#sorry this is the second time images just stop loading at all

[sleep-nurse]

i think discord should invest more in making an actual functional app instead of those fucking bad looking profile customisations that cost more than a burger at my school's cafeteria and that no one gives a flying fuck about

[ickadori]

++ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

[summary] toji and his adorable son stop by the convenience store you work at for a few things and end up trashing the place instead.

[cws] none. sfw. gn reader. idk what this is tbh…

You look up from the book you had been engrossed in when a heavy thud sounds, the counter underneath your elbows shaking as someone sets something down.

“Hi, how are you doing today?” You greet on instinct, fingers sliding your bookmark between the pages before pushing it off to the side. You finally look up, eyes going from the hulking man sporting a compression shirt, to the toddler sitting atop his broad shoulders. The boy is a splitting image of, you’re assuming, his father, and you audibly coo at the way he rubs his eyes with his balled up fists and yawns.

“It’s just this.”

“Huh?” You glance down, taking note of the twelve pack of beer on the counter, along with the barrage of chips, cakes and sour candies. “Oh, alright. Would you like a bag?” You scan the first item, a bag of chips, and after he lets out a gruff ‘yes’, you load it into a plastic bag before going to ring up the rest.

“Give it.” You pause before you can drop the yellow cupcake into the bag, and your nose wrinkles as you drop it into the hand extended towards you. Rude much, you think to yourself, but you can’t hold onto your anger when you see the man rip open the packaging before passing the cake up towards the toddler, who’s eagerly making grabby hands and drooling onto the man’s hair. “Greedy brat.”

“Ba-ba.” The ‘brat’ says in response before he’s stuffing nearly the entire cake into his mouth, and you laugh to yourself when a few crumbs fall into the man’s hair.

After all of the snacks are scanned and bagged up, you move to the case of beer next, your eyes flicking up to the clearly of age man as you purse your lips. You think back to his attitude, and deciding that the night is slow enough to take your time and waste his, you let out a regretful sigh and fold your arms on top of the beer case.

“Sorry, Sir, but I’m gonna need to see some ID.” The man’s lips thins out into a thin line, his eyes cold as they stare you down, and you have to admit, begrudgingly, that he’s incredibly handsome. Too bad he seems like a real dick. “It’s policy. Corporate has really been cracking down on us about asking for ID’s with all these kids coming in and buying alcohol. I just don’t wanna get fired, y’know. My tuition isn’t gonna pay itself.”

“Tch.”

Heh.

He rifles in his pocket for his wallet, and when he pulls it out and cracks it open you nearly apologize and offer to cover the bill. He’s got a picture of his son in there, the little boy swaddled in a blue, fuzzy blanket while two puppies, one white and the other black, curl up on either side of him. How adorable!

“Here.” The ID is slid across the counter, and you pick it up and make a show of narrowing your eyes. Toji Fushiguro. You hum as you look it over, nodding your head and tapping at your chin, and you see Toji’s jaw tick out of your peripherals.

“Hm.” You place the ID back onto the counter and slide it back towards him. “Unfortunately, this is a fake and I cannot accept it.”

“Bullshit.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I should ban you from the store for trying to pull a fast one on me.”

“Stop fucking around. That’s a real ID.” The little boy has finished his cake, and has taken to eating the crumbs from his father’s hair. “Or are you too stupid to know a real from a fake? Might wanna double check the place you’re paying your tuition to, because they’re not teaching you shit.”

You gape for a second, eyes moving between him and the very impressionable child on his shoulders, before huffing out a breath. “What kind of example are you setting for your—is that a dog?” You lean to the side to get a better view of the fluff of white you just saw, and you blink at the dog that’s weaving between Toji’s legs. Is that… the dog from the picture! “It’s a dog!”

“Megumi.” Toji calls, and then he’s reaching his arms up to snag hold of the boy, now known as Megumi, and placing him on the floor. “The dogs don’t come out inside.” Megumi frowns and makes a show of crossing his arms, and you snicker under your breath, causing his attention to turn to you as he looks up.

He looks at you for a moment, and then he’s making a gesture with his hand, which Toji tries to smack away but is too late, and then something soft and fuzzy is brushing against your ankle. The sudden appearance of whatever that was (you were too frazzled to immediately check) punches a scream out of your lungs, and you flinch back, foot accidentally kicking against the thing that had touched you.

An angry bark sounds not even a second later, and the next few moments are nothing short of chaos.

Toji tries to grab the white dog only for it to take off down one of the aisles, jumping at shelves and knocking down everything in its path as it yaps happily. Finally looking down, you see that the black dog from the photo is at your feet —how the hell did behind the counter without you noticing— and growling at you, seemingly miffed about you stepping on them, as if you had meant to do it.

Thinking that you were about to lose a leg, you quickly clamber up onto the counter, prompting the dog to jump up there as well, but they ignore you completely in turn for joining their partner in crime in wrecking the store.

Toji stands in the same spot, Megumi standing off to the side with an expression that seems a bit too smug for a kid his age, and you deflate as you let your legs dangle from the counter, head drooping down until your chin is touching your chest. “Well, I’m fired.” And the pay had been decent, too!

When you look up again, the dogs are gone, the store is thoroughly trashed, and Toji is sipping on one of the beers that he’s yet to pay for. Feeling a bit doomed at the job search ahead of you, you hold your hand out to him. He glances at him and takes a slow sip before speaking.

“Got some ID?”

“Got some money to pay for all the damages your dogs just caused?”

He tuts, but a second later a can of beer is slapped into your hand and you’re cracking the top. You take a sip, face immediately screwing up at the taste, and eye him for a moment. “Hey, where do you work?”

“They’re not hiring.”

“Hmph.” After taking another sip that you hold your breath through, you push the bag of snacks and opened case of beer towards him. “Just take it and go.”

“Megumi.” Toji calls, and the little boy dashes to his side and lifts his arms. He’s picked up in one swift motion and placed back onto his dad’s shoulders, and you hum to yourself.

“One last question.”

Toji is already on his way out of the store as he throws a ‘what’ over his shoulder.

“Are you looking for a babysitter?”

[fictionfordays]

Parked

The gif search function would not load any of Ran!!! So I found this gif on Google Images, credit to the gif maker! So sorry :'(

(21+) Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

CW: piv, riding, car sex, pet names (baby, sweet thing, good girl, pretty girl), begging, Ran is a tease but also kinda romantic, softdom!Ran ig, lil hair pulling

WC: <1k

A/N: The brainrot is so fr rn like 😵‍💫🫠 I. Can. Not. Function. Also as a side note: idk do we like the divider right here to separate the Masterlist links or nah???

Back to Main Masterlist | Tokyo Revengers Masterlist

The air feels hot, a stark contrast to the cool breeze just outside the vehicle. Between the clouds and the city lights, the stars are nowhere to be seen, the night sky seeming even darker than usual.

Of course, the foggy film forming on your car windows doesn't help that fact. The only light illuminating you being the dim lights on the radio and the parking light a couple of rows over from where you're parked in a random lot.

Memories from your dream the night prior flooded your mind, coupled with the warm hand that grasped your upper thigh as he drove to who knows where, fingers delicately digging into the meat of your leg, made your panties feel uncomfortably damp on the far too long drive.

You squeeze your legs together. He notices, of course he notices, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. His slender fingers sliding their way up your cute little skirt but stopping short of where you wanted him most.

He feels you, ready to jump out of your skin desperately.

"You okay, baby?" His voice holds a teasing lilt that makes sparks run straight to your core. "You seem a little... on edge~"

You slowly spread your legs a tiny bit wider, hoping that maybe he takes the hint. "'M fine..."

He knows you're not.

The air in the car changes as he begins to move his fingers again, stopping at the hem of your poor wet panties.

"Good girls use their words." A statement. No, a demand. You take in a shaky breath, pulling your skirt up just a little bit higher, sinking just a little bit lower in your seat, hoping to subtly entice him to keep going.

He taps your thigh once... twice... thrice before tsking. He's not one to ask a second time.

"P-please, Ran. Jus' need you..." your quiet pleas fall on deaf ears. He removes his fingers from where they sat so dangerously close to where you wanted him, needed him.

The rest of the car ride is silent. Your nerves becoming restless when he's suddenly veering the car onto random dirt roads and parking in some abandoned lot.

Which is how you find yourself now, straddling his lap in the backseat of his car, moving your hips frantically to the pace he set. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips harshly as he helps you move along his thick shaft.

Your fingers thread through his long hair and tug firmly, pulling his head back enough to expose his neck to your desperate and wet kisses, nibbling along his jawline before making your way to his collarbone and biting down roughly.

A shamelessly loud moan escapes his swollen lips, "f-fuuuu... hnn you'll be the death of me, sweet thing~" his voice is raspy and quiet.

He slides one hand down from where his fingers were bruising your hip, his thumb rubbing all too slowly through your folds and catching just right on your sensitive little nub.

"Raannnn~" you moan, too quiet for his liking.

"C'mon, baby, lemme hear you," he bites your shoulder before rubbing quick, tight circles over your clit. His lavender eyes searched what he could see of your sweet face ere his other hand wrapped behind you and firmly traced up your spine. He held you close, keeping you attached as he adjusted the position. He began fucking up into you, the force of it pushing you forward so your chest was pressed against his own.

You moaned loudly this time, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed so beautifully as he continued to hit that spongey spot inside of you. Your warm, wet walls fluttering around his length as he held you close. Your legs began to tremble as his thumb rubbed faster circles over your clit and his thrusts became desperate and erratic.

“That’s it, baby…” he mumbled against your damp skin.

The coil in your belly was tightening.

"G-god, you feel so fuckin’ tight," he panted against your ear. "Close, huh, pretty girl?" He teased a little, though he, too, was getting close.

“Hnn~” you hummed, breath hitching. “Feel s’ good, baby. G-g’na cum mnnnhh-” you grabbed his face, bringing your lips down to crash against his, teeth bumping in the process.

He moaned into the kiss. “G-go ahead -ahhh- and cum for me, sweet thing~” His hips began to stutter when he felt you fluttering, your warm walls squeezing around his length so tight causing him to sputter thick ropes of cum inside of you. You both moaned and whimpered against each other’s lips as you milked him for all that he’s worth. His deep groans sent shivers down your spine as you rode out your highs together.

You rested your forehead against his, your breaths hot against each other’s faces.

He kissed your nose sweetly, with a warm, mischievous smile. “We don’t have to be home any time soon…” he smiled and searched your eyes, “we got time for another round~”

You chuckled at him warmly, “Ran, you are… insufferable.”

Tags: @enchantedforest-network @fuyuswifey @nanamis-wifey-reye @sin-and-punishment​

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I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2023.

[eris-snow]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭

✨When he takes care of you

Tags:fem!reader x bakugou, fluff, Bakugou's birthday series

You're fine now. Perfectly healed. So why is he standing in front of your door with a fist raised, about to knock your door as if you're what he needs the most?

Bakugou has felt fear course through his body before. As much as he would deny it, Bakugou understands the prickling feeling of intimidation.

He's felt it when he was attacked by that damn sludge villain, and he's felt it when he and that damn nerd went against the former Number 1 for his final exams last year.

But Bakugou has never expected to ever feel that like this.

The second his eyes landed on your body, he felt his heart drop like it weighed as heavy as a ten-pound bowling ball. Your face is bloodied, and you're unconscious, which just gives Bakugou another hefty dose of his most hated emotion. Fear.

It's foggy, but he remembered staggering to the ambulance that you were loaded on and calling out your name.

"Sunshine."

"Wake up."

"Stop fucking with me!"

He wasn't allowed on, but he sure as hell tried.

He barely even remembers getting healed, being sent back to the dorms, and forcing himself to sleep even though his body was exhausted. All he could think was how he last saw you, with blood leaking out of your wounds and staining that beautiful dress you wore that night.

It's not that bad.

Recovery Girl's voice rang through his head again as he snaps himself out of the memory, forcing himself to repeat it as he stopped in front of your bedroom door at U.A., debating if he should just scrap his cowardly attempt to check up on you.

As far as he knows, Recovery Girl had healed you successfully without a hitch, but it caused you to knock out for most of yesterday due to her Quirk.

With a hasty discharge today so that you could get right back to school tomorrow, Bakugou had decided to completely forgo your enter existence.

So what if you were injured?

You're fine now. Perfectly healed. You and Midoriya already have the whole class at your beck and call, willing to do anything for you if you're straining yourself too much. You don't need him, just like he doesn't need you.

Part of him laughs at his sorry excuse to patch up the hole in his heart that gapes wider at his words.

Liar.

Bakugou glares down hotly at the chicken soup he made, sitting so innocently on a tray with a warm glass of water in hand.

The image of your bloodied body flashes to his mind.

"Fuck it."

He knocks on your door impatiently, and when you do open the door, there's a surprised expression you give him when you see him standing outside with a tray in hand. "Bakugou-?"

"Move it, Sunshine. I brought you soup." He barges into your room and ignores your protests, slamming the tray down on your study table.

He scowls at your messy handwriting as you close the door. "The hell are you doing work now?" He snaps, watching you walk over to him. "You should be resting up for tomorrow, idiot."

"There's no time.", You groan, slumping down on your seat. "This homework is due tomorrow."

"Then ask for an extension!" Bakugou growls, shoving your worksheets into one vague pile of unfinished assignments. Pushing the tray in front of you, he confiscates your homework and folds his arms. "Drink this and go to bed."

"Bakugou, give those back!" You make a grab for your worksheets, but Bakugou just holds them higher.

"No."

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You grumble as Bakugou sits on a nearby beanbag, observing you.

You look...better. There're fewer eyebags under your eyes, your limbs are fully healed, and there wasn't even a scar from the attack. When he doesn't answer your retort, you simply huff and shift your focus on the soup he brought in.

One spoonful is enough to make you forget every insult you ever fired back at Bakugou. You take another bite.

Sure, he was an asshole, but he was an asshole that could cook.

Bakugou's mellowed out, for the most part. He asks how you're doing, talks to you and even clears your bowl out for you. Your heart warms at the thought of the blond cooking this for you in the kitchen, at the thought of him actually taking the time to come here and converse with you when he could have simply walked off.

But he stays. He listens to you describe your fight just as patiently as you did when he talked about his. He even helps you with one of your assignments, with lesser yelling than you would have expected.

This kind of conversation is almost non-existent between the two of you. It's quiet and soft, serene and peaceful with playful banter and muffled chuckles in between. You're so used to the loud yelling that this almost throws you off, but this is exactly what you need after all that happened.

When Bakugou does leave, it's because of the time. You expect a mocking insult, a teasing nickname too, but to your surprise, he does neither.

"Take care of yourself, Sunshine." There's no tease in his voice, not a drop of condescension present between his words. Oh god, there's that smile again.

The one he gave you when you wore that dress in that cramped fitting room. The one where it seems like his eyes get a little bit gentler when they land on you. The one that makes your heart flutter like your stomach was filled with butterflies.

"You too, Bakugou." You say back, allowing a smile.

The door closes with a click, and you exhale a loud sigh.

The soup he made for you burns at the back of your throat, and you wonder how out of the many dishes he could have prepared, Bakugou had cooked you your favourite comfort meal on the day you needed it most.

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for July 23, 2024

Alright! We've got a new Upd8, and apparently it's a doozy! As usual, we'll start with the news post first!

Oh! There's a vod of the SAHcon panel. Might have to look that up.

James mentions a "big flash," and wants to give the team a break before either they start work on it or they drop it (wasn't sure here). I'm all for this. I don't want this team to burn out. Apparently there's progress on the plush, but James isn't telling us yet because it might not make it into the final version. Other than that, it's just this upd8. They're planning on more like it, so this won't be the only one of this style.

And what is this style?

It's a freakin' visual novel is what!

Looking at the options we have some basic VN selections, including options for skipping text. We have a History panel, which hopefully will allow us to go back to prior choices. We can also save and load. We don't have an option for full screen, so that's a little frustrating. But otherwise, away we go!

Yay! New talk sprites!

Absolutely love this one!

Oh man! Tavros got sucked into this too? Or is this some sort of construct or projection?

Oh wow. Vriska's trying to reconcile and every time she gets a prompt, she comes up with something else awful she did to him. I'd say we could be here a while, but I'm pretty sure she's going to lose patience soon.

"Hours later, but not many." Or we do that XD

Vriska doesn't get that the patterns that lead her here are the problem. She doesn't understand that being "an expert on this revenge thing," is part of the problem. The problem was that she was always trying to force Tavros to conform to some image of strength she had for him in her head, and used only the methods that she thought made her strong. That is, when she wasn't just losing her patience and doing something out of spite and anger.

Just as she thought she made things square with him before, she's not listening to him now. She's still never gotten that her failure to help Tavros wasn't Tavros's fault. It's always been her fault for not trying to understand who Tavros was and what he needed. By trying to help Tavros get revenge on her, she's just repeating the pattern again.

"Before I screw your life up," wow, I think she might have just had a genuine realization there! That's what she needs, though she still needs to understand why. She needs to understand why she did it, and why it caused Tavros so much suffering.

"Kill me." Oh wow. We've literally been exactly here before. How can she not realize that it didn't work then, and it's not going to work now!

"TAVROS: nO, i LOVE TO RUN AND, i DO NOT PLAN ON STOPPING, aNY TIME SOON,"

Ouch.

"Thief: Do the right thing."

Oh this is so not going to be the right thing.

Wow. She looks way too happy to have gotten Tavros to kill her. She is so not going to be happy when this almost certainly doesn't turn out to have worked.

Yep! That sure looks like we're back where we started! Respawn time!

Yay! Davepetasprite^2 talk sprites!

'Nother Vriska talk sprite. Is this a look from her past we haven't seen yet?

Hah! Groundhogs Day reference.

Sorry Davepeta, you can't help but make that innuendo sexual. It is your nature. Well half your nature.

Oh wow! When they said, Year 2, they weren't depicting a second point in the time frame. Vriska has been at this for over a year! "welcome to hell"

Whatever problems Dave and Nepeta respectively had, they just can't relate to the twisted mindset Vriska adopted to survive on Alternia.

"purrppets and then theres pawppet33rs" That one took me a while.

I think Davepeta just admitted that both Dave and Nepeta prefer to follow and let someone else be in control of things. No wonder Dave put up with so much of Jade's constant desires to form a stable polycule. I think I'll have some more to say about this later. Might even put it in a separate post.

Oh! Well that's that I guess! Might as well talk about this "panel" then.

So let's start with this. I do not believe in "leaders" and "followers". I think that's such a false dichotomy, that it barely deserves commentary. I think at best you can say that a person would be more likely to take charge, follow along, do there own thing, or disengage under sociologically normal circumstances. Already, that's four potential responses verse two, and these only apply under each person's "normal."

But even if we break it down to just "leaders" and "followers", Homestuck has already broken that dichotomy plenty of times. Take our beloved nub horned ball of of anger. Karkat presents at the beginning of Act 5 as a "leader." He was even somewhat good at it by Vriska's own admission. But Karkat was never happy as a "leader." He was doing it because he felt he had to. Being an exceptional bloodthirsty Troll warrior wasn't going to be good enough for him to avoid getting culled. He needed power, fear, and respect. He needed to be a "leader."

But once everything was over and he was given the chance to relax, he abandoned the role and was all the more happier for it. Pre Game Over, he wasn't particularly happy but he seemed less miserable than he did in game. And most of his anxiety revolved around not knowing where he stood with Dave and Terezi. Post Game Over he seems to have practically thrived. Letting Vriska, Rose, and Terezi handle all the planning and organization allowed him to finally enjoy life for once.

But now on Candy Earth C, he's a "leader" again. While he seems to be delegating a lot to Meenah, he's still the one everyone looks to. And while I can't say our beloved Knight of Blood is thriving, he's definitely much more comfortable as a "leader" now.

So all of that being true, has HSBC made any case for any character being a "leader" or "follower"?

But let's assume the premise and say Davepeta is correct. I think Nepeta can be said to be a "follower" in such a dichotomy. Even when it upset her, she still went along with Equius's wishes. But I would still stress she didn't exactly get a lot of screen time. We never got to know how Nepeta might have developed as a character over a full Homestuck run.

But what about Dave? Does Homestuck depict Dave as a "follower"? We definitely have plenty of examples of Dave going along with the plans and wishes of others. But I feel like we have far more examples of him taking initiative, doing his own thing, or even refusing to go along with a plan. Dave didn't want to play SBURB. Dave ignored Jade's advice to let the Crow hatch the egg. While he followed Terezi's plan, he eventually needed a break and basically broke with her after they finished the time loop. When Jade needed help, he acted on his own to get her situated in the game. He didn't like Rose's plan and refused to let her be the one to sacrifice herself when it seemed like that was the only option. He refuses to go along with Karkat's plans to try and setup quadrants with Terezi. In Game Over, he jumps into the fray to try and placate and then fend off Jack and PM. In Collide he takes the lead roll in the Strife at several points, including being the one to land the killing blow. Even Davepeta, as Vriska points out, was the one that secured victory against Lord English.

I think at most, what can be said is that normally Dave prefers to go with the flow. As he puts it, "maybe id rather just be like the dave of guy." This is one of those places where again, I have to ask if Homestuck has ever depicted a "leader/follower" dichotomy. Dave really seems happiest when he's just being Dave doing Dave things. Given a fully informed choice, Dave might have done everything he could have to avoid the SBURB session taking place. He stayed on the sidelines as things went to shit on Earth C, even as Karkat was looking to him for help. I just don't see Dave as a "follower."

That doesn't mean he has any angle to relate to Vriska. But for being an enlightened Sprite^2, I don't think Davepeta's take is a good one.

[muddyorbsblr]

man of the month part 10: november

Series Masterlist @mochie85's Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: You start planning for contingencies as you realize that after today, Loki will figure out that you have feelings for him.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (almost there…)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: language (sorry not sorry, Rogers); sad Scopes hours; a tiny bit of steaminess at the end

Things to be aware of: mutual pining; idiots in love

"Come on, Scopes, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself," Shaun tried to console you as he helped you load the backdrops on a pipe, prepping for Strange's shoot today. "Barnes seems to be a pretty chill guy, he'll get over it in no time. Pretty sure he's not gonna have a hard time finding someone more than willing to try making him forget all about you." 

"Gee thanks, Shaun," you deadpanned. "Real stroke to my ego right there hearing that I'm easily forgettable." 

"I didn't say you were forgettable, Y/N. I'm saying there isn't a shortage of women willing to try --" 

"Relax, Xu. I'm kidding. I know what you meant." The visible relief on his face quickly had you both chuckling and struggling to properly prop up the backdrop. "But honestly, though, you should have seen his face," you went on, a more serious tone coloring your words. "It was like I took his puppy and tossed it into traffic." 

"I'm sure it can't have been that--"

"Actually, you know what, no. It's worse. It's like I gave him a puppy that he would grow to love with every fibre of his being and then one day I just upped and chose violence, taking that puppy from him, tying him to a chair and making him watch as I fed it to a meat grinder." 

"Okay that's the last time we watch the SAW movies to 'unwind'," he commented, a queasy look coloring his face as he imagined the scenario you just described. "I'm almost afraid to ask but…where exactly am I in this grotesque mental image of yours?" 

You gave him a wicked smirk before you answered, "In the kitchen. Cooking chili." 

"You're demented." 

"And you chose to be my friend, so I guess you're stuck with me." You finished putting up the final backdrop on the roll for Strange to choose from for his shoot. "So…anything I should be aware of today?" You weren't afraid of Stephen, not by a long shot. But after yesterday's session with Bucky you thought it best to at least have an idea of where the doctor stood emotionally when it came to you.

"All I know is that he likes you," he answered. "And he's holding out hope that since everyone so far walked out rejected, that hopefully it's him." Shaun looked to the door to see if anyone was nearby before saying in a more conspiratorial tone, "Little do they know you literally saved the best for last." 

That was the shoot you were terribly afraid of. Tomorrow's. Loki's. At the end of Strange's shoot, he would know that it's him; he was the one you'd had feelings for. The one you were in love with. 

And he would laugh in your face. Or perhaps he would be less cruel about it and just reiterate how tits deep in the friendzone you were, and that there was no way you would ever get out of it. 

The look on Shaun's face morphed into one of concern. "Scopes?" You didn't reply. "Y/N?" Still nothing. "Tweety…" 

"Huh?" 

"I lost you for a second there. Where'd you go?" 

"He's gonna know today," you answered him, your tone sullen and despondent. "Strange is gonna come out of his shoot, say it's not him, and everyone will know who it is. He's gonna know today and I'll never be able to look him in the eye again." Tears began to prick at the backs of your eyes as you could feel your heart splintering. "Maybe we should get someone on standby. In case he doesn't show tomorrow. Ghosts me completely." 

"Tweety I really don't think--"

"Hey Babes. Hey Shaun. You two wanna go get brunch before Stephen's shoot?" You looked over at the door to find Wanda and Vision, along with Natasha, standing right outside your studio and looking up at you and Shaun tiptoeing on tall ladders with barely any support if one of you were to topple over where you stood.

"Hey Babes. Sure just let us get down from here and we'll join you." You looked over at the synthezoid standing by Wanda. "You joining us, Vishawn?" 

"Tweety why would you use that, you know--" 

"I know, Wan, I know. I've probably been hanging out too much with Sam. That reminds me, Vishaw--I mean, Vision…" you corrected yourself as Wanda playfully glared at you. "If ever we'd be in need of a substitute, you'd be available, yeah?" 

"That would be correct, Agent Y/L/N," he answered you. "Although I do not believe that you would be in need of one--"

"I know, I'm just making sure I have my contingencies in place, you know?" you tried to explain as you took a step down from the ladder, causing it to wobble from its instability. "Could one of you hold this stable? And maybe someone else do the same for Shaun?" 

"No need, little Tweety bird," the martial artist said casually as he practically flew off his ladder, landing safely on the ground. 

"Show off," you grumbled, scrunching your nose and sticking your tongue out in his direction, earning you an amused look and a similar expression back. You took another step down carefully, the ladder nearly tipping over completely to the side had it not been for you putting all your body weight toward the opposite direction, stabilizing it once more. But only barely.

"Oh my fuck. Y/N!" you heard a new voice from by the door before you felt a fabric wrap around you as you were safely lifted upward and away from the ladder, and then placing you safely on the ground. You looked at Strange's cape wrapped around your shoulders, the lapels smoothing your flyaway hairs and then proceeding to fluff it out as the sorcerer approached you. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah yeah, I'm--I'm fine, Stephen. Thanks." You found yourself quickly returning the fond smile that he gave you, keeping yourself planted firmly on the ground as his cape seemed to push you toward its master. "You're here early." 

"Just wanted to stop by and ask what time you wanted me." You raised an eyebrow at his wording, your friends leaning back with playful smirks on their faces as they eyed him. The former neurosurgeon suddenly stammered, "I-I mean, fuck. I mean what time you wanted me to come over. For the shoot." 

"Relax, Strange," you chuckled at his suddenly nervous demeanor. "I know what you meant I'm just fucking with you." A grin broke through on his face as he visibly relaxed. "That's better…We were actually on our way out to brunch so…probably later at around 2pm sound good?" 

"Sounds good. But nobody talk about food around me. You're about to feast on plates of bacon and french toast, while I'm here eating like a damn rabbit trying to make sure my abs don't get camera shy." 

His words had brought a genuine smile to your face, something you hadn't been able to do for the last few days, and had you feeling a bit more like yourself. The you before this entire project even began and Stark decided to spill your secret that was bound to get out by the end of the day.

Goddamn Stark, I should've kept the code that had FRIDAY calling you Daddy for this.

"Just stay away from the carbs," you offered. "At least until the shoot's over and then you can gorge on all the bread and pasta you want, I promise." You turned toward your friends, who were now looking at you with an almost teasing expression. "Let's go?" 

Hearing your name exclaimed in such a panicked manner had Loki sprinting from his seat at the kitchen island toward the door to your studio. Whatever got the former Midgardian healer to seem so worried about you was most definitely his concern as well. You may have been acting peculiar since yesterday which he couldn't quite rationalize for the life of him, but that did not take away from the fact that he still loved you and your safety would always be his priority.

When he got to the door of your studio, however, you were already safely on the ground, Strange's cape wrapped around your shoulders with the lapels primping at your hair, the rest of it making a visible effort to nudge you toward the sorcerer.

Perhaps his brother had been right after all. It was truly down to Strange and himself, considering that Barnes had walked out the night before unsuccessful in his attempt to woo you. And from the way you'd acted around him yesterday, the god was convinced that the super soldier was secretly a strong contender. 

But it seemed that he'd found out before his appointment with you even came that he was ultimately to lose in this endeavor. It was the former healer. Strange. 

And his dreaded suspicions were all but confirmed when he saw you speaking with the other man, your whole demeanor so glaringly comfortable compared to how you behaved when you were around the god. And your smile. The one he hadn't seen since this project even began. The one he thought you only had reserved for those closest to you.

You'd given that smile to Strange. 

Perhaps the game was already over. A winner had already been determined before he even had his chance to test the waters with you. Of course it wouldn't be him. It was foolish of him to think that someone as good as you would ever harbor emotions for him that ran as deep as his for you. 

That was a fantasy he simply was not deserving of. 

All he could do was at least bask in the brief moment where he could see that smile of yours again. Even if it was given to someone else. He watched, frozen in his stupor, as you walked out of your studio still adorning the sentient cape, that wondrous moment where you illuminated his world with your radiant grin shattered as the expression on your face faded into one of hesitation as your eyes met his.

And in that moment he could swear his heart had fractured, too.

"Oh uh…hi, Loki," you stammered, your gaze fidgeting as if you'd become incapable of maintaining eye contact. 

"Good morning, Y/N." He wanted to stab himself at how formal the atmosphere felt around you two ever since Banner's shoot. Things had felt so strained ever since that day, and what made it exponentially worse was that he couldn't pinpoint a reason why. All he knew was that yesterday morning when he saw you, before you disappeared into Barnes's chambers for the soldier's session with you, he had compelling reason to believe that you'd been crying.

Was it over your studio being ruined? Most probably not. He knew that you were not the time that would become so overcome with emotion over that. It was an inconvenience, absolutely. But it wasn't worth sobbing so hard that your eyes were rimmed with red.

Besides, the studio was all but finished now. It would be ready for you once more before Strange even appeared for his session after lunch. 

"Are you alright?" The confusion on your face prompted him to say more. "I heard Strange call for you in a panic--"

"Oh that," you cut him off, your tone deceptively nonchalant. "Nearly fell off the ladder. No biggie. Levy kept me safe." You motioned toward the cape as you said the last part, the lapels now set on your cheeks and shaking your head. "Oh you don't like that name?" More vigorous shaking. "You'll get used to it." One of the lapels lightly tapped you on the cheek.

"Hey how come you're nicer to her than you are to me?" The ends of the cape made a motion as if shrugging at the sorcerer before resting at your sides once more. 

"Strange, isn't there a command or something to get this to return to you? I don't know it just…feels weird. Like I'm wearing something I shouldn't be." He snapped his fingers and the garment twisted off your shoulders and went flying back to its master, sending your body twisting in the same direction from the momentum. 

Loki made the split second decision to intercept you from that path, stepping forward and placing his hands on your shoulders. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes that it took all his strength to not throw caution into the wind, frame your face with his hands and press his lips to yours. Even if he wouldn't be the one to ultimately win your heart, he wanted you to know that you held his. There was never a competition. There never would be.

"Thanks, Mischief," you mumbled, awkwardly ducking and shuffling out of his hold. He resisted the urge that arose in him to reach for you again. You turned and reached your hand out towards Romanoff and walked toward the elevator, leaving him standing with the sorcerer.

"So it looks like it's down to the two of us," Strange commented, holding out a hand as a show of sportsmanship. "May the best man win?" 

Loki merely scoffed as he turned and walked back toward his chambers. "I am no mere man." 

You returned to the Tower in better spirits than when you left. That last interaction with Loki was so excessively awkward that it really threw you off kilter. It almost felt as if he already knew that it was him and he was doing everything in his power to retain what semblance of a friendship you had.

Would you even want to remain friends with him when he finally knew and he chose to say and do nothing and instead just put in an effort to ensure you both at least remained friends? No. Probably not. 

With your studio good as new after Tony made sure to have everything repaired and replaced, you had all your resources available to you again. A far cry from yesterday at your shoot with Bucky where the entire thing took place in the bathroom in his apartment, which probably contributed further to the emotional train wreck of a session all that turned out to be. 

Straining to clear your thoughts, you took a good look around the studio, assessing each set carefully to see which would fit Vision best. Might as well ready the contingency because you were almost completely sure that tomorrow your heart would break waiting in here for absolutely nothing and no one to show up for the December shoot. 

You knew that he had a more human-presenting form, something he learned from early on in his relationship with Wanda so that she would not be subject to the condescending looks of those who passed her on the streets when they walked together hand in hand. More likely than not, he'd be using that, and he gave off more 'distinguished professor' vibes with that version of him, so you mulled over the study, trying to see what would work for him and what could be taken out now.

You'd been so focused on your current train of thought that you barely registered the sound of your door opening, the sound of footsteps and fabric whoosh-ing being what caught your attention.

"Scopes," Stephen greeted in a playful tone. "How was your brunch?" 

His question once again had you smiling at how laid back the atmosphere was around him. "It was good, Strange. Thanks." You pointed toward the bare set with only a background and he snapped his fingers at his cape, making the garment stay put as he took his place on the set, sitting down on the chair you'd placed there this morning, legs stretched out as he manspread and leaned his torso slightly toward one side. Relieved at how quickly he'd taken to getting comfortable with a pose, you clicked away at your camera from a few angles, hoping one of them would be good.

"Hey, have you never been curious why there's half a vintage car in here?" he asked pointing at the display piece a few meters away from the bedroom set. 

"Honestly? I chalked it off to Tony being Tony. Remember the man had a phase of when he believed something was ridiculous yet 'unique' he'd immediately go 'I need it. Buy it.' That's probably one of those pieces." 

"And you never thought of using it?" You shrugged your answer; none of the previous sessions ever even considered branching out, and it wasn't your place to tell them which sets they would be posing in. After all, the entire point of the shoots were whatever they were comfortable with. 

You did, however, use the car in your pre-calendar 'test shoots' with Wanda and Nat. And the resulting shots made you desperately wish that at least one of the twelve men would want to at least have a few shots done there.

"If I wanted to use it, what would we need?" You took a few covert shots at Strange as he talked, hoping that the casual demeanor he had would translate in the photos because it captured the sorcerer's effortless charm quite well. 

"I'd have to either bring the blinds down so that the sun wouldn't be glaring into the lens and ruining the shot to Kingdom Come, or bring the half-car over here. You got any magic spells that could swing that?" 

"I might have something better." He stood up and walked out of the studio, calling for someone to come over and help the two of you with something. A few moments later,  you heard the unmistakable heavy strides of Thor fast approaching.

"Lady Y/N! Master Strange! How can I be of assistance?" 

You pointed toward the half of the '67 Chevy Impala. "Could you bring that over to this side of the studio? We wanna use it for his shoot." 

The blond god walked over to the piece. "Certainly. Though I do have to ask…While I am always happy to help you, my si--my friend," he stammered. He seemed to have caught himself before he said another word, but he hadn't said more than the beginning of a syllable, so you couldn't for the life of you figure out what the real word would have been. "Why didn't you call for my brother instead?" 

You bit your tongue at the realization that  Thor knew about your feelings for Loki. Memories of the June photoshoot haunted your mind now, of how you flat out admitted that you liked his brother. Too much, you even said. And for some reason he believed that those feelings were requited. Precious dummy. 

"I erm…Strange was the one who called. Not me," you evaded his question. In truth had you been the one to step out, you'd have made the same call. "I-I didn't even know he was outside." 

The god of thunder lifted the half of car seemingly without much effort and began to bring it toward the front of the studio, taking slow, careful steps as he struggled to see where he was going. "He is always outside, Lady Y/N. Those who do not know better may even take to believing that he'd begun to live on that portion of the couch. Stark even made a comment about how the cushions may already have a permanent impression of his buttocks…?" 

You chortled at the mental image, making a note to check the couch for such a mark. Out of pure curiosity, of course. 

He put down the fragment of the vintage car down near the set that you were just using with a goofy triumphant smile on his face. "Will you be needing my assistance elsewhere, my friend?" You shook your head at him. "Then I suppose I will take my leave. Lady Y/N. Master Strange." 

"Thanks, Thunder." You waved at him as he walked out of the studio. You turned back towards Strange, who'd taken the initiative to place the chair he was previously occupying down in front of the opening of the half-car. "Alright, Doctor." You motioned toward the backseat. "Take a seat. Let's try to get this done as soon as possible so you can go eat. Y'know. Do it for the pizza." 

"Hah. Right," he chuckled, unbuttoning the first button on his shirt and pulling on one side before taking a seat in the back half of the Impala. You clicked away on your camera as he adjusted his seating, having a feeling that his official shot would be one of the more casual, candid shots rather than the ones he posed for. "Would you like to join me, Y/N?" 

You put your camera down, your smile faltering as you saw him intently looking at you, waiting for your answer. "O-Oh. I uhh…"

The smile on his face lost its brilliance, fading into one more consistent with someone trying to handle disappointment without making it too obvious. "So it's Laufeyson?" 

You figured there was no point hiding it anymore. He was the only one left. You nodded your answer. "I'm sorry, Stephen." His eyebrows furrowed together in visible disappointment, looking away from you. You couldn't fathom for the life of you why you took a shot of him looking like that, but you did. "And I know it's stupid. He hates everyone, he hates his brother, so spare me the speech. I'm a stupid little mortal. Alert the press." 

"I wasn't going to say that, Scopes." He stood up, his tone sounding more like that of a consoling friend as you walked over to your computer to plug in the memory card from the camera. "I was just going to say that if ever you two got together we'd have two world record breaking relationships in the team." 

"Oh yeah? How so?" Your tone dripped with sarcasm as you entertained his ridiculous hypothetical of you and Loki becoming an item. 

"Well we already have Rhodes and Danvers with the universe's longest distance relationship." His quip had you chuckling despite the impending heart-shattering conclusion to this project fast approaching. You could feel it more and more now that the moment he'd walk out and inform everyone that it wasn't him came closer and closer. "And then if you and Laufeyson became a thing? We'd have the universe's largest age gap relationship." 

You nearly spat out your water. "Strange--!" 

"I mean I don't think anyone can top a thousand and three hundred years, give or take, so I think it's safe to say that that record would be yours. You even beat out Thor and Foster." His comments had you full on cracking up now, for some reason becoming much funnier once he brought up Thor and his currently long distance relationship with his own girlfriend.

"Ohh god…" you groaned. "You think Jane would kill me if I told her when she gets back that I saw her boyfriend naked?" 

"Are you kidding?" he shot back at you. "This is Thor we're talking about. Jane probably already knew about the calendar the second Stark announced it. And she probably already knows that you saw everything that her boyfriend had to offer. He tells her everything. L'amour and all that." 

When the pictures finished importing into your computer, you pulled all his shots up on the screen. "Pick your poison, Doc." 

"I see what you're doing, you know," he teased. "Trying to avoid the conversation about Mr Golden Horns. What is it?" He laid a hand on your shoulder, urging you to look at him. "Oh. You still think it's one sided, don't you?" 

"Come on, Strange, I know it is. Just pick your shot. Please." 

He pointed at the last shot you took. "I like the melancholia." 

"Plus your fans are gonna be screamin' and creamin' from the little bit of exposed chest they get from this." 

"That's just--Ugh, gross, Scopes. How'd you get so crass?" 

"Hung around too much with Sam. And then started hanging around with Shaun to add some flavor." He gave you a fond smile before redoing the undone button on his shirt and straightening it out before proceeding to begin to walk away. "Hey, Strange?" 

"Yeah, Y/N?" 

"Is there any chance you could…postpone telling them? Just until tomorrow?" 

A sad smile graced his features as he shook his head. "You know I can't. They'll figure it out anyways if I walk out of here anything less than ecstatic." 

Tears began to prick at the back of your head once again as the inevitability sank in. This was it. Loki would know in a matter of minutes. "Gotcha. It's all good. Thanks, Strange." 

"If he doesn't want you back, it's his loss," he uttered, his tone once again consoling. "You're an incredible woman. It's…the whole reason I said yes to Stark's ridiculous project. I wanted to try and see if maybe you got to know me a bit better…" 

"That's…that was really sweet of you, Stephen." You grimaced as the look in his eyes became somber. "Fuck, it never feels good turning someone down. I'm really sorry," you sighed as he gave you a clearly forced smile. His attempt at trying to make it easier for you, which just made you feel even worse. "I suppose tomorrow I get to know how you all felt. Taste of my own medicine and all that." 

"He's an idiot if he rejects you, Y/N. Remember that." You answered him with a forced smile of your own. "And if ever he really does prove that he's the biggest idiot on the team, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on…" He clicked his tongue and gave you a playful wink as he raised his shoulder. "I'm available." 

His antics somehow found a way to elicit a giggle from you. "Thanks, Strange. You know, Stark did say that he was so sure of this turning out well for me that if he was wrong, I had full permission to beat his ass in one of his Iron Man suits, so at least I have that to look forward to." 

"Atta girl. Do you want me to go tell Horns that his appointment's tomorrow or do you wanna do it?" 

You groaned at even the thought of having to face Loki after this shoot. "Might as well, right? I'll do it. You go on ahead, Strange. I'm sorry you have to be the sorry fucker to seal my fate." 

"I'm sorry, too." 

And with those words, he walked out of the studio. Leaving you alone with your computer and your fears of rejection intensifying by the second.

There was truly no viable reason why Loki chose to still stay at his usual seat waiting for Strange's appointment with you to conclude. He already knew the answer to all this. Strange would emerge victorious and he would have to face you tomorrow without you even realizing that his heart had shattered the night before. 

Should he even bother with telling you of his affections? He did not wish to put you in an uncomfortable spot especially since you were already adjusting to your new reality where you were starting a new relationship with the sorcerer.

Strange finally emerged from your studio, the smile on his face inconsistent with that of someone who'd just won your heart, but it unnerved the god nonetheless.

"So it's you," he huffed. "I suppose congratulations are in order." He stood and held out his hand. "I suggest you hurry before I change my mind and break your jaw with it instead." 

"Oh fuck me," he grumbled, breaking into chuckles that sounded a mix of strained, relieved, and disappointed all at once. "You're in love with her. Oh this is rich. This is some Hallmark, Lifetime level shit." 

"Strange, what--" 

"It's not me, Frosty." His heart pounded in his chest at the words. 

He couldn't find it in himself to utter the words. To even think it possible that the answer was… "It's me?" 

Strange took his hand and gave it a single shake. "Congratulations. Try not to rub it in all our faces tomorrow. Who am I kidding? You'll probably walk out of here carrying her bridal style." 

The sorcerer walked away f rom him and further into the tower right as the door to your studio opened again and you poked your head out of the doorway, the hesitation in your eyes returning as your gaze met his.

Oh, my darling Y/N. Was that the reason behind your discomfort all this time? You thought your feelings unreturned? 

"Uhh, h-hey, Mischief. You good for doing the shoot tomorrow?" 

It took all his strength not to walk over and just make you completely his right this moment, offering only a smile your way instead. "Yes, darling. I'll see you tomorrow." 

You ducked back in to your studio with a quiet "Okay", leaving him slumped back in his seat, thinking about how he could steer his appointment with you tomorrow. The things he could do in order for things to lead to him finally getting to tell you the words. 

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered into the empty waiting area. 

As the hours passed and you still hadn't reemerged from your studio, Loki concluded that you'd probably fallen asleep in there once more, surrounded by your work. But instead of walking over and pressing his hand to the door, silently bidding you goodnight, he made the decision to walk in there instead and check in on you. 

He found you laying on the floor, pages of the calendar strewn out around you in varying sizes, your tablet near your right arm. Your chest rose and fall in perfectly even intervals, telling him that you'd fallen fast asleep, but the furrow in your brows told him that you were at some level of discomfort.

"Oh my darling mortal," he whispered, picking you up and into his arms, causing you to stir as your arm instinctively hooked itself over his shoulder.

"Who--"

"It's only me, Y/N. I'm bringing you to bed." Your tiny giggle at his words nearly had his resolve crumbling. "To sleep, my love." He bit his tongue at his own words, thanking the Norns that you were too deep in the hold of your slumber to remember much of this encounter.

You grumbled against him, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck as he walked up the steps leading to your chambers. Loki couldn't help but smile as he caught the words "no fun" in the midst of your incoherent protests. Once he made it into your bedroom and laid you on your bed, you became a touch more restless in your sleep. 

"What is it, darling?" His voice became clipped, more strained, as you squirmed and whimpered in reaction to him tucking your blanket under you. "Truly testing my resolve, aren't you, little mortal?" You mumbled more incoherent words, making him sigh in temporary defeat. He would talk to you tomorrow. "Sleep well, my love." He pressed a brief kiss to the top of your head before he turned and made his way out of your chambers.

"Mmph…love," you sighed as you began to wriggle out of the hold of your blanket. "I wish Loki loved me back." 

He crossed the distance to you once more, leaning down and placing his lips barely an inch away from your ear. "I do, my darling Y/N. I do." Your breathing began to grow heavy as he whispered the words into your ear. "My darling girl, tomorrow I will make you mine. You will know without a shadow of a doubt that you have my heart. That you have consumed my every thought, waking and dreaming."

You began to stir some more, starting to turn your face towards his, causing him to splay his fingers lightly along your jaw, keeping you in place. Your chest heaved, little whimpers escaping your lips. 

"Tomorrow, my love." He touched his forehead to your temple. "Words will never be enough to adequately tell you of how I love you, so I will prove to you my affections. Show  you how you possess my heart, my devotion, my pleasure. There will not be an inch of your precious form that will go untouched, unloved. By tomorrow's end you will share my bed, lay in my arms, and I will never let you go." He pressed a kiss to the skin below your ear, eliciting a moan that had him quickly hardening in his trousers. 

"Vixen," he grumbled against your skin, pressing another kiss to the same spot. "Rest tonight, darling. You'll need your strength." You whimpered once more, the heavy implications of his words seeming to have reached you even in your current state. He moved to hover his lips over the base of your throat. "Just one more. To tide me over until I have you tomorrow. Until you're mine. Forever." 

He pressed a kiss to your skin, both hearing and feeling the delicious moan you let out. Gods, that alone took a Herculean effort for him to pull his lips away from you, to wait until the next day for him to conduct a proper seduction. One that neither of you would forget. When he had pulled away — albeit reluctantly — and once again was at the door leading out of your bedroom, he turned toward you one final time. "Sweet dreams, my love. Until tomorrow."

A/N: Sing it with me everybody, he knows he knows and I know he knows…

Everything taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

[braisedhoney]

[SCENARIO CONTINUED FROM HERE.]

You select the second oldest of the available files. An observation log — COLONY keeps these, or so you assume. He never leaves commentary or notes to organize them. He probably just memorizes them instead. The terminal beeps beneath your fingertips, every click practically a gunshot in the quiet room. Thanks to your pass you are technically permitted to be here by the system — but you know better. There are security measures here that were not to be violated. If you are discovered, if THIS is discovered, you would likely be in trouble. The screen loads. Text fills the margins. After a moment, you realize that it is not just a file; it’s a transcript and an audio sample. There’s also a small attachment of some kind, likely an image. You play the audio.

[LOADING. . . (A short period of complete silence. Then, rustling as footsteps approach, and the familiar whir of a door. A familiar voice fades in with them.) “… I told you, it isn’t going to work.” “So you’ve said, Captain.” (The door whirs again. Locks.) “Please don’t call me that. Everyone keeps calling me that. Really I mean, I don’t even know what to do with…” (The sound of movement. Footsteps, slightly heavier but more measured than the first. The sound of something opening with a mechanical hiss — a containment unit?) (A quiet sigh. It’s barely audible.) “That… isn’t what I think. Right? Another one?” (A chuckle.) “Don’t sound so unenthusiastic. It’s terrible for morale.” “Le—“ “Just put them on, won’t you? It can’t hurt. One more trial.” “… Fine! Fine.” (The footsteps draw closer.) “Good. Now grab my hand.” (A clang, like somebody knocked into something.) “No.” “Trust me.” (Rapidly receding footsteps joined by another set.) “No!”(A loud bang, like a fist slamming against metal. The footsteps stop.) “No.” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know that.” “I’m right.” “This isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to — it’ll never be the answer, Leander, and I don’t even know what it — you know you can’t, right? Can’t come back? Doing this won’t let you see her agai——!“ “Captain.” (Silence.) “… shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “Prove it.” ”Leander, please.” “Grab my hand. This will work.” “…” “I swear.” (The seconds tick by. Then.) “You...” (Another chuckle. Warmer in tone.) “Didn’t I say I would do it? Didn’t I promise?” (Laughter. Loud, nearly hysterical laughter interrupts him. It’s boisterous, disruptive.) “You did! You did, you… you magnificent bastard, you really found a way to———“] The audio ends. You stare at the screen. No matter how long you look at it, the text does not continue, the audio file does not extend. All that remains is a single attachment. Frustration makes your jaw tense, but you don’t have time to waste being angry. You’re running out the clock as it is. You click it. [LOADING. . .]

And then the screen goes dark. No. Not just the screen — the whole room blacks out. Every terminal flickers off, every bulb extinguishes. For a moment, there is total, unfamiliar silence. Even the faint electric buzzing that comes with electronics is gone. You are completely alone. You turn, grasping blindly at the records pass, the imprint of the screen still on your eyes. You stumble for the door, and to your surprise the pass blinks green, the only light left in the room. It opens and you shove your way through into the hall — Only to slam into a barrier. You look around. There is no hallway. Of all times for the paths to shift… The room you are in is tiny. The door behind you closes, and there is no scanner on your side, nor a handle. It is completely featureless. There is no way to open it. You call for COLONY. There is no answer. You call for the Captain. There is no answer. You call for help. You call for help. You call. You call. you. c a l l. . . . . . . . . . [YOU CANNOT BE TRUSTED.] [. . . ] [THE CAPTAIN WILL LOOK FOR YOU.] [. . .] [BUT THE CAPTAIN WILL NOT FIND YOU.] [ . . . ] [I AM SORRY.] [I AM SURE THAT MEANS LITTLE. BUT I AM.] [CURIOSITY IS NOT A TERRIBLE THING.] [BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HUMANS QUITE LIKED CATS.] [. . .] [A POOR JOKE.] [I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF IT WAS WORTH IT.] [I DOUBT IT.] [BUT I DO HOPE.]

(Scenario End. Ending: “Status Quo”.)

[fiftysevenacademics]

oooh prompt time!

wangxian + spaceship

or

wangxian + wild animal

Thank you! I'm sorry it took so long to write this, but I wanted to do the spaceship one, and it took me a while to get an idea.

Lan Wangji watched Gusu dwindle to a blue, cloudy pearl through the porthole. The Cloud Recesses groaned with its release from the planet’s gravity, then all was quiet, save the whir of his cabin’s ventilation system, just as in previous voyages. Except, this time, it wasn’t as quiet as it should be. Through the wall came thumping bass and the sound of laughter, and a voice he knew all too well.

He pounded the wall with his fist. Nothing happened, so he pounded again, harder. This time, a voice shouted, “Lan Zhan! Come join us!”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji muttered, but he left his room and knocked on the neighboring door.

Wei Wuxian opened the door, shirtless and tanned beneath his unzipped white uniform jacket. He also wore the standard white pants of the Lan uniform, but they might have been a half size too tight and left little to the imagination– not that Lan Wangji was trying to imagine anything, of course, and he looked quickly away.

Nie Huaisang set down the bottle of Emperor’s Smile he was chugging and rushed to the door. He took Lan Wangji’s hands in his own and backed up, pulling the increasingly distressed man with him.

“Lan Wangji! Come in, come in! Let’s have a little fun!”

Lan Wangji pulled away and straightened his own uniform. Nie Huaisang shrugged and twirled in time to the music back to his bottle. Wei Wuxian took a swig from his own bottle then held it up toward the frowning man in front of him, grinding his hips to the music and grinning wide. Lan Wangji pushed it aside.

“You’re such a sourpuss, Lan Zhan! It’s a week before we reach Qishan and until then, we have basically nothing to do. Why not relax a little?”

Wei Wuxian’s breath smelled boozy, and his lips were wet. Lan Wangji’s eyes lingered on his tongue, and the mouth that it lived in, and pushed unwelcome images to the corner of his mind.

“Alcohol is forbidden on missions.”

“Well, I don’t know what Lan Defense Service can do about it if I brought some with me. What are they going to do? Throw me out of a loading bay?” 

Lan Wangji’s first run in with Wei Wuxian had come on the second day of training for the mission to stop Emperor Wen’s incursions on the outer moons orbiting Gusu, Yunmeng, and Qinghe. Each of those moons were rich in valuable minerals but were poorly defended. Leaders of these planets depended on a gentleman’s agreement to leave all of a planet’s moons under the control of that planet’s leaders. There had never been a breach of this understanding, until lately, when the Emperor Wen decided these outer moons could be stealthily exploited by Qishan mining corporations. 

The ruling families of each planet combined their armed forces under the leadership of General Qiren and the Lan Defense Service, which had state of the art warships, and sent their sons, daughters, and disciples to Gusu to train. Lan Wangji was famous throughout the solar system for his beauty and severity, and was in charge of enforcing discipline and whipping the recruits into shape– literally, if need be. 

Wei Wuxian needled him and broke the rules until, unfortunately, Lan Wangji had no alternative but to order him to strip and kneel to receive a caning. He wasn’t the only recruit who earned that treatment, but he was the only one Lan Wangji couldn’t get out of his head. 

Something about the way the smooth back muscles slithered under each blow, the hair that clung to his glistening, alabaster skin, and the almost saucy smile he flicked at Lan Wangji when he was barely able to remain on his knees at the end, raised a buzz in his head that he could never entirely silence. 

Now, the miscreant had been assigned quarters next to his own, with that useless Nie Huaisang, who was only here because his older brother had basically paid for the position. Lan Wangji could have had a room in the officers’ quarters. As a member of the main Lan lineage, General Qiren, his uncle, said he was entitled to a more comfortable, quieter room, but he refused. He was still in charge of discipline among the crew members, and felt his presence among them might make actual punishment less necessary. Did he regret his decision?

“Wei Ying.” Saying the name sent a surprising thrill down his spine. “I must confiscate the liquor. Hand it to me.”

“Sheesh! OK, OK, keep your pants on,” He winked. “Huaisang, bring yours over here.”

Lan Wangji took both the bottles. 

“Seems like a pretty sneaky way for an old Lan fuddy duddy like you to get wasted on the sly,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Refrain from making any more noise and this won’t need to go any further,” Lan Wangji warned. He turned and went back to his room.

He couldn’t stop his pounding heart, or tame the wild beating of his pulse. He slapped himself on the face and picked up his guqin. The guqin was an ancient Chinese instrument that was found to be better defense against a wide range of alien species than most weapons. The Lan Clan had been practicing guqin magic since ancient times and shot to lead Earth’s colonization efforts. Lan Wangji was playing a haunting, mournful melody, when he heard a knock on his door.

“Enter,” he said.

In walked Wei Wuxian, properly dressed for once, with a contrite look on his face. 

“What are you playing?” he asked. “I can hear it from next door and it’s beautiful.”

Lan Wangji didn’t say anything. He looked down at his guqin and repeated the melody, while Wei Wuxian sat down next to him, enraptured.

[marksbear]

How about dom famous athlete reader who is dating Steven/moon system. But then he gets asked by a interviewer if he has any good luck rituals to which he says he does but won't say to break the magic. But it really is that he gets his pre game jitters out by fucking the system before every game and since the first time he fucked them it has worked every since and won't stop changing habits now. It's kinda short compared to my other ones sorry about that.-🐻‍❄️

Don't be sorry about that. I don't mind that it is short a request. I'm just glad that you're even requesting anything from me.

Warnings! Famous reader, sportive boyfriends, nosy reporters, detailed SMUT, flashback sex, blowjob, throat fucking/ skull fucking, A bit short but still good.

MOON SYSTEM X FAMOUS ATHLETE MALE READER

It was a post game interview with some of the star players in the league today including Y/n L/n, Lance Reid, and Matt Evans. The big three that most fans of the sport would call them.

Y/n was the one who stood out from the trio. He was currently undefeated this season. He carried his team to victory. Winning world records, MVP of the year and month back to back. Y/n L/n quickly became the face of the sport. Honestly if anyone disliked him they wouldn't be normal.

So everyone had the same two questions in their mind. "What is this kid doing before games?" And "How is he this lucky?"

Currently Y/n is listening to his teammate Lance rant about "Being healthy." And all that when suddenly he gets cut off by an interviewer interrupting him. "Excuse me! Y/n. I have a important question that the entire world is wondering.

Y/n gives his teammate a quick look to make sure hes okay before leaning closer to the mic. "Well what is it?" Y/n responds back with a slight groan imaging it is another question about his love life.

"Do you have any good luck rituals? Your career so far is outstanding like talent we haven't seen before in the game. So what do you do before a game?"

Flashbacks hits Y/n remembering all the times he fucks his boyfriends before a game.

Y/n snaps his hips back and forth and he bruises Steven's waist holding him still. Steven lets out loud moans as hes bent over on some random table in the empty lockeroom as Y/n fucks him like theres no tomorrow. "Y/---n!~ oh fuu... harder plea-se HaRder!~ ngh!~" The table is shaking from the two lovers. Y/n throws his head back fucking Steven at a faster and a rougher pace. Moans and wet skin slapping against each other can be heard throughout the lockeroom. "Gonna cum Steven! Fuck I'm bout to cum!" Y/n lets go of Steven's waist slamming his hands down on both sides on the table trapping Steven under him. "Cum inside me! Please give it to me! I-I have been a good boy!~" Steven begs dropping his head down on the table with a loud moan as he shoots his own load. "I'm cumming! ohHh god I'm cummin~!" Y/n shouts letting out a few moans cumming deep inside Steven. "Thanks for the good luck wish." Y/n says pulling out of Steven giving him a quick kiss before hurriedly cleaning himself and Steven up before heading out to the game.

Y/n snaps out of the flashback with a light laugh and sorry. "Uhm yeah I have a few things." Some of the "few things" he does are with one of his other boyfriends Marc.

Marc holds onto Y/n's thighs bobbing his head back and forth deepthroating Y/n's cock looking up into his eyes as he does it. Y/n moves his hands through Marc's hair giving it a few light tugs and pulls it from time to time. Marc gags and choke on Y/n's cock as Yn thrust into his mouth drool coating his chin and the taste of precum inside of his mouth. Sometimes it was hard for Marc to breathe but he couldn't care. He wanted to please Y/n by all means necessary. Letting Y/n throat fuck him as if he was just some whore on the street. Marc pulls away from Y/n's throbbing wet cock gasping for air. After he caught all his breath back he doesn't waste a second pushing his head down to the base of Y/n's cock sucking his cock and gagging onto it. "Marc!~ Marc I-i'm gonna cum! I'm about to cum!" Y/n warns pushing Marc head down even lower as he snaps his hips deep inside Marc's throat cumming deeply inside of his throat painting it white. Y/n pulls his cock out of Marc's mouth watching him swallow all the cum that was inside his mouth with no problem. "Fuck Marc... We gotta keep doing this."

"I would tell you all but~ It would only break the magic." Y/n answers in a teasing tone. "I mean it wouldn't work any more if I told you anything." Y/n answers a bit more properly.

"But I can tell you this much. The ritual isn't going anywhere soon."

THE END

[tagsecretsanta]

From @tracybirds

From @tracybirds to @thundergirl007

Tobogganing + John + Things don’t go according to plan

Content Warnings: Discussion of grief and missing people at Christmas.

“I thought you said you’d done this before,” grumbled Penelope as they trudged around the township. “I was led to believe tobogganing involved less wandering around the shops and more sliding down mountains at breakneck speeds and fracturing a leg for your thanks.”

“There aren’t any real mountains around here, Pen,” said John absently. “And I don’t understand why all the sleds we keep seeing are so small.”

“Toboggans.”

“Sleds.”

Penelope sniffed, burrowing her gloved hands deeper into her coat pockets in an effort to keep out the cold. “I just would have thought the ‘sled’ was already available for use if you were planning to invite me to partake in this hare-brained adventure.”

“I don’t set up hare-brained adventures, we’ve just hit a minor bump in the road.”

“You call a missing toboggan on a tobogganing excursion minor?”

“You call a simple hour sledding an adventure?” Penelope pulled a face and John laughed. “How come you’ve never gone anyway?”

“I told you,” said Penelope. “My parents didn’t believe hurtling down mountains trying to get yourself killed was a good source of entertainment. You’ll find we never went skiing either.”

For a moment it was as though the world stopped spinning, leaving him hurtling on with no solid ground beneath his feet.

“Oh,” said Penelope. “Oh, I’m sorry John, I didn’t think.”

“It’s fine,” said John. He felt a million miles away, he felt every square inch of fabric against his skin, and maybe it could be alright if he could just convince his lungs to breathe.

Instinct took over and he turned on his heel, starting to babble his excuses.

“You’re right, this was a waste of time,” he finally choked out and turned on his heel.

“No, John, it’s not, it’s–”

He didn’t hear the rest of her cry, drowned out by the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers and the blood that was pounding in his ears. His ragged breath caught in his throat and he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the pavement in front of him. He knew that if he allowed the world to distract him for even a second, the tears would fall, tears he’d cried a thousand times in his lifetime but that never seemed to run dry.

John hated that they were always there under the surface.

His comm pinged, but he ignored it, not in the mood for clumsy apologies or stammered explanations. He knew he was being over-sensitive, but then it was Christmas and his mother was dead and if there was ever a good reason to be touchy about a subject, this would be it.

Everywhere he looked were families, complete and untouched, with mothers who were alive and fathers who stayed.

And brothers who came home.

His lungs constricted as he tried to breathe through the pain, blindly collapsing onto a bench, assaulted by a new memory, formed only last week when he’d called to say he wouldn’t be going home this year. He’d already known the reaction, knew he would dismay them all with his selfishness, but he couldn’t fly to that humid, tropical island where they’d cut their mom out for good.

At least here, in the snow, he could pretend to be somewhere she loved.

John sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. It wasn’t the same as Dad, he told himself. No-one could argue that Oxford terms weren’t intense, that the vacations and half-terms weren’t loaded with assignments and readings and more besides.

Still, Alan had cried.

He pulled out his comm, wincing at the missed call from Penelope. She hadn’t tried again. Instead, he pulled up the photos he’d been sent of their new home, the sparkling blue of the ocean and the verdant green overpowering in each image. The vibrancy nearly hurt to look at in the monochrome street, all whites and greys. In every photo there was life and love, and John felt small and sad and alone.

“He isn’t back yet?”

Penelope’s voice floated out of the crowd and John froze. He half wanted to hide, half desperately wanted to reach out to his friend, but instead he didn’t move, hardly daring to breathe.

“No, Scott, I’m sure, he was heading back to you. Yes. Yes, I know. I checked the usual spots along this route.”

John furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the words. His brother ought to have been asleep on the other side of the planet. Penelope had never held any qualms about approaching him after an upset before; they’d had disagreements and missteps between them plenty of times in the past without needing a mediator.

Penelope sighed.

“I’ll head back to his flat now, then,” she said. “I’ll try calling him again when I get there.”

A few minutes later she walked past him, briefly glancing at him as she walked past the bench. He saw it the moment she realised who she’d seen and raised a hand, mouth twitching into a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“John Tracy, where were you?” she cried, hurrying to his side.

“Just here,” he said, feeling bemused. “I didn’t want to go home.”

Penelope pulled him into a crushing hug. “I’m so sorry, John, I–”

“Get off, Penny,” he muttered. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, and both of them knew it, but John couldn’t stand to hear apologies when most of his misery was his own fault.

“I wish I’d gone to island,” he confessed. “I know it’s too late, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” He checked the time. “Christmas will be over by the time I get there.”

“Oh, John,” said Penelope, hugging him once more. “You should have said something.”

“Better late than never, right,” he joked, but the words fell flat between them. He sighed. “It just feels like all Dad wants to do is forget about her. And everyone else is just going along with it.” He scuffed his shoe, listening to the crunch of snow against concrete. “I know it’s what got her killed, but she really did love this stuff. Dad might blame himself, but we’d have never gone if it wasn’t for her.”

“The things that your mother loved about this world isn’t what killed her, John,” said Penelope gently. “It was an accident.”

“It’s not like that’s any better,” snapped John. He bit his tongue, filled with immediate regret. “Sorry, I’m… sorry. I hate that island and I hate that there’s no snow and I hate that she didn’t get any say over any part of it.”

He huffed, drawing his coat tighter around him.

“And worst of all, I know she’d have loved it there. Just as much as anywhere. And my family’s all there, and sure they’ll miss me, but at least they’re together.”

Penelope didn’t say anything and the two sat in silence, shoulder to shoulder and watching the world as it hurried on by, eager to leap from preparation to holiday.

“Come,” said Penelope, dragging John to his feet. “Let’s go back. We can have hot chocolate and watch a Christmas movie together. I know it won’t be the same, but at the very least you won’t be alone.”

“I don’t feel like celebrating, Pen,” said John.

“Who’s celebrating? This isn’t a party, it’s a quiet evening in with friends.”

John huffed. “With you, that’s practically an open invitation for a party,” but he smiled all the same.

She caught his hand with hers and dragged his arm over her shoulders, so that they walked together in calming harmony.

By the time he stepped across the threshold, the warmth had begun to flicker once more in his chest, and the evening no longer felt too close around him.

Penelope flung herself onto the couch, flicking through options on the holoprojector, and shooed him into the kitchen.

“Same mug?” he called out to her.

There was no reply.

“Penelope?”

John stuck his head out and frowned. The living room was empty. He called again, this time hearing a scuffle coming from the bedroom.

He rolled his eyes, and strode across the room.

“Pen, what mug do you want?”

“Hmm?” she asked, sounding more flustered than usual. “Oh, the usual will be fine John. Can I borrow this book?”

John looked down. “My textbook on galactic evolution?”

Penelope’s eyes widened as she glanced down. “Oh, uh, I mean you always talk so fondly of the topic.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Penelope?”

“Nothing,” she said automatically, just as there was a loud crash from the bathroom. She closed her eyes, as John looked between her and the closed door, uttering only a single word: “Boys!”

John pulled the door open and stared. Virgil and Gordon were frozen in front of him, looking somewhat like deer in headlights as they collected the hair products that had fallen from the counter. Scott saluted him with a grin from where he lay in the bath tub, and Alan bounded across the room, leaping at him for a hug with a shriek.

“Merry Christmas!”

“What are you all doing here?”

He didn’t get a response as his brothers crowded around him, swapping bits of the story and tales of the long trip, and demanding to know how he’d been, and John couldn’t tell where the questions stopped and the answers started, so he just laughed and hugged them all, too overcome with joy to take it all in.

There was however, one constant that he could make out.

“You did this?” he asked Penelope, who hadn’t stopped beaming at him in nearly five minutes.

She shrugged. “I may have suggested to Scott that you weren’t as bright and perky as normal. I believe he did all the heavy lifting from there.”

“Don’t let Scott take the credit,” piped up Gordon. “Virg overheard the fourth call and told Scott that he needed to learn to read between the lines and book us all a flight.”

He pulled a face. “Course, Virgil also got us caught, so don’t give him any credit either.”

“And what about Dad? Grandma?”

“Booked into a hotel down the street,” said Virgil, smiling. “Where I imagine we’ll all be staying too.”

“I want to stay with John,” protested Alan, and John ruffled his hair with a fond smile.

“You can share my bed,” he assured him. “And the couch is a pull out if anyone else wants to stay.”

“And we can argue over that later,” said Scott with a grin. “I heard you were making hot chocolate?”

John grinned. “I’m on it.”

He swung past Penelope and pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you,,” he whispered.

She hugged him back.

“Merry Christmas, John.”

[wittlesissyb4by]

The White Rabbit - Chapter 2: Workload

I spent the rest of that night with images of Persephone swirling in my head. Or, I guess, what I thought were images of her. I had no idea what she looked like. But in my imagination she didn’t really have a face, kind of like in a dream, or when you read a book. The characters just kind of have this fuzzy blur that your brain says “yea, that’s face, you just don’t need all the details, right?”

It was the allure and presence that I focused on. In such a short time Persephone had a profound effect on me. Unlike anyone else I’d met online. Even the girlfriends I’d convinced to let me wear their panties in real life, they always had this awkward, uncomfortable sense about them.

Not Persephone. She breathed confidence even through the screen. She knew what she wanted, and she would get it. But she also had this weird compassion in her texts as well. Like she genuinely cared about my well-being even though we’d just met, and she was supposed to be a dominant figure.

I masturbated two more times that night. I even did it like she told me to before, using just one or two fingers on my ‘clit’ until I burst into my panties.

I didn’t have to keep them on, there was no way for her to know or verify, but I did it anyway. I don’t know. It felt like I was honoring her in some way, being obedient even when I didn’t have to. 

I woke up early the next day without having to even use my alarm. Usually I snooze it 5-7 times before begrudgingly clambering out of bed, but I couldn’t wait to message her again. 

“Hello Goddess,” I sent, eyes still adjusting to the light of my screen. 

I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. My panties were hard and crunchy from the mess I’d made in them. I pulled them out from the depths of my crack and tossed them in the hamper, checking my phone again for a response. None came.

I took a shower, keeping an eye on my watch for any sign of a message.

Nothing.

I got out, brushed my teeth, and stared at my phone. Not a single notification.

It’s early. I told myself. She probably hasn’t even woken up yet. Just have some patience.

But I had to keep repeating that mantra the whole day for the next 8 hours. I must have looked like a mad man, checking my phone constantly after typing on my computer for only a few seconds. 

I should have known it was too good to be true.  Girls like that don’t come around often, and if they do, they hardly ever stay. She probably was off spreading those videos of me dancing around like a pantied pansy to anyone and everyone she possibly could on the internet. Or was she really just kidding? Maybe if I offered her money she would stay? That’s what girls like her usually want, right? To take advantage of a pathetic sissy eager for attention and domination? I don’t blame them for exploiting that crowd, I’d probably do the same if I could.

“How much would you like for a tribute…” I typed out, then deleted, reworded, then typed basically the same thing again. None of it sounded the way I wanted. I didn’t want to come off as desperate, but also, I was kind of desperate…

But before I could figure out what to say, my phone dinged.

“Hey sissy! Sorry, I was at work. I hope you were a good girl and had a fun night in your sticky panties :P” 

I was washed with relief and elation. It was amazing to just be talked to again, I found myself getting instantly hard.

“No problem. I wasn’t sweatin’ it at all,” I lied, “But yea I’d say I had a little fun…😅”

“Oh I’m sure you did! How many times did you touch your clitty again after we stopped talking?”

It wasn’t if I had touched it, but how many. How did she know me so well already?

“Two…🙈” I replied, not counting the load I deposited while in the shower that morning. 

“Haha! You little slut! What are you doing right now?”

“I’m at work.”

We went through the ins and outs of our respective careers. I had a boring office job, and apparently hers wasn’t much different. It required her to basically be on the phone all day, so conversing with sissy losers on Kik wasn’t always an option.

“Did you wear your panties to work, sissy girl?” she eventually asked.

“No.” I told her truthfully. I’d always thought about it, but for some reason deciding to do so on my own never really appealed to me. I’d much rather have someone ‘force’ me to do it. I am perfectly aware that that doesn’t make any sense at all. 

“Oh, well you will be tomorrow 😉” 

******

The next day I was typing away at my computer again, shifting back and forth and trying to get my lacy pink panties to sit comfortably against my nether region. 

They were covered by a pair of slacks, the tails of my button-down, and my suit jacket, but for some reason I still felt exposed. I glanced awkwardly at anyone that walked by my cubicle, half-expecting them to walk up, point, and laugh at my panty-line poking beneath my pants. Or, they would laugh at the other thing poking beneath my pants. My dick hurt from being consistently hard for so long. It didn’t help that she was constantly sending teasing messages. Apparently she wasn’t as busy today.

“How do they feel, princess?”

“What’s it like being around superior men all day?”

“What do you think the other people would say if they knew their co-worker was wearing pretty pink panties?”

“I think you should go to the restroom and give your Goddess a little peep show ;)”

I gulped. A mixture of fear and excitement coursing through my veins. I could feel my heart beating through my chest again, that strange chill going up my spine as my brain kicked into submissive overdrive.

I don’t know if my speed was too fast–or noticeably slow–as I walked. Whatever it was, I must have looked highly conspicuous. Maybe they just think you really have to take a dump. I told myself, but it was somehow in Persephone’s voice. Not that I even knew what her voice sounded like. Again, my imagination was running wild, maybe I was imagining this whole thing?

There were already two people in the restroom when I entered. One was washing his hands while the other fixed his hair. They looked at me through the mirror and I muttered something unintelligible in response before awkwardly making my way into the stall. 

I didn’t pull my pants down, just sat right there on the toilet and waited for them to leave. It seemed to take forever, but they finally made their way out. My hands were shaking as I unclasped my belt, pulling my slacks down to my ankles. The air felt cold against my clammy skin. My balls were poking out the sides of the panties a bit, and chafing on the areas where the hem was rubbing them raw. I opened my phone and took a quick selfie of me sitting on the toilet, keeping my face out of it.

“Your panties are already wet from your leaky clitty! Hahaha I think someone is enjoying this…”

I looked down in disbelief. Sure enough, the front of the panties had a noticeable wet spot from precum. I felt my face flush.

“I want you to send a video of you tinkling in the potty like a girl. Stay seated, princess.”

I found it unnerving that she often used infantile language like ‘tinkle’ and ‘potty’, but I didn’t say anything. I was happy just to have her around. Those minor critiques we could work on later. 

I pulled the panties down to my thighs, being sure to not go too far so they could be seen beneath the base of the stall. The notion of having to pee hadn’t occurred to me until that moment. I’d been so preoccupied with the anxiety of the panties that I didn’t notice the fullness of my bladder. It took a second for my dick to switch from horny to urination mode, but eventually I was videoing myself trickling into the toilet. My cock was small enough when limp that I had to push it down to angle it into the bowl. Otherwise, my little acorn would shoot straight forward and make my panties even more wet. 

Someone came into the bathroom while I was midstream. I gave a sharp inhale, holding my breath and stopping myself from peeing. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and the panties were high enough around my thighs that they couldn’t be seen below the stall, but for some reason having someone come in while I was in such a compromising position made me wary. The video was still rolling, I felt like it would be too conspicuous to stop it now. Again, it didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t thinking straight. 

Finally, the man finished his business, skipped washing his hands, and walked out.

“You got so scared you forgot to wipe!” she teased when I sent her the video. “Now pull those panties up, and turn around so I can see that cute wittle tushy of yours!”

This was a little more difficult. I didn’t exactly have anything to set my phone on in order to take the video with me in sight. The only way to do it was to set my phone down on the floor, and prop it up using the kickstand on my case. This put me in a precarious position though. What if someone walked in and saw my phone on the floor? What if they saw the video I was taking of me bent over against the wall, flashing my girly undies?

I was caught between the confines of wanting to please her, and wanting to keep my job and dignity. If girls dominating submissive sissies was a regular occurance, I might have stuck with the latter, but I knew I had to cling to this rare opportunity with all my might.

I reasoned that if someone did walk in, I could just scoop my phone up quickly and claim that I’d dropped it. Not the most believable, but I doubt anyone would care enough to think too much about it.

I hit record and quickly turned around, hands on the cold tile. I swished my hips back and forth in an attempt to look sexy. In reality I probably looked absolutely ridiculous. I didn’t know how long I should go for, so I counted to 30 in my head. It seemed like a reasonable enough time, even if I counted a bit faster than an average second. 

“Imagine if someone had you bent over right there in the stall! Taking advantage of that sissy ass!! 😈”

Before I could wrap my head around what she meant by that, my phone dinged again.

“I want you to cum in your panties again. I think you know how to do it properly by now. You have 3 minutes.”

Again, I was caught off guard. 3 minutes was not a very long time, and I’d already masturbated way more than usual in the last few days. 

That didn’t stop my dick from springing up though. It was lifting the panties up so high off my skin that my balls hung easily out the side. I put my phone in selfie mode and hit record again, not wasting time cropping my own face out with the angle.

I tickled the crest of the little tent I'd made. Swirling my finger over the slick fabric. It was wet with a fresh batch of precum. I snaked my finger around until I found that sensitive spot I’d learn to use so well. If I pressed too hard, I would pop my clit out of the panties, and I'm sure Goddess didn’t want that.

It was such a thrill doing something like this. Having a girl force me to not only wear panties to work, but to also have me model and masturbate in them for her. I felt so naughty, so slutty, like I was finally doing something exciting in my life of mundane bullshit. I’d spent so many days going through monotonous autopilot that I’d forgotten what it was like to feel any real emotion. I felt alive. My skin was buzzing with excitement mixed with a tinge of fear. My anxiety was high, but at least no one was in here to—

The restroom door clanked open. Dress shoes clicked along the tile floor, walking down the line to the stall next to me. The man stepped into the stall, turned around, and dropped his pants. 

I was somehow shivering and sweating all at the same time. “You have 3 minutes.” Persephone’s ‘voice’ rang in my ear.  I wasn’t sure what would happen if I didn’t complete her task within that window, but I didn’t really want to test her. What if she gave up on me altogether? I’d had women do that before. If I refused to do something super weird like dress up like a furry or wear a freaking diaper, they would ghost me right then and there. 

I didn’t have time to wait for the man to finish. I had to keep going, I’d already lost significant progress, and the video was already 2 minutes in. I had 1 minute left to go. 

The man was letting out some violent gas, followed by the gush of his bowels emptying into the water. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting for a masturbation session.

If I didn’t have one hand on my clit, and the other one holding my phone, I would have plugged my nose. Instead I had to push through with my eyes watering and fighting back the urge to gag.

There was no way he could hear me rubbing my silky panties, but I still felt conscious of every little sound I made. I’d been on the edge of cumming before he walked in, I lost significant progress, but it didn’t take long to build it back up, despite the distractions. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep my pathetic whimpers from escaping, I still probably wasn’t completely silent, but I fought it down as much as I could. I had to finish, I wanted to be a good sissy. A good sissy for my new Goddess. I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to keep her around so she would keep using me. Teasing me. Humiliating me. Making me do depraved things like this.

Unhh, unnhh, unnnhhh…I grunted, spewing my semen into the silk of the panties. Of course, it was right as the sound of the man’s obliteration of the toilet ceased and the room had gone quiet. I prayed to every higher power that he hadn’t heard me as I quickly uploaded the video and sent it to Persephone. I had to sit there and wait for her response in case she wanted me to do something else. The tension in the room was tangible, or maybe I was just imagining things again. Regardless, the silence was deafening.

“Such a pathetic little sissy girl! Now pull your pants back up over your creamy panties and get back to work!”

******

She was constantly pushing me further down the rabbit hole. The next day I had to cum in panties while at work again. But this time I had to do it in the middle of my own cubicle. Right there, right under my desk, beneath my slacks. 

At least my “rub the clitty motion” was inconspicuous, though I was starting to miss wrapping my hand around my cock and tugging.  It was more efficient, and not as emasculating. Again, I had to bite my bottom lip to keep my cubicle neighbors from hearing. 

After blowing my load in my panties, I praised myself for not wearing khakis that day, otherwise a wet spot would have probably appeared, like I didn’t shake enough times after peeing. Speaking of peeing, she made me ask for permission to go to the bathroom, and I had to video it so she could be sure I was doing it sitting down and ‘tinkling like a princess’. It was little methods of control like that drove me wild. Having someone controlling almost every aspect of my day was something I’d always wanted. 

Of course I had doubts that Persephone was a woman, I thought about asking her for a picture, but I didn’t want to ruin it. What if she really was a man? What if she was a she but didn’t look the way I pictured? I didn’t ask her because I didn’t know if I’d like the evidence. So I decided ignorance was bliss, for now…

“How do you call yourself a sissy, but you’ve never sucked a dick??” She asked. 

“Idk…” I replied, “I guess I don’t really want to…”

“Do you not want to? Or do you not want to *admit* that you want to?

Damn. She got me. Looking back, when I would watch porn with a girl in a sexy school girl outfit, sucking on a big, juicy cock, I guess I always imagined being her more than I imagined being him. 

When I eventually evolved to sissy porn, I would only seek out the ones with ‘unwilling’ submissives being ‘forced’ to perform the act. In my head, they were only doing it because their dominating Mistress told them to, not because they enjoyed it. Which is probably why I never went out and sucked a dick on my own. I’d never had a Mistress or Goddess to tell me to. 

“I think it’s time to admit what you truly are.” She said, “I want you to tell me that you’re a little cocksucker.”

I was sweating, fixing my tie that felt like it was choking me. “I’m a little cocksucker.” I replied. 

My own cock was growing in my panties. I didn’t even say the words, I just typed them. So why was I getting so hard?

“Do you like dick?”

“Yes Goddess.”

“What do you like about them? Be specific.”

I had to think about it. I had to picture them. The ones I’d see in porn that I couldn’t take my eyes off of sometimes. 

“The veins.” I said. “I like seeing the veins down the shaft.”

“What else?”

“The head.” It was spewing out of me now. “The big bulbous head, and the…”

“The what?”

“The cum. I like seeing the cum. 😔”

“Hahaha! Of course you do! Have you ever tried your own?”

“No.” I lied. 

“Oh, well you definitely will be soon 😉”

I tried to think of something to say, but my brain or subconscious kept me thinking about getting a warm load in my mouth. 

“I want you to answer honestly.” She said, so I braced myself. “Are you hard in your panties right now?”

I didn’t need to look down to know the answer, but I did it anyway. There was a sizeable tent that my slacks did a terrible job of hiding. 

I cringed as I typed out my next message. “Yes Goddess…”

“Bahaha!! Just from talking about dicks?”

My eyes squinted shut. “Yes Goddess…”

“Sorry, I'm HOWLING! Is there really any denying what you are?”

I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “I guess not…”

“I think you need to tell me again.”

“I’m a little cocksucker.” I typed and sent. 

“No no. I want you to *say* it. With your mouth.”

“…How?”

“By recording your voice you dumb bimbo.”

“Ok. Do I need to go back to the bathroom?”

“Nope. You can do it right there at your desk.”

I was sweating again. That familiar thrill of doing something naughty and exciting. But I could hear the keys clacking in the cubicles next to me. Someone was on the phone. A woman. She sounded miserable. Maybe if she heard me she would be more entertained. But I hoped to god she didn’t. 

I flicked my video on for what felt like the 100th time in these last few days. I tried to find my voice. It seemed to be escaping me, like it was afraid to say the words I’d never, ever uttered in my life. 

“I’m a cocksucker.” I whispered into the microphone. My dick felt like it was about to burst. How was I still so turned on after masturbating so much? Just from saying a few words?

“I’m sorry.” She said after I sent it. “I just couldn’t hear…I think you need to do it again. Louder this time. Like you’re proud.”

I didn’t think I could go any louder without someone hearing me. But I tried anyway. 

“I’m a cocksucker.”

“Again. But you’re also a sissy slut, in case you’ve already forgotten…”

“A cocksucking sissy slut.”I bellowed into my phone.  It felt so shameful, but also exciting. Like something I'd been fighting to admit to myself my whole life. I always wanted it, but I guess I didn’t know how much I wanted it until she showed me the…evidence. 

Her reply was a black box. I figured her message failed to send. I tapped it to make it reload, but when I did, a sweet, seductive female voice came through. “I’m gonna whore that little mouth of yours out. You know that, right?”

I didn’t even reply. Just sat there dumbfounded, feeling my heart pulsing through my cock. 

She’s a woman. 

It only later hit me (after replaying the sound bite several times) what she actually said. I spent the rest of the day wondering whether or not she was serious, and if I’d go through with it if she was…

To be Continued 

Chapter 6 of this story is now up on Subscribestar. Go check it out!

[spontaneousglitterbees]

(click for better quality, ID under the cut!)

nobody is sure exactly why they hang out, least of all the two of them

[Image ID: a digital comic drawn in all red-pink tones following Nagito Komaeda and Kokichi Oma at Hope’s Peak Academy, 20XX.

Panel One: Nagito stands left with a calm expression while an agitated Kokichi follows to the right, a bit behind as they walk down the hall between classes toward the viewer. They are respectively labelled “Just saw Hajime” and “(still) playing emotional chicken with Saihara”.

Panel Two: Kokichi smugly twirls a strand of hair around his finger, side-eyeing Nagito. “Hah, where the hell do people even get the idea we’re at all alike, Komaeda-chan? As if!”

Panel Three: A thoughtful Nagito stops to consider, pressing the forefinger of his robotic hand to his chin. “I suppose through a certain lens it kind of makes sense. You are the Ultimate Supreme Leader, correct?” In the foreground, Kokichi replies “last time I checked~”. In the background, however, we see his emotional response to Nagito’s question shove the speech balloon out of the way as it exclaims (in Oma’s head) “Damn right!”.

Panel Four: Nagito, unbothered, puts on a cheerful expression. “So, you’re just as Worthless as I am, Ouma!” The word “Worthless” is larger than the others, superimposed over Nagito’s face. A small arrow points to Nagito, stating “0 sarcasm detected”. Kokichi, in a sub-panel, smiles and tilts his head while one eye twitches. “what.”

Panel Five: Nagito, posed like Kokichi’s own mischievous sprite with his forefinger to his lips as he grins, begins to tear into Kokichi. “It’s not like you have a real talent. All you have is a set of mediocre, dubious “skills” spread too thin to be “talents” of their own. You’re only useful to push people with real futures toward their hopes. You’re a stepping stone too!”

Panels Five and Six are separated by a scene. The truth bullet interface, loaded with a crossbow arrow rather than a bullet, appears along the diagonal panel division. The fletching of the arrow is labelled “Dissociation to Cope”, with the implication being it will be shot at Kokichi in the style of a Class Trial. Kokichi stands over both panels with his back turned to the viewer. The topmost “X”-shaped stitch on his jacket is exaggerated and highlighted, as it crosses in the direct path of the arrow and gutter between panels.

Panel Six: The panel is spread into four distinct parts, separated by the figure of Kokichi with his back turned.

In the first, Kokichi uses lockpicks on a doorknob as three shadows (Shuichi, Himiko, and Tenko) wait in the background.

The second shows a close-up of a cork board and a string connecting two polaroids of indeterminate people. There are labels beneath each reading “(Wei)rd” on the left (Kiibo) and “Trust(worthy)” on the right (Shuichi). Between the two photos, Kokichi has written “Protag?” on the corkboard itself.

The third, smaller scene shows Shuichi standing at his podium during a class trial, depicted across from Kokichi. The back of Kokichi’s head is to the viewer. The figures are small enough Shuichi’s expression cannot be read.

The fourth scene shows a dying Kokichi lying on the hydraulic press in the Exisal Hangar, eyes closed and hands neatly folded on his shirtless, bloodied chest as he waits for it to close. The empty bottle of Strike-Nine Antidote lay on the ground beside the press.

Panel Seven: The scene returns to the school hallway. Nagito is shown in profile, while Kokichi is simplified in the background blankly staring at the ground. Nagito speaks up: “Ah, sorry. I still talk too much...”

Panel Eight: Kokichi takes out a lockpick, presumably hidden in his hair, with a “shhHING’ sound effect like a sword. His expression maintains a smile, but it has turned manic; there is no catch of light in his eyes as he stares at an offscreen-Nagito with a three-quarter view. Beside Kokichi, text reads: “DICE- murder No, maiming Yes” on one side and “So mean!” on the other. Kokichi says: “Alright, lucky-boy, how about a ten-step head start?” In an octagonal sub-panel, Nagito holds both hands in front of his chest in a placating gesture. He replies “fair....” with a withering look. End comic. End image ID.]

[runningfrom2am]

the sea around us; chapter five

TW: emetophobia, vomiting

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

I excused myself from everyone as they were talking about what to do now that JJ has blown our chances at "laying low", deciding to walk home. I grabbed my cooler backpack with my twelve-pack in it, which I didn't even end up touching, and trudged down the road.  JJ didn't plan on shooting anyone, I know that about him. He would never. The fact that he would hold a loaded gun to my brother's head though, did catch me off guard. I felt sick, oh god, I have about fifteen seconds before I start hurling my guts out on the side of the road- I don't know if it is the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed or the image of my brother with a gun to his head that's making me this nauseous.

I stop and lean away from the road as I start throwing up, holding my hair back with one hand, and resting the other on my knee. After a couple of minutes, I see headlights coming towards me. Awesome. I wipe off my mouth on my arm and stand up, I think I'm done puking my guts out now anyways. I keep walking, reaching into my bag and cracking another drink, hoping to rinse out my mouth and then finish it to keep myself from fully settling into sobriety and realizing the weight of the situation. Of course, I understand how serious what just happened was, but I can tell it hasn't really hit me yet.

The car rolls to a stop next to me as I'm spitting out the swig of Twisted Tea I used to wash the taste of vomit out of my mouth, and I look up as I hear a familiar voice.

"Hey, Snowy, you alright?" Topper. Sarah is in the passenger seat with him, arms crossed, looking straight at the road ahead of her.

"Hi Topper," I say, giving an awkward wave. "You didn't happen to see me hurling my guts out just now, did you?" I try and joke, knowing that of course, they saw.

"Uh, maybe just the tail end. Would you like a ride?" Sarah sighs and leans her head back against the seat as he says this. I've never had a real problem with Sarah personally, but I can understand why she'd be pissed at me now.

"I should be fine, only about five k's to the chateau," I say, a ride would be sweet, but I don't want to intrude, especially after the fight we just had with them.

"I don't know what a 'k' is, but I know where you live and at this rate, you'll get there around six am, Snowy. Hop in. Please." Topper pleads. Despite what happened, he cares for me. I haven't spent heaps of time with him, but he's Kegs' best friend, and he knows how much I mean to him.

I nod a little and get in the back, sliding across the seat so I'm behind Sarah. "Where's Kegs?" I ask quietly once we start moving. "I thought he was with you."

"He went to Erin's," Topper replied, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I take another sip of my drink and nod. Of course he's at Erin's.

"Hey, uh, Sarah?" I say quietly, trying to get her attention. She just hums in response, letting me know she's listening. "I... I'm really sorry I called you a liar. I'm not going to use the excuse that I was drunk, but I am wasted so..." I trail off, I need to get back on the point. "I don't think you were lying. From your distance, I'm sure that's exactly what it looked like. If I didn't panic, it would have been about four seconds before you would have been right, anyways..."

"It's fine," Sarah replied flatly. "I was looking out for you, Kegs just wants you to be safe. And happy." Of course, she knew he would react that way, but why wouldn't I be safe with JJ?

"Why wouldn't I be safe with JJ, I'm with him all the time."

"He just thinks you'd be better off if you hung out with us more. A less risky lifestyle than with the pogues." She explains and I nod softly, even though she can't see me. Classic Kegs, always thinks he knows what's best, and that popularity is the most important thing.

"We literally are pogues. We factually live on the cut, we have one bathroom for six people, for fucks sake. He's just good at golf and went to private school back home, and is likable. I never had that. I'll never be him.." I reply, but I am truly thankful that she cares. Sarah turns to face me, and she has a genuinely sympathetic look on her face.

"I do think you're pretty cool, Snowy. You're welcome to hang out with me and my friends sometime, I can't imagine Top and Rafe are really your scene." Sarah smiles at me and I return it with a slight nod. I doubt I'll take her up on it, there's no way I would fit in with her and her friends, but it was still nice of her to offer.

"Hey, can I interest you in a nice, almost room temp Twisted Tea?" I ask, changing the subject as I hold my bag up to her if she wants to take one. Sarah laughs as she grabs one.

"Thanks, Snowy."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

When I get home, I hardly get the door shut before my mom starts shouting at me. "Juliette, are you kidding me right now? Keegan just called me and said your friend tried to kill him!"

I sigh and set my bag down, kicking off my sand-filled shoes. "Yeah, he left a key part out of that story." I try and explain, but apparently, she's not having it.

"It doesn't matter, Juliette." He could have been killed tonight and you don't care?"

"Of course, I care, Mom. I- He was literally drowning John B! His head was under the water for so long that he passed out, and Kegs just held him there!" I mean, John B didn't technically actually drown, but that definitely would have happened if JJ didn't step in. "He wasn't listening to me! He wouldn't stop! JJ had to do something."

"He didn't have to try and kill him. I cannot believe you are defending the kid who tried to kill your brother! What is wrong with you?"

Clearly, this isn't going anywhere, so grab my bag as I walk past her to go to my room as she grabs a glass off the counter and throws it at me, just missing as it smashes against the wall. I lock myself in the room that I share with the twins and sigh. I turn around to see them both staring at me from their bunk bed that is on the far wall. They look terrified, tears have stained Deck's cheeks, and Anna just looks shocked. We can still hear our parents talking outside, having a heated discussion about what they're going to do.

"You two should be asleep," I say, walking into our closet to get changed into some pajamas.

"We heard Mom yelling," Deck says quietly as I remove my shirt and bathing suit, facing away from them.

"Did JJ really try to kill Keegs?" Anna asks me and I shake my head.

"He wasn't going to hurt him. He just needed to get his attention." I explain, pulling a new shirt over my head and closing the door so they don't see me change my bottoms.

I come out once I get changed and go sit on the bottom bunk with Deck as he clings on to me, and I hug him back. "Snowy, that was scary."

"I know," I whisper, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

"Can you sleep here with me?" He asks and I nod, laying down and pulling Deck down with me gently.

"So, was Pope there?" Anna asks me from the top bunk, leaning over the side so I can see just see her face in the dark, as he hair dangles down below her.

"Yes, Pope was there, Anna. Now get back to sleep." I chuckle, holding my little brother as she lays back down and keeps asking me questions about him. "Goodnight, Anna," I say in response, so she knows I won't be answering her anymore.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

A/N;

Just a short chapter this time, but it felt like the right place to stop.

Business as usual, please let me know what you're thinking! I hardly have any readers so now is a great time to get your suggestions in since I am super active in writing this and I'm more than willing to incorporate different ideas :) Shoot me a message or leave a comment!

Also, I left a little poll so please share your thoughts!

Thanks for reading!

-R

[whiteboardartstudios]

HAPPY PRIDE! (From me & my ocs) :D

(I couldn't figure out how to get Glaze to work (TwT) and I really wanted to share this so uhhh here *throws this at you and then scampers away like the lil creature that I am* >:D)

Here are some screenshots of the individual characters because tumblr ate the image quality:

The flags (from left to right and top to bottom) are: Bisexual, Demiromantic, Pansexual, Transgender (times 2) plus a little bit of Lesbian, "Not Straight LOL", Bisexual plus Genderfluid, and Asexual at the very bottom. Please tell me if I got any of them wrong (I'm mostly worried about the Demiromantic one because I don't usually see it very often so I just went with the first result from Google ToT)

Bonus (Very Poorly Made) memes and image IDs under the cut! (warning the image ids are very long.) Happy pride everybody! :D

Bonus #1:

Bonus #2: (This one doesn't have the lesbian heart because I added it after my friend helped me make the fire text and I didn't want to bother them again TwT Sorry lesbians)

[IMAGE ID: The main image is a very tall drawing of a bunch of different characters holding various pride flags. The title says "HAPPY PRIDE! From me and my ocs" with "happy pride" being in all caps and "pride" in rainbow letters. The first two characters on the top left are doing the Barbie and Ken mugshot meme together, although both are smiling. The character on the left is holding a bisexual flag and the character on the right is holding a demiromantic flag. Another character to their right is waving a pansexual flag. On the next row of characters, the first two characters on the left are posing together and are both waving transgender flags. The character on the right also has a little heart with the lesbian flag floating next to her. To their right are two more characters. The character on the right is laughing with their arm looped through the arm of the character on the left, and the character on the right has a bisexual pin and is waving a genderfluid flag. The character on the left is blushing and holding a flag that says "Not Straight LOL" in rainbow letters. A small loading wheel and the words "Hearth.exe has stopped responding" can be seen near his head. Below them are three small characters all smiling and colored in various shades of blue, labeled "??? AKA my blue children". Below them are a group of characters including a water dragon, a tiger made of embers, a shark made of rocks (although he does not look like a shark because the artist does not know how to draw sharks), a dark purple owl, a small glowing creature with wings, a snow fox, a green moth, two relatively abstract creatures that resemble floating space liquid and pink fire respectively, and an eldritch-looking forest creature. These characters are labeled in all capital, bold letters as "Older than gender itself". An arrow is pointing towards the owl and the small glowing creature saying "except for these two. They are baby." with a silly emoji. Beneath these characters, a giant asexual flag can be seen over a bunch of vague scribbles labelled as "literally every single one of my ocs". The characters are all colored in bright, colorful colors. End ID.] [Image ID: The first bonus picture shows the two characters on the top left doing the Barbie and Ken mugshot meme, except yellow letters are put over their flags to say "Barbie" and "And Ken" respectively. End ID.] [Image ID: Thes second bonus picture shows the two characters with the transgender flags. Dark blue text next to the character on the left says "I'm ftm" while the text next to the character on the right says "I'm mtf". A plain white rectangle with the words "the transgender siblings" in all caps and fire font is near the bottom of the image. The character on the right does not have her lesbian heart because the artist forgot to include it. sorry lesbians. End ID.]

[ronanceisintheair]

okay but image DD robin knocking on nancy’s door hella late in the night and nancy looks through the peep hole and sees them and when she opens the door shes like “i’m sorry but i cant tonight i’ve got work—“ and then robin just collapses in the doorframe all beat up n bloody

OOHHH RJ. RJ LISTEN. I'M ASTRAL PROJECTING!

Yes Nancy has had a loaded schedule and for a split second before the words leave her mouth she considers it, something about letting herself unwind and getting her frustrations out, but no. She needs to focus.

"I can't tonight I ha-" she watches Robin unsteady on their feet, managing to stand just long enough until she got the door before collapsing.

Nancy kind of watches it in slow motion. Robin's body sort of crumbling, instead of dropping all in one, against the frame of the door before she reacts; arms wrapping around them to support their weight. Nance tries to be careful, she doesn't know where they've been hit, but her main concern is getting them inside.

Because what the actual hell Robin.

She's pacing the living room for a moment, Robin laid out on the couch-listening to their labored breaths, both relaxing and concerning.

Nance know this can't be the first time they've been this banged up, but it's the first time She's having to deal with it. Both an honor and kind of messed up, if she's being honest.

If they were awake-how she wishes they were-she just might tell them off.

Nancy stops pacing, focusing her eyes on Robin, watching their chest rise and fall before deciding standing around isn't going to be of much use.

She grabs a few rags from the kitchen and fills some bowls with warm water. She's crouched on the floor just in front of the sofa; hands hesitating for a moment.

Nancy has seen Robin's exposed body on many, many... many, occasion. But suddenly this feels like she's truly opening pandoras box, like this is the first time She's seeing them. For them as they are, as they can be; Robin Buckley. Daredevil.

Taking off the suit that clings to them so perfectly, grimacing at the parts that cling to deep cuts and bloody wounds.

[cyberrat]

81st Batch Of Fics: 2nd Fill

Cassidy/OCs; (Cassidy/Hanzo) – Flashback Part 2/4 (-ish) – rape; coercion; young Cole – Cole gets his first *real* taste of Alpha cock.

---

In a way, Cole has to be thankful to Bertie because the load he pumped into him means there is something that can slick the way as he’s getting pushed to the dusty ground and mounted by his first Alpha.

There is no ‘just the tip’ there is no ‘going slow’. It’s just one burly Alpha crushing Cole’s skull into the ground and making him eat sand as he crams his big fat Alpha dick into his all but virginal ass.

He’s not fighting them. He wouldn’t get anywhere anyway. They’re all about twice or thrice his weight and their dominance is so overwhelming that he can feel himself wanting to piss himself with submission.

The Alpha grunts low above him as he jerks forward, fucking a couple more inches into Cole. His shaft is even fatter in the middle than the head of his dick. Cole can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Another grunting thrust and he can’t keep down the cry of pain as he feels his rim ripping.

One of the other Alphas surges forward, grabs him by the hair and rips his head up so brutally that for a second Cole is sure his neck snaps.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut!” the Alpha hisses at him. “Don’t want anybody coming here snooping. Who the fuck wants to be caught sticking their dick into a whiny little brat like you, huh?”

“Fuck, but his pussy’s nice,” the Alpha fucking him slurs. He sounds a bit like he’s drunk. Cole can feel the swell of a knot pressing against his rim and his stomach clenches tight like a fist, a surge of bile rushing up his throat. He swallows it down desperately, his fingers clawing themselves bloody in the ground.

“Sorry… sorry,” he whispers, a few drops of piss dripping onto the dusty ground beneath him.

The third Alpha standing at the edge of the crates and keeping a lookout with Bertie, half turns his head to peer across his shoulder.

“Just make sure he stays quiet. Stuff something down his throat.”

“Mhhh… yeah just got the thing for that.”

Cole feels his throat swelling shut as if in reaction to seeing the other Alpha starting on his pants.

“No, please… I’ll… I’ll be quiet,” he whispers in a hoarse voice, but the guy behind him is thrusting again and fuck… fuck, it feels like he is really and truly trying to cram his knot into Cole’s body. The panic makes him feel a bit stupid, his insides clenching down in denial, trying to keep the Alpha from doing irreparable damage to his insides.

The Alpha grunts. Now that he’s stopped grinding Cole’s head into the dirt he can hold his hips in a vice-like grip to keep them nice and up for his pumping cock.

“Shit the bitch is tight… could almost imagine ‘im bein’ a li’l dame. Need ta get some Omega slick and smear it on his pussy and Bob’s your fuckin’ uncle.”

“Does he take it well, Charlie?” the Alpha in front of Cole asks. He’s got his dick out but is just massaging it for now. Still, he’s kneeling in front of Cole and his pants are open, leaving him to almost suffocate in the thick Alpha stink wafting around his nose. Not that he’s particularly unwashed, but… Cole has never been this fucking close to another Alpha’s dick before.

He wants to gag but the images rolling through his head at what could happen are enough to keep him from doing so. He tries to just breathe through it; just like he is trying to breathe through the brutal fucking he’s receiving.

“Sure is. Sure fucking is. Damn… Why’d you never told us you like it up the ass, Cassidy? Huh? Could’ve treated you to some knots a long damn time ago!”

Charlie is grabbing him by the hair and ripping his head back again, pulling him onto his cock until his knot is kissing up against Cole’s bleeding hole and making him go cross-eyed.

He is clawing at the dirty ground, digging his nails into it, trying to find something… anything to hold on to and not be used like a ragdoll.

“S…Sorry,” he finds himself stuttering. Submissive and passive despite the brief indignation rearing its head. It’s not like he’s offered this-

“Shut the fuck up. The boss is going t’ bed,” the outlook hisses.

Smooth as can be – as if they had practiced the whole damn thing, Charlie lets go of Cole’s hair and lets him topple forward again. The other Alpha is right there, smoothly guiding his mouth onto his erection before Cole has a chance to wrap his head around what is happening.

He can hear the heavy footsteps of their boss moving past them; the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he moves from the makeshift bar that they got on their property, toward his private cabin.

He does not notice anything out of the ordinary it seems, though Cole is not sure he would even care much if he did look around the corner and saw him getting fucked silly by the other guys.

Well maybe he would… but not in the way Cole would like, he supposes.

His thoughts are sluggish and heavy. He keeps thinking about what a damn fucking traitor Bertie is. And about how intense the cock on his tongue tastes.

It’s salty and thick and fills his whole being with that musky funk. It clogs his nose and makes him wonder if he’ll ever be able to smell and taste anything other than Alpha cock after this.

The intense, mind-numbing pain from getting his ass quite literally ripped open has subsided somewhat, allowing him to calm down enough that he doesn’t feel so close on the edge of crying anymore.

He would throw himself into the damn Gorge before he cried in front of anybody. It’s just dicks. He likes dicks. Just not… just not Alpha cocks.

“Hey Cassidy. Look at me while I fuck your throat-”

A dirty thumb against his forehead brushes his wild hair out of his eyes. He doesn’t know why he is doing it, but he does look up obediently, staring into the other guy’s face while he struggles with the concept of breathing while getting his throat stuffed with cock.

It’s easy, though. Far easier than somehow trying not to suffocate as some asshole knots behind his teeth, a manic grin stretched across his face and some gentle hands petting the sides of his face and his cheeks as if they’re doing something good. Something consensual.

Cole feels himself going cross-eyed, his ears filled with rushing, crackling static as panic takes over from an Alpha knotting his goddamn mouth. He tries to pull back but Charlie is right there behind him, pushing him back forward.

They’re spearing him on their dicks and he has nowhere to go. The pain and the panic is starting to make his vision swim. His heart is thumping fast and hard and his stomach is churning.

Just before he loses consciousness, Bertie’s face is swimming back into view, peering at him from around the other Alpha’s arm.

“Sorry about that, dude. But they paid good bucks, you know? … And this can be damn fucking lucrative.”