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elysiansparadise · 3 months ago

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A powerful individual with an unbreakable aura whose gaze reflects the most sensitive of hearts and the most resilient of souls.

Aries Rising: The Survivor

Many of these natives have a clear vision of life: "Things don't happen magically. Do them yourself." They are people with a confident appearance, often considered attractive or sexy thanks to Mars ruling over there. Mars energy not only influences your breath-taking appearance, but also your attitude, independent, authentic and will never take bad treatment from others. They have created a strong appearance to face life, projecting themselves as self-sufficient people who recognize their value and will not be afraid to fight if necessary or if they are threatened. Wary, observant and with an initiative and desire to get what they want and achieve many things. Tension in their early environment is likely, so they grew up learning to navigate the chaos or at least not to easily falter over what they consider to be just the tip of the iceberg. There is nothing they do not defend with more passion than themselves and their dignity. They will constantly seek to know themselves more, give themselves the satisfaction of being able to grow more and more, and do what they consider correct or necessary to preserve their well-being. Once they trust and feel comfortable with someone, they can be fun, outgoing, and more communicative. They will not be afraid to enter new environments, meet new people or appear confident, but entering their hearts and close circles can be a complicated task.

When Taurus falls in the 2nd house, natives highly value security in every sense, clearly including financial security. Many of them may have the belief that they have to work on their own to achieve this security, making them highly independent. These people place a great value on comfort and pleasure, they will not hesitate to stay away from places or people that are another headache in their lives. They are very selective people with what they want to keep in their lives. Their self-esteem is usually linked to what they have, and not only in material terms, but also skills, achievements, people. They know how to give themselves their place and will not think twice about moving away from environments or people who do not appreciate them as they are. They constantly work on ways to improve their self-esteem, whether it's taking care of their body, pampering themselves, or doing activities that make them feel better. One of the values for which they stand out is their devotion and perseverance. When they focus their minds on something they want, they do not rest until they achieve it. Many of them tend to use this tough and strong exterior to face life, because they feel better after knowing that they have been able to handle whatever life has thrown at them. Their value system is strong and stable, so they will rarely act against them. This means that although they understand that people may be different from them, they will not allow someone to try to tell them what is right or wrong, or if their values are correct. They have clear priorities and adhere firmly to their principles. Many of them may feel a strong need to be self-sufficient and not financially dependent on others. They are very careful when it comes to managing their money or what their possessions are concerned, they are not careless with what they value or what they have a hard time getting. Possessive tendencies may exist, especially if the ruler is making tense aspects with Sun, Moon, Neptune or Pluto.

One of the best overlays of this rising is Gemini in the 3rd house, as it makes them eloquent, versatile and adaptable people in their way of expressing themselves. They can be good speakers, writers or have talent for any activity that requires effective, clear and, why not, entertaining communication. These individuals are constantly seeking new information and knowledge, although it should be added that they may quickly become interested in topics only to later drop them if they have already learned everything that was available or if they lose passion or interest. They love to learn and share what they know with others, and as a result of their interests they can form important bonds. These natives usually have a wide range of interests and can be multitasking due to their energy level or demand. These natives like to learn about many different topics and may prefer to learn on their own. They process information quickly and have a natural ability to connect ideas and concepts, and even find patterns where it might go unnoticed. Their multitasking skills allow them to be very efficient and productive in their daily lives. Their mind is always active and looking for new intellectual challenges. They may prefer short trips and need a change of scenery from time to time, as monotony can overwhelm and bore them. This need for movement can manifest itself in your daily life, with frequent trips and changes in routine.

With Cancer in the 4th house, these natives have a need for security since childhood. They give a lot of importance to the issue of protection, whether due to lack of care and/or attention in childhood or exaggeration of it. They are emotionally deep people who hide their emotions perfectly, because they know that it is something that is not given to just anyone. They prefer to deal with their emotions independently, especially those they perceive as vulnerable or tense. In childhood they could be very emotional, and from that stage of their life they experienced situations that forced them not to leave anyone in, to reserve their thoughts and emotions. Despite being strong people, emotional security is crucial for them, and they can seek environments where they feel protected and understood. They have a strong instinct to care for others, especially those to whom they themselves provide the family title. They may take on caregiver roles and seek to ensure the emotional well-being of their loved ones. They can find home and security with what seems familiar, comfort food, movies or things that remind them of happy memories from the past. Memories and experiences from childhood home can have a lasting impact on their adult life, this is due to their great memory to remember their experiences in detail, good or bad. They like their space to reflect warmth and security, and may have a penchant for homey decor and the details that make a house truly be and feel like a home. Many of them built a strong armor not only that others decide not to mess with, but that the most vulnerable can count on. Behind this strong, unwavering appearance that has experienced all kinds of situations, there is a gentle, warm heart that longs for that tenderness, comfort and softness.

Leo in the 5th house usually grants strong self-esteem and confidence. They are proud of their abilities and very aware of them. They are usually charismatic and magnetic, attracting the romantic interest of others with ease. They stand out for their sensuality and that authentic way of projecting themselves, they do not like to wear masks and pretend to be what they are not and they have the idea that if someone is going to love them, they must know and accept their real selves. Intrigue, joy and excitement are crucial in their love relationships and they enjoy courtship and seduction, both being the one who initiates it and being the target of it. Pleasure and fun are important aspects for these natives and they will never feign interest in things in which they genuinely have no interest. They like to enjoy life to the fullest, seeking experiences that bring them joy and satisfaction. They may have occasional bursts of energy and hyperactivity where they want to do many things at the same time. They enjoy activities that allow them to express themselves freely and entertain themselves. They are people who enjoy expressing themselves artistically and creatively, whether through art, music, acting, or any other form of self-expression. They like to excel at whatever they do and, whether they are aware of it or not, they may have perfectionist inclinations. They easily stand out from the crowd and can easily gain recognition, both in close circles and on a large scale. They can be loving, protective parents who enjoy spending time with their children and encouraging their creativity and self-expression. They tend to be a source of inspiration and leadership for children, encouraging them to be themselves and follow their passions. They can be seen as role models and guides who help children develop their confidence and self-esteem. Extroverted, independent children with strong self-confidence.

Many of them are dedicated and reliable workers thanks to the presence of Virgo in the 6th house. They have a strong sense of duty and are very responsible in their approach towards daily tasks or what they consider to be their duty. Although they appear confident and have a high opinion of themselves and their abilities, they can be perfectionists, always seeking to improve and perfect everything they do. It is likely that just because they are aware of what they are capable of, they easily feel that they can do a better job even if they have already done it, since they may judge themselves very harshly, especially if they have made a mistake that they consider very serious. obvious. They can be conscious of their diet, exercise, and daily habits, always looking for ways to keep their body and mind in optimal condition. They are likely to feel hyperactive at times, and the fact that Mercury rules this house can make them tend to overthink things or be very nervous. They are very disciplined when it comes to work or carrying out tasks that they consider very important to them, and many of these individuals can have a strong sense of self-discipline, managing to finish things before deadlines. They set very high standards and many of them are likely to push themselves to work or be productive even when they are feeling bad emotionally. They have an analytical mind and are excellent at solving problems of any kind. Many people tend to rely on them precisely for this reason, because they advise objectively and their blunt way of being can make others put their feet on the ground. For them there is nothing more rewarding than seeing the results of their hard work. In fact, it is very likely that after finishing a job they feel relief instead of pride. Actions and tangibles are what are important to them.

The presence of Libra in the 7th house makes these natives very focused on creating healthy relationships that bring them happiness. They, in turn, are capable of giving a lot in a relationship in a selfless and selfish way. It is crucial for them that both they and their partner feel comfortable, satisfied and loved, for them neither has to dominate or control the other, being a couple they seek that balance, that they both help each other to cover those points in which they They may find difficulty, someone with whom they form a strong, loving and lasting team, a person to support unconditionally and who will help them in return. Despite this independent and strong personality they have, they are loving people, dedicated to their relationships and very emotional. They put a lot of emphasis on building lasting relationships in which there is not only love or affection, but common goals and intellectual connection. These people have learned to be independent since they were young, but in them lies the fear of falling to extremes in relation to others, that is, they fear feeling overwhelmed by loneliness while they fear showing their most vulnerable sides due to the possibility of being hurt or being hurt. take advantage of them, that is where Libra energy aims to guide them to balance these ideas, finding the middle point in which they gradually open their heart. These natives have the lesson of allowing themselves to be loved and understanding that they do not have to be different to be loved, just as they are they deserve love. Their future spouse may be a loving person they can rely on, someone calmer and grounded. They will have both beautiful physical attractiveness and heart. It is a great indicator of a loving marriage in which both feel trust and affection for each other.

One of the things that is not talked about in such detail about this rising is how secretive they can be, their secretive nature is usually one of the least talked about aspects of them, and we attribute that to Scorpio in the 8th house. This overlay that demonstrates this tendency that they have to keep to themselves aspects that they consider important in their life, also activates the focus of others on the intense nature of the natives. They are people who do things in a dedicated manner, putting in all their energy and motivation, and they not only show this intensity when carrying out their plans, defending their individuality or standing up for themselves. They are lovers who keep you on the edge of your seat, who intoxicate you with sensations that at first surprise you, but at the same time you find yourself wanting more and more. For them, sex is a way to unite with their partner, to become oneself and completely immerse themselves in them and their feelings. They make sex an unforgettable experience for others, because despite that fiery approach that devours you inside and out, they take care of really connecting with you through sex, they make it seem like an art in which they are especially good. They look for emotional and sexual connections that are not superficial, but that touch the deepest part of their being. However, in addition to being those lovers who will have you thinking about them and who know exactly what they are doing, they contain someone who has gone through a lot in their lives, from tough situations, betrayals or in general, a set of events that has built those walls between others and themselves. Many of them may fear being very intimate with someone, because they know perfectly well that they are capable of loving someone madly and totally, and they fear placing all that love and affection on the wrong person, on someone who is like the rest. They are resilient and brave people who are not afraid to stand up for themselves no matter what problem awaits. They have faced life, many times on their own, which has made them very aware of the strength of will and spirit they have. Although they are not the biggest fans of change, they know how to adapt to it very well. These people often go through crises that force them to reinvent themselves and transform. They often emerge from these crises stronger and wiser, with a greater understanding of themselves and life.

When Sagittarius is in the 9th house, natives have an innate desire to learn and explore the world. They are motivated by a relentless pursuit of truth and knowledge in their highest forms, whether through formal education, philosophy, or self-study. Many of them are in constant search for truth and seek to understand the deeper meaning of existence. They may be attracted to foreign cultures, and it is common for them to develop a deep interest in the languages, customs, and traditions of other countries. They stand out for the wisdom they acquire thanks to their experiences in life; they can eventually become sources of wisdom for others, offering teachings that come from their own experience and understanding of the world. This placement also tells us about someone who is very likely to be influential or a source of inspiration for others. They live in a constant search to discover who they are and it is very likely that from a young age they feel interest in ways to get to know themselves better. They need to feel like they have the space to explore, learn and grow at their own pace and in their own way. They hate restrictions that limit their pursuit of knowledge or their ability to explore and be themselves. With Jupiter ruling this house, natives can have beautiful, memorable and enlightening experiences on trips, feeling “renewed” when traveling. Likewise, university time can bring many opportunities for growth for these natives.

With Capricorn in the 10th house we find a combination of ambition and discipline. These people are willing to work hard to achieve their goals and build a solid reputation. Although they may face challenges related to self-criticism and fear of failure, their perseverance and ability to overcome adversity often leads to success, especially in adulthood. Reputation is very important for these people and not only from a superficial perspective, but many of them like to be seen just as they consciously want to project themselves: independent, strong and capable of achieving everything they set their minds to. They dislike being seen as weak, as someone who others can take advantage of or even think about playing tricks on. They take themselves seriously and hate not being taken seriously by others. They can become very successful after a while and patience and perseverance can take them to the tops of those mountains they seek to conquer. They have the ability to make difficult decisions and handle important responsibilities, and it is very likely that from a very young age they have had to take on responsibilities that people their age did not have or should have. Many of them project this aura of power, people can see them as unattainable and, depending on the aspects of Saturn, even unreachable or demanding. Likewise, these natives give the impression of being very clear people with what they think, skilled in everything related to their profession or hobbies, and people can feel that they are reliable, righteous and honest. They have excellent ability to manage resources, time and people. Their ability to organize and plan is one of their greatest advantages in the professional world, all of which makes them very suitable for leadership roles in their work or even for starting businesses/being their own bosses.

With Aquarius in the 11th house, they highly value freedom within their friendships, as they prefer relationships that are not possessive and allow for a lot of personal space and freedom of expression. Their friends tend to be independent, original, and often people they consider unique. This can be an indicator of a wide network of contacts and social connections. They enjoy interacting with people from diverse backgrounds and, although they may have many acquaintances, the title friend is not given to many. People with this placement tend to be very very focused on the future, which may lead to anxiety or stressing too much over what’s going to happen. They are interested in innovative ideas and may be in social or political movements that seek change and improvement of society. They have a strong desire to contribute to social change and improve people's lives. These natives are likely motivated by a sense of social justice and a desire to make the world a better place. They find it difficult to conform to what is conventional or what is socially expected, and there is nothing that bothers them more than people placing expectations on them. They prefer to follow their own path and associate with people who share this mentality. While they can be excellent friends, they don't mind being on their own or having hobbies that only they participate in. Many of them give this vibe of being relaxed and rational to their friends and this does not mean that they are not affectionate, but rather that they prefer to maintain an objective perspective and avoid emotional dramas. They value equality and justice in their relationships, preferring connections where everyone is treated with the same respect and consideration.

You look up and stare in that mirror... What do you see, Pisces in the 12th house? Why do you look away? Because it seems that only you see the pain of your gaze? Or those wounds deep inside you that you don't let anyone else see. You know you isolate yourself, you learned to deal with everything yourself. You thought it was the right thing to do, to not be a burden, to not be perceived as weak or dependent, but even the strongest can break at times. You find peace in solitude, but at the same time you can feel drowned in it. A kind of relationship with her where it seems like you just got used to it while you understand that it is necessary. Nothing in excess is good, neither depending too much on others, nor carrying everything on your own. You fear returning to tense emotions, those of fear and uncertainty that forced you to face life on your own, believe me, that already makes you strong. Within you lies an emotional person, intuitive and perceptive of what is happening around them. Someone with a strong sense of empathy, someone who is the support of others that they would like to have, although they do not know how to verbalize it. Even when you look for that time of retreat in which to be immersed, to search for the truth within you, to find inspiration and reconnect with what allows you to feel better after hits of reality. You may be very hard on yourself, hating the idea of victimizing yourself or not taking responsibility for your own affairs... but you no longer need to take responsibility for others either. Free yourself from those burdens that do not belong to you and that others have placed on you, free yourself from guilt for situations in which you did not have control. Within you there is a beautiful world that deserves to be not only explored, but cherished and appreciated, an honest and empathic soul with the capacity to love unconditionally, to create great things from dust, to inspire others to dream. A spark of curiosity in an immense universe full of things to understand, one more star in the cosmos that shines in a singular and unique way. Your mind is a palace full of ideas, questions and occurrences that could captivate anyone. Your heart, guarded by walls that protect it from getting hurt, being fooled, or allowing others to walk all over you, is full of warmth and kindness.

#astrology #natal chart #birth chart #aries #aries rising #aries ascendant #aries asc #aries in the 1st house #ascendant in aries #rising in aries #aries in the 1st

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identitty-dickruption · 4 months ago

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alcoholism recovery timeline (as of 69 days of sobriety)

things are different for everyone, but I thought it could be useful for people if I sketch out a rough timeline of withdrawal symptoms/things that are still problems etc now that I'm over two months into recovery. caveat that my body may be different from yours

first few days

your big problem on day number one is getting through whatever hangover you might be experiencing from your most recent bout of drinking

HELL !

headaches. nausea. shaking. flu-like symptoms

the headaches took several days to die down, the nausea was mostly gone after 48 hours

cannot emphasise enough that the biggest problem of the first week is physical recovery. if things start to get scary, go to emergency. some people can experience seizures in withdrawal, and that can get dangerous

first few weeks

mood-swings. goddd the mood-swings. terrible

some of the longer-term withdrawal symptoms are going to start to be more obvious around this point

examples: clumsiness, nerve problems (e.g. the shakes won't go away), changes in appetite

it is at this stage that you want to establish some kind of routine around the times that you usually would be drinking. e.g. if you used to have your first drink at 7:30am, that is now Going For a Walk Time

you will learn just how strong your mental associations are between booze and various activities. the hard bit is breaking those associations. which is easier if you have replacements

around about one month

this is. a commonly reported danger-time

for me, and for others I've talked to, one month is around the time you start to think "hmm it can't have been that bad. surely I can just have a couple of drinks?" <- it was that bad. trust

this is the time when it can be good to start to take stock of what you've gained from sobriety. remember why you're doing it. have some positive reasons as well as the negative ones (e.g. sobriety makes me feel more comfortable in my body, more secure in my relationships, etc)

the other thing that can happen at this point is. the reasons you drank in the first place coming back in full force. this is the point where I went from "quitting alcohol" to "recovery from alcoholism"

around about two months

from here, I've mostly found it's about maintenance of the good habits I established early in recovery. this means reminding myself of why it's important to be keeping those habits going

the thing is. the tangible benefits might now be plateauing, so you need to make sure you're able to find ways to motivate yourself to keep going

if you're feeling comfortable to do so, it might be a good idea to test yourself a little bit. where it was a good idea to avoid bars in the first month, you might be okay to go back to those environments with your new coping strategies (just remember to give yourself an out)

you will keep learning about yourself and you will gain awareness of all sorts of triggers that weren't immediately obvious at first. as long as you stay vigilant and you know who to turn to in a crisis you will be okay. trust me <3

okay that's kind of where I'm at now. hope it helps. luck and love to all recovering alcoholics out there

#addiction #alcoholism

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it.

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were.

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different.

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.”

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.”

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear.

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?”

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.”

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear.

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.”

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone.

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.”

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again.

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.”

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time?

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you.

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin.

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.”

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours.

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead.

“Hello, darlin’.”

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you.

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?”

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.”

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head.

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval.

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.”

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance.

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.”

“Just frustrating.” You mumble.

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?”

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed.

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.”

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair.

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice.

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face.

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth.

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out.

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.”

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips.

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.”

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue.

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.”

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t.

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him.

“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.”

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach.

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak.

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans.

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock.

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good.

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock.

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming.

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want.

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry.

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.”

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.”

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.”

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.”

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time.

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you.

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat.

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.”

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you.

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.”

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you.

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin.

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?”

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.”

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?”

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.”

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.”

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?”

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.”

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?”

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin.

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you.

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.”

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.”

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mousedetective · 7 months ago

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URGENT! Please Help A Homeless, Disabled & Mostly Queer Family Get Ready For Housing By Helping With Paying For Much-Needed Loans!

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address

4/29/24 - New Post

So some stuff has happened, some of the loans I listed before have been paid, and I missed a few things, so I'm making a new post!

So, we still haven't heard about Section 8, and while I'm grateful for the shelter housing and feeding us, there's been some pretty toxic activity on my floor and I'm at my wit's end. I'm not sleeping well, I have constant headaches from grinding my teeth, and my blood pressure (which is already high and I'm already on meds for it) keeps being high when I get it checked. So we need to get housing with or without the Section 8 voucher as soon as possible.

Now, I have a list of low-income apartments all over North County. While not ideal, we have also heard of a complex of studio apartments available for $1400 which give preferential treatment to shelter occupants. But the problem is that I not only have a bunch of payday loans to pay, but I also have a payment on a two-month loan, a five-month loan, a six-month loan, and a year-long loan that eat up my entire income until I at least pay off the first three. My mom only gets $1300 and my daughter isn't on disability yet. So we can't even afford the studio until October and we'll have been kicked out of the shelter long before then.

I can probably cover the remaining payday loans and this month's payment for the two-month loan and still pay for the storage units. But I need to pay off whatever I can on the other loans, and the longer I wait the more interest that compiles. So I need a lot more than I was asking for before and I need it quickly to cover at least all of this month's payments while I work on paying off the totals of the bigger loans.

This is the list of payments I need to make as it stands now:

$300 for my loan from Ace Cash Express (due by May 2nd)

$300 for my mom's loan from Ace Cash Express (due May 2nd)

$408 for my loan payment from Ascend Loans (due May 3rd)

$277 for my loan payment from Greenline Loans (due May 3rd)

$177 for my loan payment from Green Arrow Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my mom's loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$321.80 for my mom's loan from Moneylion (due by May 15th)

$285 for my Moneytree loan (due by May 25th)

$285 for my mom's Moneytree loan (due by May 26th)

I can't make partial payments on any of these loans except the Moneylion loans my mom has. I need the full amount for the payment to pay it off early, and for the four non-payday loans, I can't make an early payment but if I can cover the payments in my bank account with donations I'm good.

The Ascend loan was for $1,000. The Greenline loan was for $500. The Green Arrow loan was for $400. The Possible loans are $300 each, coming out as two payments of $148 (one this May, one in June) per loan. So I'm going to set two goals: covering all of the above payments and then covering the bigger loans as a whole throughout the month of May.

I can't take much more of the toxicity at the shelter at the moment, though I have hopes some of it will subside if the most toxic resident on my floor leaves this week like he's threatening to, but yeah. We just need to get all this paid off and get into housing of our own, even if it's just a studio for now. I'm including the $35 I got from a GFM towards the current totals because I spent all the rest of the money I had and I still haven't gotten that donation in my account yet.

TOTAL GOAL: $47/$4850

IMMEDIATE GOAL: $47/$2650

Goal has been met! However, the car is acting up, so we have to take it to our mechanic tomorrow. I may still need some help.

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voiceofdragons · 7 months ago

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Danny With the Street

150,000 people die every day on average. On average, 385,000 people are born on that same day. Thats 535,000 souls made and unmade every day. Some peacefully at the end of a life lived, either fulfilled or not, and some tragically and early. Some even die the same day they are born. 535,000 people. 385,000 births, 150,000 deaths. These, however, are simply the averages. No one living can get the exact numbers, and they’d change daily regardless, so that data would be of no real use.

That’s only humans though. Those numbers are dwarfed in comparison to the averages for animal life, and the less said about plant life the better for our collective migraine. Still, that is no small amount of people. For the number of deaths, you’d get a population somewhere between the size of Kiribati and Guam. For the births it would be between Iceland and Guadalupe. The combined number puts you at Malta.

You have probably never even seen that many people in person before. And that is not even a percentage of a percentage of the worlds population. 535,000 is not barely a drop in the bucket. This number is important to Danny, for the simple fact that you can figure out a lot of interesting things regarding ghosts with it. He’d pestered a few of the Observants, when they weren’t trying to literally get him out of their picture, with a bunch of questions a curious 14 year old would want answers to.

Some were not answered, in typical Observant fashion, but they’d given him an interesting answer to the question “how many people even become ghosts”.

“The rate changes day to day, but we’ve figured out that its normally 1 ghost out of however many are born and day in a day added together.” This particular Observant then proceed to ramble on about how smart they were for figuring it out, how much better off the universe was for having them watching over things, blah blah blah.

Even if the rate changes, it doesn’t change drastically enough to ruin the precise and exacting science of guestimating things. If its one in 535,000, but only 150,000 die a day, then that means its somewhere between 3 and 4 days to get a new ghost. Their reasons for lingering were there own, and were often normal. And then there were the fruitloops that he dealt with so often that it was kind of starting to get old. The ghosts were getting easier to handle most days though, especially after he helped lock up Pariah Dark again. Who knew making their dimension safer would make them hate him a bit less?

And these days his biggest headache was that government agency that had temporarily bought Fentonworks to try and nuke the ghost zone. They’d failed, but still tried their hardest to make his life miserable.

Case in point; they were in the living room with his parents. Talking about Phantom. Specifically about some ‘concerning’ footage of him they’d been able to record of the ‘ectolasmic scum’. He was hiding invisible on the stairs, his mom and dad on the couch with two familiar white suited dingbats standing across from them. They had placed a tablet on the coffee table, a video taking its sweet time loading.

“As interesting as i’m sure this video is, would either of you gentlemen like to see some of our latest projects?” his mom said, clearly growing bored as the video took yet another minute to load. Thank goodness ghosts effected technology the way they did, clearly whatever film they’d taken was hard on their systems. Mom picked back up with “we’ve been experimenting with some new ‘ecto-electrolysis metal plating’ its a lengthy process, but the results are-” suddenly the video started to play, cutting her off. Danny leaned forward to get a better look, and froze. It wasn’t Phantom.

It was normal, human looking Danny Fenton. Walking down the street. The same one that Johnny and Kitty had gone racing down last thursday. Suddenly a familiar looking mist pooled out of his lips, and the screen started to glitch and lag a bit, but he remembered what happened next. He’d look around the empty street, not see anyone, and then-.

“Going Ghost!” his familiar catchphrase came from the tablet, and the glitching stopped. And Danny Fenton was no longer on the screen. All the glitching had coalesced on a single point on the screen, exactly where he’d been standing, making it clear there was a ghost in the footage. Then another blob of corrupted screen appeared streaking down the street, and the first one sped off after it.

The video stopped, and his parents were frozen. His dad reached for the tablet, and restarted the video. The catchphrase, the mist, the glitching, and his disappearance. His parents replayed the video about five more times before his mom shakily flipped the tablet face down. His dad hugged gripped her shoulders as she brought her still shaking hands up to her face.

“We understand that this must be difficult for you both, but it is imperative for state security and research that you assist us with the capture and containment of the entity.” the agent on the left spoke softly, clearly trying to be gentle, but it brought no comfort to anyone in the room, least of all Danny.

“This is not simply difficult!” his dad said forcefully. “This is our son, and you’ve just told us-” his dad stood up and started pacing, clearly distraught. After a minute of pacing he slumped back onto the couch. Mom sniffed and rubbed her face down before bringing her hands to her lap. Her next words were enough to make Danny freeze in shock and terror.

“He’s upstairs in his room.” dad turned to look at her, shocked was an understated descriptor for his face. Danny stood up still invisible and made his way up to his room. He had to leave before anyone came for him. He just barely heard her continue. “I’m going to lock down the house so he can’t get out, but just to be safe you should go outside in case he somehow gets out.” he didn’t hear the agents respond, or his dad.

Once in his room he grabbed one of his notebooks and wrote a quick message to leave for Jazz. ‘GIW told mom and dad i’m phantom, had to leave the house, i’ll be with a friend, i’ll call.’ he then slipped it under her door and then phased through the ceiling just in time to see the familiar ghost shields surround the building. The agents were by their van, arms crossed, and Danny flew off in the direction of tuckers house, tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

Landing at the corner of Tucker’s street he rubbed his eyes to clear them before walking toward his best friends house. The wave of relief he felt when the house came in view was quickly squashed by the sight of a familiar white van, and two white suits talking to Tucker's parents on the porch. Staying invisible he flew off again for Sam’s house. When he didn’t see a white van outside he was relieved.

He was less relieved to see none of the lights were on and their car was gone, meaning the whole family was out at the moment. Still floating he decided to fly to the Nasty Burger, deciding to wait there until one of his friends or for Jazz to go there looking for him.It was when he was flying past Caspar High when he saw something that gave him reason to pause.

There was a new street there that hadn’t been there yesterday. The buildings were brightly colored, and there were people mulling about wearing clothes he’d never seen anyone in Amity Park wearing. Getting closer, he expected the usual white mist that meant a ghost was nearby, knowing that in a town like Amity, anything weird was probably ghost related. There was nothing. He landed, still invisible and walked quietly down the street, deciding to see where things went.

The multi-colored buildings turned out to be a hardware store, a military surplus hut, and a bunch of other places you wouldn’t expect to be in pastel pinks and purples. Reaching the middle of the street was a building dubbed ‘Peeping Tom’s Perpetual Cabaret’ all done up in bright flashing lights, music leaking out onto the street from inside.

In short, this place seemed awesome, and as soon as he was able to reach Sam or Tucker he was bringing them here. He passed more fun looking stores, and some more adult stores that he knew he was too young for on his way to the end of the street closest to the Nasty Burger, and he stopped when he saw the street sign.

‘Danny St’.

“Well that’s weird” he said, still invisible.

A cloud of steam popped up from a nearby sewer grate with a sound almost like a gasp, and strangely enough it turned into a series of exclamation points and question marks.

“Also weird,” a fluttering sound behind him made him turn to see a pile of leaves spell out ‘says the invisible boy’. Danny took a step away from the pile, waiting for the mist that meant a ghost was nearby. It didn’t come. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a ghost.

Deciding that questions would be an alright distraction from the nightmare his day became he asked, “Who are you?” and another noise from behind him, this time a metallic squeaking. When he looked it was the street sign rotating around. He laughed, and turned back to the pile of leaves, only it was the sign on the window that responded this time, changing its arrangement to ask ‘what’s so funny feele?’.

“My name is also Danny.” deciding to trust the talking street, he stopped being invisible. The steam from before came again, just exclamation points this time though. A rustling sound had him turning right where a banner unfurled to declare ‘Neat Trick Twinsie!’ making Danny laugh. Deciding to ask a few more questions, he walked over to a conveniently placed bench across from a pawn shop.

“You’re not a ghost are you?” he asked, and the pawn shop window grew a question mark. “Oh, right, you’re new in town, considering I didn't see you here yesterday.” waving his hand around Danny continued. “Welcome to Amity Park, the most haunted city in America. My first thought when weird things happen here is it’s a ghost doing something, and I've seen a lot of weird.” The window proclaimed ‘ooooooh’ before another sound had him turning his head left. This time a cafe menu board said ‘Not a ghost, but are you?’

Danny clapped his hands as he said, “Half points Danny, thank you for playing!” the question mark came back so he elaborated. “I’m only half ghost, all the abilities of ghostliness, still alive and kicking.” he then smirked as some word play popped into his head. “Kicking all the other ghosts butts for messing with the town.” he then remembered his current problem, and slumped backwards, his view of his new… friend? Acquaintance? Friend, suddenly flipped.

“Or I did at least.” he sighed. “No idea what i’m supposed to do now, got some fruitloop government ghostbusters after me, and they just told my parents! Who are also ghost hunters!” from his upside down view he saw more letters rearrange across the street, but he didn’t want to parse out what Danny had said. “I was going to go wait for some friends before I spotted you, try to figure things out.” he sat up and turned around, not wanting to ignore a message. ‘Thats rough buddy.’ his face split into a grin. “Its just my luck that the same day all these bad things happen, I also meet a new friend with impeccable taste in memes!” he stood up and stretched, feeling a bit less panicked. “I’m going to go meet with them, but can i bring them back to see you? They’d love your… everything!” the banner from before flipped over ‘that would be dolly Danny! Bona to Vada!’ this was starting to remind him of when he first met Wulf, and learned of the wonders of Esperanto. A fun new dialect was just the distraction he needed.

Waving at the street, a few of the people walking around waved back, even though he hadn’t spoken to any of them. A flag flapped aggressively in a nonexistent wind, and his smile stayed on his face as he turned invisible again and flying off to the Nasty Burger.

It had only been thirty minutes since his parents found out, but his anxiety made it all feel like seconds ago as he sat there waiting. Five o'clock approached and a familiar face walked in, though not one of the ones he’d been waiting for. Valerie was starting her closing shift in ten minutes, and Danny was sitting at a booth waiting for Tucker, Sam, or Jazz. she put her bag behind the counter and slit to the opposite side of his booth.

“Why so antsy ghost face?” Valerie asked with her arms crossed. Their situationship had been weird for a while since she’d found out he was half ghost, but things had been improving lately since her dad got a new job. Guess most of her aggression had been stress induced.

“So… My parents found out i’m a ghost. The Guys in White told them, I had to leave the house, and when I went to Tucker’s house they were there too, Sam wasn’t home, and now I’m waiting for either one of them, or Jazz to come find me so i can figure out the shipwreck my life has become!” the floodgates had opened and he’d word vomited everything to his frenemy, and then promptly face planted into the table.

She visibly blue screened for about ten seconds before she reached over and patted his head. “That’s rough buddy.” he glared up at her for all of two second before snorting a despondent laugh. She joined in and after a few seconds of laughing together he leaned back, smiling a bit more easily since the anxiety had claimed him five seconds into waiting.

“You are not the first person who’s said those exact words to me tonight! I should start collecting nickels, I probably won’t get more than two but it's weird that it’s happened twice!” she didn’t laugh at that, tilting her head in an unspoken question. “You are not going to believe this, but on my way here I found a new street by Caspar High. Just there, new buildings, decorations, the whole shebang!” he flared his fingers out to emphasize the point. “I was invisible, but when I saw the street was called ‘Danny St’ I had to say something. And it started talking back, kinda.”

“That’s a load of bull-” she started before he waved his hands to cut her off.

“Val, after half the stuff we’ve dealt with since my parents opened the portal, is this really too much for you to believe?” she raised a finger and took a breath before closing her mouth and lowering her hand. They’d dealt with a lot of wacky nonsense.

“Valid, but I won’t believe it until I see it. What kind of ghost looks like a whole street?” she asked, but he shook his head.

“That’s the thing! They weren’t a ghost, I would know! When I asked, they didn’t know what I meant. Had to explain kinda about Amity Park being the most haunted town in America.” This time he crossed his arms, leaning back to look out the window, hoping for a familiar red hat, or someone dressed in all black and purple.

Valerie stood up suddenly, and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry this happened to you Danny. My shift is starting, so I’ll make you some fries while you wait. If you’re here till closing, mind showing me this magic street you found?" It was nice having her be this friendly with him again, and he grinned and gave a thumbs up.

“Sure thing!” he said, before the doors burst open and four men in white suits rushed in, guns aimed at him. He shoved Valerie out of the way and went intangible through the wall to the outside. He then went invisible and rushed as fast as he could over the buildings.

He was passing the new, and brightly colored Danny St when he felt a sharp pain in his side, and smelled burning flesh and ectoplasm. Losing control of his abilities amidst the pain, he crashed into the side of a building before flopping onto the street. Looking up he heard loud music and saw the word ‘Tom’s’ visible on the part of the sign he could see. A crowd started to form, but he was too dazed to understand what most of them were saying. A pretty face popped out of the crowd and bent down to check on him. She was tall, dark skinned, in a glittery outfit with big hair.

“Kid, are you ok? How did you fall?” she was checking him over for any open wounds, but he was to dazed to do much. He heard tires squealing in the distance, and knew that the people chasing him were going to be here soon. He didn’t want anyone hurting his new friend, the talking street, or the people that were just now worrying for his wellbeing.

“I need to go, the Guys in White are after me!” he tried to stand but the woman placed her forearm across his chest to keep him from doing more than sitting up. She turned her head, listening to the squealing as well, before she focused back on him.

“Who are the ‘Guys in White’?” she asked, very seriously.

Danny tried to phase through her arm to stand but the pain in his side made it hard to focus, so he gritted his teeth and kept trying as he responded. “Government sponsored ghostbusting fruitloops, now please let me go they don’t care about collateral damage!”

The woman sighed and closed her eyes for half a second before she turned to look at a few people in the crowd. “You heard the kid, we got government on our tale! Danny, we need to leave.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do lady!” Danny said, while at the same time one of the store signs changed from advertising fatigue leotards, to saying ‘Time to scarper!’

“Was talking to Danny, kid.” she said distractedly.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” he retorted, his head starting to hurt and the burn on his side starting to throb dully.

She laughed, a short, loud burst of amusement before she told him pointedly, “Oh you’ll fit right in kiddo!” and that’s the last he heard before a wave of vertigo took over his senses, the buildings and sky around him twisting and folding impossibly, and he leaned over to dry heave and then pass out.

“Jack, we need to hurry before those agents find him!” Madeline Fenton said from the passenger seat as they approached Caspar High. As soon as they realized that Danny had left the house they’d begun their search, especially vigorous due to the agents also on the prowl. They’d seen some agents leaving Nasty Burger and firing wildly into the air, and they’d seen one of the shots land on something invisible.

And then they’d seen their son materialize and plummet thirty feet to land a few streets over near his high school. Jack was driving them there, and that alone was enough to get the agents to pause on their way to their vans. Small blessings. When they neared the high school though they saw something odd.

“Honey, am I crazy or was that street not there last week?” Jack said as they approached.

“I don’t think that matters right now dear.” she rescinded, though it was bugging her as well. She knew they tended to get a bit focused on their work, but that work often took them out on the town. She would have seen something of a new street before now, especially with such charming looking stores.

“Theres people milling about, maybe one of them saw him!” Jack pointed out, her wonderful optimist.

“Lets hope! We need to get him back to the lab to check him for injuries, after that we need to game plan keeping him safe.” she looked down at her lap, her jumpsuit a comforting familiarity. “He’s Phantom. He’s been Phantom this whole time! Oh he must have been so frightened.” Jack parked the GAV and reached over to squeeze her shoulder, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Our kid is a tough one, and just as brave as his mother. Lets get him safe and we’ll figure it all out.” he unbuckled himself, then reached over to undo hers for her. They both stepped outside and as they turned to look down this new street they saw something that made them take a breath of equal parts relief and terror. They saw Danny lying prone with a crowd of people clearly trying to help him. He would be fine.

And then, just before they could step foot on the pavement of the street, everything sort of shifted and folded, the other streets stretching to fill in the space being left behind as the street they were now desperately reaching for vanished. The last thing they saw was their sun jerk to the side, several people trying to help him, and then both he, and the mysterious new street vanished.

#dc x dp #danny the street #danny fenton #fanfic #good parents jack and maddie #miscommunication #guys in white #on the run #hurt/comfort

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sturnina · 8 days ago

Text

🕷 — Spray Cans and Web Shooters

Spiderman!Chris x Delinquent!reader AU

— summary;; when two coincidences cause the hero of the city to come across a graffiti artist…

— wc;; 1.5k

— trigger warning;; none! (yet)

— author‘s note;; idk, this feels more like a full fic than an au. maybe i'll just make it an oneshot collection

The afternoon Spider-Man decides to differ from his usual patrol routine is the day his life changes forever. Naturally, he won’t realise that until much, much later, and even then, he won’t be able to recall what exactly happened to throw him off the rails so badly. But for now, let’s focus on this one afternoon and what made it so special.

It has been a long and exhausting for Chris Sturniolo, “A long ass annoying shit day,” to use his own words. He doesn’t speak them to anyone, instead cursing them under his breath while swinging through the city on his usual route.

The people don’t notice anything being wrong. For them, it’s just another slow, boring work day, with the joyful outlook to a calm evening. Which Chris doesn’t have, not for today. He‘s glad they don’t notice, though, as he continues swinging from one building to the other, through narrow alleyways, all while still keeping an eye out for trouble. It’s his job, after all.

But there is nothing, no one who needs him. He is relieved about this — of course he is, less crimes means less bad people means more good people means more goodness in this world… right? It also means less work for him. Less headache. But he wouldn’t admit that, at least not aloud.

Chris decides to give up. For today, he’s had enough to worry about. He swings back to the alley where he left his backpack and the skateboard before crossing the city again, over to the old railway station right outside the city.

The way there takes Chris longer than expected, but he finally slings his webs to the last transmission tower before landing on the roof of the station. But the second he finds footing, his spider-sense goes off.

He‘s not alone. Great.

Groaning, he crouches down, burying his head in his hands. So much to skateboarding in peace and blowing off steam. Well, he could just find another place. But… nah. Instead, he uses his webs to stick the skateboard to the roof and looks for a hole, slowly lowering himself into the hall while holding onto a string of web.

The first thing he sees is a girl, staring at an empty wall. The lower part of her face is covered by a piece of cloth, and she’s holding a spray can. You see, normally he wouldn’t care. But today, he’s had enough things fuck his mood up.

He lets go with one hand and shoots a string of webs through the hall. It lands directly on the wrist of the girl, pinning her to the wall. The sounds of the spray can rolling over the floor and her surprised yelp are more satisfying to him than they should be.

Your day? Boring, to say the least. The shift at the garage was especially short since your boss decided to close earlier than usual, due to a lack of customers. At least he paid well. It was less than usual but according to your estimate still more than you should’ve got for today’s work. You’re not complaining, though.

The entire friend group is at work still, scattered around the city, while you make your way through the streets. Technically, you could go visit some of them… Nah. You can’t even remember half of their workplaces, why worry about finding them?

Plugging in your old headphones, you fall into a faster pace, half jogging, half skipping through the alleyways. You are meant to meet up with your friends anyway, so you decide to arrive there early. About an hour early. Whatever, passing time on your own isn’t difficult. Especially because you can feel the weight of two fresh spray cans in your bag.

Heartbeat quickening with anticipation, you pick up your pace, now running down the streets until you reach the bike stand where your priciest possession stands. Maybe not your favourite, since you still hope to get a motorbike one day, but definitely the one you worry about the most. If your bike gets stolen, the city sure as hell gets ripped apart until you find it again. That shit cost a ton of money you’d saved over almost a year, despite being secondhand.

Having fastened the bag on the rack, you jump on the bike and start cycling down the street until you find the train tracks. Following them until the street turns into bumpy ground, and the houses around you slowly disappear, replaced by fields.

And then the abandoned railway station appears in your vision, and you speed up your pace, even though you’re already panting with the effort. Standing up on the bike helps, and you feel a cool breeze run through your hair.

There’s a fence separating the station from the road, but that’s not stopping you. After making sure the bike is locked and secured, you grab your bag and turn the volume of the music slightly down while wandering off the road, following the fence through the grass up to your thighs. Quietly humming along to the music as the song changes, you glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re alone before crouching down and cautiously crawling through an opening in the fence. It wouldn’t be the first time to rip your clothes on the spiky ends, but you manage to come out in one piece.

Now it’s time to hurry before anyone sees you. You run along the train tracks until your steps start echoing and you’re standing in the huge hall that once was a busy industrial railway. The company probably went bankrupt or something, leaving it abandoned, you can’t really be bothered to care.

All you care about is the space this place offers. Except for a few smaller, closed-off rooms, there’s just this huge hall with broken windows. Well, some of them are still intact, but they’re mostly the ones higher up, where people can’t throw stones. Not that you would’ve tried.

In one corner of the hall, there’s a mess of old bottles, glass shards and ashes from old fires. That’s not where you’re headed now, though, you’re walking to one of the last empty spots on the wall. You could just cover someone else’s graffiti, but most of the people who come here don’t like that.

Staring at the wall, you take out one earplug to make sure you’ll hear when someone enters, and wrap a piece of fabric around your nose and mouth. After working in a car workshop for two years, you’re well aware that it’s not enough protection. But hey, at least you’re wearing something. And honestly? It looks cooler than wearing nothing.

But before you can set the first stroke with the paint, your arm slams against the wall. The spray can hits the stone with a loud clang, gets repelled and rolls across the hall, continuously emitting a metallic noise.

Your eyes dart up to your hand. It sticks to the wall, no matter how hard you try to pull it away. And it’s covered in some kind of white, sticky stuff, almost like…

“Destroying public property?” someone asks, and your head snaps around. Unheard by you, someone entered the hall. But not just anyone.

With wide eyes, you stare at the figure… hanging only a few feet in front of you. Covered in a red suit, Spider-Man looks at you, dangling upside-down from the roof.

“That’s not very nice, you know,” he adds, nodding to your bag. The other graffiti cans are clearly visible.

After overcoming the initial shock, you’re able to relax your shoulders and look him in the eyes — or, well, where his eyes would be if they weren’t covered by pieces of white fabric.

“What are you gonna do, get me arrested?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I just might,” he replies, his head turning slightly, indicating that he’s looking at the wall behind you now. “But looking at your record, I don’t think that would help…”

Face paling and heartbeat quickening, you let his words sink in. Does he know you? Your voice is tense when you speak. “What do you know about me?”

“Oh, was I right?” he asks, letting out a little laugh. “I wasn’t sure. Was a shot in the dark.”

“Fuck you,” you grumble, eyebrows furrowing. The fact that he guessed it so quickly annoys you. Are you so easy to see through?

Spider-Man shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun,” he says before dropping himself, turning in the air at the last moment, and catching himself with bending knees and one hand to the ground.

“Very impressive,” you mutter sarcastically to cover up the shame that this is the first time you’ve seen him in person. What is he even doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be catching crime in the city, not sticking innocent graffiti artists to walls in the suburbs?

Before you can voice the question, he shoots his webs to the roof and swings up.

“Hey!” you shout, your voice echoing in the hall. “What about me?”

“It’ll dissolve in an hour,” he calls back, sitting on one of the beams supporting the massive roof. “Until then… you can think about what you wanted to do and why it’s bad! Very bad!”

And then he just swings away, as if nothing ever happened. What the fuck?

— tags;; @fallininlust @bluestriips @wh0remikasas (tell me if you want to be tagged <3)

#— spiderman!chris ⚝#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christ sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo

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sfblah · 1 month ago

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The Cleanup Crew - Chapter 4

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

Okay honestly I've already gone a bit farther with this series than I actually thought I would. But hey, I guess that's a good thing. I tried to keep things relatively tame, but definitely let me know if this chapter is too dark or anything like that. Even pulling my punches I sorta wonder if I went overboard. We'll see.

Female sneezes - Cold

cw: Guns, Violence, Killin' gnatzees

Operation "Alarm"

Another day winds down at the Cleanup Cafe. Bucket and Duster wipe down the tables, Mop handles the kitchen, and Kerchief tends to some paperwork in the staff room. Normally kitchen duty would be hers, but she decided to hand things over to Mop when she felt a case of the sniffles coming on that morning. Best not to cook for their guests if she was under the weather.

Over the course of the day, Kerchief’s sniffles had developed into a light throbbing and the occasional “HAADT!-choo…” The last thing she wants to do is read small type and fill out forms, but somebody has to do it. Plus, surely boring business things are a lesser evil than whatever is happening out in the cafe.

The muffled sounds of gradually raising voices force their way around the closed ‘staff only’ door. One of them unmistakably sounds like Duster, but Kerchief can only tell that she’s agitated, and the spoken words remain a mystery. The other voice is unfamiliar to her, possibly a dissatisfied customer.

“hih…”

Kerchief’s breath stutters with a soft whine. Her eyebrows knit, her mouth drops open, and she delicately places a finger under her tickly nostrils, and…

“HAHT!-choo…”

The cafe manager gives the tip of her nose an upward flick with her finger while her other hand reaches for the tissue box on her desk. Her head feels like a balloon, somehow full and empty at the same time. A long, moderately noisy blow into a folded tissue relieves the fuzzy sensation somewhat. As Kerchief gives the tissue a gentle wipe across her nostrils, she notices something odd in the pile of daily mail.

A stark red flier. Kerchief’s headache intensifies as she pulls it by the corner. Just as she suspected: The Church of the Fourth Light. Something something we strongly urge you to reconsider our sponsorship. Something something benefits. Funding. Protection. A dedicated following. Traditional values. German lessons on Mondays and Thursdays.

The maid removes her glasses and massages her temples. Why today of all days? Kerchief replaces her spectacles and gives her nose a gentle but squishy rub with her outstretched fingers. She sniffs and retrieves her tissue, but before she can even consider getting up to alert the others…

BAM.

A single gunshot punches through the buzz of muffled shouting on the other side of the door. Kerchief blows her nose once more. She holds the tissue firmly in her left hand, her right gliding down to her sidearm as footsteps approach the staff room door. Her tension immediately passes when Duster shoves her way through, followed closely by Bucket.

“Trouble?” Kerchief inquires. Duster continues toward the weapon wall without so much as a glance in her manager’s direction.

“Nothing we can’t handle, boss.”

“Fuhh… HAHP!-choo… Fourth Light?”

“How’d you guess?” asks Duster, finally looking back over her shoulder. Kerchief holds up the flier.

“Nice of them to give us an early warning,” Duster grumbles. She opens the locker beside the array of firearms and withdraws two black kevlar vests, holding one out to Bucket.

“Probably gonna want one of these.”

Bucket accepts the body armor and puts it on over her maid uniform. She’s clearly nervous, but also resigned to whatever is about to happen. Kerchief grabs a new tissue and turns her chair around to face her subordinates.

“What was the… hh… haah…”

“I told their bag boy we’re still not interested in their damn sponsorship,” says Duster, ignoring Kerchief’s oncoming sneeze. Bucket waits for her to release the pent up “AHT!-choo…” before holding up an outstretched finger.

“I believe you said ‘if you want me to put the poster up so badly, bend over and I’ll shove it up your ass.’”

Duster shrugs as she finishes velcroing up her vest.

“Yeah, something like that. Then he started going on and on about how he wouldn’t leave unless I debated him…”

Kerchief sniffs and flicks the tip of her nose up again.

“And then you shot him?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t kill the guy. Just gave him a little nine mil ear piercing. He’s probably still in the fetal position on the sidewalk unless he rolled into traffic or something.”

“I imagine his compatriots will be along shortly,” Kerchief sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. A single “hih-!” escapes her, but she manages to keep from sneezing again, at least for now. She delicately slides a finger across her nostrils with a light sniff before looking back at her subordinates.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time. Please prepare to receive our guests with the hospitality they deserve.”

An uneven grin spreads across Duster’s face.

“With pleasure.”

Kerchief turns to face her desk once more. Still too much paperwork to do. Bills to pay. Tissues to crumple. A rifle flies past in her peripheral vision, headed toward the kitchen. Mop’s hand bursts through the door, catches the weapon, and disappears with a tired “thanks.”

“Here, try this one out,” says Duster, taking another rifle down from the wall and handing it to Bucket. “Honey Badger SBR. Stole it off of one of these Fourth Light dipshits a while back, perfect opportunity to turn it around on ‘em.”

“I was wondering why that wasn’t in the budget,” Kerchief mutters. Her voice has picked up another layer of stuffiness, which she tries to sniff away before going for a new tissue.

“What, want me to give it back?”

“Absolutely nahh… ah… AHTD!-choo…”

After thoroughly blowing her nose, Kerchief scootches up to the office computer. The sounds of the old, yellowed keyboard were always pleasing to her ear, especially when her head was otherwise full of fluff. She takes a moment to bask in the warm fuzzies, but she perks up at the sound of a distinct metal container being popped open.

“Put those back please, Miss Duster.”

Duster is crestfallen.

“But boss…”

“No grenades in the cafe.”

Duster pouts, but she does as she’s told.

“Ugh, if you insist,” she grunts, flipping the explosives box closed. “Alright, Bucket, look alive.”

Bucket makes an apprehensive squeak as she follows her senior out of the staff room.

“Just as a heads up, I’ve never actually shot at, uh, people before.”

“Relax. They’re not people, they’re nazis.”

The door to the cafe swings shut, and the maids prepare for battle. Kerchief in particular isn’t looking forward to her fight with the electric company’s web page. Her eyes glaze over as she watches the spinning spinny thing of death on the screen. Will the site load before the shooting starts? Who could say?

“hh… hih-! HAADT!-choo…”

When Kerchief lifts her head after sneezing, the spinny thing has stopped, but everything on the page has been shoved all the way over to the left without any of its formatting. The maid slaps the F5 key and contemplates weeping. But, instead of shedding a tear, she groggily forces herself out of her chair and shuffles to the restroom. Hopefully they still have cold medicine, or at least some painkillers.

Better than nothing. Kerchief chases a pill with a cup of water, then she leans against the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. She knows she’s a respectable leader who has earned the trust of her team, but she’s also a bit shy and unsure of herself. The faint beginnings of crow’s feet and a couple graying hairs amongst the blonde certainly don’t make her feel any better. For better or worse, a sudden fluttery tickle in her nose keeps her from wallowing. Kerchief frantically rubs back and forth under her nostrils with one hand as she reaches for a tissue with the other, and then…

“ah-ahh… AAHT!-choo…”

The sound of squealing tires catches Kerchief’s attention just after her sneeze. Breaking glass and the rapid popping of automatic fire follow shortly. What a pain. The manager blows her nose, drops the tissue in the trash, and makes her way back to the computer. Once again the power company’s website has failed to load properly. With an aggravated huff, Kerchief opens a new tab and instead sets about filing a work order for cafe repairs.

Duster leans back against an overturned table, closing her eyes with a deep breath. Her submachine gun sits at her feet, barrel still smoking from having expended the last of its ammunition, and in its place the maid clutches a Beretta 92 in each hand. Mop has similarly discarded her empty rifle and drawn her sidearm as she keeps watch through the kitchen window. How many goons could they cram into one damn clown car of an SUV?

Bucket lays on the floor behind a table of her own, unmoving save for the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’d taken a hit early in the fight, though it seemed to have only knocked the wind out of her. Duster glances over at her, taking advantage of the brief respite.

“Still with me, Bucket?”

The stunned maid nods weakly.

“Got any holes in you?”

“I don’t think so? None that weren’t there this morning,” Bucket answers, lightly patting her vest. Duster gives a light chuckle and half a nod before turning her attention back to the rest of the cafe. The front window has been completely blasted out, and a couple chairs lay in splinters. Fortunately the tabletops are all steel-plated for just such an occasion, and the row of smiling stuffed animals along the northern wall of the dining room remain untouched.

Duster’s ears perk up at the sound of shifting debris. She peeks around her table to find what must have been the twelfth dude in a gray trench coat pushing himself up out of the rubble. He produces a hand grenade and pulls the pin, but a sudden PNK! from Mop’s suppressed pistol sends him falling backwards before he can toss it. Duster returns to cover as the explosion flings shrapnel at the cafe’s facade.

“Think that’s all of them?”

Mop lightly shakes her head.

“Doubt it.”

As if on cue, a second blacked-out SUV pulls up alongside the first. Duster rolls her eyes and gives her head a hard shake in frustration.

“Futher mucker…”

The truck’s doors swing open in unison, but before the Fourth Light reinforcements can deploy themselves, Kerchief emerges from the staff room with an M320 grenade launcher in hand. Her eyes are completely glazed over as she strides into the center of the cafe, so tired that she may as well have already been asleep. Without a look or a word to her subordinates, she aims her weapon at the newly arrived vehicle and pulls the trigger. The grenade punches through the SUV’s grille and sends it up in a fireball. The heat actually feels rather nice as it washes over her, though it quickly dissipates.

“The cafe is closed for repairs,” Kerchief announces, letting her grenade launcher fall to her side in one hand. “You are all dismissed.”

The manager’s free hand flies up to her face, holding an outstretched finger limply under her nose.

“hh-! hih! HAAHT!-choo… I’m going to bed.”

#OC Bucket #OC Kerchief #OC Duster #OC Mop #blah writes #snz #snz kink #snzfic #way to get political sugar bear

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anxiously-going · 29 days ago

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Body Swap

A transporter accident has left Jim and Bones in a bit of an odd predicament, namely swapping bodies. The outside perspective of his own body, leads to some uncomfortable thoughts for Bones.

Len sat over his own body and began kneading thr base of his neck. There was something surreal about the whole thing, but at the moment, he just felt guilty about it. It wasn't his fault, he knew that much. Transporter accidents happen. He was just thankful it was him and Jim that where the ones who managed to get their bodies swapped.

He and Jim knew each other well enough, knew the allergies and tricky joints and all the little quirks about what caused malfunction in each other's bodies, that the hardest part, up to this point, was having to face each other and be met with the realization that they did indeed occupy each other's bodies.

Unfortunately there was little to do to prevent a migraine episode in Len's body. Jim had been there for countless such episodes, fetching cold packs, meds, water, whatever Len needed. He knew how to handle them from the outside, but the outside he was not.

"Kid, you gotta breathe," Len admonished gently, pushing his hand into his hair. "There ya go, darlin'."

"I dunno how you deal with this," Jim complained, face still half burried in the pillow.

Len chuckled faintly. "It probably feels worse because you're not used to it. It's different from the stress headaches your used it."

"It's worse than the stress headaches I'm used to. Those don't usually make me nauseous."

"I know, darlin'," Len answered soflty, his accent sounded odd in Jim's voice, but he tried not to focus too hard on that. "Meds should be kickin' in soon."

He shifted tactics a little and began kneading his back, just between the shoulder, where he knew Jim tended to carry his tension. Len had been described as broad shouldered before, he remembered the offers from the football coaches, even the basketball coaches told him he'd make a great quarterback when he tried out for the team, but seeing it from the outside was different.

He wasn't sure if it made it better or worse.

He remebered being confused the first time Jocleyn had pointed out the weight gain to him. He hadn't been able to keep any weight on him during his university and med school years, due to the stress of it all. Once he'd graduated and things settled down as he fell into his new normal working thr clinic with his dad is when the comments had started. He'd been confused at first, he'd still been a perfectly healthy weight, probably healthier than he had been before. But Jocelyn hadn't seen it that way.

It was a battle thay only Jim knew the bare minimum about. Just enough to be able to help him avoid relapse.

He'd known it had caused him to pick up some unhealthy thinking, known it had warped how he viewed his own body, but he didn't realize just how much till he truly saw his own body from the outside.

He really was a completely normal and healthy weight. Hell, if a patient came in with the same build and appeared, Len would probably even call them fit.

It hurt to realize how much Jocelyn had done to him. He knew she'd been abusive, of course he did. He'd had that epiphany many times over during the Academy and the early days of his friendship with Jim.

But it hurt that he was still having them. Hurt that he'd loved her so much and she'd still been so cruel to him. Hurt that...it still hurt. Even after all this time, realizing how poorly she treated, him in so many different ways, it still hurt to realize a new unkindness.

He genuinely didn't know if it was worse to consider that the abuse had been intentional or worse to consider she didn't even see it for what it was herself.

"Bones."

Len started, the sound of his own voice calling his name, shocking him back to the moment. He glanced down and found Jim reaching out for him, pouting like an infant, making a face Len didn't know his face could make.

He smiled fondly and laid down, letting Jim snuggle into his arms. He held Jim close and tried not to think about the weight of his own body on his chest, he closed his eyes and reminded himself it was Jim he was holding.

He was with Jim and they were both healthy and that's all that mattered.

#whumptober2024 #no.27 #alt body swap #star trek aos #fic #my writing #jim kirk #leonard mccoy

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malk1ns · 1 year ago

Note

36. things you said but didn’t mean (sidgeno)

tell me you're not over contractgate without saying you're not over contractgate...

thanks anon! the prompt list is here :)

Zhenya’s phone has been going off since the news broke last night.

He turned it off after he signed his contract and got confirmation it was received; he wanted to go to bed without constant interruptions, actually get some sleep after an emotional and exhausting couple of days. He hadn’t been that successful, but he’d at least woken up and for a few minutes been able to pretend that it was just a regular day, that nothing dramatic had happened to him recently, and all he’d have on his phone were the usual drunk messages from Sasha begging him to come back to Moscow early and a few good-morning emojis from Sid.

After he finished his tea, though, he couldn’t avoid it any longer, and he reluctantly took his phone into the living room, hoping that maybe the background murmur of the TV would lessen the blow.

It did not.

The TV is on, sure, but Zhenya had to turn it to mute—the morning news clashing with the constant pinging and buzzing as his phone frantically tried to alert him to every missed call, text, email, telegram, WhatsApp, instagram DM, snapchat, and tweet was giving him a pounding headache. And two hours later, he’s just barely climbing out from under it, deleting the majority of the notifications unread and focusing his attention on responding to teammates and the guys who are still lingering around Miami for the summer. The rest of the Russians and his family can wait—his parents will understand, and he doesn’t care about pissing Sasha off.

There’s one conversation that’s been pushed all the way to the bottom of his iMessages, inactive since yesterday morning. Zhenya’s scrolled past it a few times, but can’t bring himself to click on it.

Finally, when he finds himself actually contemplating responding to fans’ DMs with apologies for making them worry, he forces himself to open the last things Sid texted him, right after their fight.

hanging up on me? seriously?

this isn’t my fucking fault

and now you’re ignoring me? fucking awesome

whatever man. i don’t have to deal with this shit from you. i’m sick of your bs whenever you’re not getting your way. do whatever the fuck you want, i’ll find out what sorry team signs you tomorrow afternoon

Zhenya feels a little sick, reading it back now. He’d been so angry when he’d hung up on Sid, screaming at him like he hated him. Some of the stuff he’d said…he can’t blame Sid for being upset.

There are Flyers fans from their early years in the league who’d love to take notes on what Zhenya said to Sid yesterday.

Sid’s weathered Zhenya’s temper before, though—let him rant and rave and calmed him down with just the right words, and eventually, just the right touch. He’s always known when to leave Zhenya alone and when to engage, just like Zhenya knows how to handle Sid’s bursts of anger and the rest of his quirks. It’s why they work, it’s why they’ve always worked.

Now, though, staring at a conversation that hasn’t been updated in over 24 hours, Zhenya wonders if he finally said something that Sid can’t forgive. What else would have kept him from sending a message when he got the news that Zhenya was staying after all?

Screwing up his courage, Zhenya presses ‘dial’ and waits, holding his breath.

When it goes straight to voicemail, he wonders for a second if he really will pass out.

call me pls he fires off, sinking into the couch and rubbing his hand over his face when the message stays green.

He fucked it up for real this time, then. And now he’s tied himself to Sid’s team for the rest of his career, when Sid’s never going to talk to him again—or worse, he will, but in that freezingly polite voice he uses with annoying reporters and former teammates who have fallen out of his favor.

Zhenya wonders if Hextall would be able to trade him, even with the dramatics of the last 36 hours. Surely someone would be able to accommodate his new, reduced cap hit.

He’s not sure how long he sits on his couch, the TV playing soundlessly and his phone slack in his hand, but when his lock starts to turn, it sounds like a gunshot.

“Fuck,” Zhenya hisses, scrambling to retrieve his phone where it had fallen when he jumped. Probably Seryozha; old man never knows when to mind his own business.

When the door is finally open, though, the voice that floats through from the foyer is distinctly Canadian. “G?”

“Sid??” Zhenya says incredulously, jumping to his feet and almost tripping over his couch on his way to the hall.

Against all odds, it is Sid in his hallway, raggedy in his sweats and with bruise-dark circles under his eyes. He has one of his plain black caps crammed over his head, and the curls escaping from the sides are greasy.

“You’re staying,” Sid says, dropping his duffle. He looks small, shoulders uncharacteristically hunched in, and Zhenya moves toward him before he remembers what happened.

“I’m not sure you see,” he says cautiously. Sid seems skittish, darting his eyes around Zhenya’s condo like he’s never been here before. “I try to call, it’s voicemail. Sid, you’re here?”

“Oh, I was on the plane…I think my phone died while I was in the air, I don’t have a charger, can I plug it in somewhere?” Sid’s fumbling in his pocket. He won’t meet Zhenya’s eyes.

“Sid,” Zhenya says, concerned now, moving closer just as Sid sways forward alarmingly. “Sid! Jesus, come sit down.”

“Sorry,” Sid says faintly, letting Zhenya manhandle him into the living room and down on the couch. Zhenya remembers when they went to pick it out, how Sid had spent hours thoughtfully trying every couch in the store until the salesman looked like he was about to scream, before finally convincing Zhenya that this boring beige monstrosity was the right choice. He’d been correct, of course; this one is big and deep, and even ten years later still the most comfortable piece of furniture Zhenya owns.

“You’re sick?” Zhenya asks, plucking Sid’s phone from his hands and plugging it in. “Need water, maybe, or like, soup?”

“No,” Sid says with a deep sigh, settling back into the cushions and cracking his neck. “I’m fine. I’ve been traveling since last night, I haven’t slept…I’m just tired.”

“Last—” Zhenya snaps his mouth shut when Sid looks at him steadily. Last night, when his contract extension was announced. “Sid, I…”

“No,” Sid says firmly. “Listen. I get you were mad. I��well, I don’t know what it felt like, but I understand. And we both said some things…” He heaves a sigh. “I didn’t mean what I texted you. I’m not sick of you. I want to deal with your shit.” He looks down at his hands, twisted up in his lap. “I…you promised me. Do you remember?”

Zhenya does. After their first Cup, when they’d been so sure that they’d be back the next year, and the year after that. He and Sid had been tucked away together in a corner of Mario’s backyard, passing a bottle of shitty flat champagne back and forth and watching the sun rise. They’d been talking, but after a while it had faded to nothing, just quiet company, shoulders pressed together as the next day arrived.

“You’ll stay, right?” Sid had said abruptly, and Zhenya had looked at him, bleary-eyed and confused. “Here, in Pittsburgh. With me. You’ll stay? Even after your next contract?”

It hadn’t been a question that needed answering, in Zhenya’s eyes, but he’d answered anyway, leaning over and tilting Sid’s chin up and kissing him before whispering, “I stay always. Promise.”

He’d meant it then. He meant it last night, when he put pen to paper and signed away the rest of his playing career. He’d meant it when he was spitting invective at Sid over the phone, too, swearing he’d leave and sign somewhere the front office actually gave a shit about him.

“I never forget,” he says now, sitting next to Sid on the couch. “I’m so sorry, Sid, I’m like, I don’t know what I say to you. It’s such horrible things…I’m not mean, I swear. What do I do for forgive?”

When he looks over, Sid’s eyes are squeezed shut, but there’s a tear trickling down one cheek anyway. “I know you didn’t,” he chokes out. “I know, but…I was scared, G. I never really thought you’d leave me, and then…”

He opens his eyes and glares fiercely at Zhenya. “Fuck you for saying all that shit,” he spits, and Zhenya bows his head, because he deserves it. “Fuck you for doing that to me.” He sticks his hands in his hoodie’s front pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Zhenya goes very still.

“I had to stop in Pittsburgh, on my way here,” Sid says, turning the box over in his hands. “I’ve had this…well, I had ideas, but we haven’t exactly made the most of the last couple of playoffs, so.” He snorts humorlessly. “We might not ever again, so I’m not sure what the point of waiting is.”

Sid flicks the box open. Inside there’s a ring, nestled in satin, shining bright. It’s gold, with beveled edges cut through with black striations, and thick; something that won’t look out of place on Zhenya’s big hands. If he knows Sid, there will be something on the inside—a date, maybe, or even a time.

“You don’t deserve this right now,” Sid says quietly, lifting Zhenya’s right hand and sliding the ring on. “And I’m not sure I deserve to be asking, either. But maybe that’s the point, eh? We’re still here.”

“Yes,” Zhenya says, splaying his fingers out to admire the ring, then folding his hands around Sid’s.

“Yes to what?” Sid asks, a bit of amusement lacing into his voice.

“Yes to everything,” Zhenya replies. “Everything, with you.”

#this one's weird; sorry i had a weird day!#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my writing #my fic

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angel-eyes05 · 2 years ago

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i remember his hands - chapter 3

PAIRING: kang the conqueror x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after a scientific experiment goes horribly wrong, you've been transported to the quantum realm and have been stuck there for the past decade. with no company, aside from janet van dyne, your life changes forever when a mysterious man in a golden ship crash lands next to your settlement. startled with his initial presence, you two have a rocky start. but as time goes on, you two find each other slowly drawn to one another. you have secrets though, and he has a past he refuses to bring up. can you two make it through navigating an unknown world together, discovering any ulterior motives, and stand the test of time in a place where time has no meaning at all?

INFO: slow romantic burn, pretty fast sexual burn, kinda enemies to lovers????, takes place during that little flashback janet has during quantumania, idk how accurate this is gonna be to canon stuff cause i get very confused about the quantum realm lol, reader is in mid to late 20s while kang is in his “early 30s” (ik he like technically doesn't age or whatever idk the lore but i just made it accurate to jonathan majors age and wanted to give an accurate age range/gap/count), y/n will be very fleshed out like im gonna give her everything lol

WARNING: explicit language, smut (minors dni), masturbation (f), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, not a very happy ending (guys aftercare is important)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 2.5k

NOTES: i just wanna say thank you for all the love recently! idk if ill set a specific schedule for when ill release the chapters or not cause honestly i just work better whenever i write when i want without a time constraint so thats probably what i’ll end up doing. if you want me to write a specific one shot for kang or even another character (i feel most comfortable writing for mcu, star wars, the last of us, and stranger things, but if i know the piece of media youre talking about and feel comfortable writing about the character, im down) just lmk! also i decided at the last second this was gonna be a smuty chapter so..yeah!

PREVIOUS PART

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It had been about two weeks since you found Kang at the crash site. Despite the moment you two had when you first fixed him up, you two had very little interactions since then. It made sense though. Both of you were taking your own separate times to heal, you in your room, bedridden from your horrible headaches, him on the couch, still unable to walk due to his foot and abdomen. According to Janet, he hasn’t been very talkative. He would occasionally respond to her comments about how he was feeling, but wouldn’t say anything about where he came from or why he was here. So she just stopped asking. It took a while for you to open up to Janet about how you got here at first as well though, so you understood why he would be all shut up about it. It got you thinking about how you ended up here. How much you left behind. God you wish you got the chance to leave a note or something. At the very least, for them…

You quickly dragged yourself out of that thought, knowing the path it would lead you down led to nothing but wasted tears. It was late at night, and you laid sleepless in your bed, so it was easy to let your mind wander. To distract yourself, you replayed the moment with him in your mind. You were a little touch starved, in that way at least, so feeling Kang’s hand in that sensitive of an area drove you mad. Thinking about it would always give you the same reaction. Butterflies slowly fluttering into your stomach, roses blooming onto your cheeks, and the near uncontrollable urge to touch yourself. You know your relationship was non existent right now and had a horrible start, but sometimes you wondered what would happen if you walked over to the couch right now and started to kiss him. The only thing you ended up doing though was changing your now soaked underwear.

You always felt bad when you let yourself think like that. Poor guy was probably just looking for something to hold while he was in pain. And you were taking advantage of it. Then again, you remembered how he slowly pulled his fingers away from your thigh once you were finished stitching him up, an act that did seem very purposeful. Again though, he might have done that unconsciously. You always sent yourself into this back and forth inner dialogue with yourself about his intentions in that moment. Whether you liked it or not, during the past two weeks, you’ve only had two things on your mind: your pain, and him.

With the mix of your restless mind, the ache between your legs, and your now grumbling stomach, you decide to get out of bed and go to the kitchen to find something to eat. Also partially because you would get to see him, awake or not. To be honest, you preferred him asleep. You could just admire him from a far, without the complexities of a conversation to mess anything up. You crept into the hallway, adjusting your eyes from the dim light in your room to the rest of the house, enveloped in the darkness. Thankfully, you knew the layout of the house well, so you doubted you would trip over anything. You wandered throughout the cabin until you got past Janet’s room and into the kitchen. You didn’t realize how flawed your plan was, it just now clicking that you wouldn’t be able to see Kang in the darkness. You didn’t entirely mind though. Just knowing he’s in the same room as you put your thoughts slightly at ease.

You finally make it to the counter and put your arms out to find something. They land on a round, spiked fruit. Too scared of accidentally cutting yourself if you use a knife to peel it, you decide just to bite into it. Juice drips down from your mouth as your teeth sink into the fruit. Although the food here was no where near as good as back home, you managed to find a few gems here. The fruits were definitely one of them. Once you finish with the fruit, you use the sleeve of your loose shirt to wipe your mouth. You paced the room a bit, still kind of restless. Your eyes still haven’t entirely adjusted to the dark, but you think you have a pretty good standing of your ground. That is until you trip over the back of the couch. You brace yourself for the impact of flying over the couch and waking up everyone in the process, until you’re suddenly stopped.

It’s a hand. No, not just a hand. The hand. His hand.

Again, it stays there longer than it should have. Placed just below where your sternum meets your breasts. You could feel your heart beating faster the longer his hand stayed there. “You’re a loud chewer” Kang finally said. It was more of a deep whisper though. God you loved the sound of his voice, despite the few times you heard it. “You must be a light sleeper then” you replied in a similar tone. Despite still not being able to see his face, you could tell he was smirking. He slowly push you back up to your normal position. The trick was that he didn’t move his hand. He actually tightened his grip on your shirt. That’s when it clicked for you. He wanted it just as bad as you did.

You then placed your hand over Kang’s, rubbing deep circles just below his knuckles with your thumb. Then, he began to pull you by your shirt to the front side of the couch. You followed his hand until he stopped pulling, leaving you in the same place you were when you stitched up his shoulder. You stood there as he began to move his hand down from your sternum. The feeling of him dragging his fingers down your body at an agonizingly slow pace was enough to get your starved pussy wet. Then he got to your hips, where your loose pants rested. He then took his other hand and used both hands to drag your pants off. Once you kicked them off, he went back up to your panties, hooking his pointer finger around the sides of them and dragged those off even slower than the pants.

He then placed his hands on your bare hips, digging his thumbs into them. A slight moan escaped your lips. In response, he placed his finger over your mouth in a shushing action. “She can’t hear you.’’ You were overcome with embarrassment at the fact you were so enveloped in the thought of having sex with Kang that you forgot that Janet was only a room away. You decided now you had to be silent, however hard that would prove to be later. He put that hand back on your hip and helped you onto his chest. You placed your hands over his shirtless shoulders, being mindful of his left one. You pressed your hands deeply into them and began to massage them. Thank god your eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, because now you could see every emotion playing across his face as you sunk your hands deeper into his shoulder muscles. You moved the massage down his arms, making your way to his biceps. They were massive and tough. All you could think about was how much you wanted them around your neck. Ironic. Once you moved on from those and finally made it to his hands, you took hold of them.

You used them to help you take off your shirt and bra. After tossing your bra to the floor, you placed his hands on your breasts and began to grope them with his hands. His eyes rolled back into his head, and as soon as you could tell he was about to moan, you smashed your lips into his to capture it. You took your hands off of his to cup his jaw to fully envelop yourself in the kiss. He kept one hand on your breast while he moved the other one down and began to run circles around your clit. You softly moaned into his mouth with each rotation he made. As each second went by, the kiss became more intense. More desperate. You had no idea how long it had been since he had touched someone like this, and you knew it had been forever since you were touched like this. You two both had some desperation to your actions. Like this would be the last time either of you would experience something like this ever again. Both of you so starved of touch. You needed this so badly, and part of you knew he needed it too.

As he began to circle your clit with more ferocity, you felt the heat in your chest growing stronger. God he had just started and you were already about to come. You didn’t to yet. If you did, that meant it would be over. Lucky for you, you felt his hand pull away from your clit. He pulled away from the kiss ass well, panting. “I need you to help me up for a second” he said. You reluctantly got up, wondering if he was just going to leave you here like this. It was just now that you realized how naked you were. Sure, he didn’t have a shirt on, but you still felt much more exposed than him for some reason. You helped him up onto his feet, also now realizing exactly how much taller he was than you. Seeing him staring down at you like that. Like you had suddenly become the most important thing in the world to him. Suddenly, he turned you around and shoved you onto the couch. You sat there as he kneeled down and began too kiss your inner thighs.

He moved those strong, dry hands of his to the top of your thighs and sprayed them out against them. He dug his fingers into them as he moved his mouth from your inner thigh to your lips. Feeling his warm breath against them in the cold room sent shivers down your spine. You grabbed the top of his head for leverage as you thrust your hips into his mouth. “Look at you” he said in between kisses. “Being such a good girl and getting so wet for me. Seems like you completely forgot about the fact we were trying to kill each other two weeks ago.” It was strange to you a little. You had convinced yourself you wouldn’t be safe in the same house as Kang, and now here you were, completely naked on the couch with him eating you out.

He wasn’t doing enough though. You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you were when he was circling your clit. He had yet to stick his tongue in you, all he was doing was kissing your folds. He was just teasing you again. “P-please” you said desperately. “I-I need y-you d-deeper.” He removed his mouth from your area and moved his hand to your clit again as he talked to you to keep you stimulated. “Oh thats what you want now? Am I not doing enough for you? Because I could stop if that’s what you prefer.” “N-n-no!” you nearly shouted out. “P-please, I-I j-just wanna f-feel you.” He sat there for a moment thinking, fingers still on your clit. “P-please Kang-g.” You asked again, looking deep into his eyes. “Well, since you asked so nicely. And plus, how could I say no to someone as pretty as you. Sitting there so neat and ready for me.”

Next thing you know, he dives back in, his tongue licking all over your folds and into your pussy. Your strangled moan makes one strange noise, but he must have liked it because he moved his hands up to grab deep into your hips in response. God you could stay here for hours. Layed here sprawled out on the couch with him eating you out. You just wish you could moan and whine for you. You wanted so desperately to scream his name out into the world and let it know how much he had you under his grasp. And you knew he wanted it also. But that was part of the appeal of everything. Knowing you had to stay quite. It made it more enticing. But man you couldn’t wait until you had the cabin to yourself. When he could fuck you through your bed properly, where you could scream his name at the top of your lungs, and him with yours. For now though, you would take this. It was enough for what you needed right now.

As he moved his tongue from your folds to your swollen clit, he begins to suck on it. You felt the heat return back to your core as you itched with pleasure, a roaring tide begging to wash from your pelvis into his mouth. The heat of his breath on you, the tightening grip of his hands on your hips, his tongue fluttering over your folds and clit, the soft hums he would make after tasting you. “F-fuck K-kang. I-I-I’m gonna c-cum” you said, the words barely making it out of your mouth without being mixed with a moan. He nods slightly in approval, gliding his tongue over your folds like silk and moving on of his hands to circle your clit to help pull it out of you. Finally, you feel the wave escape your pussy. You grab a pillow near you and release all your moans and screams into as the ecstasy exits you and enters his mouth. You arch your back as he tries to swallow as much of your cum as he can. You’re blinded by the intensity of your orgasm as your thighs tense up and you can hardly move anything, except to move the noises out of your mouth.

Once you finish, Kang stays there, licking off the last of your essence off your folds and feeling your throbbing clit under his tongue. He backs away from your pussy and moves up to your mouth as he kisses you, sharing with you some of your cum. He uses your shirt to clean up his mouth and the remaining bits of cum from your folds. To your surprise though, after that, he tosses the shirt on the floor, stands up, and walks away to your room. In shock, you convince yourself he went to your room to grab you a new change of clothes. Once you hear the door close though, you snap yourself back into reality. Looking down at yourself, naked and trembling (part from the cold and part from the orgasm), embarrassment floods your body. You couldn’t believe how easy you gave yourself up for him. God you knew you were desperate, but you didn’t know you were that desperate. And there he was in the other room, sleeping in your bed. Leaving you there on the couch, laying out naked, waiting for someone to take you away like some fantasy. But there you were. Alone. And really fucking cold.

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NEXT PART

A/N: yeaaaaaaaah, i needed drama so i did that. sucks but i didnt have any other ideas sorry lol. hope you liked the chapter though! this was actually my first time writing smut so i hope i didnt do that bad. looking forward to chapter 4!!! also sorry i didnt really proofread this one either cause it was super late when i posted it so sorry

#i remember his hands #kang the conqueror x reader #kang x reader #kang the conqueror #smut #mcu smut #ant man #mcu phase 5 #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #quantumania #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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teecupangel · 11 months ago

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desmond would definitely be the type to accidentally woo the og fm/otome protagonist AND the harem + bg characters. with the ikemen sengoku, it would be funny if desmond’s route is only unlocked after the mc finishes the entire game and gets all the ending cue the twist of video game protagonist! desmond getting isekaied. His bad route is probably going to be desmond sacrificing himself again :/ …. normal route is desmond just booking it and never finding the truth of who he actually was, rip pov outsider.

Let’s add @artduringclasstime’s reply to the previous post

Those four or so years where I played the Ikemen series religiously just came out of the woodwork to smack me in the face. Sasuke renamed himself after a fictional ninja the moment he went back in time, the STARS he'll have in his eyes upon meeting Desmond. ... and I can definitely see Kenshin going after Desmond. Whether it's for a fight or otherwise, even he doesn't know

Desmond had no plans to do such a thing in the first place. He has no idea why the hell any of these was happening to him.

He doesn’t understand that, because he’s an unknown character, whatever system is in place in the world sees him as a ‘player character’ which means… people have easier time to fall in love with him because of his personality.

I like to imagine that Desmond was given a buff in their affection rating like in the normal mode of “Villains are Destined to Die” where the ‘player character’ gets a 30% affinity already to the possible love interests like a “we’re sorry you’re stuck in our world” kind of apology buff from the ‘gods’ of this world.

Of course, that additional affinity is just there to make sure Desmond doesn’t get on the bad sides of the powerful men from the get go and can still go down or up, depending on Desmond’s action.

Sasuke would be the one to talk about Multiverses and such and how Desmond’s existence could mean that they themselves are a work of fiction in a different world.

Desmond is like “yeah, I get what you’re talking about but that’s not really helpful to our current situation?” which would embarrass Sasuke because he got too fired up about it.

So in this one, they sorta know Desmond’s true identity because Sasuke played Assassin’s Creed (for the history) so Sasuke gives them the idea that maybe a POE is also somewhere here since Desmond’s here.

It’s a long shot but it’s a possibility that they can’t just dismiss.

And that is the start of Desmond’s route. Depending on the player’s actions, the player character would later switch to Desmond for the secret BL route! (Which has a harem ending because why not?)

(Kenshin’s route is more on the side of enemies-to-lovers route with Desmond actually getting a headache over how ‘devoted’ to fighting Kenshin is).

His bad ending is them finding the POE and learning that it can be used to bring them back to their proper time and dimension BUT they will come back to it at the exact time they left so Desmond will return to his world only to die from the device ‘again’. He still goes through with it though because he wants to get Mai and Sasuke back to their time and he believes he’s been living in borrowed time. The normal ending, I believe, is Desmond not using the POE and finally leaving everyone with the idea that, if he’s stuck in this world, he’ll build a Brotherhood somewhere he’s more familiar with: Italy. In other words, the normal ending has Desmond alive but alone in a whole other country with no idea what happens to him afterwards.

The part where Desmond books it and no one finds out who he truly is would work as the ‘failed’ event of unlocking Desmond’s route.

To even unlock Desmond’s route, there would be two conditions:

(1) Finished all the endings for each route.

(2) Start a new game and go to a specific event that lets Mai walk in town (this will show up as a new ‘option’ during one of the early parts of the game)

(3) Choose the “Don’t scream” when Mai wakes up one night with a shadow looming above her after the previous event on condition (2).

If all conditions are done, Desmond is unlocked as a possible route but to get to the Desmond’s route, the choices to develop his affection must be chosen.

The condition to change to Desmond as the main character and enter the BL route is to actually develop his affection up to 30% only but keep all affections to other characters at 29% or below before Sasuke appears and tells Mai and Desmond that Desmond is a character from the franchise Assassin’s Creed.

#this answer is a bit all over the place #sorry #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #fic idea: crossover #fic idea: ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku

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koinotame · 10 months ago

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speaking of that horror protag hero au fic... it will forever remain in my brain. if i was better at writing and at not leaving everything i do a wip i’d absolutely make a p2 of that. and also of everything else you've ever made with her but anyways

ps could i be 🌌 anon ? maybe ?

the hero au fic with her my beloved.... definitely one of the fics i want to go back and edit and post. idk about a part two but i wouldn't mind writing more for the au in general 👁️

i like the way i ended it but in terms of what happened afterwards she probably took you to her house to patch you up. she probably lives uncomfortable close to your home (this is not a coincidence). from there she could've pretended some actual villain came in and killed the heroes instead of her and tried to frame it as you being innocent or wrongly accused, or just owned up to the murders and gone on the run with you. she's not one of the top heroes of the country for nothing though so you wind up keeping her because she is useful despite *gestures* everything about her

and just for you. here's a scrapped & unfinished draft scene i have saved for the original fic (unedited), starting roughly where you get [attacked] by the two heroes looking to arrest you:

"any last words?"

and even though you can’t hear anything properly over the sound in your ears, you gather just enough strength to prop yourself up on your arms shakily and spit onto the guy’s shoes.

you think you hear a scoff before someone (the other guy, maybe) kicks your stomach.

it’s not just your senses that’re starting to slip at this point; your consciousness is close to joining.

there’s some commotion coming from the entry to the alley, you think, but it’s impossible to see anything, let alone focus on it. you slip into sleep quickly.

it’s bright when you open your eyes.

well, bright for someone who was just asleep. it’s not actually too bright, just a decently lit room during the early evening just before sunset.

the second thing you notice is that your whole body fucking hurts. the back of your head pulsates painfully, especially when you move your head, and your stomach feels incredibly sore. other than that, though, you’re feeling much too comfortable to be in a prison cell.

a quick look around the room confirms your thoughts. yeah, whatever this place is, it’s not a prison cell. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

the decor reminds you of something you’ve might’ve chosen when you were younger. it makes you strangely nostalgic, and it makes you want to go back to sleep and pretend this is just some weird, bad dream and that everything will be okay again when you wake up.

unfortunately, your splitting headache prevents you from doing that.

the door opening gives you a sense of deja vu.

her gasps are always so dainty, as if they’re practiced to perfect to seem cute and ladylike. this one, though, feels more genuine, as if seeing you awake is genuinely good news to her.

she doesn’t close the door this time, instead closing the distance to you and helping you sit up.

"how many fingers am I holding up?" she wastes no time in shoving a hand in your face, only retracting it when you cringe and try to push your head away.

"four," you answer anyway, voice croaky. she seems visibly relieved, offering you a glass of water and a pill.

"ibuprofen," she says quickly when you look at it skeptically. "but I can get you a new, unopened one if that would make you feel better…?"

you take it anyway. to her credit, it tastes exactly like the type you usually buy. you have no clue if this is coincidence or not, given that you seem to be in her private bedroom, and you frankly don’t want to know.

she watches you intensely as you drink the entire glass, then sits down on the floor and leans against the bed, leaving only her folded arms and head on it.

you’re pretty sure she takes a big sniff after practically burying her head into your lap.

her hand reaches up to yours and intertwines them soon enough. she lets out a content sigh, eyes still staring intently at you.

"[name]," your name leaves her lips like a content sigh. you immediately stiffen. "who did this to you?"

"how do you know my name."

she giggles, the noise sounding much more sinister this time around. "you’re so cute… I’d always wanted to be your hero, to be the one you’d depend on. but…." a lovesick smile spreads on her face as alarm bells ring in your head. "then you became a vigilante."

her thumb rubs circles into your hand.

"seeing you kick around creeps made me realise I wanted you to kick me around. it almost made me jealous, seeing you hurt everyone else but me."

#asks #🌌 anon

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thornfield13713 · 2 months ago

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For a moment there, Rosie was terrified she'd just met an old friend in this place, and would be forced to kill them for what they have been a part of (Rosie having already found the slack-skinned head in the necromancy laboratory, and the little girl's mind that appears to have been an early subject, and is in no mood to offer mercy to anyone). But then it turned out to be so much worse.

Okay, so- whatever the plan was, Rosie was an important part of it. Not like they hadn't had hints of that already in her meeting with the Absolute, but nobody seems to have a very clear answer about what it was they were planning to use her for. She...appears to have been an early test subject? But then how does the butler play into things? Or her vivisections - was she someone like Kressa here, doing experiments with necromancy to swell the Absolute's armies? The thought of that being where she gets her medical knowledge from isn't a pleasant one, but...looking at it that way, she could almost have deserved what Kressa did to her. She has vivid memories of doing something very similar to some unnamed victim, after all. Strangely, this does not make finding out that someone rummaged around in her insides any easier to bear. Or the fact that her being able to speak and being self-aware is this big a surprise. That's...unpleasant. And here she thought headaches, concentration troubles and not being able to do things her brain insists ought to be easy were the worst of it.

This, however, is about where we get into 'mum, I'm scared, please come and pick me up' territory. Because the idea of Kressa vivisecting her somewhere in her unknown past is bad enough without raising the possibility of it happening all over again.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #rosie fatrabbit

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crossdressingdeath · 2 months ago

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how do you feel about veilguard taking place ten years after dai? it seems like a weird decision for me. (at first i even thought they did this purely to match the amount of real world time that passed, before i realized that gamedev doesn't happen instantly and there probably were delays due to covid so it's probably not that)

like, as you said when answering another ask, it's been so long that there is little reason for people to care or to mention things that happened. and personally, trespasser gave me kind of a sense of urgency, that we have little time left before solas does whatever he does, but apparently it takes at least a decade. i don't know, i just feel like a shorter timeskip (3-5 years) would have been better for this.

I think it might actually be because it's been so long since the last game. They might have increased the timeskip when it became clear that it was going to be a long time before the game was ready to ship (between them basically completely starting over when they escaped EA multiplayer hell and Covid this game is definitely coming out way later than it was originally supposed to); separating DAV from the previous games means the players don't need to have super clear memories of those previous games, because no one in-universe would either.

I'm pretty neutral on the ten year jump, personally. It's good in terms of simplifying the worldstate (which... okay I don't like how Bioware handled it but I really don't blame them for wanting to slim down the variables, just thinking about writing in variations for every single mentioned event across all three previous games is giving me a headache), and since we know from Tevinter Nights that Solas has been active throughout it doesn't feel to me like he was just sitting around doing nothing; he wasn't immediately prepared and it took him some time to get moving, I can run with that. Also, it justifies none of our new companions appearing in DAI; they're all highly regarded in their respective fields, many of them are well known, and I'd argue most of them would have been useful during DAI. Hell, Lucanis is even a specialized Venatori killer. By making the timeskip ten years instead of 3-5 Bioware has created a situation where most of them would've been at the very least way less experienced and well known, and possibly too young to be active in their field at all for the youngest among them (like Taash, who I think is confirmed early-mid twenties and so would've been a teenager during DAI).

#dragon age veilguard #asks #anon

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autumntouched · 2 years ago

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Day 14 of Ode to Phoenix

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!! Hopefully it's been filled with all the smut and/or pairings you could hope for, and this fic can serve as a little digestif

Summary: Hangman has a Valentine's Day gift for Phoenix

Pairings: Single Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

A/N: Inspired by @coraphoenix's comment on Open House. As frequently happens with these, from my head to the page with few edits. Apologies for any mistakes. xx

Valentine's Day Surprise

Natasha knows it’s going to be a long day when it starts with a flat tire. Hoping today isn’t one of the days Bob decided to go in early, she calls him for a ride. It takes him longer to get to her than she expected because her backseater was at the gate when she called and turned around to get her.

Now they’re both running late. She’s on her way to her desk when Fritz waves her down in the hallway. “Hey, Phoenix! Did Hangman find you?” He gives her an exaggerated wink that pulls her up short. What the hell?

“He’s looking for me? Did he say what he wanted?”

Fritz lifts his eyebrows suggestively. “I thought you would know.”

Natasha tries to hide her irritation but checks her watch. She has less than an hour to finish and submit a report before her class starts. “No idea. Tell him I have a phone and he can text me if you see him again.” Fritz gives her a strange, skeptical look that she no longer has time to figure out. “I’ve gotta go but good to see you!”

Natasha has just logged into her computer and brought up the report when Glider knocks on her door. She’s the newest member of the squadron, recently arrived from Corpus Christi. “Some guy came by looking for you,” she says, not at all trying to hide the curiosity in her voice.

“Let me guess,” Natasha sighs, annoyed. “A tall, blond dickhead with a toothpick.”

Glider looks surprised. “Oh I thought—,” she catches herself and tilts her head bemused. Her eyes sweep over the desk, sparsely decorated with a cup holder, a picture of her family, and the picture of her with Hangman’s niece in front of a Hornet.

Natasha is actually curious about what Glider thought because she’s remarkably perceptive. “What?” she prompts.

Glider folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Well today’s Valentine’s Day, Phoenix. You’re single, he at least doesn’t have a wedding band, and he’s looking for you even though he could find your office phone in the directory if he didn’t have your number. So, according to my research, he has something he wants to tell you in person that probably isn’t work related.”

Apparently, Glider has also figured out that sometimes it’s easier to spell things out for Natasha when it comes to her personal life than to drop hints. And fuck! Why is Hangman such an idiot? She’s pretty sure whatever he wants has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day, and he has no idea of the rumor mill he’s set in motion running around looking for her on today of all days. She rubs her forehead, feeling something like a headache brewing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she promises with a groan. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Glider gives her a pitying look. “Or so you think,” she says pointedly. And having dropped that bomb into the conversation, she pushes herself off the wall and strolls back to work.

Natasha needs to text Hangman to stand down, but she doesn’t have a minute to spare for whatever antics he’s going to throw back at her if she’s going to get this report in on time. She works five minutes into her buffer to send it off before class.

Which means she arrives after some of her students but still ahead of the stragglers. Her slides are already projected onto the board, and they’re the right ones so at least it’s now Bob and the projectionist who have her back today. There seems to be an unusual amount of buzz in the classroom, but she chalks it up to an evening of Valentine’s Day plans ahead of them. Until Glider reminded her, Natasha had forgotten today wasn’t just February 14th and a shitty day with a flat tire.

She’s lining up her notes when Murchison calls out, “How come you never told us you flew with Maverick and Hangman?”

Natasha’s head flies up to find everyone looking at her with interest. With his two air-to-air kills, especially now that one of those is a fifth-gen fighter, Hangman’s something of a legend to far too many of the young aviators who haven’t had the pleasure yet of crossing paths with his obnoxious ego. “It never came up,” she hedges, sounding a lot more tempered than she feels inside. “I try to focus on execution rather than who’s doing the execution since any one of you could be in a position to use what you learn here.” A rather inspired and neat answer, if she says so herself.

“Well, he said we should ask you about it because you’re probably not going to brag enough about everything you’ve done.”

She marvels at Hangman’s unique talent to make her want to strangle him at the same time she feels gratified for the way he apparently talks about her behind her back. It’s probably because his head is so big he doesn’t think she poses any competition for him, but still, it’s far nicer than some of the things she’s heard others have had to say about her.

“Let me guess,” she sighs. “He was looking for me?”

Murchison settles back in his chair, a cheeky lift to his mouth. “You just missed him. He said he needed to give you something but had orders to hand it to you directly.” At least that’s more information than anyone else has been able to give her, but how does Hangman know her schedule well enough to anticipate where she should be?

A few of the aviators exchange shrewd looks and smiles, and Natasha considers excusing herself to chew Hangman out right then and there. Instead, she dangles something she hopes they’ll find more interesting than the assumptions they’re making about her love life. “Thanks for passing along the message, Murchison. Since he brought it up, I guess I can go over a few of the details I’m allowed to share about the mission.”

That grabs their attention, and Natasha ends up glad the mission came up because there are some aspects of it that enhance the lesson she planned for the day. In the back of her mind, she makes a note to text Hangman after class but there are so many questions at the end that Bob is waiting for her to go to lunch by the time she dismisses everyone.

You could text me instead of running around base looking for me, she fires off. What do you want? She shoves her phone into her back pocket.

“Did Hangman find you yet?” Bob asks as soon as her attention is freed up.

Natasha stops and gapes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she demands. “What, you too now?”

“Me too what now?” he asks dumbly, eyes wide behind his glasses at her exasperation.

“What are we? Back in the nineties without cell phones!” she bursts out, yanking her phone out again and waving it in his clueless face. “If he wants to see me, he could just send a fucking text instead of making the whole base think we’re having some clandestine affair.”

It is not the time for her wizzo to exercise his sense of humor. “Okay Daphne.” She hates that his sisters introduced him to Bridgerton. “Clandestine affair? We just call that ‘friends with benefits’ these days.”

Natasha makes a furious noise in the back of her throat and storms off for the NEX. So much for Bob being one of the two people to have her back. He laughs and jogs to catch up to her. “So you’re not even curious about what he wants?” he wheedles.

Yes. But, “No,” she says firmly.

“I think it’s sweet.”

Whose side is he on? And he knows what it is? Fuck, it’s too late for her to ask. “If it’s so important for me to know what it is, he can text me. Like a normal person.” It’s bright outside and she reaches for her sunglasses only to remember that they’re in her car. She puts her head down to keep the sun out of her eyes.

Bob, like Glider, gives her some slack. “Okay, yes, but he wants it to be a surprise. And to be fair, if he told you he had a surprise for you today, you probably wouldn’t text him back about it until tomorrow unless he told you what the surprise is.”

So Hangman knows her schedule and her MO now?

Natasha caves and turns to him, shielding her eyes to read his expression. “You promise I’m not going to want to punch him for it?”

“I think you’re going to appreciate it,” he says genuinely. “And you’re not going to want to be grumpy when he gives it to you.”

She keeps checking her phone through lunch, but there’s no response from Hangman. Back at her desk, she pulls up the flight schedules and realizes he’s in the air until late afternoon. She drums her fingers on her mouse, trying to decipher Bob’s clues. What could Hangman possibly surprise her with on Valentine’s Day that she would appreciate?

Their Commanding Officer waves anyone who’s finished their work out of the office early so they can get whatever extra time they can with their loved ones. There’s a race for the door and soon she’s one of the few left, using the quiet to review the latest NATOPS manual. Bob stops by to offer her a ride home, but she tells him she still has work to do.

“So Hangman hasn’t texted you back?” he asks with a knowing smile.

“This has nothing to do with Hangman,” she sniffs. “I’m doing my job.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “See you tomorrow and good luck with the tire.”

“Oh, by the way. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she remembers to tell him before he leaves.

He shakes his head lovingly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix.”

As soon as there’s no chance of him turning around and coming back, Natasha pulls out her phone. Nothing from Hangman. She swivels around in her chair to look outside. The sun’s low in the sky so if he’s still on the hop, he’s been delayed. But it’s not like she has anything to rush home to.

Still, she leaps for her phone when it finally rings. It’s Hangman. “Hello?”

It sounds like he’s running full speed. “Please tell me you’re still here?” he begs breathlessly. What the hell is he up to? Is he running to her?

“I’m in my office.”

“Don’t leave!” he commands. “I promise I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before she can say anything else.

God, this man should be an actor with his flair for the dramatic. But her curiosity is now at full pitch, so there’s no hope of her focusing on the manual. She closes it and plops it back on the shelf. Natasha looks around for something to do so Hangman doesn’t think she’s sitting there waiting for him in suspense like she very much is.

He comes barreling into her office, still in his flight suit and drenched in sweat. He wipes his arm across his forehead before he crosses the threshold and tosses an envelope on her desk. “I’ve been trying to give that to you all day,” he pants, hands on hips while he tries to catch his breath. He winces and hugs his side, leaning into a cramp.

Natasha picks up the envelope. Her name is written across it in large, uneven letters. It looks like a child’s handwriting. She glances at him suspiciously, but he’s too busy trying to ease himself out of what must have been a full tilt sprint.

Inside, she finds a folded white card with two stick figures. The taller one has a brown ponytail off the side of her head and is wearing the same boxy green squares as the smaller one who has a yellow ponytail. She opens the card.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix!!!

You are the best and you are my hero.

When I grow up, I will fly planes and be brave like you.

Love, Phoebe Nicole Adler

Natasha’s nose is suddenly feeling runny and her throat a little achy. Blinking rapidly against the tears gathering in her eyes, she reaches for a tissue.

“Phoebe’s been asking all day if you got her card,” Hangman tells her. “My sister’s called and texted me every day since it came in the mail to make sure I didn’t forget to give it to you so I promised to take a picture of you with it for her.”

And to her dismay, Natasha finds herself crying in front of Hangman. She sets the card on her desk so she doesn’t ruin it with her tears while she tries to scrub them away.

“Damn, Phoenix,” Hangman drawls, very clearly entertained. “I didn’t think you knew how to cry and here you are bawlin’ like a baby over a piece of paper.”

“I can cry and punch you at the same time, Bagman.”

When she manages to clean her face up as much as she can, she holds up the card for the picture he promised. Suddenly the grin falls from his face.

“What?”

His gaze is trained over her shoulder. “Is that always there?” he asks.

“Is what–,” she turns to see what’s behind her and her eyes land on the photo of her and Phoebe from the open house. “Oh. Yeah, I keep that for the tough days on the job.”

When she looks back at him, she’s surprised to see his own eyes have turned glassy. He sniffs. “I know I said a picture but—.”

“Yeah,” she says. “We can FaceTime her.”

Phoebe is dressed for bed when her face pops into the screen. “Guess who’s here with me, Pheebs?” Hangman asks, extending his arm so Natasha appears beside him. She waves.

Phoebe squeals and the view goes haywire with her excitement. “Mommy! Mommy! It’s Phoenix!” she shouts.

Noel chuckles in the background. “Okay, Pumpkin, but she can’t see you if you don’t hold the phone steady.”

Phoebe comes back into the frame, face alight with awe like she really is staring at her hero. Natasha tries not to cry again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoebe!” she says. “Thank you so much for your beautiful card. I love it so much!”

The view goes haywire again, flashing upward at Phoebe, the ceiling, a blur. “She got my card! Mommy, she got my card! Uncle Jake gave her my card.”

Hangman tries to hold in his laughter. “Pheebs, can you give Mommy the phone so we can see you?”

Phoebe returns, this time at a slight distance, with her hands clasped beside her cheek. “Want to see what else I have?” Natasha asks and holds up the framed picture of them.

Phoebe leaps forward and almost knocks the phone out of Noel’s hand. “Is that me?”

“Yep. I keep it on my desk so I can remember getting to meet you.” As dramatic as her uncle, that makes the little girl collapse on the floor and no amount of coaxing from Noel can get her back on her feet.

“Someone’s not going to be able to sleep tonight,” Noel chuckles, flipping the camera so they can see her. “But thank you so much, Phoenix, this made her day.”

“Day? This made my whole life!” Phoebe yells from the background and both Natasha and Hangman can’t help laughing aloud this time.

“This made my whole life too, Phoebe,” Natasha replies, which is met with a muffled, nonverbal scream of excitement.

They exchange Valentine’s Day greetings and goodbyes with Noel and hang up. Hangman gets to his feet and stashes his phone in his pocket.

“Thanks for that,” he says sincerely. “You just made all eight years of her whole life, and I guess I’ve been replaced as her favorite aviator.”

Natasha grins. “I’m sure you’re still her favorite uncle.”

“Going to have to defend that title with my last breath,” he jokes. “It’s the only one I got left.”

It’s several moments before she realizes they’ve been sitting and standing there grinning stupidly at one another. She pushes herself around in her chair. “Thanks for making sure I got the card. I should put it up–.”

“Want to get ice cream?”

Natasha looks at him sharply. “After you ran around all day making the whole base think that there’s something going on between us?” she demands.

Hangman has the common sense to look chastised. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I guess…yeah, I’m sorry about that, Phoenix.”

Maybe it’s the rare apology or maybe Phoebe’s earned her uncle a little extra grace. Whatever it is, Natasha shrugs. “As long as you give me a ride home after. My car has a flat.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s the least I can do after you made my niece’s whole life.”

“That’s something I’m remembering for the rest of mine,” she laughs, but she’s not joking. Phoebe’s card is one of the best Valentine’s Day presents she’s ever received.

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Tag list: @melodiousoblivionao3

#ode to phoenix #28 days of phoenix #natasha phoenix trace fic #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace fic #phoenix fic #jake hangman seresin #monica barbaro #valentine's day #top gun maverick valentine's day

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