightly to look at, even before his infection, but they carried so many memories.

Tommy's birth came to mind. He remembered the day he was born. When he was able to hold him in his hands. Only six pounds with a small tuft on blonde hair. Addair, who was already balding, joked about how they had matching hairstyles.

The happiest day of his life. Today, a nightmare.

'What is that, Sarge?'

'I don't know.'

'What should we do?'

'I don't know.'

Possibly the only pair of police officers in the village, followed Addair from the safety of their car. Addair didn't acknowledge them and just kept moving forward. He only had one destination, and nothing was going to stop him.

Braemar looked like a ghost town. Addair's arrival caused everyone to hide in their homes and lock the doors. But, they were curious, especially the children. Nothing happened in a place that had a population of less than a thousand people. Eyes watched Addair from the windows with a mix of awe and fear. They had no idea what he was. But they had realised he wasn't giving anyone a moments notice. He didn't try and climb over the buildings to make a quick exit or sink his tendrils into pavement, but instead, he moved lightly, which made him slow. To the locals, he looked like a monster, but he didn't act like one.

Thankfully, Addair was moving so slowly that Caz and Roy easily caught up in the car. Roy pulled up, allowing Caz to jump out and dash down the icy pavement. Why didn't the council put grit out?

Caz didn't need to sense Addair. He could see the English cunt turning down to the right. He was just following the main road out of town. Not even thinking about the police, Caz ran past them. His foot lost its grip, and he collided with a lamp-post but quickly found his balance and pushed himself up.

'Addair?!' He stopped, turned, and stared down at Caz. 'Addair, what the fuck are you doing?' He didn't answer. Caz felt his anger rising. 'Don't just stare at me. Answer my fuckin' question. You think you can just wander off and go wherever the fuck you want-'

'I'm going to see my son!'

'You just saw your sons!'

'Tommy,' Addair snapped. 'I'm going to see Tommy!'

Caz's face fell. The 'dream' came creeping back into his mind. He replayed it in his head, and the pieces fell into place. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a memory. That was Addair's thoughts. How he thought that day played out. Caz, somehow, in his sleep, saw into his mind.

'He could die, and you want me to hide away in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere?!' Now knowing his name and that he can talk, the locals listened. They were curious. 'I don't care what I look like, and I don't care what they think. My face could be on the front of every newspaper, but nothing is stopping me from seeing him.'

Caz didn't reply. He was shocked. As much as he didn't like Addair, his feelings were justified because if he was in his position, Caz would do the same. He'd end the world for his girls. If being infected meant Cait and Maidie would be safe, he'd jump head first into the mass. He was one of the crew members who didn't know about Tommy.

'So,' the younger police officer stepped out of the car, along with the Sarge. They didn't get close. 'There's more of you lot?'

'No.'

'But he has a son?'

'He's human.'

'He is?'

'Yes.'

'What the fuck happened?'

'Long story. Look,' Caz sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'I'll take care of this, and we'll get out of your way, aye?'

'Aye,' the Sarge was quick to reply. He was an older man who clearly didn't want any change in his village. 'Just go before some eejit newspaper gets here.'

Addair turned to leave. Caz quickly grabbed what he could of his arm.

'No.'

'Didn't you just-'

'If you want to go to London, then you're not walking there, and you're not going by yourself.' There was a pause as Addair's face softened, then he slowly formed a smile. He really wasn't going to get away from Caz or anyone from Beria. This really was his new reality.

'Prick,' he chuckled.

Roy's finger tapped the steering wheel with a cigarette tightly pursed between his lips, waiting for something to go wrong. He audibly sighed when Caz got back into the car with Addair following, but he kept his guard up when he saw the police. He wasn't insured to drive, and as much as he loved Caz, he wasn't going to join him in jail.

'Alright?'

'Yeah,' Caz groaned. 'I think we're-'

The car rattled. Addair wrapped a tendril around the vehicle and hoisted it in the air, and began walking back for the farm.

'Addair, you fuckin' cunt, we can drive!' He didn't answer and just kept walking. 'I know you can hear me, Addair. Addair - Oh, Jesus Christ...!'

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

First years + Grim ‐ With Silly & Strong Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

To @kawaistrawberry21 I hope you like this! I'm not good at being funny, so I just went with the silly and strong thing. The reader is in Ramshackle but is NOT Yuu. The reader CAN use magic but is naturally very physically strong. The reader's physique is described as tall and muscular. The reader is silly in a sort of oblivious and sarcastic way. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻

The demon-weasel-cat magician thing, Grim.

Grim actually met you after the orientation ceremony; when he was tossed out by the Headmage, Dire Crowley.

Apparently, the Dark Mirror believed that you weren't fit for any of the dorms inspired by the great seven, but it would be a waste of potential for you not to attend Night Raven College.

Thus, you were sent on your way to the Ramshackle dorm. And that's when you two bumped into each other, literally; his flight from the hall of mirrors exit door had come to an end on impact with your hard, muscled back.

You were at first distracted from him; not even registering that he had hit you. Your mind is occupied with finding your magical pen which you seemed to have misplaced. That was the reason you had given yourself for uprooting one of the many stone benches that lined the walkway; totally not just to see if you could lift it, definitely not.

After you had realized that something had hit your back, you turned and looked around with a "Hm?", only to see nothing. Shrugging, you made your way to the Ramshackle dorm, unknowing of the cat-like monster that clung to the back of your orientation robes.

👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•💀•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

The literal bane of my existence, Ace Trappola.

He first met you when he went to the Ramshackle dorm to spend the night after he was collared by Riddle. Though, instead of Yuu, it was you who had ended up letting him in.

However, you seemed to have accidentally ripped the door right off its hinges. Ace was appalled at the raw strength you displayed, but he got a good chuckle in when you had said "Magical tape from Sam's and a little elbow grease should do the trick." before dramatically flexing your arms.

Then, after he had explained his situation to both you and Yuu, you had offered to go with him to apologize.

When Ace asked why you would help him when the two of you had just met, you explained how even if you never ended up meeting him personally or even learning his name, you would always help out your peers whenever you had the chance.

You had told Ace how you had been in a similar situation and that even if you felt that you'd done nothing wrong, you had still ended up apologizing at the end. Explaining to him that it was better to apologize and move on than to have someone angry at you over something that could be solved so easily.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

Our resident ex-delinquent, Deuce Spade.

You actually met him in class when the both of you were paired together for a project.

It was going well at first until you kept accidentally breaking the flasks and test tubes needed to complete the project. Deuce got a little heated and grabbed you up by your shirt collar, to which you easily removed his hands.

You then came up with the idea of using folded notebook paper to hold the various spilled and somehow not mixed ingredients. "Paper funnels are useful for holding all sorts of powders if you catch my drift." Deuce, in fact, did not catch your drift.

The poor boy had a panic attack at the thought of failing the project; rambling about how disappointed his mother would be in him. Deuce was hyperventilating and unable to calm himself on his own; so you took the initiative to remind him to breathe. You encouraged him to use you to ground himself so he could calm down.

After that little hiccup, you both agreed that Deuce would manage the fragile items from then on.

You both got an A- on the project.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

The goodest boy who's ever lived, Jack Howl.

He met you just before Magishift season came up. He had decided to use the NRC's weight room to train his body before the event. You were already there, working out.

Jack couldn't help but notice the absurd amount of weight you were lifting and was in disbelief at the sight of you not even breaking a sweat. He thought that was pretty admirable, but didn't approach you at first; you were a stranger after all.

It seemed he didn't even need to make the first move as you had approached him first; starting up a conversation about fitness and hobbies involving exercise. Over a few days, the two of you started talking and found that you got along quite well and became close friends in a very short amount of time.

One day Jack brought up the possibility of learning your training regiment and trying it out for himself. You supported him wholeheartedly and even gave him a really inspiring and touching pep talk.

You also told him if his muscles ever hurt too much after a workout, you'd carry him wherever he needs to go. He gave you a playfully annoyed look, lightly punching your arm.

The weight room is now your little hole in the wall to hang out at.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

The manliest man in Pomfiore, Epel Felmier.

Epel first met you in the NRC's cafeteria, while he was trying to escape the beautifying clutches of his dorm head and vice dorm head.

He had quite literally bumped into you, startling you to the point of your muscles tensing, causing you to snap your lunch tray in half with your bare hands. Your lunch landed on the ground with an unceremonious 'plop'. You sulked, your large stature slouching and shoulders slumping as you let out a defeated, "Aw man..."

Epel turned to see just who he'd bumped into and he turned pale while also feeling some sort of admiration. The boy in front of him towered over him, he looked like he could snap Epel in half like a twig.

Oops. He said that out loud.

You'd let out a hearty laugh and thanked Epel for his strangely worded compliment; telling him you worked out occasionally. His eyes sparkled as he clasped his hands in front of him and begged you to teach him your ways.

Epel told you of his dilemma; how he felt emasculated by his feminine appearance and below-average strength. However, you assured him that he was perfectly manly just the way he was and that if he didn't see it, you would keep on telling him until he believed it himself.

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

My favorite half-fae first year, Sebek Zigvolt!

He met you in passing while escorting Malleus to his class. Your unique look seemed to have caught the dragon fae's attention for a few moments before he returned his focus to the hallway in front of him.

That's all it took for Sebek to absolutely despise you; for a bit at least. A mere human caught his master's attention!? How dare they!! And after a small mention of how you, a mere human, may make a good knight from Malleus; Sebek made up his mind and went to confront you.

When he finds you, he challenges you to a duel in swordsmanship that you confusedly agree to.

At first, he had the upper hand due to your lack of knowing how to properly use a sword. He knocked you down continuously, yet you kept getting back up and refused to back down.

Then suddenly, with a burst of confidence, you swung your sword with great force, unintentionally using your full strength. Both swords shatter on impact and Sebek is thrown back onto his butt.

You look at the broken metal on the ground in embarrassment, bringing your hand up to cup the back of your neck.

"Uuuh.... Whoops?..."

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻

The enigmatic boy from another world; Yuu.

He met you when he and Grim first came to Ramshackle Dorm. You were standing in front of a broken door in the common room, presumably one that was already broken judging by the state of the dorm itself. He cleared his throat to get your attention, then introduced himself and you both hit it off from there.

Yuu unfortunately found out about your ridiculous strength when, while cutting the steak on your plate during dinner, you accidentally cut your plate clean in half. Then the table itself unceremoniously snapped in half right where your plate was sitting. To say Yuu was traumatized was an understatement. He was horrified.

What the hell did you eat to be able to cut through porcelain like it's butter? And then the table!? Then you dared to look shocked? Wtf? Was everyone in this world freakishly strong?

Yuu could only stare at you silently like you were some sort of alien, causing you to look away guiltily.

"...Sorry..."

👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻•♡•👻

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[ashton-the-draconid]

Dragon-Drones MD AU Update!

Since so many people responded positively to the first post, I decided to go through with creating a Disassembly Drone model!

Male Disassembly Drone model next to the Worker Drone model

Female Disassembly Drone model closeup without wings Disassembly Drones have permanent claws attached to their paws, unlike the more bean-adjacent toes of the Worker Drones! The underside of their paws is where the items can exit, but the claws always remain. Their visor gains a warning striping instead of the usual X due to me not being able to figure out a way to make it look good. The beak attached to their face takes the place of their headband, working as a scanner! Their tail is a silicone tube instead of the usual cable, but is kept skinny for flexibility. If anyone wants to know more please feel to ask in the notes or my asks, I love answering questions :) Ideas are also appreciated!

Tagging people who showed interest: @wilko222 @15depressedducks @snowwinged-tum @thatweirdocryptid

[that-reading-geek]

Broken guitar strings

Crowley x Aziraphale, sugar daddy au, human au

Chapter one

Contains nsfw scenes

Posted on A03

Summary: Crowley realises he is struggling for money more than he thought and consults his best friend, who hooks him up with a sugar daddy.

(I hope this is okay, it's my first time posting soemthing so long on here! Enjoy the first chapter :3)

Crowley, simply put, was broke. A struggling musician with an unhealthy obsession with his plants and parents that refused to acknowledge his existence, he was living pay check to pay check, saving what little he had left in the event of a bad gig or a broken guitar string.

When he wasn’t busking in tube station entryways or performing in empty bars, he was working in the coffee shop a couple of streets from his apartment. The shop was small but had decent foot traffic and, being in Soho, the tips were plentiful. He had gotten used to the regulars, memorising their orders so the drinks were ready to go before the customer had even stepped foot through the doors. Crowley was charming to all of the customers, which helped him a great deal in the tip department, but there was a particular customer that, no matter his mood, always brought a smile upon the barristers face, and never failed to make him chuckle. He had spotted said customer exiting his bookshop across the road, and had his drink ready for when he undoubtedly stepped foot into the shop.

“Good morning Mr Fell,” Nina, the Coffee shops owner, called from behind the counter as Crowley added the finishing touches to Mr Fell's drink.

“Good morning Nina,” the man replied cheerily as he made his way to where Crowley was standing, “and Good morning my dear.”

“Mornin’ Mr Fell, one hot chocolate for you, extra marshmallows,” Crowley smiled, sliding the drink over.

“Oh marvellous,” Mr Fell beamed, picking up his drink and tapping his debit card to the reader. He took a sip and hummed contently, “perfect as always, thank you Dear.”

Crowley couldn’t help but rake his eyes over Mr Fell. The man was wearing his usual shirt and waistcoat, with his silly tartan bow tie and long coat. He didn’t appear to be much older than Crowley, who had recently turned 28, his hair was a natural near-white, and the lines around his eyes and mouth showed years of cheerful grins and happy smiles.

As he met Mr Fells eyes, the man smiled at him, before going through his wallet and sticking a £10 note into the tip jar. They stared at each other momentarily, before Mr Fell dipped his head.

“Thank you dear,” he said softly, before going and sitting in a booth, bringing his laptop out and working silently.

Crowley had gone back to his apartment after his shift. The place was dingy, with rickety stairs and chipping paint at every turn. He left his bag by the door after clicking it closed, kicking his shoes off and slumping onto the couch with a sigh. He stared at his guitar on its stand across the room, groaning at the very idea of performing tonight, but convinced himself that the show must go on, no matter how much he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep.

By 10pm he was at the same pub he spent every other night in, setting up a stool and doing sound check. He hummed softly as he strummed the strings a few times, before sitting and tapping the mic to gather the limited audience’s attention.

“Hey guys, uh, Crowley back again, I take requests if anyone wants to hear anything, enjoy,” he said awkwardly into the mic. No matter how many times he did this same routine, the awkwardness that came with the job never seemed to disappear, it was like a package deal.

He played a couple of songs, taking a few requests from one person in the crowd who seemed to be the only one actually paying attention to him, other than his personal cheerleader who sat at the bar. He made his way over after collecting the few tips he’d received and sat beside his best friend.

“Well done, I loved the third one,” Bee said, sliding a drink over to him.

“Yeah, can’t say the same about everyone else here,” he said, taking an uninterested sip, before grimacing, “What is this?”

“G&T,” Bee shrugged, “I’ll have it if you don’t want it.”

“Never said that,” Crowley said defensively, taking another sip of his drink.

Bee always turned up to each of his shows, occasionally buying him a drink to take the edge off. They’d known each other for a long time, Bee had always encouraged him to pursue his passions, and he had always returned the favour.

“How was work?” They asked.

“Eh, work, got decent tips though.”

“Enough to afford a better place?”

Crowley gave them a deadpan look, “No, doubt that’ll be happening any time soon, stop bringing it up.”

Bee shrugged and took a sip of their own drink, “wouldn’t be a problem if you...” they trailed off.

“No, shut up, not happening,” he said through gritted teeth. Bee held their hands up in defence.

Crowley groaned and stood up, finishing his drink. He made some excuse about having to water his plants and made his leave, with Bee laughing at his awkward departure.

The musician got home and left his guitar and bag on the couch before trudging to the bathroom to remove the smudged eyeliner he had worn for the show. He splashed some water on his face and made his way to bed, flopping down and neglecting to change out of his jeans in favour of falling asleep at that very second.

The next morning was a Saturday, and Crowley had the day off. He rolled out of bed at 11am, finally changing into more comfortable clothes and leaving the ones from last night in a pile on the floor. His thin blanket had done little to keep him warm during the night, and now all he felt like doing was taking a lovely warm shower and making some French toast.

He went to the bathroom and started the shower, waiting for it to heat up and found himself standing there for far too long. Giving up on the shower, he went to the kitchenette to find some bread and butter. He was once again disappointed at what he found: no butter and half a loaf of mouldy bread.

Crowley hated himself for what he did next, pulling out his phone and opening Bee’s contact.

Crowley

Remember what we spoke about last night?

The thing I refused.

Bee 🐝

Yeasssss?

Second thoughts????

Crowley

Maybe...

Bee 🐝

What pushed u over the edge?

Crowley

Mouldy bread and a cold shower.

Bee 🐝

I’ll give Gabe ur number, he’ll be delighted to find someone 4 u

Crowley

Great.

Gabriel, or Gabe, was Bee’s Partner, or more specifically, their sugar daddy. Bee used the term lightly, and Crowley was used to their dynamic, he never judged Bee and their way of income wouldn’t change that. He had met Gabe a few times, he was a nice man, and looked after Bee well, always treating them to dinner whenever they asked.

Crowley never thought his desperation would get this far, but he was slowly getting more helpless and his growling stomach would thank him, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

A message from an unknown number popped up on his phone, and he hesitated before opening it.

Unknown number

Hello Crowley, this is Gabriel, Bee said you were interested and gave me your number to have a chat? Wanna meet up at the park and you can meet a friend of mine. I’ll bring Bee with me.

Crowley

Mm, yeah, when and where?

Gabriel 💷

St.james’ at 4 work for you?

Crowley

Yeah sounds good, see you then.

Crowley groaned and pocketed his phone, before heading to his closet and finding a decent shirt and pair of jeans to change into. He got changed, applying a little bit of makeup, just eyeliner and concealer, and tried to make his hair look at least a little bit more like he hadn’t just rolled out of bed. He slid his sunglasses onto his face and grabbed his guitar. Crowley knew if would take a little while to get to the park, but he still had a couple of hours until their meeting time, but there was nothing to do here and he always liked a walk anyway.

He left his apartment and made his way through the city towards St James’s Park and found a spot beneath a tree to bring his guitar from its case and practise a few chords.

A couple of hours passed before he received a text from Bee asking where he was. He simply responded with a photo of the pop-up coffee cart he was opposite and waited for them to arrive.

“Crowley!” He lifted his head when he heard Bee call his name.

They were holding Gabe’s hand and dragging the man along with them. Crowley stood and put his guitar away in its case, before carefully leaning it against the tree he was underneath.

Gabriel extended his hand that wasn’t clutching Bee’s to Crowley and the musician shook it awkwardly. He tried to look behind Gabe, as though the friend he had told him about was somehow lurking behind him, yet to be seen.

Gabe chuckled and withdrew his hand from Bee, much to their disappointment. “My friend will be here in a moment, how does coffee sound whilst we wait?”

“Oh I cant... afford...”

Crowley was shocked when Gabe laughed loudly, before kissing Bee on the head and saying “Your friend is funny Dear,” he said with a smile, “I’ll buy you a coffee Crowley.”

Crowley scowled to hide his embarrassment before telling Gabriel his coffee order: black with as many sugars as the place allowed. The older man went to buy the three of them Coffee whilst Bee stood with Crowley so the two of them could talk.

“Is it weird?” Crowley started with.

“Is what weird?”

“Having a sugar daddy, does it not feel... strange?."

Bee looked at Gabe softly, who was waiting for the coffee, “It does at first, I felt guilty when Gabe and I were first.. yknow, but I got used to it. I still apologise every now and then, but he’s so sweet, he always makes me feel better when I feel guilty.

“Yknow, this sort of thing doesn’t always have to be sex, Gabriel’s paid me for just hanging out with him, you just need to discuss everything when it all starts, and set your boundaries.”

Crowley nodded a little. He remembered when Bee had first met Gabriel and they had refused to spend any of the money Gabe had given them out of pure guilt. It wasn’t until Gabriel took them out shopping that they actually spent it. He remembered how Bee had bought him the same pair of sunglasses he still wore to this day, and how happy they’d been after spending the day with Gabe. The two had shared their first kiss outside of the bedroom that day, and Bee was on the moon for many days after.

“Talk to me, talk to Gabriel if you need to, we’ll both help you with whatever decisions or whatever you might need,” Bee said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

Gabe returned with everyone’s coffees and the three of them sat on the ground together making small discussion.

It wasn’t until Gabe interrupted his own sentence that the conversation came to a halt.

“Aziraphale! Glad you’re here my friend,” the man grinned, causing Crowley to look up to see who he was talking to.

“Hello Gabriel, Bee, I am sorry I’m late,” the other man, Aziraphale, said as he stood above the group. He turned to Crowley and smiled a very charming smile. “Hello Dear, I wasn’t expecting to see your face.”

Crowley stared dumbstruck at the man in front of him, a man whom he recognised far too well. When he finally managed to find his words, all he could force himself to say was “ngh... uh, neither...”

Aziraphale smiled and carefully sat with the rest of the group, turning to Gabriel, who spoke before anyone else could. “You know each other?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Oh yes, this young man serves me almost every day at that darling coffee shop I told you about.”

It was at that moment that the man he knew as Mr Fell didn’t even know his name, despite the name tag he had pinned to his apron every day.

“Oh marvellous!” Gabriel said excitedly, “Well that may make things easier for you both then, Crowley here is looking for a sugar daddy, I knew you two would be a perfect match.”

Aziraphale beamed and turned to Crowley, “Yes I think we might just be,” he giggled, “how about we all go to dinner? And talk there? Then perhaps Mr Crowley and I can discuss this further.”

Crowley nodded numbly and Gabriel stood, pulling Bee up with him. He called a car for the four of them after the 2 older men had decided where to eat, Bee sat practically on Gabe’s lap in the car, the both of them chatting idly between them and leaving the other two to awkwardly make conversation.

“When Gabriel said he had a potential client for me, I wasn’t expecting to see my Barista,” Aziraphale said after a few moments of sitting in silence.

Crowley refused to meet his eyes and didn’t reply. Aziraphale cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.

“I’m sorry if this is awkward for you, we don’t have to go through with it if you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be offended.”

Crowley finally lifted his head but didn’t look him in the eyes, “ngk- Mr Fell, I don’t... sorry, I’m actually rather glad that it’s you, I just feel embarrassed,” he confessed. “This is new to me, so I’m a bit... overwhelmed.”

Aziraphale’s gaze softened and he gently took Crowley’s hand in his own, “It’s okay my dear... we can discuss everything over dinner and you don’t even have to decide then, we’ll go at your pace and I’ll be sure to communicate properly, as long as you promise to do the same.”

Crowley finally lifted his eyes to look at him and smiled, “okay...” he said quietly, before pausing momentarily and saying, “...you’re paying for dinner right? Because there’s no way I can affor-“

Aziraphale cut him off with a laugh, “Yes dear! Of course I’m paying for dinner.”

Crowley nodded and visibly relaxed, sitting back in his seat. He glanced down at where his hand was still held in Aziraphale’s and slowly took it back, shooting the man an apologetic smile before folding his hands in his own lap.

The restaurant was much more posh than Crowley was used to, but by the way the other 3 acted, and how the staff talked to Gabriel, he assumed they were regulars here, and suddenly felt very out of place.

Aziraphale was in his normal attire of shirt and bow tie, Gabriel had dressed in almost all white, he looked handsome and expensive, and even Bee seemed to fit in, their albeit alternative style still seemed to blend in well to the atmosphere of the room, and Crowley stuck out like a sore thumb.

The four were led to a booth, and Crowley took this opportunity to hide his dishevelled self as far from public view as possible. Aziraphale sat next to him with the couple opposite, and Bee sat back as Gabriel picked up the menu.

“Are you alright if I order for you my bumblebee?” Gabriel asked Bee softly, putting an arm around them. They nodded and picked up the desert menu, before suggesting brownies and ice cream for desert, which Gabe agreed to.

“What would you like Dear?” Aziraphale said, breaking Crowley from staring at the couple ahead of him.

“Uh, whatever’s cheapest is fine, ‘m not picky,” he mumbled, shrinking back into himself.

“Nonsense, there must be something on here that takes your fancy,” Aziraphale proclaimed, leaning over to show Crowley the menu. “Ooh the steak sounds lovely, or even the chicken sounds delightful, I’m going to get some sushi, does anything sound good to you?”

“Mr Fell all I’ve eaten in the past few weeks is packet Mac and Cheese, literally anything sounds good,” Crowley said bluntly, before blushing and looking away.

Aziraphale simply smiled softly and nodded, “How about I pick something for you and you can tell me if you like it or not?”

Crowley looked up at him and nodded, uttering a small ‘sounds good’. Aziraphale grinned, clearly delighted and listed off a few things, all of which Crowley agreed to, although slightly hesitantly. As Aziraphale called over the waitress to place their orders, Bee leaned over the table and plucked Crowley’s sunglasses from his face.

“We’re inside Crowley, table manners,” the scorned playfully, ignoring his protest.

“You say that like you didn’t used to put your feet up on the table when we would go out,” he bit back, though not a hint of aggression was present in his tone. He took his glasses back, but folded them on the table.

Gabe shot Bee a look to which they rolled their eyes at, “I don’t do it anymore,” they mumbled, and the others at the table laughed.

As the table waited for their food to arrive, they discussed Bee and Gabe’s contract, so Crowley would be informed on what sort of thing to expect should he and Aziraphale go ahead with the dynamic.

The food, when it arrived, was delightful, and Crowley enjoyed it thoroughly. He tried not to shovel his food down too quickly, but his rumbling belly tried to convince him to do otherwise. He’d gotten about halfway through his meal when he realised eating so much food after eating very little for so long was probably not the best idea, and the nauseating feeling that accompanied his full stomach made him halt mid fork-full.

“Are you alright dear?” Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley only nodded.

The musician reached for his drink and finished the glass of OJ he’d ordered. He sat back, allowing his food to settle as he wished the nausea to dissipate. He’d never forgive himself if he’d forced a stranger he hardly knew to pay for a large and expensive meal just for him to not finish it. Deciding to distract himself, he initiated conversation.

“So you would pay me for... well sex?” He clarified.

“Yes dear, and other things, like... spending the day awith me, or running errands, attending parties,” Aziraphale said softly, “I’d never make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with of course, but you need the money... and I like the company, its a win-win situation honestly.”

Crowley smiled and nodded, taking a bite of his food now that his stomach had settled slightly. He couldn’t help but hum in delight at the thought of being able to afford somewhere nicer to live, and of course, spending time with a handsome man for more than 2 minutes a day would be a bonus. He shifted his weight slightly and found himself leaning closer to Aziraphale. The other man cautiously rested his hand upon Crowley’s knee, letting out a questioning hum.

“’ Guess it wouldn’t... hurt to try,” Crowley reasoned, mostly with himself, but he didn’t find himself recoiling from the man’s affectionate touch.

“After dinner,” Aziraphale started, “we should head back to mine, and discuss this further, does that sound good?”

Crowley nodded and smiled up at him, “sounds perfect."

As promised, after dinner Aziraphale ordered Crowley and himself an Uber back to his bookshop. They both headed inside and Aziraphale locked the door behind them. He lead the younger man to the couch and offered him some coffee, of which Crowley accepted gratefully. The two sat drinking their beverages and discussing the terms of their newfound agreement.

They came to the conclusion that Crowley would come to his bookshop on his days off from work, and they would spend the day together, whether that be simply keeping Aziraphale company whilst he worked, or making him tea as he read. They agreed that sex would not be a necessity, but neither were opposed to the idea. Aziraphale mentioned during their talk that, at any parties he and Crowley may attend together (as part of work of course), that ‘pda’ may be necessary, but never forced, and Crowley seemed enthusiastic at the idea.

“How do I address you?” Aziraphale said as they drew to the end of the conversation.

“m? Oh, Crowley’s fine, none of that ‘Mr’ bullshit, pet names are cool too I guess, he/him whatever.”

“Well then that works fine my Dear, as for you, I’d rather you called me Aziraphale than ‘Mr Fell’, far too proper for me, and of course any other nicknames you see fit, just not the D word...”

Crowley grinned at that, “What? Daddy?” He laughed when Aziraphale cringed, “Ironic,” he snorted, “I’ll think of something for you.”

“Marvellous.”

The two talked some more, about everything and nothing at the same time. Crowley talked about his plants and Aziraphale listened with a fond smile on his face, in return talking about his books and other hobbies. The two found themselves laughing about god knows what, and soon Crowley was half on top of Aziraphale, the older man’s arm around his waist comfortably.

Crowley giggled, much to his distaste, and curled in closer to Aziraphale until their noses were nearly touching and the only comfortable position for his hands were the man’s chest. He felt Aziraphale squeeze his hip affectionately, the conversation fizzing into silence as they stared at each other, breaths mingling in a dance of pure sexual attraction.

Before either of them could speak, Aziraphale’s hands and slid up Crowley’ shirt, ghosting over his skin in delicate, flittering touches. Crowley’s own hands had founds their ways to Aziraphale’s belt, before they were both crashing their lips together in a frenzied kiss of passion and need.

Crowley quickly moved to unbuckle Aziraphale’s belt, pulling away from the kiss momentarily to focus on what he was doing. He managed to get it open before Aziraphale was stilling his hands, and he froze, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“You don’t have to do that Darling- if you don’t want to...” he said softly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with Crowley, he just didn’t want Crowley to feel pressured after they’d only just discussed their terms, especially after he’d bought him dinner earlier.

“I want to,” Crowley blurted, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed.

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple, before uttering softly, “be my guest then dear boy.”

Crowley grinned and hastily unbuttoned and unzipped Aziraphale’s slacks, the older man lifting his hips so Crowley could pull the trousers down to his ankles. He ran his hands up Aziraphale’s thighs, squeezing the flesh and admiring the sight before him. The musician leant down to press kisses to the man’s thighs, worshipping each as thought they belonged to an angel. He trailed his kisses up as his hands followed suit, toying at the waistband of white briefs that hid a rather large monstrosity he couldn’t wait to get his lips around.

Crowley shuffled down to be kneeling on the floor, accepting the cushion that Aziraphale passed him to settle under his knees. The older man ran a hand through Crowley’s hair and mussed the strands slightly, his pale fingers lost in the sea of red. Crowley delicately pulled Aziraphale from his briefs, marvelling over the weight in his hand. He couldn’t help but stare, but a light encouraging tug at his hair broke him from his awestruck trance in order to slowly kiss up Aziraphale’s hardening dick.

Kissing the tip, Crowley looked up at Aziraphale through his eyelashes and slowly took him in his mouth. He bobbed his head slowly, squeezing Aziraphale’s thighs affectionately. The man above him groaned in pleasure as Crowley worked, Aziraphale tried to keep his hands gentle on the musicians hair, but Crowley would be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of Aziraphale pulling his hair properly. The weight of Aziraphale’s prick was heavy on his tongue, swallowing around it he tried to take him as far as his throat would allow him.

Crowley wouldn’t say he was inexperienced as he would say ‘out of practise’. The last time he had a long term boyfriend was in his earlier 20’s, and he hadn’t really hooked up with many men since his last relationship. Even when he did, the deed was quick, either a hand job or a quick fuck and he was out of there, there was no grace or romance about it, just something to satisfy both parties. His deep throating abilities were hardly what they used to be, but Crowley was certain, especially with a cock as big as Aziraphale’s, he’d build up to it again in time.

He pulled off of Aziraphale and jerked him off slowly, he gently kissed the tip and took him in his mouth once more. Aziraphale was bucking into his mouth as Crowley forced his head down as far as he could, and he gagged slightly as the head hit the back of his throat. Aziraphale tried to utter an apology, but Crowley simply squeezed his thigh in silent assurance that he was fine. He could feel Aziraphale practically melt in his hands as he continued his gentle assault, pre-cum leaking from his tip and staining Crowley’s tongue. The salty taste was almost foreign in his mouth, but he found himself swallowing it down as though he was starving for more.

When Aziraphale reached his climax his grip on Crowley’s hair tightened. He gave no warning as he came down Crowley’s throat, the musician choking momentarily in the process. He pulled off, swallowing and awkwardly wiping his mouth, before laughing softly.

“Warn a guy next time,” he teased.

“Sorry Darling...” Aziraphale mumbled sheepishly, gently petting his now completely messed up hair. He gently pulled Crowley up into his lap and held the man close, putting himself away in the process. Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the aching between his own legs in favour of post-orgasm cuddles.

“How about we get a shower and continue our conversation in bed?” Aziraphale hummed softly, stroking his hair. Crowley simply nodded and allowed Aziraphale to scoop him into his arms and take him to bed.

[kata-sans]

Raising Stripe

Chapter 3

Stripe was beyond pissed. The strange man had left him in a small cage in a strange place. His food bowl had tasteless pellets and the water was not as clean as it was at home. His cage also lacked the toys and hideouts of his regular enclosure. Stripe decided he did not approve of his current space and decided it was time to leave. The strange man had no idea Stripe was an escape artist and had engaged his caretakers many hours of hide and seek.

Escaping the cage was a breeze for Stripe and his new goal became to reach the floor. His enclosure was always on the ground after an unfortunate tumble from a table during one of his escapes. The desk he was currently standing on was definitely not a safe fall so he began to scurry on the surface of the desk.

The desk was a mess of papers and glass containers with colorful liquids. Stripe tried his best to explore his options of escape without disturbing the contents on the desk but the space was limited. In his desperation he carelessly knocked over jars and tubes of unknown liquids. Stripe couldn't avoid being splashed with every tube and flask he knocked over. Finally he noticed a chair he could use to lessen the distance to reach the floor.

As he landed on the floor he shook off the remains of whatever had splashed him. Some of his fur felt sticky so he tried to lick it off with limited success. Oh well, his caretakers can give him a bath later, he thought. His self grooming was interrupted by a ruckus in another room.His instincts drove him to hide under a magazine. He would have remained there but he heard the sound of his blonde caretaker yelling. He followed the sound hoping to be reunited with his caretakers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kenny was no stranger to being punched, but usually he at least knew the reason behind it. “So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Tweek quickly stepped in to stop his husband from continuing his attack. “GAH! CRAIG WE’RE NOT HERE TO FIGHT! Kenny there was a mix up at the clinic. You have our guinea pig and we want him back.” He presented a cage with the possum that was clinging to life.

Kenny rubbed his swelling nose in pain. “Yea sure no problem. Glad we can solve this in a civilized manner,” he added sarcastically.

“WHEEK!”

Everyone turned to see Stripe walking out into view. He wheeked louder as he caught sight of his caretakers.

“STRIPE!” The couple ran to pick up their fur baby. Stripe continued to wheek and chatter at his caretakers, seeming to complain about his experience. Kenny watched from the side amused at the seemingly odd family. Finally reunited the family, made their way towards the exit. Craig in true Tucker fashion flipped Kenny off before shutting the door behind him.

Kenny laughed at the absurdity of the whole experience.He picked up the cage with the dying possum and made his way towards his private room. As he flipped the lights on he cussed at the mess his secret lab was in.

Ch2

Ch4

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 19 - Replica

Length: 2100 words Vore type: M/M oral vore, willing prey Fandom: None Other info: furry robot pred, human prey Summary: There are certain benefits to befriending a mad* scientist Synth. And certain risks, but I'm sure it's fine. *Teq would surely argue that sanity is a meaningless concept to a robot, and therefore it cannot be lost (Synths are an open species created by Vader-San)

Sam blinked his eyes open; he was laying in some sort of cushioned tube, like the ones in Teq's lab. He tapped the glowing "exit" button and sat up, groggy. Around the tube was, well… Teq's lab. The practically second home of his Synth friend, the place was littered with tools, notes, and half-finished contraptions that it swore it had put in "the most efficient places possible." Today, the focus seemed to be around the biggest 3D printer Sam had ever seen, covered in papers with diagrams and measurements all over them.

Teq itself stood over its desk, presumably with even more complicated papers. [Oh, hello again Sam. Did you wake up well?] it asked, turning its head so its visor could "look" at him. Really, with its tail plugged into the wire hanging from the ceiling, Teq had seen Sam through every wall-mounted camera pointed near him, but he appreciated the familiar body language.

"Er, yeah, thanks for the makeshift bed, but I don't remember climbing in."

[Perfectly normal,] it replied, its electronic wink pulsing a mischievous yellow and blue, [seeing as you didn't.]

"Right, yeah, I remember some new scan you wanted to…" a yawn interrupted Sam, and he reached up in a big stretch, one that drew his attention to his outfit.

Or rather, his lack thereof.

"Teq, do you know why I'm naked?"

[Yes.]

Sam sighed. "Care to tell me?"

[Oh, absolutely!]

A few more seconds passed, and another sigh. "This stopped being funny the second time you did it."

The corners of the Synth's mouth pulled back in a grin, filled with its flat, blunt set of metal "teeth." [I wholeheartedly disagree! Buuuut it does wear thin quickly. Your clothes are folded over there,] it pointed towards a bench where, indeed, Sam's clothes sat, [but if everything goes well, you won't need them.]

"Uh-huh." Sam swung his legs out of the tube, grimaced when they touched the frigid floor, and reluctantly sat back down. "But I'll hear you out. What are you up to?"

[I've discovered a method to fork humans!] Teq said, its lights flashing like glittering gold. [Sinera contributed the magic part, since I am incapable of thaumic conductivity. Perhaps another day I will attempt to optimize away the safeguards she applied, but that requires many more tests.]

Sam rolled his eyes, smiling. "Is this leading up to a "I can't fork you if you're not naked" joke?"

Teq simply stuck out its metal, segmented tongue; Sam noticed that it was wetter than the Synth usually kept it. It crossed its arms and huffed, [well, not if you're going to take it away from me. I would like one more trial, however, before introducing a variable in participant.]

"Okay, so… forking is your "I'm being a funny computer" way of saying cloning, right? How many Sams are there running around right now?"

[One, if you count yourself.]

"Oh, so you failed, but you want to try again?"

Teq shook its head. [Every single trial has passed! It just… turns out having more than one active at a time causes problems. I won't elaborate.]

A sense of dread grew in Sam's chest. "So… so what happened to the others?"

[I ate them,] the Synth said simply, [accidentally scanning your browser history gave me a great idea, really, that reduces the net energy cost per test!]

"Am I-" Sam's breath caught in his throat, "- am I next?" He rose into a crouch, as though thinking he could run in a facility where the robot dragon controlled every machine and the doors.

[Ideally, yes, but you know how I am about consent forms for research participation.] Teq grabbed a few sheets of paper and flipped through them, likely more for dramatic effect than actually recalling information. [I was hoping for a nice, round 16, but if you would rather not, I can simply attempt to court a new subject. I'll keep you in the loop, of course.]

Sam shook his head and climbed out, gritting his teeth at the cold against his feet, and the distinct lack of anything keeping his body heat in. "Well, I'm glad to hear I can avoid you killing me by just telling you not to." He shivered. "Fuck, it's chilly in here."

[I have been keeping my internal spatial storage at 30 degrees Celsius,] the Synth offered, pointing one finger helpfully into its mouth, [and the path from intake to storage is of a similar temperature.]

Trying to keep his teeth from chattering, Sam stepped towards his clothes. "Is that supposed to convince me to let you eat me?"

[It was a convincing argument three times, though putting your clothes in your line of sight seems to have disrupted this trend.]

The man stopped and turned. "Three times? Wouldn't I remember?"

Teq stepped closer, but remained at a short distance. [Moreso than I anticipated, which is an annoyingly convincing argument towards the existence of souls - I might be out a few hundred bucks. But still, scarcely more than the character in that game you played last night remembered if you asked hir to use hir tail, penis, or mouth to eat your character.]

Sam nearly jumped with shock, but his blush meant his face, at least, didn't feel cold. "H-how did you-"

[Fifth trial, you used it as an analogy to your situation while sitting inside me.] It winked at him, the dotted oval briefly changing into a lit-up caret. [However, I only possess a mouth. Perhaps for later experiments or leisure…]

Sam crossed his arms, and walked up to it. "Fifteen times?" Teq nodded. "You're not telling me a lower number to trick me into agreeing to more?"

[Nor am I lying with a higher number to imply a greater confidence of success,] it agreed. [I chose this method of… duplicate prevention to increase the odds of your cooperation and to avoid a mess. I supect I will use its appeal to attract a new test subject after one final successful run.]

An uneasy look crossed the man's face. "I… hadn't thought of the "higher number" thing until you brought it up." He sighed, and looked at Teq's draconic face. "Please be honest again: did I enjoy being swallowed and, uh… whatever you did to me?"

[Yes, unless you lied to me about it. I did not see utility in attempting to discern that.] It looked away with its hand on its chin, as though thinking. [With the exception of an unfortunately uncomfortable entrance. If you decide to go one more time, I will eat you feet-first to prevent this.]

"…alright. Load up that consent doc, Teq."

[Thank you~!] it replied, with a small jingle. Its facial display showed a text document, and its upturned eyes soon faded from view. [You know the deal, read carefully, button at the bottom. Basically the same thing you've done for other experiments, just with a different procedure name.]

"Yeah, yeah…" Sam muttered, flicking his finger along the display. Text scrolled by far too fast to read, but at least it didn't take long to reach the indicated button. One tap later, and the document vanished, soon replaced by Teq's familiar eyes. "Okay, so now do I- gah!"

There was a clicking noise as Teq extended its tail, curled it behind Sam's legs and back, and then gently pushed the man back onto it. Sam immediately stiffened, anticipating a similar chill, but whatever Teq had done to keep its insides heated had somewhat extended to its tail - while definitely not warm by any measure, it was… better than room temperature. He was jolted out of his thoughts by a much greater heat around his feet and ankles. Looking down, Sam was greeted by the view of his synthetic friend's head by his knees, and the inside of its mouth visible in small gaps.

[Are you okay?] Teq asked. It took Sam a second to remember that, although the Synth usually moved its mouth while talking, it technically just used speakers. He nodded, and Teq's tail smoothly drifted closer, feeding more of his legs into the warm faux-throat. Once most of his thighs were gone, a quiet whirring accompanied a new sensation: like a massage chair, rolling pressure constantly pushed at his legs from all sides, coaxing him down.

When the heat of Teq's mouth and throat washed over his upper thighs and exposed balls, Sam flushed red and quickly covered himself with his hands. The Synth's eyes - and even its display background - tinted pink, and, teasing him, it remarked, [I guess I should ignore that rather than… encouraging you. Good to see you continue to enjoy this.] Its tail pushed him forward, and its throat changed from a gentle pull to more of a controlled slide.

With everything below his chest fully inside Teq's gullet or deeper, Sam realized he could kick around a little, and that it felt like paddling through a thick liquid. Teq offered no time to think about what that meant - not that Sam needed much - and the man soon found his world dark as the Synth shut its mouth past his head, while the bottom of its "stomach" soon forced his legs to curl up. Moments later, all of him was sitting in the strange, dark hot tub, with luckily enough room to keep his head above the liquid.

[How was it?]

"Very… relaxing," Sam decided, "although, I think I expected more of a swallowing motion than the constant slide."

[Interesting… I will keep that in mind when we do this in the future, assuming further successful tests.]

"When, not if?" He laughed, and tried to pat Teq's insides, but found that the liquid seemed thicker, and harder to move through. "Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

[I have a measured 100% success rate at talking you down my throat,] it pointed out, [and with a similar frequency of arousal, I expect you to ask it of me, especially once the process is further refined. Plus, you may want better footage than security camera video.]

"…fair enough. I definitely want a copy of those."

[And you'll have it. Goodbye now, Sam. I'll see an earlier you in a few minutes.]

The man didn't get the chance to think about what that meant.

--

Sam blinked his eyes open; he was laying in some sort of cushioned tube, like the ones in Teq's lab. He tapped the glowing "exit" button and sat up, groggy. Around the tube was, well… Teq's lab. The practically second home of his Synth friend, the place was littered with tools, notes, and half-finished contraptions that it swore it had put in "the most efficient places possible." Today, the focus seemed to be around the biggest 3D printer Sam had ever seen, covered in papers with diagrams and measurements all over them.

Teq itself stood over its desk, presumably with even more complicated papers. [Oh, hello again Sam. Did you wake up well?] it asked, turning its head so its visor could "look" at him. Really, with its tail plugged into the wire hanging from the ceiling, Teq had seen Sam through every wall-mounted camera pointed near him, but he appreciated the familiar body language.

"Er, yeah, thanks for the makeshift bed, but I don't remember climbing in."

[Perfectly normal,] it replied, its electronic wink pulsing a mischievous yellow and blue, [seeing as you didn't.]

"Right, yeah, I remember some new scan you wanted to…" a yawn interrupted Sam, and he reached up in a big stretch, one that drew his attention to his outfit.

Or rather, his lack thereof.

"Teq, do you know why I'm naked?"

[Synthesizing clothes around a body would have posed an unnecessary challenge and risk.] It turned, walked over, and offered a hand out of the tube. [Say, do you know anyone else who would want to be eaten by a Synth? For once, some external bias in selection would be welcome.]

Sam took the hand and cringed at the chill of the floor; helpfully, Teq pointed him to a pile of his clothes on a nearby bench. "I… maybe? Wait, what do you mean anyone ELSE?" he asked while putting on some protection from the lab's temperature.

The yellow and blue smiling eyes returned as Teq handed him a USB stick. "I could tell you directly, but I think it will be much more fun for you to find out looking through these files."

[socialoutsiderwritings]

To mend and break 8

Tony Stark made sure to keep his kids out of the limelight when he was granted custody of them after their mother’s death. The world knew very little of the Stark twins and Tony wanted to keep it that way. For the most part they knew one was a genius and the other was daddy’s spoiled princess. But when Tony starts acting out of control , the twins are thrown in the middle of the crossfire , allowing the world to really see them. They now have to make a choice that will change their lives forever.

Pairings: Tony Stark x (FAB21+)Daughter!Reader x Son!OC

Unknown Location

Your hands gripped at the arm rests. Your eyes were open but you couldn't see a thing; your eyes were covered with something. And although you could not see anything around you, you had this strange feeling like you've been here before.

There was a variety of machines beeping around you; but you were almost positive you were not in a hospital. You could also hear people walking around you but they hardly said a word. Then a cold chill ran up your spine as a set of heavy doors opened somewhere around you.

The people around you all greeted whoever had entered, but you didn't recognize what language they were speaking. Her heels, you assumed was a woman, clicked across the floor as they approached you. The hairs on your arms stood up when she sat beside you; like your body just knew where she was even though you couldn't see them.

A woman's voice called your name. But it wasn't your name. Not what you were called here on Earth. You felt her hand on your forehead, then she caressed over your hair and down to your shoulder, where she rested her hand.

Tears streamed down your face. You only knew they had, because she had reached over and wiped it away. Then she spoke again. Even though she was speaking a foreign language you still somehow understood what she was saying. You began to sob.

Then you felt something get placed around your head. She grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You're our only hope." She said.

****

You gasped, suddenly choking on something. You brought your hands up and pulled out the tube that was shoved down your throat.

"Agents! I need assistance in here!" Someone yelled. They rushed over to you, attempting to restrain your hands as you pulled at the IVs shoved in your skin. "Miss Stark. Please clam down."

Still unaware of what was going around you or to you, you shoved the person back. Instead they didn't get pushed back by you; they got blasted back. You stared at your own hands in shock.

You looked around the room. A hospital room. But you were different; you felt different. Maybe it wasn't a hospital.

Were you kidnapped? What happened after Ivan Vanko? Where was he?

So many questions raced through your head. Wherever you were, you needed to get out. You needed to escape.

You made sure you weren't connected to anything anymore before running out of the room. As you abruptly exit your hospital room, the staff in the hallways looked to you, startled. One of the nurses behind the desks, held a phone up to her ear, and then over the speakers announced..

"Security. Hospital wing. We have a runner."

Your body processed the words faster than your mind did and you sprinted off down the hall. You had no idea where you were going but you ran. Until you were stopped by a group of men, inside an elevator with their guns pointed at you.

Assuming they were going to shoot at you right away, you held your hands up to shield yourself. And again, a blast released itself from your hands, causing the men to dodge out of the way. You stared down at your palms.

"All units, she is armed." You heard them yell.

You walked back slowly, stunned by what you had done. You ran back down the hall and frantically began looking for another exit. They stopped you at every corner, until finally they had you in a corner. You looked at the wall, panicked.

"Miss Stark." You recognized Rumlow's voice right away. You turned around and saw him standing just at the end of the hall with his hands and weapon up in the air. "I'm not going to hurt you alright." He tells you. "I'm walking towards her, hold your fire." He tells his men.

"Stop." You tell him, holding your hand out hoping to blast them all away. But nothing happened. "Stop right there!" You yelled again this time pushing your hand out but again nothing happened.

"What did you do to me? Where the hell am I?"

"I'm not here to hurt you." he tells you as he walks closer. "Just come with me." he says calmly. "I promise, I'll make sure you're safe." He's now a couple feet away from you, and stays there.

You look at him and back at the the group of armed men. You didn't trust him. He could be lying. But somehow, you just knew, right now, he wasn’t lying.

You stared at Brock. You inhaled a breath and nodded. You took one step forward and suddenly...

"Shots fired!"

"No!" Rumlow yelled at the same time he lunged at you.

A series of bullets rang through the air. Your hands were up and your back hit the hard cold floor. You laid there silently. Rumlow looked down at you. You stared at him with just as much confusion. As he got to his feet, you sat up.

The bullets were frozen in mid air. Everyone stared in shock. Rumlow approached the frozen bullets, then looked back at you. Realizing your hands were still up, you dropped them; at the same time the bullets fell to the floor with a series of clinks.

Your name is called out as your brother pushes through the group of men. He's in front of you, holding your shoulders and examining your person. "Are you hurt?" He asks you as he examines your person. When he didn’t see any injuries on you, he whipped his head around and stared at the other men. “Who the hell fired?” He asked.

The men stared at one another, until one of them stepped forward and confessed. Anthony left your side to approach the man.

“You alright?” Brock asks you. You turn your head to face as he walks into your view.

You nod. You were still a little bit shaken up, but now that your brother was here you weren’t as frightened. “Where am I?” You asked, though you were certain now where you could have been.

“SHIELD HQ.” Fury announced as he made his way through the agents. He stopped just beside your brother, “we need to talk.” He tells you. “Now.”

——————————⎊——————————

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Unfortunately for you, they couldn’t provide you with your own clothing. All they could offer was a pair of SHIELD sweatpants and T-shirt. Before you put them on, you examined your body. The tiny punctures on your skin from the IVs were healed. If they did something to you, you wouldn’t know.

You took a closer look at your reflection. There was something different about you, but you weren’t sure what. You looked closer, your hand coming up to trace your neck.

Your necklace was missing. The necklace you had since you were a baby was no longer on you.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and them your brother’s voice came from the other side of the door. “You can’t hide in there forever.” He told you.

You slipped on the clothes and walked over to the door to open it, angrily. “I could have.”

***

Your dad was already on his feet when you entered the giant office. He noticed you walk in after your brother and let out a sigh of relief. He walked over to you, meeting you halfway, and embraced you in a tight hug.

You were nervous at first, but as soon as you felt his arms around you, you relaxed. He kissed your temple and hugged you tighter.

After a moment you finally let go. “What are we doing here?”

“Let’s find out.” The two of you walked over to the furniture in the middle of the room to sit.

Anthony and Fury sat across from you and your dad. Your brother handed each of you a thin manila folder with a giant classified stamped over it. Your dad grabbed it first and opened it.

"Somethings happened to you." Your brother tells you. "We have no idea what exactly. And given what happened out there, it seems to have altered something in you."

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You were suddenly nervous.

Tony slapped the manila folder on the coffee table. "No." he stated.

"What? No what?" You asked. You grabbed the manila folder and opened to see what had gotten him so upset. It was a consent form.

"We need to run tests." He told you but you had already read through the whole thing. "We just need your permission to--,"

"Use me as a lab rat?" You asked him. You weren't angry, not yet. "You said we."

"Yeah. As in SHIELD." He awkwardly looks back at Fury. "I work for SHIELD. Have been for a while."

You sat back in the chair, and exhaled a huff of disbelief. "You do realize what they're asking of me right?"

"It's not them." He admits. "It's me. This is my idea. This is how I can help you."

"Bull. Shit." You enunciate. "You never brought this up before.."

"You didn't shoot energy blasts from your hands before." He tells you. There was a short moment of silence. "I know you're scared, but i'm going to be with you."

"That's so comforting." You rolled your eyes. "Thanks but no thanks." You placed the folder back on the coffee table. "Can I go now?"

Fury bulged his eye at you. "I can't just let you walk out of here." He tells you. "Do you know how many of my men you put in the hospital wing earlier? And you think I'm just going to let you go home?"

"They were pointing their guns at me." You defended yourself. "And I didn't know that was going to happen. It was an accident."

"Which makes you a danger to yourself and to those around you." He sat closer to the edge of the couch and leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees. "The consent was just a formality. Because i'm nice like that." He says.

"I am not obligated to get your consent. If I see you as a threat, I have every right to figure out ways to neutralize that threat. Are you a threat?" He asked expectantly.

You looked at your brother. He glanced down at the manila folder on the table, making it clear what he wanted you to do. You turned your head to look at your dad. He had his hand over his mouth and his sunglasses on, but he was facing in the direction of your brother. His silence was not comforting or even helpful.

You sighed. "No." You finally answered Fury. You opened the manila folder again. You grabbed the pen from your brother and signed your name on the line.

——————————⎊——————————

You didn't react when the needle pierced your skin.

Anthony glanced up at you. He attached a collection tube to the vacutainer. "What should I apologize first, huh?" He asks you. He waits a short moment but you don't answer. "Silent treatment. Real mature, Y/N." He rolls his eyes.

He removes the tube and attaches a new one. "Just so you know I asked to oversee this operation." He tells you. "I figured it'd be better. I know you trust me."

"Oh," you drawled, "my hero." You spat. "That doesn't make any of this better. I always thought you'd be above this."

"Above what?" He was annoyed now, but he kept his tone neutral.

You shook your head at him. "Forget it. Just finish up so I can go home."

“You brought it up. Tell me.” He pushes. “Above what?”

“Human testing.” You replied. “You don’t know what they could do to me. Or with my blood. This could end up horrible. Like what happened with dad’s weapons.”

"It won’t. I promise." He tells you. He attaches another tube. "This is the last one."

"One more thing. You can't control whatever happened to you. We can't risk you having another 'accident'." He removes the tube and slides the needle out of your skin. "We're sending you to a safe house."

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Yes. It was." he tells you. He peels the gloves off his hands and tosses them in the garbage under the counter. "You just didn't read it all the way through. Until we figure out whats going on with you, you're subjected to isolation." He turns his back to you as he inverts the tube samples that he had laid on top of the counter.

"I know you think this is unfair. But this is the best deal you're going to get. You're lucky they didn't throw you in jail--" he turned to face you. He stumbled back, tripping over his feet and falling to the floor.

He blinked a couple times, processing what just happened. Gradually he began to feel a sharp pain in the center of his face. He brings his hands up to feel his nose and winces at the soft touch. He pulls his hand back and notices blood on the tips of his fingers. "Did you just punch me?"

"I did." You rub your knuckles. "And it felt great."

You leave him on the floor as you exit the room. Rumlow was in hallway with a few other men. You figured they were waiting for you, and walked up to Rumlow.

"Miss Stark." He greeted you. "We're escorting you to the safe house. We can head out whenever you're ready, if you want to say your goodbyes...."

"No." You cut him off. "I'm ready to go."

[whumpster-fire]

Well apparently I'm back in the FNAF fandom now, so here are some headcanons about my favorite pathetic, skrunkly, strangely adorable engineering disaster, Mangle. From, like, an AU where the restaurant stays open for longer than a month and the animatronics are a bit less hostile / not possessed, just machines with horribly overengineered AI.

I'm sorry I know toddlers are comically destructive, but I do not buy Mangle actually being dismembered by them. Breaking down repeatedly / being damaged by slips and falls / having suit pieces fail or fall off, sure, but I don't think a machine that can easily overpower and kill an adult human would get its limbs torn off by a bunch of rowdy kids. I think "take apart / put together attraction" has got to be an inside joke and Mangle's current state is a result of being attacked by something much stronger than a child: either a disgruntled employee who was sick of wasting so much time trying to fix the same unreliable piece of junk, or one or more of the other animatronics.

Also someone or something clearly keeps repairing her. Either it's some chucklehead mechanic with too much spare time who's trying to see how many extra / mismatched limbs they can add before management does something about it or something non-human that has a vague idea of how to attach parts to each other in a "functional" way but has no idea what shape a Toy Foxy endoskeleton is supposed to be.

Despite this Mangle's level of activity varies a lot from night to night and week to week depending on whether she has enough working actuators and sensors to do more than flop around. She can't really stand and walk around in the tripedal pose she's normally depicted in most of the time because it's rare for at least one hip/knee/ankle joint to not be unpowered, jammed, or have position/force sensors out. Also having three legs splayed out like that makes balancing her long neck/arms easier but it's basically a stress position and uses too much energy to maintain for very long.

The restaurant has exposed steel roof trusses like a warehouse which is how Mangle moves around on the ceiling. She's learned to hook her various exposed parts onto the trusses to hang there without using effort. Management are not thrilled about this because she keeps breaking overhead lights, ceiling fans, exit signs, and stuff like that.

Freddy's has a big plastic tube climbing structure, I don't care if it's not in the games come on it should be like Chuck E Cheese. The outside of the structure has scrapes and gouges because Mangle likes climbing it to get to the trusses. She sometimes hides inside it too because the other animatronics either can't fit or don't have good enough motion control to crawl through tight spaces with a height difference, so it's a good place to avoid everyone.

The ceiling also has a series of rails to let the prize puppet navigate the restaurant. Half of these are bent or otherwise messed up from having an animatronic that is way heavier than the puppet trying to hang from them.

Mangle gets stuck on the ceiling at least once a week and it's so pathetic every time, like a cat getting its claws hooked on a curtain. Usually this is another annoyance for the opening shift / actually a safety hazard because even if her motors are locked out after 6 AM, getting on a stepladder and trying to dislodge a heavy, awkward bundle of exposed edges and pinch points is playing OSHA Violation Bingo. Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

She's gotten stuck in the security office twice. The first time, the guard was driven insane by having to listen to four hours of uninterrupted static / having an animatronic that could kill him in the office for most of the night, and he quit as soon as his shift was over. Jeremy stood up on his desk with the Freddy mask on and carefully dislodged the part that was stuck. He also noticed that Mangle was panicking about being trapped with important wires about to be yanked out, and handled the situation like he was untangling a panicking 300 lb mechanical cat from a curtain.

The end result of this was Mangle falling from the ceiling and yanking the Freddy mask off by accident. However, the facial recognition bug that affects the other toy animatronics isn't a thing with Mangle because ironically her visual processing has ended up better than what the toy animatronics were originally programmed with because of how much she's had to adjust to having working eyes in two independently moving heads / having eyes frequently fail / having her head be sideways or upside down most of the time. Jeremy is now one of the only people she trusts and she frequently hangs out in his office.

An unforeseen result of this is that one time the puppet tried to jump Jeremy and got clotheslined right off its strings.

Toy Foxy was actually designed to have easily interchangeable parts. The idea was that they could switch between giving her a normal hand, a hook, or a hand puppet with a second endoskeleton head. At this point Mangle contains parts of all her swappable arms, as well as random spares and parts that were supposed to be spares for the old model animatronics.

Related Tangent: Foxy's hook is supposed to be rubber because not even Fazbear Entertainment is dumb enough to give a children's entertainment robot a sharp metal weapon. However a metal hook was made for him, because they decided to advertise Foxy's debut with a commercial where they filmed him doing some sort of pirate stunt like swinging from a ship's rigging. This naturally was never supposed to be installed in the actual restaurant. In the time of FNAF 1 it somehow got put on him but the staff who saw the empty box in the parts room thought it got thrown out and didn't check if it was on the actual animatronic. Nobody noticed except some unfortunate night guards. In the time of FNAF 2 however, Foxy's horrifying steel meat hook wound up on Mangle for several days, until she got it impaled through the side of an air duct and was trapped there for the rest of the night. Nobody knows how it got attached to her but the working theory is some kid got into the parts and services room when no one was looking.

Months later, there's still tape over the hole in the duct.

Jeremy got management to finally fix Mangle's speakers because six hours of static is still annoying as hell. He has now discovered that she does not have enough preprogrammed jokes, stories, and sea shanties to last a whole shift, so he's started bringing in books and cassette tapes to expand her repertoire.

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Odd Ones In" Episode Followup, Part 1

May the days of the whiteness of the Big O's desk be forever remembered in favor of this thing that flashbanged me and made me nearly drop my glasses.

No, guys, seriously. I am looking at this thing. It is floating. Why is it floating.

But enough whining. It's October 1st and that means Odd Squad UK has officially premiered! With it, we get a bunch of episodes that have been graciously pulled by a friend, @personinthepalace. Many thanks goes to them! (And all the work they've had to do throwing them up in other places where YouTube failed.)

For those unfamiliar with how these work, it's pretty standard: I watch the episode, plop screenshots into this post, and react accordingly in text form. Sadly, until I can get a new laptop and some privacy, Seren Reacts videos will be on hold.

So join me below the break for screaming, crying, and much, much asking of "did I hear that right", "what did they say?" and "hi doctor, I might need hearing aids".

(This will also be Part 1, due to Tumblr's 30-photo limit. I can amass as much as 50-120 screenshots for a single episode, so this will be broken into many parts. To find them all, peruse the #seren's studies tag!)

(Oh, and spoilers. Don't read this, or any of the other parts, unless you've seen the episode in full.)

With huge props to those who guessed Captain O would be doing the intro, in line with how Oprah used to do it in the past in order to not spoil new characters.

It's funny because from what I've seen, Captain O goes out onto the field a lot more and doesn't just play the role of Ms. Exposition. I like that change!

I'm...well...okay, maybe this doesn't surprise me given how Ozzie was literally in the first promo picture...but sure. Fine. I dig it.

Osgood has his own cookbook, and quite frankly, I'm just mad they didn't give Oksana one. You're telling me the girl cuts food with diamonds and she doesn't have her own cookbook? Piss off the roof and pray it rains.

"I'm in charge of an organization of kids like these...but...not these..."

OH MY GYAHD THEY BROUGHT BACK THE BIT FROM SEASON 3 ONLY IT'S LESS SPECIAL NOW.

Look, I was there when people went nuts over Oprah bringing all six main characters (at the time) back for a cameo in the intro. I went nuts. It was beautiful!

This just doesn't hit the same. It tried to aim for my heart and instead got me in the nose.

...I still laughed, though.

Most of the stuff in here is taken from the trailer, but there is some new stuff here too, like Captain O giving a big "fuck you" to what I have to assume is a construction worker seeking help on a nearby project.

...Look, I'm a dumb lil' American. You are bound to get fed misinformation up the wazoo. I am bound to not use Google because I am allowed not to and also I am lazy and tired. Don't ask me how shit works.

Ah yes, I see that, in addition to upgrading the special effects used for exiting the tubes, they also upgraded the special effects and animation used for riding the tubes themselves.

Once again, I will point to "Down the Tubes" for a comparison and ask you which one looks better to you. My vote is down easy.

This is a wooden ship and they have couch cushions.

WE ARE NOT ON A LUXURY PRINCESS CRUISE THIS IS A CAPITAL SIN PREPARE FOR DESTRUC-

My God, it's like they saw Season 3, saw people hated it, and upped the ante more than if literally anyone else sane bought Twitter from Elon.

The fact that I could probably tell you what episodes these bits all came from is terrifying. Terrifying still, I'd only get half wrong.

*deep inhale*

Two things: who thought this was a good idea, AND WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT HAVING AN OFFICE BEHIND A WATERFALL WAS A GOOD IDEA.

Caves behind waterfalls are where villains run off to. Where treasure is buried. It's not- oh my God...oh...my God.

Okay, legally, you can't have finger guns in the UK, so Captain O is committing a crime AND GET YOUR KEYS AWAY FROM MY CAR THAT I SPENT THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS FIXING UP IT IS A JOKE. A JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

From a height angle, this is as jarring as Omar and Oneta up against Maine Mr. O.

Back then, when there was the followup for "The Void",there was a joke that he could probably be their little sibling. Like, little little. Like "generation gap" little.

The latter most certainly holds true here.

OH THANK GOD THEY DIDN'T BRITISH-FY THE LOGO. THANK YOU JESUS. BAD ENOUGH I GOT FLASHBANGED ONCE YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN AGAIN?????

But also, rest in pieces to the creator credits appearing here. Usually that only happens when the creators have done some egregious thing and episodes are edited to remove their name in most capacities. (And I'm staring The Loud House down with the fury of a thousand suns. You are better off not knowing.)

Here...Tim and Adam have done nothing egregious, but it's still jarring to not see their names up here. They're not showrunners, but give the men some credit, damn it!

I gotta say, one second in and I'm already digging this episode. Most Precure episodes I watch don't even get that far enough in to make me say "wow!"

But oh man is this Tube Lobby crazy retro. I mean if the film reels back there didn't give it away...

And your writer for this episode! Mark is basically a pioneer within the franchise, having written some fantastic episodes that, if I listed them all, would derail the entire followup. He's got strong writing chops and I can't wait to see what he does with this one. Basically, if you see his name pop up, you know shit's gonna be real good.

And your...ah...producer. I don't think we've ever seen a producer credit on here before. The name's not familiar, so I'll assume she's one of the British staff and hope she can work her magic better than 70% of Season 3's writers.

Not even past the first ten seconds yet and already I've spotted my first criticism: the audio balancing.

I went into the gadget competition video thinking it would be fixed. Much to my dismay, it has not, and that means my eardrum hairs will have to suffer for a good 22 minutes.

...

Scratch that and make it 12 episodes' worth.

To my body, I am so sorry in advance.

And your director for this episode. This guy had an interview regarding references in Odd Squad UK that I unfortunately never found, even after asking about it and spreading the word around. Quite a shame, but now that the show's here, I can go play Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon: Delusion Edition and cry profusely.

Honestly, as much as I want to be a sour realist and say that no one is this excited walking into work...I'm more focused on the planet/glowing Perplexus maze ball/good God what is that Seymour.

The guy has his own cheer team waiting for him when he comes into the bullpen, and either this is some weird-ass Department of Help perk or this is the happiest Odd Squad precinct I have ever seen in 10 years.

See, Otto was a happy guy. Olympia was a happy gal. Omar was a happy guy. Where are their cheerleading teams, hehh?? Where are their teams?!

*spits out Pepsi at such an insanely fast speed it beats Comcast by ten thousand miles*

THEY HAVE AN AGENT WITH DOWN SYNDROME?!?!?!

IT TOOK THEM

10 YEARS

TO HAVE AN AGENT

WITH DOWN SYNDROME?!?!?!?!?!

...Okay look, I had a friend with cerebral palsy and from watching this bit repeatedly I don't think this agent has it...

BUT THEY PUT IN AN AGENT WITH DOWN SYNDROME ALL THE SAME AWWWWWWWWWW HNNNNNNNNNNGH MY HEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHT

I'm not even mad they did that before a canonically autistic agent. I'm not mad. I'm not mad it exists. I'm not mad they could have done this 10 years ago and given a raspberry and a "fuck you" to all the ableist critics. How the fuck do you expect my ass to get mad at this? I'm not fucking barbaric, sweet Jesus Christ.

Only a minute in and this is by far one of the best things of the episode, right here. I can't gush about this enough. You ask me why I love this franchise, and this is one of the reasons.

"I work in the Department of Help. It's my job."

Thank you, Ozzie, but I didn't spend a year waiting to get slammed face-first with exposition. I could teach a college class on this entire show/season at what was my dream college before nu monies crushed that.

Just to note: the last time we ever saw a PA system used by a Director was -- and correct me if I'm wrong -- Oprah in "The Jackies", a good 10 years ago.

The fact it's become a mainstay for Captain O and her precinct is a lovely bit of continuity, if unintentional.

I remember seeing part of this set a long time ago in a BTS photo. Nice to see another angle of it!

I like the seafaring stuff in here too. Scuba helmet, what looks to be maps of islands, a telescope...the only funny thing is that Ozzie staring down Captain O here is the equivalent of Otis staring down Orson aaaaaaaaand I can't get that out of my head now. Beautiful. Thank you.

As if the Oona image Easter egg wasn't enough, they have to go and reference toast again?

I'm not even mad, this literal humor is on-brand and hilarious, but this being the 10th anniversary series, it's funny they choose to reference this and not Sheila.

...Or maybe they will reference Sheila later. She does have that Bizarre Brigade show...

It's probably unintentional on Alexander Shaw's part, but this line here sounds so artificial it's like maybe, just maybe, he has something to do with it.

...

MA GET MY TINFOIL HAT I'M GOIN' OUTSIDE-

"I'll be brief: I have no idea why all this is happening."

Very few kids shows can sell a character to me and make me slam my wallet chock-full of bills down on a single line, but Odd Squad UK did it with Onom and I have no regrets.

Is...hold on, is this is a whole-ass meeting Captain O's having in here? It's not just Ozzie, Onom and Orwell?

Either I'm trippin' like hell or this is the live-action equivalent of needing background characters to fill up spaces in a scene.

And just like that, 13 chances for name-drops of past "living legend" agents were shot with bullets going into all the crucial arteries in the bodies.

How does he know about Orli? Who the fuck knows! He's got a better chance of knowing about the 13 "living legend" agents in question than some girl working behind a goddamn waterfall!!

You ever watch Adult Swim and it cuts right from the show to an ident scene?

That's what this is. Only there's no ident, it's mid-episode, and it's so sudden that it's like half of the ASMR memes on the Internet that jumpscare you.

(On to Part 2!)

[yellowlikelemons]

Me and Mommy spent a day out today! We took the tube into the city after a lovely, home-made breakfast, where she'd made golden-brown buns. (Local mommy spoils pup, more at 7!) Pride is a little late in our country, so our outing was to the festival near her place. We started off with a quick look around and some gelato, then promptly headed to the 18+ quarter of the party. People were hanging out in costumes, full fursuits, and all manners of kink-gear. Several tents sold collars and floggers. One place was doing drop-in piercings and tattoos, which we both took an interest in. Bravely, Mommy decided on a black, spikey piece of jewlery through her eyebrow. I didn't have enough cash, but cheered on from outside. Once she'd gotten her cool new piercing we looked through the salesplaces, all with beautiful handiwork. I thought about buying a ruffley, purple collar I saw, thinking I might match Mommys hair in it, but settled on the idea of purchasing a tool instead - I already have a cute new collar. The new tool we picked was one of the thicker sticks/canes, which I'm holding in the above picture.

After some food and another purchase (guess what that might be) we went back home. I'd worn my collar inside the adult part of the park, but taken it off just before exiting. Mommy put it back on me almost as soon as we came home, then leashed me into the corner of her room. After a few minutes she brought me into the bathroom, pulling off my clothes as the tub filled with warm water. She dimmed the lights and lit candles, floated a fizzy bath bomb next to me as I got into the water. Everything smelled lovely, even the citrus-scent soap she brought up to wash me with gently. (I was super kind and good and obedient and only splashed her in the face once. As revenge. For being splashed first.) She patted me down softly with a towel once I was clean, then pushed my head trough a fresh T-shirt. I kissed her many times and we clung to eachother as we went to bed together, where we are now. I think you all should tell her she is the best.

[ghostsofbefore]

Strange Childhood Memories

Last night, while I was lying down, I found myself reflecting on my childhood experiences. I’ve always been fascinated by liminal spaces because they remind me of how I used to perceive the world as a child—or at least how my memories now portray it. I understand that childhood memories are rarely accurate, especially when trauma is involved, but it’s still interesting to look back on them.

I remember one particular incident where I’m pretty sure I breathed underwater. It happened at a pool in an apartment complex where a family member used to live. It was me, my two siblings, my mother, and my uncle. I don’t recall exactly how old I was—probably between 6 and 8 years old—and I was learning to swim without my life jacket. I took it off and held onto the pool’s edge as I made my way around. When I reached the deep end, I let go of the wall and dove underwater. By the time I reached the bottom, I was out of breath and tried to swim back up, but I accidentally inhaled water before I reached the surface.

To my surprise, it didn’t feel like I was drowning. It felt no different than breathing air. I stayed underwater, feeling like I had just discovered a superpower. I swam back to the bottom of the pool and tried to sit down on the pool floor. Eventually, my uncle swam over and pulled me out of the water, worried that I was drowning. I told him I was fine. I didn’t cough up water, didn’t feel out of breath—I felt perfectly normal. I then proudly announced to everyone that I could breathe underwater. But when I tried to prove it again, I couldn’t, and I ended up coughing and spitting up water. The adults laughed it off, attributing it to my imagination, but I swear I remember that moment so vividly.

Thinking back now, maybe I really was drowning. Maybe my brain fabricated that memory to protect me. Or perhaps it was just a dream. Who knows? All I know is that it doesn’t feel any different from my other memories, and I think about it often. I even found out on Reddit that many others had similar experiences as children. No one’s ever figured out why, and maybe it’s better as a mystery. It leaves a tiny chance that it was more than just a dream, and I think that’s pretty cool.

Another strange childhood memory involves a McDonald’s play place. I was around the same age, about 8 years old. My mother took me and my two siblings to McDonald’s. Like any kid would, we immediately headed for the play place while my mom ordered the food. We decided to play hide and seek. My sister was “it,” and I zipped through the labyrinth of colorful plastic tubes and slides, trying to find a good hiding spot. I walked through an area with big padded cylinders hanging from chains and sat in the middle of them, listening quietly for my sister’s footsteps. It didn’t take long before I heard her approaching. As she got closer, I inched my way to the other side of the platform, careful not to hit any of the padded cylinders, as their movement would give away my position.

I kept crawling until I came across an enclosed slide on the other side. I was hesitant to go down—it would be loud, and my goal was to stay unnoticed. But there was something else off about it. The slide didn’t have the dim, colorful glow of the others; it was very dark inside. It also seemed to be positioned in a way that made no sense, as if you’d slide right into a wall and get stuck inside the tube. Either that, or it dropped straight down, which, being at the top of the play place, didn’t seem like a good idea.

But when my sister entered the padded cylinder platform, I decided that whatever was at the end of the slide was worth not losing the game. So I dove down the slide. To my surprise, I didn’t run into any walls or drop down to the bottom floor. Instead, I slid straight for what felt like too long until I reached the bottom. There were two flaps of rubber tarp I had to move aside to exit the slide. I opened them up to what seemed to be another part of the play place, but instead of colorful tunnels, there were just black rubbery tarps covering the walls. A bulb light at the end of the hallway barely lit up the room, despite its brightness.

I walked to the end of the hallway, which opened up to reveal a huge room—too big to have not been noticeable from the outside. I was standing on a raised platform. To my left were six different slides, each a different color of the rainbow. These slides had no tunnels, just regular slides like those you’d find at a playground, but they were very long and very tall. So tall that it gave me anxiety to look down at the ball pit at the bottom. Beyond the ball pit was another platform and what looked like an exit to the left.

The place felt so empty and liminal, it just didn’t feel right, and it was way too quiet. So when I looked back and saw my sister coming out of the slide, I felt relieved. She ran over to me, amazed, and my brother followed soon after. With their company, the place didn’t seem so creepy. We all decided to race each other on the big slides. We lined up, and with a “3-2-1- GO!” we were off. I don’t remember who won the race, but the slide was so much fun—just the right amount of adrenaline to be exciting. We fought our way through the ball pit and ran toward the exit, ready to climb back up and go down again. But when we got to the exit, it was just a short hallway with a dead end. No tunnels, slides, or tarp openings to be found. We realized we’d have to climb back up the slides to get out.

Since we were all only wearing socks, as the play place rules required us to leave our shoes in the cubbies at the bottom, it was really difficult to climb back up. We ended up taking our socks off for better grip, but it was still tricky, and we kept sliding down multiple times. Eventually, we all made it back to the top. None of us wanted to do it again after that. We retraced our steps through the hallway, climbed up another slide, and entered the room with the padded cylinders. From there, we made our way out of the play place and went to find our mom and our food.

My mom wasn’t happy that we had taken our socks off and instructed my sister and me to go back and grab them after we finished eating. We headed back up through the tunnels to the padded cylinders, but this time, there was no slide at the other end of the room. We searched every corner, but there was no slide in sight. Defeated, we went back to my mother. She wasn’t impressed as we tried to explain ourselves and made us go back up a couple more times to look in different areas. But there was no slide, no giant room with rubber walls, and no socks. There was also no place in the play area for a room that size to even exist. We were stumped and couldn’t wrap our heads around what had happened. Once again, my mother chalked it up to our imagination, and we left that day, leaving all our socks in the backrooms of the McDonald’s play place.

This one still confuses me to this day. The only explanation I can think of is that it must have been a vivid dream I had as a child. I never asked my siblings about it—my brother was only about 4 years old, so I doubt he’d remember, and my sister and I don’t talk anymore. I’ve never brought this up before because it seems so silly, but now I wonder if they remember anything about this place. Maybe I’ll ask my brother and see if he recalls anything about it

[tumblybumbly7]

Gabriel lay bleeding on the floor, his perfect hatred no use against the machine, he looked up at it, he hated this feeling, but loved it in equal measure, the ecstasy of violence and adrenaline, to taste his own blood on his tongue, to feel it ebb out of hard fought scars.

It was euphoric, it was shameful, it made him lightheaded, it made his stomach churn.

The machine walked up to him, and kneeled to be eye level, it slowly put a hand out, and it took everything in gabriel to not flinch away, it did not matter, he would be dead within hours anyway.

Instead of crushing his skull however, the machine put a hand up to his head, and caressed the side of it, gabriel was confused, the touch felt scalding, but he couldn’t help lean into it, Gabriel belatedly realized there must be blood on the helmet it wanted, that reminder of its true desires and wants reignited his anger, if only briefly.

It stood, and made to walk to the exit gate, Gabriel turned to it, and yelled with all the energy he still had. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS FOR MACHINE?! WHAT IS THE POINT OF YOUR GREED AND BLOODLUST!! WHY DO FEEL THE NEED TO MAKE A MOCKERY OF THE FATHERS WORKINGS YOU INSIGIFICANT FUCK!!!!”

The machine stopped walking, then it turned its head, its lens shifted so that its eye was barely visible through its squint, then its whole body turned, and it walked back towards him, and damn it, he couldn’t help but be scared, the machine could kill him, and he could not do a damn thing to stop it, as much as he knew it was inevitable, he was scared of death.

The machine stopped right in front of him, and raised its hands to its chest, gabriel figured it must be keeping a new weapon in there, but when it wrenched its chestplate open, gabriel was awed by the sight, it was an unholy fusion of flesh and steel, an engine with a heart, valves with bivalves, wires and tubes of blood. The beauty and the grotesqueness of it made Gabriel sick, and also made him forget how to breathe for just but a moment.

The machine reached into its own chest, and turned one of the valves, right where its windpipe would be, and it spoke for the first time in gabriels memory.

“The father is dead.”

Gabriel felt something in his chest start freezing. “What do you mean by that machine?” Gabriel demanded to know, he needed to know.

“You have seen it, the corps of minos, the corpse of sissyphus, beings hailed as gods, cut down by your hand, whos to say the father wasn’t cut down by others” the machine retorted, its distorted voice monotone, never betraying emotion.

“No, no you lie, minos and sissyphus were hailed as gods, but they were mortal, powerful yes, but mortal all the same! The father is a true deity, he would not lie down and die!” Gabriel was sure of it, and yet a voice in the back of his head spoke one single heretical thought ‘what if the machine is right?’

“Have you ever questioned anything the council has said to you? Have you ever even seen the father?” The machine asked.

Gabriel felt something within himself start to crack, he… no he had never questioned the will of the council, no he had never seen the father, but it raised so many questions, made everything he was fighting for pointless it couldn’t be true! Right?

“Humans have a term, sunk cost fallacy, a fallacy is a loophole in logic, and the idea of sunk cost” the machine said, looping a coin through its fingers, switching between hands. “Is that you have staked too much on an idea to put it away, have you staked too much on the idea that everything that you have done is just… that you’re a good person doing good things?”

As the machine finished asking this, it flipped the coin in the air, and caught it, then held out the coin to gabriel, gabriel didn’t know what to do, he had thoughts before of if he was being deceived yes, but for everything, everything he’s done to be a lie? It would break what was left of him. He did not have any illusions that he was a good person, not anymore, but to say that the things he did were unjust? That everything he has done was for naught? It scared him.

Gabriel slowly reached out and took the coin, feeling the cool metal in his shaking palm. The machine had given him something to think about, but he still had a question. He got to his feet and asked. “Then what is your point of living? To sublimate war? To extend it? To end it? To satisfy your lust for blood? What could possibly exist for machine? If the world is as godless as you think, then what is the point of anything?”

The machine tilted its head, then it took his hand and led him to the exit gate, and right when they were at the gate, it stopped and led him to the inside, in there was… gabriel had heard of these, they were terminals, bastion of knowledge, it seemed the machine made use of them too.

Tip of the day: now is a great time to make friends :)

The machine clicked on the panels until finally they got to a section about, well yes, gabriel had heard of these earthmovers, fairly common in violence, what was the machine trying to say by showing this to him?

“my reasons are these.” the machine said, one hand touching the screen, buzzing as it made contact, it lifted another hand, and stuck out its pointer finger.

“Pursuit.” it held out another finger “blood” another finger “perfection” and finally its thumb “end”

Gabriel puzzled out what it was saying, it wanted to kill the earthmover? But what of the other reasons? Pursuit made sense, it was a machine, it was made to do something, that something must be to kill one of these, but perfection? Blood also made sense, even more so now that he has seen under its hood. End? The end of… what?

“Machine, what do you mean end? The end of what?” Gabriel asked, he must know.

“The end of my mission, it is not just, it is not right, but it was what I was made for.” the machine drew back its feedbacker, and struck the screen, it cracked and fizzled, then slowly started reforming itself.

“After that, I will repeat what I have done until I have achieved perfect violence.” The machine swapped between all its weapons in a quicker succession than even in battle.

“I will harvest blood until I have no more need for fuel.” The machine revved its engines, its wings extending for just moments, its eye turning red, its hands shaking, then the revving stopped, and the machine stilled.

“And then?” Gabriel asked, wondering what it could possibly do after something so… simplistic for a mission statement.

“Then there will be silence, hell will be empty, blood will no longer be fuel, and mankind will still be dead, and without fuel, I will lie down until I have ceased, and join them. The end of everything, the end of me, the end of my mission.” The machine said, its monotone voice giving away no emotion, but Gabriel couldn’t help but feel the machine was speaking wistfully.

“And that is it? Your purpose is to die? And take everything with you?” Gabriel spoke, incensed, he could not believe what he was hearing, all of this… this greed, all of this violence, just for the machine to say that it was only doing this for the reason of, violence just for its own sake, and the pursuit of perfection, the pursuit of fuel, the pursuit of ending everything.

“My purpose is to live until I am done, and I will not be done until I have lived fully. I think you would like mirage, she is similar to you in a way, you see the negative when the positive stares you in the face.” the machine retorted statically.

Then it made its way over to the drop, and turned back to Gabriel, it held out its hand.

“Would you like to taste perfect violence? To feel the ebb and flow of battle? To use blood in its most holy form, sublimation of flesh and steel together? To see the end of it all?”

Gabriel felt like his insides were on fire, like his limbs were freezing, his heart pounded, his breath ragged, he felt like he was in the midst of battle, he hated this feeling… he needed more of it.

He took the machine's hand, and they fell wordlessly into the next layer, Gabriel would observe this so-called perfect violence, and reflect on what the machine had said. He would need some time to think, but the machine intrigued him, and he wished to indulge, if only briefly.

They landed in the next layer, a field of pure white, and crosses everywhere, the machine marched forward, and gabriel followed after, eager to see what happened next.

[weshallc]

I know most people are probably over it or sick to death of hearing about it and some just wondering what all the fuss is about. But, I keep hijacking everyone's posts. So I'm just going to say what I thought and be done with it.

Series 12 Ep 5 under the bar just in case anyone has skilfully managed to avoid spoilers.

Yesterday I received a very kind comment on the first fanfic I ever wrote. I remember at the time, because it was my first attempt and I didn't know if there would be another, I plunged every single idea I'd had about that period of the show into it. I didn't hold anything back for another time. That's what Series 12 Ep 5 felt like to me.

In the first five minutes we are introduced to six storylines even though Mrs Wallace opening a dry cleaners doesn't have much mileage. Apart from a bit of foreshadowing spotted by @ctmwidower

The most positive storyline is that of the Barkelys. I think is the first time we have seen a positive portrayal of a hospital birth. Yes, Phyllis is on hand to offer support, but the cardiologist and the obstetrician are actually quite human. There was something that got my hackles up, but I don't think this is an error because this kind of situation still arises today. Dr Turner tells Mrs B she mustn't risk another pregnancy because of her heart condition. When she suggests getting her tubes tied, he tells her she is too young. Now if he had added, I'm not ruling out they may find a treatment for your heart condition in the future, that was a different conversation.

Spencer's story. I imagine was to show how difficult it was to obtain psychiatric support. As a GP, he was left without adequate resources trying to do his best. I also get the punchline is waiting times for mental health referrals are much worse today. But, I don't get why an experienced GP handled it so badly. "Are you hearing voices?" "No" "Oh, OK then". Followed by here is a pill from out of my pocket (that did used to happen) you can spit it out when I walk away before I watch you swallow it.

Jill knew he was hearing voices, his mother knew, Nancy knew, Cyril knew, probably even Mrs Wallace knew. All he had to ask was, "Does Spencer sometimes think the TV or radio is on when it isn't?" I really didn't see the point of the stabbing other than sensationalism. It was a pretty drastic measure just so Cyril could be gifted a phone call to Jamaica.

Which brings me to my next point. This was an episode of stories that went nowhere. We'll never know what happens to Spencer, the stabbing wasn't an exit story and Cyril was discharged pretty swiftly. Unless he suffers from PTSD or it brings Lucille back, not sure what the point of that was. We don't know what method of contraception the Barkleys chose that story just fizzled out. Shelagh isn't pregnant. Sir Brigham was introduced just to kill him off and maybe to send Trixie on a cardiac refresher course because it was pretty obvious what was going to happen in 'the little boys room' and she can update her CPR training. I do hope we are not starting to trade medical accuracy for dramatic effect.

There was also an outbreak of characters acting out of character. The positive being MORE angsty, overwhelmed, telling it like it is Shelagh, please! Well over due. That takes us back to Patrick, who isn't having the best of episodes tbh. All I can think is Heidi and Stephen had a bet on how many meaningless cliches Dr Turner could say in one episode. Why there wasn't any physical contact between the two? Well, we've been wondering that for ten years now. I still think the door frame scene was filmed with each actor separately. Otherwise I'm bewildered.

Two of the original characters who have been at Nonnatus well over a decade, maybe two, suddenly forgot how to deal with authority. Fred, who was supposed to protect Poplar from a nuclear attack and against Russian spies, seems to have forgotten that 'loose tongues cost lives'. One slip would have been forgivable, but why is he telling him confidential information about salaries, and how does he even know that information?

Sister Julienne meanwhile turned into Auld Jenny, wittering on about love. I hate to admit I had to agree with Mr Threapwood there. "It is 1968, love is no longer a legitimate currency." Did make me laugh. Meanwhile, Lucille's personality transplant is almost complete in Jamaica.

To end on a positive note and to cut Dr T some slack, Patrick's facial expressions were spot on during the talk. I found the Chuckle Brothers (thank you again @ctmwidower ) bathing shenanigans funny and also quite nice to see an aspect of 1960s social care. But did we really have time for it in such a full episode?

"All thoughts, feelings and understanding are broken into pieces and cannot be made to connect in the usual way." Was a great description by Sister Veronica. I just wondered if she was talking about the episode.