#went to a convention over the weekend

[september-poetry]

a violent dog, a vitriol

what does it mean to exist

these bars that hold us in

this mortality that binds us

would you rather not

the confines of time

over the skin that keeps us held tight

within its grasp

i feel my flesh

it is raw and rotten

i see it fall apart

i sense my bones are breaking yet again

the blood spills from porcelain hands

ceramic stained red as love grows weary

do you not grow tired of holding up

a broken withered man

the puppets strings have broken off in your absence

and here he is

alone

empty

afraid

a dog without his owner

he bares his fangs and his torn and bloodied pelt

its scars permeate his grin

his maw is bruised and beaten down

as his skull glints in the light

and his tail is empty

it has used up all its energy

useless

limp and hollow

eyes of golden honey look into his cage

do you see my potential?

i can fight for you

i can die for you

tell me what to do and i'm yours

a violent animal

i will bite

i will tear at your softened flesh

i will break your skin with my lies

i will gnash and scream and howl

until there's nothing left

but a skeleton of broken dreams

and a lover who once was happy

euthanise me

smother my whines

ill whimper all night

i'll stay silent if you ask me to

im sorry

i'll offer you my neck

a sacrifice for what is holy

a martyr for my self worth

bite me

taste enough to satiate yourself

and leave my leftovers to rot

on the marble steps in which you lay me bare

chest exposed to the gods

ribs interlinked with your fingers as you pull

break them

crack me open

hear them fracture through your skull

taint these sacrilegious walls

that once held the intestines of your sacrificial lamb

an unworthy vessel for your virtue

let the sin spill out

and touch my lips as a final prayer

one last breath

another piece of me

fill your lungs with what is left of my body

and consume me whole

i love you

my oxygen

my owner

my everything

14 / 10 / 24

prompt: idol

week two: lights

from @lordsovorn darktober

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

opening proper little guy commissions :)

i want to help pay down the emergency loan we took our last month + help with groceries this week

send me a dm here or on discord (begaydoalchemy)

[hacktuarial]

logs in. sees that many of my cringefail posts have breached rpc containment. logs out

[yamujiburo]

A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.

I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.

I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.

She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.

A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.

All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.

Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!

[dashcon-two]

DashCon 2 Venue Announcement, Vendor's Hall, and More!

The DashCon 2 team is thrilled to announce the concrete answers to all your biggest questions. Where it is, when it is, how to buy tickets, and more. You ready?

TL;DR

Where: DashCon 2 will be held at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in North York, Toronto

When: July 5th, 2025

What: Tickets will go live on February 22nd. Vendor Applications will be open on February 1st, and Panelist Applications on February 10th.

Our Venue!!

[6 Sakura Way, North York, ON M3C 1Z5]

Image belongs to Bartman905 on Wordpress

The JCCC has previously hosted plenty of other fan conventions, notably the Anime North Halloween Event and Pretty Heroes. Given their experience with convention hosting and gorgeous venue space, we think they’re the perfect fit.

So, why did this take so long?

Well… the JCCC wasn’t our first pick. Our first pick, who we won’t name, dropped us unexpectedly after months of negotiations. Why? Original DashCon’s reputation. We literally got DashCon’d before the convention had even started!!

While we were expecting this and had backup plans, we were blindsided by a rejection this late into the negotiation process. After reaching out to our other contacts, we settled on the JCCC, but we had to restart the entire process. So much of our planning had to be restarted or paused, which set us way behind schedule. Naturally, we didn’t want to say anything about losing our venue spot until we’d adequately replaced it.

We’re happy to say that the Classic DashCon Venue Struggle is over and done with - and our rental with the JCCC is paid in advance. No $17k hostage situation necessary.

However, all this provokes another obvious question: why did you go public with the project when you hadn’t signed with the venue yet? In short: Strange Aeons’ DashCon: An Extensive Oral History video. We were already knee-deep in the project behind the scenes before finding out she was making a YouTube video about DashCon, pushing the story into the public eye again. The team was concerned that declaring we were organizing DashCon 2 soon after Strange Aeons’ video would imply it was a rush-job inspired by her video. We were far enough along in the initial venue negotiations that we decided to go public with the video rather than after it.

Date & Time

DashCon 2 will be held for one day: Saturday, 5th July 2025. We alluded to using the same weekend as the original DashCon when we first went public, but unfortunately this date wasn’t available at our venue. This does mean it’s pretty close to the American 4th of July - in our defense, we didn’t really think of that, we’re Canadian.

The convention will open to the public at 9:30 AM and close at 9:30 PM. All this information and more will be available on our website.

(These hours may be subject to minor changes, please always check our website for our most recent info!)

Admission

Ticket sales to in-person DashCon 2 will open on Feb 22nd! Mark your calendars…

We’ll be processing ticket sales through Simpli Events, an all-Canadian competitor to Eventbrite. You can click here to find the events page.

We’re working on the feasibility of expanding DashCon 2 into a hybrid event, with live-streams of the most anticipated panels/events and some other informal online panels hosted on a private Discord. More information on those will come at a later date.

Vendor and Panel Applications

DashCon 2’s Artist Alley/Vendor's Hall is a space for independent artisans who create print media, handmade crafts, or other merchandise. If you want the opportunity to sell your merchandise at DashCon 2, then you’ll be excited to learn that vendor applications will open on February 1st!

Please see www.dashcontwo.com/dealers-hall/ for more details about tables, prices, and merchandise. The link to the application form will be posted there.

We’re also happy to say that we’re opening panel applications on February 10th! We have a few guest panellists already lined up (including a few we can’t talk about yet), but we’re excited to open applications to everyone with a good idea! All DashCon 2 panels will be moderated by our volunteer team, and we’ll put out more info soon about volunteer sign-ups!

[lord-cringefest]

Went to an anime convention over the weekend in my tech priest cosplay, and I wasn’t expecting how many Warhammer cosplayers there were!

I met this guy in iron warrior cosplay who noticed me running after him for a bit (he was very tall and I have very short legs) and he let me take a picture

Basically how that interaction went

[teddypines]

Weekend alone

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Summary: Y/N and Bruce have the house to themselves so they think watching a movie or show would be a good idea, until things take a different turn.

Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI, please and if you do not my problem. Use of vibrator, bit of degrading, i think. Let me know if i missed something.

Note: So.... First time doing smut. I hope it's good, i hope you enjoy it. Tips are always welcome!

Art/picture's are from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it. I just put it together like this.

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It was an odd acuranse for Bruce and Y/N to have the whole house for themselves. Yet it happened to them. All the kids out of the house doing their own things with friends, partners or just something by themselves. Even Alfred went out for the weekend, going on a well-deserved vacation to a butler convention. Even the animals did their own things as Bruce and Y/N tried to figure out what to do for the day. Not wanting to do a lot since it was Sunday, which meant a lazy day for Bruce and Y/N to bond and recharge for the next week.

“We could watch a new show or movie downstairs.” Bruce suggested. Knowing fully well that they would never watch something new without the kids and will probably circle back to one of their favorite shows and or movies. “Yeah, but the bed is so warm and cozy right now. I don’t want to leave.” Y/N answered as she snuggled into Bruce’s side a bit more. Bruce laughed a bit and booped her nose. “Alright then, we can watch a show or movie here in bed. I did put in a tv in the room that we barely use.” 

“Can we watch Steven Universe?” Y/N asked Bruce, not even bothered that they watched Steven Universe multiple times and it wasn’t a new show or movie. “Please, Brucie, please.” Giving Bruce her puppy eyes. Bruce looked at Y/N and sighed. “You really want to watch Steven Universe again over watching something new? Something that, I don't know, needs to be checked before we watch it with the children?” 

“Steven Universe." Y/N answered. “Because all I wanna do is see you turn into a giant woman.” Bruce could only laugh a bit at Y/N quoting the show. “Or we can watch something that is a bit less gem related. We could watch that show with the angels and demons.” Bruce said as he pulled away from Y/N to find the remote to the tv in his nightstand. 

“Be more specific, Love. There are multiple shows with angels and demons.” Y/N responded. Turning on her side to watch Bruce look for the remote. “The one where they are lovers.” Bruce added. “Still not specific enough, love.” Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. feeling a bit frustrated about not finding the remote or the show he ment.

“Do you want me to list them off?” Y/N asked, wanting to help Bruce with finding the show or movie he ment. Bruce only nodded his head as he continued his search for the remote. “Okay, so we have ‘Good Omens’, ‘Supernatural’, ‘Lucifer’ I think ‘Vampire diaries’, ‘Buffy the vampire slayer’ ehm…. that one show with the witches. Yeah no I think that’s it.” Y/N listed off all the shows she could think of. Bruce was a bit baffled about all the shows with angels and demons that were lovers or had other lovers. He dropped the remote on the floor. “Yeah… ehm… Let’s just watch Sherlock.” “Okiedokie, which one?” 

Bruce looked at Y/N, wanting to give up on watching a show or movie all together. “The one with Rdj?..” Bruce answered. “First or second one?” Y/N asked again. Bruce leaned against the headboard in shock. “Jeez women stop asking so many questions, I just want to watch Sherlock Holmes and snuggle with you!” He answered. “So…. I can pick the Sherlock version?” “Yes! Just pick, please.” Y/N giggled and put on the first Sherlock Holmes movie with Rdj in it after grabbing the remote from Bruce’s hands. 

<---------------------------------------------------------->

“I don’t like Irene.” Y/N commented after Irene just tricked Sherlock into doing her dirty work. Bruce laughed at her comment and kissed the side of her head. “I know you do. Good thing she’s not real and Sherlock ditches her.” Y/N nodded her head at Bruce’s response. “You know Sherlock only likes her somewhat because she’s interesting to him and he can’t really read her like all the other people, right?” He asked before continuing to kiss Y/N head and cheeks. “Yes, I know that, but I still don’t like her.” Y/N pouted after answering.

Bruce laughed a bit at the pout Y/N had on her face and slowly placed his hands over her thighs. “Such a pouty girl.” Y/N looked up at Bruce, sticking out her tongue. “And here I thought I was free of children for the day.” Bruce teasted. “Maybe I should teach you how to behave.” Y/N turned a bit red and quickly looked back towards the tv. “No need.”

“No need? Owh sweetheart, I think you do need to be taught a lesson in behaving.” Bruce whispered into Y/N ears. His hands moved from her thighs towards her hips, gently lifting her up and placing her into his lap. “Good girls don’t stick out their tongues.”

Before Y/N knew it Bruce had pulled off her sleep shorts and panties. “Focus on the tv, Sweetheart.” He ordered Y/N in a husky tone. Y/N could only listen and turned her focus on the tv in front of her. She could hear Bruce reach for his nightstand and grab something from one of the drawers. She had an idea of what he grabbed but had to do her best not to look. Her suspicion was however quickly confirmed when she felt something cold against her clit and a low buzzing sound started to fill the room. “There's a good girl. Keep looking at the tv, love.” Bruce smirked as Y/N started to whimper and squirming between his legs. The vibrator was on the first setting and she was already a mess.

“Bruce…” Y/N moaned as she turned her head up to look at Bruce. “Ah ah. No, Love, keep looking at the tv.” Bruce purred into her ear before turning up the vibrator, making Y/N’s breathing hitch. She moaned at the stronger sensation on her clit, the feeling of Bruce’s hard one against her back wasn’t helping either. She wanted to look at him not at the tv, but he wouldn’t let her. “Such a good girl, Sweetie.” The way Bruce said those words didn’t help Y/N at all, the feeling between her legs only getting stronger and stronger.

Bruce looked back at the tv enjoying the movie once again as he kept the vibrator on Y/N’s clit. Changing the levels every once in a while, going from really low to the highest and everything in between just to tease her. Making sure she wouldn’t come or look away from the tv. Holding her tightly against his chest.

“Bruce… Please~” Y/N whined as she could feel herself getting close again. “Please, please.”

“Please what, love? What do you want?” Bruce asked, adding to the teasing, wanting to hear her say what she wanted in this messy state. “Please, want to come.” Y/N barely got out as Bruce turned up the vibrator once again. “Yeah? You want to come, love? but I don't think you have learned your lesson just yet.” Bruce answered Y/N plea. The way she started to shake in his lap made him want to continue this little teasing game. “Please Brucie, please, i'll be a good girl. A really good girl.”

“Hmmm, are you? Are you going to be my good girl?” Bruce asked after placing a kiss on Y/N’s shoulder when she nodded to his question. “Alright, love, come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come.” The moment Bruce told Y/N it was okay to come, she came. She arched her back against Bruce and moaned out his name. Bruce was pleased by Y/N coming like this and the sight alone made him come inside his sweatpants.

After a little while of calming down Y/N turned over in Bruce’s arms. “You’re mean,” She whispered. “But I love you more. Now let me make you feel good too.” She said before getting onto her knees, only to be stopped by Bruce. “No need for that love, you already made me feel really good.” He gestured down at his crotch where a noticeable dark spot was. Y/N looked at it and could only laugh. “Did I really make you come by just letting you toy with me?”

“Maybe.” Bruce smirked and pulled Y/N towards him for a kiss.

“Come on, let's get cleaned up and get some snacks so we can finish this movie.” Bruce said as he picked Y/N up and started to carry her towards the bathroom. Y/N smiled and nodded her head. “I’d like that a lot.” 

[helen-with-an-a]

hey i know that this is a senstive topic but i was wondering if you could write a barca x reader, where reader take transit from her home to the training grounds even tho multiple teammates have told her they will drive her but she doesn't want to be a burden. when on the bus or train she gets off at a stop and is walking home when she hears a guy behind her, this guy pulls her into an area (bushes, alley way) and r*pe's her. after the next day at training she really quiet and people notice she has disengaged and ask her about it until she breaks down about how embrassed she is because she think this guy has taken her virginity until someone like alexia explains that she hasn't and says she will stay with her and she will take her too and from training..

I know it is a senstive topic and if you don't wan to write it I totally understand <3

Hi - so this is a very deep topic that I have no experience with but I did change it to something that I have some experience with. Please read this with your own safety and well-being in mind - if this is something you feel like you cannot read, please do not do so. If this is happening, or if anything similar is happening please contact someone.

UK Rape and Sexual Abuse Hotline: 0808 500 2222 or their website

USA National Victims Hotline: phone or text 1-855-4VICTIM (855-484-2846) or their website

Australia Sexual Assault Crisis Line: 1800 806 292 or their website

Spain Delegación del Gobierno contra la Violencia de Género: 016 or their website

France Victimes Plus Jamais Sueles: +33 (0)1 45 88 19 00; 0884284637 or their website

Germany: 0049 30 32299500; or their website

Here is a list of other hotlines for countries across Europe and the World

Withdrawn

Barça Femeni x Reader (mainly Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Description: R comes back after the Winter break a lot more withdrawn

Word Count: 4.1k

TW: Somewhat described SA (coercion and r*pe); Mental Health; Attempted forced sex (nothing actually happens a boy just tries to demand sex); Mentions of repressed sexuality due to religion (Catholicism)

You had known for quite a while that you weren't straight. It wasn't a sudden revelation or a fleeting thought; it was something that had always known. From the moment you caught yourself staring just that little bit too long at one of the girls at Sunday School, her wavy hair tied back in a nice, neat braid, her white dress standing out against her tanned skin. You knew you shouldn't but you couldn't help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks when she complimented your knowledge of the story of Joseph in Egypt.

But you weren’t allowed to be anything other than straight. The idea of being anything else was unthinkable, an option that simply did not exist in your world. Your family’s strict Catholic beliefs dictated every aspect of life, from the prayers said before meals to the unwavering attendance at church multiple times a week. You were expected to follow the path laid out for you, one that led to a conventional life with a husband and children.

You even had a boyfriend, the perfect outward proof that you were living the perfect life. On the surface, everything seemed right – everything appeared as it should be.

He was nice enough – he ticked all the boxes that would make your family proud. He went to church regularly, sitting beside you in the pews, nodding in all the right places during Mass. He smiled at you warmly, his hand finding yours as he guided you over to the Priest after the service was finished. He played the role of the ideal boyfriend with ease, taking you out for meals at family-friendly restaurants, making sure to always choose a place your parents would approve of. On weekends, he’d take you down to the beach after watching your matches, where you’d walk along the shore, hand in hand, just like a picture-perfect couple.

From the outside, everything about your relationship seemed flawless. People would comment on how lucky you were, how well you two fit together, and how you were on the right track for a happy, conventional future. His kindness was genuine, you think; he treated you well, and in many ways, he was everything you were supposed to want. Yet, you just ... couldn't. You knew what you were, who you were. And yet, you just couldn't.

He was the one to suggest it – heading up to the bedroom during a birthday party. You could tell by the way he leaned in close, his voice low and teasing, that he was testing the waters. “Everyone’s doing it,” he whispered with a playful wink, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair off your forehead. There was a casual confidence in his tone like this was just the next step, something as natural as breathing. It was an unspoken rule among your friends, a rite of passage that no one questioned.

It hurt – that's the thing you remember most. The discomfort, the sharp sting that made you wince, the feeling of his nails scratching as he fumbled around, the burn as he pushed himself inside. You definitely weren’t wet enough, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

He had kissed you for maybe all of five minutes beforehand, it was messy and too wet, his tongue leaving a trail of spit in its wake. His hands bunched up your skirt without much warning. His calloused hand scratched against your soft skin as he parted your thighs.

Then, without much warning, he slid his fingers inside you, and that’s when the pain started. It was clumsy and awkward; his fingers poked and prodded until he finally found what he was looking for. You tried to focus on the fact that at least he had done that, at least he fingered you. You told yourself that it was a kindness, that it could have been worse, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

He had lasted 78 seconds – longer than you’d honestly expected. The whole experience was surreal like you were watching it happen to someone else. When it was over, you lay there, trying to make sense of what had just happened, the seconds ticking away in the silence that followed. You felt like crying, but nothing happened – you just lay there as he pulled out and slumped down next to you.

It wasn’t until after that you fully realised he hadn’t used a condom. You had asked him to, your voice far weaker than you ever wanted. Instead, he had smirked, a self-assured, almost arrogant expression crossing his face. “Who are we to stand in the way of God’s will?” he said as he slipped his boxers off. His words hung in the air, shame swirling around you as he settled himself on top of you.

The team could tell something was wrong the moment they saw you. It was the first day back after the winter break, a time when everyone was usually buzzing with energy. You stood, silent and withdrawn, as the team huddled together in the gym, hugging each other and swapping holiday stories.

You weren't laughing, and you definitely weren't smiling, two things that came naturally to you, especially when you were with the team. Normally, you'd be right in the thick of it, cracking jokes and teasing your friends. But today, you just stood there, your arms wrapped around yourself as if to ward off a cold only you could feel, your eyes fixed on the edge of the mat.

It was as if the world around you had faded away. Pere was explaining the drills for the day, but his words seemed distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater. You didn't hear a thing he said, didn't register the plans for practice, or the way he glanced at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

You weren’t even thinking, there was nothing in your mind. Just a static hum. A silent scream, begging for someone to hear it.

Alexia’s eyes followed you wearily, her gaze filled with a concern she couldn’t quite mask, as you moved with a mechanical stiffness toward where your parents were standing. It was as if someone had dimmed the light that normally shone from within you, leaving behind only a shadow of the person Alexia knew.

Your parents stood nearby, waiting for you with warm smiles. She liked your parents, the whole team did. They were supportive in a way that wasn’t overbearing, always ready with a kind word or a hug after a tough match. They treated you well, and it was clear how much they cared about you. They were proud of you, and that pride shone through in everything they did, from the way they cheered in the stands to the thoughtful little gestures they made to show their love.

You boyfriend was the same. He kissed you gently, pulling you into a hug afterwards and smiling widely. He was a nice enough boy, the kind that anyone would consider a good match. Polite and respectful, he always knew the right thing to say, the right way to act in any situation. He seemed to be hardworking, dedicated to whatever he set his mind to, whether it was his studies, his own sports, or supporting you. He always had your name emblazoned across his back, your Barça shirt pulled proudly over his jumper.

“What are you staring at?” Patri asked as she came over to see what was taking so long. She followed Alexia's gaze, trying to see what had caught her attention so completely.

“Nena,” Alexia replied softly, nodding in your direction. Her eyes were fixed on you, her brow furrowed with concern. You were only a few feet away, but you seemed distant as if you were somewhere else entirely. Your mother was speaking rapidly, her hands moving in animated gestures as she tried to make a point, her usual lively energy on full display. But you ... you weren’t responding.

You were staring over your mum’s shoulder, your eyes unfocused, a blank expression on your face. It was as if the words and movements were passing right through you, not registering at all. There was an emptiness in your gaze that made Alexia’s heart ache.

Patri glanced at you and then back at Alexia, sensing the tension in the air. “Is she okay?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern. It was clear to both of them that something was off. You weren’t yourself. Something had changed, something had happened to you.

Alexia didn’t answer right away. She kept her eyes on you, trying to read the expression that flickered across your face for just a moment before the blankness returned as your boyfriend leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. It was like watching a ghost of you, a version of you that had somehow lost its spark. She could tell you were going through the motions, nodding occasionally, but your heart wasn’t in it. You weren’t really there.

“I don’t know,” Alexia finally murmured, her voice heavy with worry.

You had never been more grateful for that day. The day Alexia finally figured it all out. It had been a couple of weeks since the game, and your withdrawal had only got worse. You had been distant, more so than ever, drifting further into your thoughts, away from everything and everyone.

It was a family and friends event. It was done every year, a chance for the team and staff to show off where the players spent far too many hours. You had brought your boyfriend along, his hand clasped tightly in yours as you stared vacantly out the window, your mind elsewhere.

“Mija, what is wrong with Nena?” Eli asked, her voice hushed. She was watching you for a little while, her maternal instincts immediately picking up that something wasn’t right.

“I’m not sure, Mamí,” Alexia sighed, her gaze following her mother’s to where you stood. "She’s been off for a while now. Something happened over the winter break, but I can’t get her to open up. I think she’s spoken maybe ten words since we came back. She's playing ok, but it's like she's a shell or something.”

Alexia’s eyes lingered on you, her heart aching at the sight of your blank expression, the light that usually danced in your eyes completely gone. Your boyfriend, standing next to you, was chatting happily with Frido and her partner, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) of whatever was going on with you.

Eli’s brow furrowed, her frown deepening as she observed the boy you had brought along. “I do not like that boy,” she muttered, her voice low but firm in a way that only mothers can manage.

Alexia turned to her mother, surprised. “What? Mamí, you haven’t even spoken to him. He’s actually quite nice. Honestly, he's at every match, he takes her out for dinners and walks along the beach.”

But Eli wasn’t convinced. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as they stayed locked on him. “Something is off about him,” she insisted, her voice resolute. "And he has something to do with why she’s like this. I know it."

Alexia shook her head slightly but couldn’t shake the seed of doubt her mother had planted.

She hadn’t meant to follow you, but something about the way he leaned in and whispered in your ear set off alarm bells. Eli had nudged Alexia, nodding as they saw the way your body stiffened, the flash of terror that crossed your face, and before she could even blink, he was pulling you toward the door, a tight grip on your wrist.

“I’ll be right back, Mamí,” Alexia said quickly, placing a swift kiss on her mother’s cheek. Her eyes never left the door as she followed you out into the corridor, her heart racing.

“No, please. Not here,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, but the fear was unmistakable.

“C’mon, you always do this. Loosen up a little.” His voice was laced with impatience and disdain.

“Please, I could get in serious trouble, please,” you begged again, your voice shaking.

“You’ll only get in trouble if we get caught,” he snapped. “And we won’t. And the good Lord himself knows you aren’t loud enough for anyone to hear. You're mute whenever we do anything.”

Alexia’s heart dropped at his words. What did he mean by that? Her pace quickened as she neared the corner, desperate to understand what was happening.

“N-no, I don’t want to,” you said again, but this time your voice was quieter, weaker, as if the fight in you was slowly crumbling.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered angrily. “I’m not asking for much.”

Alexia’s fists clenched at his tone, her pulse pounding in her ears. She rounded the corner just as you spoke again.

“I’m not having sex at my place of work,” you said, your voice trembling.

“We are having sex if I say we’re having sex,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “Now, tell me where the bathrooms are.”

Alexia froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she realised the full extent of what was happening. She could hear your sharp intake of breath, the panic rising within you. Without thinking, Alexia stepped forward.

“She said no.”

The air in the corridor seemed to freeze the moment Alexia’s voice sliced through the thick tension. You and your boyfriend both whipped around to face her, but the reactions couldn't have been more different. Your eyes, wide with shock, held a flicker of hope, you looked terrified. His face, however, twisted into something much darker – his initial surprise quickly morphing into a simmering anger. He wasn’t used to being challenged.

“Alexia, uh… Ms. Putellas, h-how are you?” he stammered, forcing a false smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was dripping with fake politeness, but the way his hand clenched even tighter around your wrist betrayed his frustration. You gasped at the pain.

Alexia’s gaze locked on that grip, her expression hardening with every passing second. “Get your hands off her.” Her voice sharp as steel.

For a moment, he didn’t move, as if contemplating whether or not to challenge her, but Alexia’s posture, her deadly calm, told him she wasn’t bluffing. She would not let this go. He shifted his weight uncomfortably but tried to keep his facade intact.

“She just said she wasn’t feeling great,” he replied, his voice now oozing with a sickly sweetness that made both your stomachs churn. “I was just trying to help her, but she can’t seem to remember where the bathrooms are.” He forced a chuckle.

Alexia’s eyes narrowed, her anger intensifying. She could see right through him. The tension in the air thickened, and you stood frozen between them, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Let her go. Now,” Alexia repeated, her voice dropping dangerously low. Her eyes blazed with fury, daring him to defy her. You had never seen Alexia like this before.

He hesitated, glancing between you and Alexia. His expression flickered for just a moment – fear, perhaps? But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating demeanour he wore like armour.

“She’s fine,” he snapped, the fake calm slipping from his voice as irritation began to creep in. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to get involved in this. It’s just a little misunderstanding. You know how she gets sometimes.”

“She said no,” Alexia said, voice cutting like a blade. “I heard everything.” Her words were a warning.

His jaw tightened, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. For a moment, it seemed like he might push back further, but something in Alexia’s stare made him falter. With a frustrated grunt, he finally released your wrist, shoving your arm away as if you were burning him.

“There. Happy now?” he sneered.

Alexia stepped forward, placing herself between you and him, her protective presence like a barrier you hadn’t realised you desperately needed. “Leave,” she ordered, her voice low and firm.

He glared at her for a long, tense moment. He spat a curse under his breath and turned on his heel, storming down the corridor. His footsteps echoed as he disappeared from sight, leaving a thick silence behind.

Your knees buckled. Alexia caught you instantly, wrapping her arms around you as you trembled, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“It’s okay,” she whispered softly, her voice gentle now, all the sharp edges from before melted away. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”

You clung to her, the sobs you had been holding back finally escaping as you buried your face in her shoulder. Alexia held you tighter, her strong arms wrapped around you, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles on your back. For the first time in weeks, you let yourself feel everything – the fear, the exhaustion, the relief.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you choked out, your voice muffled against her.

“Shhhhh,” she cooed, her voice soft, far gentler than you had ever heard it. Alexia wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t the person who handled emotions – she was the tough-love captain, the one who pushed everyone to be stronger, to keep going no matter what. If anyone needed comfort, they usually turned to Irene or Marta. But here she was, holding you as you broke down in her arms, her strong body a lifeline you clung to with all your might,

Alexia glanced down at you, finally taking in the full extent of your state. Her heart clenched as she really looked at you. Your body, normally so full of energy and strength, felt fragile in her arms, your bones too close to the surface for her liking.

Your eyes, once bright with life and determination, were now sunken and dark, the glow that used to radiate from your skin dulled. The light that she had always associated with you had faded, and it was only now that she realised how far you had fallen. Guilt gnawed at her – how had she not seen it sooner?

“You’re too thin,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to you, her brow furrowing with concern. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shook your head, pulling back just enough to look up at her, your face streaked with tears. “I didn’t want to burden anyone,” you whispered, your voice so small, as if you were ashamed of needing help. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Alexia repeated, her voice cracking ever so slightly. The idea that you thought you were a burden shook her to the core. “You could never bother me; do you understand that?” Her tone was firmer now, but still gentle. She cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You’re not alone in this. You’re never alone. You are so loved, so wanted. We've got you ... I've got always”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to have cancer

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

I've got cancer but it's probably (almost certainly, really) okay. Within a very short period I will no longer have cancer (at least for now). This is the best kind of cancer to have – the kind that is caught early and treated easily – but I've learned a few things on the way that I want to share with you.

Last spring, my wife put her arm around my waist and said, "Hey, what's this on your rib?" She's a lot more observant than I am, and honestly, when was the last time you palpated your back over your left floating rib? Sure enough, there was a lump there, a kind of squishy, fatty raised thing, half a centimeter wide and about four centimeters long.

I'm a 53 year old man with a family history of cancer. My father was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer at 55. So I called my doctor and asked for an appointment to have the lump checked over.

I'm signed up with Southern California Kaiser Permanente, which is as close as you come to the Canadian medicare system I grew up under and the NHS system I lived under for more than a decade. Broadly speaking, I really like KP. Its app – while terrible – isn't as terrible as the other apps, and they've taken very good care of me for both routine things like vaccinations and checkups, and serious stuff, like a double hip replacement.

Around the time of The Lump, I'd been assigned a new primary care physician – my old one retired – and so this was my first appointment with her. I used the KP app to book it, and I was offered appointments six weeks in the future. My new doc was busy! I booked the first slot.

This was my first mistake. I didn't need to wait to see my PCP to get my lump checked over. There was really only two things that my doc was gonna do, either prod it and say, "This is an extremely common whatchamacallit and you don't need to worry" or "You should go get this scanned by a radiologist." I didn't need a specific doctor to do this. I could have ridden my bike down to the KP-affiliated Urgent Care at our local Target store and gotten an immediate referral to radiology.

Six weeks go by, and my doc kind of rolls the weird lump between her fingers and says, "You'd better go see a radiologist." I called the Kaiser appointment line and booked it that day, and a couple weeks later I had a scan.

The next day, the app notified me that radiology report was available in my electronic heath record. It's mostly technical jargon ("Echogenic areas within mass suggest fatty component but atypical for a lipoma") but certain phrases leapt out at me: "malignant masses cannot be excluded. Follow up advised."

That I understood. I immediately left my doctor a note saying that I needed a biopsy referral and set back to wait. Two days went by. I left her a voice message. Another two days went by. I sent another email. Nothing, then a weekend, then more nothing.

I called Kaiser and asked to be switched to another Primary Care Physician. It was a totally painless and quick procedure and within an hour my new doc's intake staff had reviewed my chart, called me up, and referred me for a biopsy.

This was my second mistake. When my doctor didn't get back to me within a day, I should have called up KP and raised hell, demanding an immediate surgical referral.

What I did do was call Kaiser Member Services and file a grievance. I made it very clear that when I visited my doctor, I had been very happy with the care I received, but that she and her staff were clearly totally overloaded and needed some kind of administrative intervention so that their patients didn't end up in limbo.

This is a privilege. I'm a native English speaker, and although I was worried about a serious illness, I didn't have any serious symptoms. I had the ability and the stamina to force action in the system, and my doing so meant that other patients, not so well situated as I was, would not be stuck where I had been, with fewer resources to get un-stuck.

The surgeon who did the biopsy was great. He removed my mass. It was a gross lump of yellowy-red gunk in formaldehyde. He even let me photograph it before it went to pathology (warning, gross):

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54038418981/

They told me that the pathology would take 2-5 days. I reloaded the "test results" tab in the KP website religiously after 48 hours. Nothing was updated. After five days, I called the surgical department (I had been given a direct number to reach them in case of postsurgical infections, and made a careful note of it).

It turned out that the pathology report had been in hand for three days at that point, but it was "preliminary" pending some DNA testing. Still, it was enough that the surgeon referred me to an oncologist.

This was my third mistake: I should have called after 48 hours and asked whether the pathology report was in hand, and if not, whether they could check with pathology. However, I did something very right this time: I got a phone number to reach the specialist directly, rather than going through the Kaiser main number.

My oncologist appointment was very reassuring. The oncologist explained the kind of cancer I had ("follicular lymphoma"), the initial prognosis (very positive, though it was weird that it manifested on my rib, so far from a lymph node) and what needed to happen next (a CT/PET scan). He also walked me through the best, worst and medium-cases for treatment, based on different scan outcomes. This was really good, as it helped me think through how I would manage upcoming events – book tours, a book deadline, work travel, our family Christmas vacation plans – based on these possibilities.

The oncologist gave me a number for Kaiser Nuclear Medicine. I called them from the parking lot before leaving the Kaiser hospital and left a message for the scheduler to call me back. Then I drove home.

This was my fourth mistake. The Kaiser hospital in LA is the main hub for Kaiser Southern California, and the Nuclear Medicine department was right there. I could have walked over and made an appointment in person.

Instead, I left messages daily for the next five days, waited a weekend, then called up my oncologist's staff and asked them to intervene. I also called Kaiser Member Services and filed an "urgent grievance" (just what it sounds like) and followed up by filing a complaint with the California Patient Advocate:

https://www.dmhc.ca.gov/

In both the complaint and the grievance, I made sure to note that the outgoing message at Nuclear Medicine scheduling was giving out false information (it said, "Sorry, all lines are busy," even at 2am!). Again, I was really careful to say that the action I was hoping for was both a prompt appointment for me (my oncologist had been very insistent upon this) but also that this was a very broken system that would be letting down every patient, not me, and it should be fixed.

Within a couple hours, I had a call back from KP grievances department, and an hour after that, I had an appointment for my scan. Unfortunately, that was three weeks away (so much for my oncologist's "immediate" order).

I had the scan last week, on Hallowe'en. It was really cool. The gadget was awesome, and the rad-techs were really experienced and glad to geek out with me about the way the scanner and the radioactive glucose they infused in me interacted. They even let me take pictures of the scan visualizations:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/54108481109/

The radiology report was incredibly efficient. Within a matter of hours, I was poring over it. I had an appointment to see the doc on November 5, but I had been reading up on the scans and I was pretty sure the news was good ("No enlarged or FDG avid lymph nodes are noted within the neck, chest, abdomen, or pelvis. No findings of FDG avid splenic or bone marrow involvement").

There was just one area of concern: "Moderate FDG uptake associated with a round 1.3 cm left inguinal lymph node." The radiologist advised the oncologist to "consider correlation with tissue sampling."

Today was my oncology appointment. For entirely separate reasons, I was unable to travel to the hospital today: I wrenched my back over the weekend and yesterday morning, it was so bad that I couldn't even scratch my nose without triggering unbearable spams. After spending all day yesterday in the ER (after being lifted out of my house on a stretcher), getting MRIs and pain meds, I'm much better off, though still unable to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time.

So this morning at 8:30 sharp, I started calling the oncology department and appointment services to get that appointment changed over to a virtual visit. While I spent an hour trying various non-working phone numbers and unsuccessfully trying to get Kaiser appointment services to reach my oncologist, I tried to message him through the KP app. It turns out that because he is a visiting fellow and not staff, this wasn't possible.

I eventually got through to the oncology department and had the appointment switched over. The oncology nurse told me that they've been trying for months to get KP to fix the bug where fellows can't be messaged by patients. So as soon as I got off the phone with her, I called member services and filed another grievance. Why bother, if I'd gotten what I needed? Same logic as before: if you have the stamina and skills to demand a fix to a broken system, you have a duty to use them.

I got off the phone with my oncologist about an hour ago. It went fine. I'm going to get a needle biopsy on that one suss node. If it comes back positive, I'll get a few very local, very low-powered radiation therapy interventions, whose worst side effect will be "a mild sunburn over a very small area." If it's negative, we're done, but I'll get quarterly CT/PET scans to be on the safe side.

Before I got off the phone, I made sure to get the name of the department where the needle biopsy would be performed and a phone number. The order for the biopsy just posted to my health record, and now I'm redialing the department to book in that appointment (I'm not waiting around for them to call me).

While I redial, a few more lessons from my experience. First, who do you tell? I told my wife and my parents, because I didn't want to go through a multi-week period of serious anxiety all on my own. Here, too, I made a mistake: I neglected to ask them not to tell anyone else. The word spread a little before I put a lid on things. I wanted to keep the circle of people who knew this was going on small, until I knew what was what. There's no point in worrying other people, of course, and my own worry wasn't going to be helped by having to repeat, "Well, it looks pretty good, but we won't know until I've had a scan/my appointment/etc."

Next, how to manage the process: this is a complex, multi-stage process. It began with a physician appointment, then a radiologist, then a pathology report, then surgery, then another pathology report, then an oncologist, then a scan, then another radiologist, and finally, the oncologist again.

That's a lot of path-dependent, interdepartmental stuff, with a lot of ways that things can fall off the rails (when my dad had cancer at my age, there was a big gap in care when one hospital lost a fax from another hospital department and my folks assumed that if they hadn't heard back, everything was fine).

So I have been making extensive use of a suspense file, where I record what I'm waiting for, who is supposed to provide it, and when it is due. Though I had several places where my care continuity crumbled some, there would have been far more if I hadn't done this:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo

The title of this piece is "how to have cancer," but what it really boils down to is, "things I learned from my own cancer." As I've noted, I'm playing this one on the easiest setting: I have no symptoms, I speak and write English fluently, I am computer literate and reasonably capable of parsing medical/technical jargon. I have excellent insurance.

If any of these advantages hadn't been there, things would have been a lot harder. I'd have needed these lessons even more.

To recap them:

See a frontline care worker as soon as possible: don't wait for an appointment with a specific MD. Practically any health worker can prod a lump and refer you for further testing;

Get a direct phone number for every specialist you are referred to (add this to your phone book); call them immediately after the referral to get scheduled (better yet, walk over to their offices and schedule the appointment in person);

Get a timeframe as to when your results are due and when you can expect to get a follow-up; call the direct number as soon as the due-date comes (use calendar reminders for this);

If you can't get a call back, an appointment, or a test result in a reasonable amount of time (use a suspense file to track this), lodge a formal complaint with your insurer/facility, and consider filing with the state regulator;

Think hard about who you're going to tell, and when, and talk over your own wishes about who they can tell, and when.

As you might imagine, I've spent some time talking to my parents today as these welcome results have come in. My mother is (mostly) retired now, and she's doing a lot of volunteer work on end-of-life care. She recommends a book called Hope for the Best, Plan for the Rest: 7 Keys for Navigating a Life-Changing Diagnosis:

https://pagetwo.com/book/hope-for-the-best-plan-for-the-rest/

I haven't read it, but it looks like it's got excellent advice, especially for people who lack the self-advocacy capabilities and circumstances I'm privileged with. According to my mom, who uses it in workshops, there's a lot of emphasis on the role that families and friends can play in helping someone whose physical, mental and/or emotional health are compromised.

So, that's it. I've got cancer. No cancer is good. This cancer is better than most. I am almost certainly fine. Every medical professional I've dealt with, and all the administrative support staff at Kaiser, have been excellent. Even the doc who dropped the ball on my biopsy was really good to deal with – she was just clearly drowning in work. The problems I had are with the system, not the people. I'm profoundly grateful to all of them for the help they gave me, the interest and compassion they showed, and the clarity and respect they demonstrated in my dealings with them.

I'm also very grateful to my wife, my parents, and my boss at EFF, all of whom got the news early and demonstrated patience, love, and support that helped in my own dark hours over the past couple of months.

I hope you're well. But you know, everyone gets something, eventually. When you find yourself mired in a broken system full of good people, work the system – for yourself and for the people who come behind you. Take records. Make calls.

Look after yourself.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/05/carcinoma-angels/#squeaky-nail

[skelly-words]

Hey! If cool I was wondering if you could write tentacle smut. I’m not too sure on the plot but wanted reader to be very much in some sort of public setting with loads of people just watching as she gets railed by a tentacle. The kinks I wanted to ask if they could be in there is Voyourism (public sex), public nudity, squirting and/ watersports and overstimulation.

If not that is totally okay! I just wanted to ask :) and am exited to see what you come up with if your comfortable with writing this

okay cool so....

Not proofread, tags in the ask + spit a lil bit, ass eating, idk futa shenanigans, ahhhh milk (i kinda scared myself w/ this at the end)

My brain immediately went to big networking conventions that businesses have where the important people from the different corporate branches come together to drink, schmooze, and brag about sales numbers to each other.

Your boss asks you to come with her to help with the demonstration. The travel expenses and hotel costs are all covered, so you agree to spend the weekend on Wall Street with her.

I hate this, but there's the slightest bit of lore, so i ECOURAGE you to read the other parts first -> masterlist

MINORS DNI, stay away 18+ only

The presentation room of the hotel caters to corporate mixers like this. Circular dinner tables decorated with charcuterie fill out the hall. Your knee bounces nervously as people begin to file in. Saturday had been boring, spent bumming around the all-inclusive spa while your boss attended other company presentations not too dissimilar from this one.

"Relax." Your boss whispers. She sits in the squeaky folding chair beside you. Her hand lands comfortably on your thigh, stilling your knee with her warm touch. "All you have to do is bend over the podium."

You nod and try to emulate her flippant attitude. The bounce returns to your knee anyway because nerves are impossible to hide. The minutes slip by as people settle into their seats. The dimming lights act as a cue to hush the small talk and side conversations.

“Ready?” She gives your thigh a heady squeeze.

“Yea, ‘m ready,” you mumble.

Her gait is steady and comfortable up to the front of the room, and you trail behind in the shelter of her shadow. You smiled unsteadily at the sea of unfamiliar faces. Your boss tapped her knuckles on the podium, clearing her throat to get the rooms attention.

“Thank you all for coming,” she begins. “My branch is testing a few new methods of increasing productivity today. It’s all based on the same principle, ‘a happy mind is profitable one.’

“Of course, we’ll begin with the demonstration, just to prove how much it’ll help you focus on the rest of the presentation.”

An interested hum sweeps through the crowd as she leads you around the front of the podium. You aren’t wearing panties, only a skirt, which immediately becomes apparent as she lifts your waist up to the podium. The sturdy wooden surface slopes slightly up toward the room, propped up for dozens of eyes ogle your bare skin.

The position makes blood rush to your head, almost dizzy from the heavy heartbeat in your ears. Your skin feels hot and sensitive. The skirt tickles, sliding down the gentle slope of your back. You wonder if they can see how wet you are, cunt aching from all the attention.

The speech sounds so far away, like all your senses are dulling to make way for the electricity running beneath your skin. From the corner of your eye, you see a couple workers wheel three tanks up to the front of the podium.

The terrariums are large and damp, too fogged up from humidity to see anything through the glass. They're pushed into a neat line, starting at your side and progressing to the front of the stage in single file. The tank closest to you is the smallest. It's the only one you can properly look into because the creatures have suctioned themselves to the wet panes. Their round bodies flatten into mounds on the glass, little mouths busily opening and closing. You watch them, mindlessly observing them inch in little circles, around and round, maybe spirals if you spent enough time staring. You shiver, imagining the pattern it could suck into your skin. From your position now, you wonder if you look anything like that mouth on the glass to that polite crowd of people.

You feel a warm hand skim over your ass, inviting your neatly pleated skirt to drape over your back completely. The gauzy brown fabric went well with your blouse, and you remember packing it for this conference a week in advance. It feels silly now, to think what you're wearing matters when it's really the demonstration that's important.

The first tank slides open with a squeak, and your boss pulls a writhing blue tentacle out with a cloud of steam following it. You can barely see what's happening in your peripheral vision and only when you turn your head to the side. She wastes no time at all, taking the companies limited resources into account, the conference room was only reserved for an hour. Her other hand traces up and down your back, nails first, to scratch gently through the layers of fabric.

"You're doing great, hun." She whispers the reassurance into your ear, low and husky so only you can hear it. In one motion, she presses the end of the tentacle into your butt. It's bigger than what you had at home, which is what you prepped for. Her hand flattens to soothing circles when the pain comes through in your groans. You quiet to a whimper as the thing flails, twisting to orient itself inside you. It still hurt, but you were adjusting quickly to the pressure in your ass as it slithers down to find your pussy.

Now, no matter how you turn, you can't see what's going on. The suckers drag against you, that much is easy to discern from the sense of touch. The rest of your senses besides that have gone totally useless, so you watch the hypnotic pattern that the specimens in the last tank trace in the condensation.

The blue tentacle pushes into you. It's fat, thick and showy so the people in the back can see. Your eyes might be crossing from the way it slowly stretches you out. A shiny blue slime drips from every pore, sucker, and gland on the thing, making you squish obscenely from every movement. In. Out. In. Out. And your boss is still talking, you can even see the slides she flicks through when your eyes roll back, but it all sounds like white noise as the monstrous size shoves into your cunt, slipping out to momentarily attach an oozing sucker to your clit. Then it squirms right back into your hole, so slick that it runs down the inside of your thighs.

It's hopeless to imagine paying attention to anything else.

"But that's when we ran into the issue of hygiene. Clearly, this doesn't fit corporate dress-code."

That cuts through your thoughts, followed by light chuckles. The second tank slides open with a thunk, and you don't have to crane as much to see the pink tentacle calmy wrap around her arm.

"Oh, f-fuck," you finally make a sound audible over the disgusting squelch of that blue monster. She's trying to press the thick bulb at the end of the pink one into you, leaning real close, almost cheek to cheek as she forces it further past your rim. A glob of spit falls from her lips, you groan as she smears it around with her tongue.

"Just relax for me." And you're not even sure she's talking to you in that raspy tone. The hand on your back has inched lower to keep you pinned in place, and it's making you sore from how the podium’s edge digs into your hips.

Your sounds fall freely now, turning to whines as she licks you to ease the stretch. The hand on your back lightens up as the fat plug slides into place alongside the blue one. An affectionate smack lands on your ass, rubbing her warm palm over the spot as she watches the pink tentacle unfurl and flatten.

You can't see it, only whine as the weight shifts and adjusts inside you. The blue tentacle stops moving as if to behave and play nice with a friend. The gummy feelers attach as the pink tentacle latches on. It cups your swollen pussy, cleaning up the appearance quite nicely to the audience's disappointment. But your moans grow louder, echoing to let you know the sound made it to the back of the room. The little fingerlings lining the pink tentacles interior are so active. They pinch at your clit, making it slip between the soft jelly limbs while the others started playing with the rest of you.

"...And when properly stimulated, this specimen can be prompted to release its reproductive material on command." That faint comment reminds you of the eggs.

Your gasp is mixed between startled and concerned when her hand begins to brush the tentacle wrapped around your crotch. Being stuffed with the twitching blue tentacle makes you wonder where all the slimy eggs will go.

At her light brushes, the tendrils start to pull you apart. They slip inside you, just barely, enough to make your legs start to shake. You can feel them start to pour in as her thumb pushes down, squeezing out the soft spawn like horrific toothpaste as she slides the digit up from the base.

The blue tentacle comes back to life now, helping push the pink jelly into your poor pussy. You can feel the tiny limbs scoop and blue suckers fuck the eggs up against your sore cervix. And still, nobody can see. Your boss stands over you. Her hand trails between your thighs, tapping in the drying slick that's become tacky. She tugs at the tip of the tentacle, pinching firmly at the pink appendage and peeling it back.

Not all the eggs made it inside, rolling down your thighs as the mess is exposed. She's slow with her reveal, trailing her fingers through the juices to try the combination. You've gotten quieter, trying to keep your whimpers silent now that it's easier to hear. She starts to pull at the plug, and you have to bite your lip to keep it down. It doesn't wanna come out of your ass, still pulsing from so recently releasing eggs. Still, she tugs, making you squirm and clench your cunt. You've been on the edge for so long, and feeling the stretch to your rim makes your thighs squeeze together. They can barely shut to rub around your throbbing clit.

"I might as well introduce the last one then." She gives up on freeing the pink tentacle with a frustrated sigh and finally steps behind the podium to reach the tank in your eyeline. "They fit perfectly under your bra, so we'll both be demonstrating."

Your eyes follow her hand, from the lid, to inside the tank, to the buttons on her shirt. You strain to look up at her because she's standing so close, watching with jealousy as that thing sucks on her nipple. Her breasts look bigger too, spilling from her bra when she tries to squish them back into her shirt. A glance back down makes you blush. A bulge starts to bubble from her pencil skirt. It wouldn't be very noticeable if it wasn't a few inches from your nose.

"My turn?" You look up at her from between watery lashes, bending to smiling crescents when she nods. She lifts your chest just enough from the podium to let the green lump latch onto you. It doesn't seem to mind being squashed against the wood when she lowers you back down. They feel good, sucking at your breasts in a perfectly alternating rhythm. You start to feel weird, hotter as your tits get sore. The mouths pinch a little, not enough to hurt, barely more than a warning bite. You groan, the throbbing in your ruined pussy is getting worse. It makes you imagine what your boss is feeling. The pre dripping into her underwear. You probably could take her cock too if she asked you. She's still giving a presentation, talking through a slide as the buttons on her dress shirt strain. Her hand slips back to your butt, where it was yanking the bigger plug out of you.

She braces the opposite hand on your asscheek, rocking the pink tentacle back and forth to coax it out. You can barely hold sound back, dissolving into pitchy breaths when the fat blue fucker decides to start up again. It starts slow, but that pace doesn't last. After packing you with eggs, it's eager to let its cum out. Every loud thrust makes the eggs probe deeper. You can feel it in your tummy, pressed flat to the uncomfortably hard podium.

Your sensitive nipples pulse in time with the relentless suckers. You can't even care to be surprised as they spurt milk, moaning instead from the toy twisting in your ass.

The pink tentacle finally slips out of you, put back in its tank where it belongs. But you're sore, hole left gaping for the blue one to fill in as it swells. It gets bigger in your pussy too, larger with each beat. Even as she talks, her fingers can't stop playing with you, either pinching at your skin or dragging a digit through your slit. Her microphone is ther only thing keeping her intelligible over your cries, strung out from the pleasure.

Her fingers swirl around your clit, so sensitive. The touch isn't any more than light nibbles on your chest, but it makes you gasp and jump against her hand. You start to cum when she twists harder. The moans inside you spill out in one cry as you squirt. The pinch to your clit makes you spurt all over the front of her clothes.

She gasps in disgust and yanks you off the podium. The flooring is carpet, soft enough for your sore ass when you slump against the sturdy wood.

Your boss brushes off the interruption like nothing, simply indicating the conclusion of the demonstration as the slides flick to a new segment. She steps carefully between your legs when walking back to her place behind the podium.

The front of your blouse is halfway unbuttoned, however much was needed to get those creatures on, and now you notice how swollen they made your tits. You whine as the blue thing keeps moving between your thighs. There's more leverage at this angle and you don't know if you should moan or cry. In a few stunted thrusts, cum starts to fill you up, thick ropes of it that still somehow leak out from between all the eggs and the fat tentacle.

The pretty blue sheen coats your inner-thighs and the conference room floor. Something’s still wrong though. The ache between your legs isn't gone, not completely no matter how much your sore body begs to stop. It's the milk, or the hormones that come with it asking for just a little more. The demonstration portion is over. You're done, everyone's supposed to be focused on the woman speaking.

You slip a hand to your clit, circling the bud with shaking fingers. Just one more, and you'll be fine. Your boss doesn't even notice the room's eyes drifting lower. The blue tentacle indulges you, lazily moving in your cunny along with a few pumps of its warm seed. You can look at the lump it makes in your stomach from this angle.

This time, the orgasm builds fast and you have to muffle soft pants against your hand as you cum. Your poor pussy hurts, but you still need another and the tight circles on your clit don't let up.

There can't be that much more time before the hour is up and she has to get these things off you. Yet, your wrist is getting sore and weak dribbles of piss leak out of you at each peak. You notice people in the crowd hiding their arousal, and that somehow makes your crazy mind even hornier. Your abused clitty gives a heartbeat to your thumb each time someone palms their crotch or crosses their legs, still trying to be politely discreet.

The lights brighten as the presentation ends and a few odd bursts of scattered applause break out at a few tables. You still don't have the decency to leave your needy cunt alone, finally closing your legs around the blue tendril still curled up inside you as the people leave the room to pick a brochure up.

I had another anon ask abt going to find a new tentacle with the coworker from pt.2, but I kinda decided they were aliens (pink and blue both would normally use a host for mating and the suckers kinda do the same thing but for food, ig they're all just parasites sorry if that's gross), so i added a new variety into this one for you <3

A/N- how'd she do that? i would've gone ngh~ *squish* IMMEDIATLY, sry can you tell idk anything about an office job? oh well, stfu and enjoy the smut then (this is way over the top 😭) Also why did i give myself the displeasure of two (2) unnamed characters, give me names for Ms. boss or i'll start adding y/n (a threat)

[biggestxsimps]

A Night with Izu

Third year Izuku x male reader!! (same age.)

A/N: This was requested on our wattpad. Hope you enjoy!!

It was your typical day at U.A High School, and Class 3-A busy with activities. Izuku was busy training with his classmates, pushing himself to become the greatest hero he could be. However, amidst all the hustle and bustle, something caught the attention of his friends.

As they gathered in the common room after training, Mina noticed a notification pop up on Izuku’s phone, which was lying on the table. Curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned in to read the message. Her eyes widened in surprise as she read ‘Can’t wait to see you this weekend love!’ -Y/N.

“Uh, Midoriya?” Mina called out, trying to sound casual before her excitement got the better of her. “Who’s Y/N?!” she called out, a small grin on her lips.

Izuku just returned from the kitchen, holding his glass of water in his hand tightly, almost dropping it. His face turned red. “Uh, It’s… uhm, well…”

Kaminari perked up, he was always up for gossip. He grinned and chimed in. “Come on, Midoriya! Spill the beans! Do you have a boyfriend?”

The room went silent as everyone turned to look at Izuku. He nervously fidgeted with his hands, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I do..” he admitted softly.

Within seconds, a bunch of questions erupted from his classmates.

“How long have you been together?” Uraraka asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“How did you meet?” inquired Iida, adjusting his glasses.

“What’s he like?” Todoroki asked, his expression calm, but his interest piped.

As questions followed each other, Izuku took a deep breath, trying to answer to the best of his ability. “A year nearly now. We met at a convention; he was showcasing his art last year. He’s really talented and popular.” he smiled

“That’s so cool!” Mina exclaimed, letting a soft laugh fall from her lips. “You should invite him over sometime.” She hummed out.

Izuku smiled shyly, reaching a hand up as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “Actually, he’s coming to visit this weekend..” he trailed off, his friends filled with excitement, continuing to ask questions throughout the rest of the week.

The weekend came quickly, and Y/N arrived at U.A, excited to see his boyfriend. He was greeted by All Might in the teacher’s room. 

“Welcome to U.A, young man.” Toshinori spoke up with a small smile. “Midoirya speaks very highly of you. It’s good that he has someone like you.”

“Thank you, All Might.” Y/N replied, feeling a bit starstruck. “It’s an honour to meet the symbol of peace himself..” he whispered.

“Likewise. Non-sense, no need for formalities. Call me Toshinori.” he spoke, making small talk with Y/N, impressed by his talent and rising popularity within the art industry. Eventually, he had to return to his duties, waving goodbye as he left Y/N to wait for Izuku.

Y/N pulled out his sketchbook, beginning to draw. His pencil moved deftly across the paper. He was drawing a detailed and dynamic piece featuring Izuku in action. The drawing depicted Izuku in his hero costume, mid-battle, with energy crackling around him as he released One For All. His expression is fierce, yet determined. Y/N added subtle details to the drawing, including a small heart in the corner, a personal touch that hindered his admiration for the other male.

“Y/N!” Izuku called out as he entered the room. 

Y/N looked up from his sketchbook, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of his boyfriend. He stood up and walked over to Izuku, pulling him into a gentle hug. "Izu," he responded fondly, holding him close for a moment.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Izuku said, his cheeks still slightly flushed from training and excitement. "I had to finish a few things in class."

"It's okay, Izu. I was just working on a new piece," Y/N replied, holding up his sketchbook to show Izuku the drawing he had been working on. The detailed and dynamic piece of art.

Izuku's eyes widened in awe. "Wow, Y/N, this is amazing!" he said softly, feeling both proud and touched by Y/N's talent and dedication.

"I'm glad you like it," Y/N said with a smile. "I wanted to capture how incredible you are as a hero."

Just then, the door opened again, and the rest of Class 1-A burst into the room, unable to contain their excitement any longer.

"There he is!" Mina exclaimed, rushing over to greet Y/N. "Welcome to U.A! We've heard so much about you!"

"Yeah, Midoriya talks about you all the time," Uraraka added with a grin.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Todoroki said, extending a hand.

Y/N shook Todoroki's hand, feeling a warm sense of belonging. "It's great to meet all of you too. Izuku has told me so much about his amazing classmates."

After a lively evening filled with laughter and stories, the energy in the common room began to wind down. One by one, Class members headed to their dorms, leaving Izuku and Y/N alone, nestled comfortably on the couch.

The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the space. Y/N and Izuku sat close together, their bodies intertwined under a cosy blanket. Y/N’s head rested gently on Izuku’s shoulder, his breathing slow and steady.

Izuku glanced down at Y/N with a soft smile. “You know, I’m really glad you came to visit. I didn’t realise how much I missed you until now.”

Y/N looked up, his eyes shimmering with affection. “I missed you too, Izu. Being here with you and your friends, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Izuku’s heart swelled at Y/N’s words. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Y/N’s head. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he reached up to cup Izuku’s face in his hands. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

The two shared a tender kiss, their connection deepening in the quiet comfort of the common room. As they pulled away, Izuku wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling him close.

“Do you want to stay like this for a while?” Izuku asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N nodded, snuggling closer. “I’d love that.”

Masterlist

-Written by owner 2

[the-adventures-of-dave]

So I went to a cat festival/convention thing over the weekend. Very fun, lots of cute cats, I bought some cute magnets. My limit for these sorts of events is 1 thing for me, 1 thing for my cats (and birthday/Christmas presents if I see any).

Anyways, we were on our way out when we passed this.

Aaaaaand I bought something else.

It’s “for the cats”

I don’t think the gift was very appreciated

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 3)

Summary: Russell's returned and it appears that the reader's past employment problems are behind her. But when a shirtless Russell invites her into his home and their flirting rises to new levels, the reader will have to grapple with a new reality she doesn't know how to deal with. Russell Shaw might just be the first good guy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, smidge of angst, fluff

A/N: That ending though 👀

__________

The sun was shining high when you woke, streams of light filtering in through the large windows. You hummed as you sat up, Colter typing away at his laptop outside. There was no sign of Russell though, a frown forming on your face.

He hadn’t left already, had he? He’d promised to tell you what happened back home.

You quickly changed in Colter’s bedroom into your joggers and AC/DC shirt, deciding to try Russell’s gifts out. The bra felt amazing, especially after wearing the same dirty one for a few days in a row. Even the lilac underwear was softer than you expected. 

Outside you shrugged on one of Russell’s flannel’s, pouting when you saw his car was gone and yours was in it’s place.

“Morning,” said Colter, nodding towards where a cup of coffee laid waiting for you next to your chair.

“Hey,” you said, taking it without sitting. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Not a problem. You haven’t been getting much lately.” You glanced around and noticed he was packed up for the most part, probably itching to get on the road. 

“You have a new case?” 

“Yeah. Oregon, not too far,” he said. He reached into his pocket, holding out your car keys. You wearily took them, Colter glancing over the top of your head. “I told him to stick around but he wanted to make sure it was ready for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, Colter shrugging.

“Apparently Russell has a place 45 minutes from here. Some cabin on a lake? I didn’t know he had a house. But uh, he hasn’t been there in awhile and he went on ahead to clean and stock up or something. He wants you to head up there so you can talk.”

“Oh. That’s…sweet.” You chugged back half your coffee, Colter eyeing you suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Go have your talk.” You hummed, taking another sip. “You don’t owe him anything you know.”

“I know. We’re just friends.” Colter smirked. “You want to go down that road, Shaw? I can’t help but notice you and Reenie got that whole enemies to lovers vibe-”

“And that’s enough of that conversation,” he said, standing with a stretch. He reached into his pocket again, tossing you your phone. “Russell said it’s safe to carry again. Call if you ever need anything, Y/N.”

“Have I grown on you, Colter?” you teased. He rolled hie eyes as you handed him your empty mug. 

“Maybe. I’m working on the having friends thing.” 

“Well, you Shaw boys aren’t conventional but you’ve grown on me,” you said, opening your arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out.”

“This is why I don’t do friends,” he half grumbled when he stepped into it, rubbing your back once more. “Hey and if you do think you want to try rewardist work, call me. We’ll talk, figure out a safe way for you to do this stuff.”

“What makes you think I won’t just go back home and do what I was before?” you asked. 

“Did you really want to do that crap again?” You frowned, shaking your head. He stepped back, pushing you towards the streamer. “That’s what I thought. Go pack. I’m sure Russell will be looking for you soon.”

One Hour Later

After leaving Colter with a promise to stay in touch, you arrived in a small town on the edges of a lake. It took a few minutes but your GPS eventually found the right road to head down. You had to question it when it told you that you’d arrived at your destination. The cabin Russell supposedly owned look more like a very expensive rustic mini-mansion some rich people would vacation to on the weekends.

Still, you pulled into the driveway and found Russell’s beat up car there. Cautiously you exited your car and went up the steps of the front porch, ringing the doorbell twice. A large wood door whipped open and you’d gotten your wish.

There was Russell before you. Damp hair slicked back, a few water droplets trailing down his broad chest and disappearing into the waist band of his navy sweatpants. You could see his tattoos scattered across his arm, a few on his wrist and thumbs and good god, how long had you been ogling his body?

Your head snapped up, Russell cockily leaning with one arm up against the doorframe wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, please. Look all you want, babe.” You huffed and stormed past him, fighting the urge to turn around and see what his ass looked like in this skinny little joggers he had on. Nope. You had more self-control than that.

“You wish,” you said, surprised at the mixture of modern and rustic touches inside. “So you squatting here, Shaw?”

“I wish,” he chuckled, walking past you into the kitchen area, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla luring you to follow after. “I picked this place up after I got out of the military for cheap. Been renovating it room by room for the past decade.”

“Marble countertops?” you asked, rattling your knuckles against the white and silver veined surface. Russell leaned against the island, his biceps flexing with the movement. “I thought you said you aren’t made of money.”

“Maybe I want you to like me for me and not my wallet,” he said, looking at you through his eyelashes. “You know how much that visit to that little boutique set me back?”

“Oh, I think you can afford it,” you said, smiling as you slipped behind him, ruffling his damp strands. “Next time you want to buy me lingerie, just be a big boy and say so.”

“Here I was being thoughtful with no ulterior motives,” he said, standing and putting a hand to his chest. He frowned, closing his eyes in feigned pain. “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You can be thoughtful and at the same time admit you’d like to see what your choices look like.” He dropped his hand smiled.

“I really did buy them without expecting anything. I was there and thought a girl like you deserves something nice in her fucked up life.”

“I know, Russell,” you said quietly, offering him a smile. “I honestly do appreciate it.”

He nodded before going to his fridge and taking out a pair of waters, setting one on the counter near you. “You’re welcome. And if you were ever so inclined to want to show off my fashion choices, I suppose I could suffer through.”

“You’d really take that hit for the team wouldn’t you,” you teased. He hummed, crossing his arms.

“It’s a heavy burden but one I’m willing to bear.” You rolled your eyes and laughed quietly, slipping away before you got any closer to a half-naked Russell. 

You pretended to meander around the house, enjoying the openness compared to Colter’s airstreamer. A large fireplace sat in the corner and you could see through the glass doors to the back covered porch that another sat out there as well. 

“I made up the guest room.” You spun around, Russell pointing down a hallway. “Fresh sheets. Towels. I thought maybe you’d want to take a real shower and relax before you decide your next move.”

“Next move, huh.” You crossed your arms, looking out the back windows as dark clouds rolled in over the lake. “That your subtle way of saying I can’t go back home?”

Russell’s smile fell, quickly replaced with a neutral non-chalence you saw right through. He padded across the hardwoods over to your side, watching the clouds with you.

“I meant what I said last night. You’re safe. No one, and I mean no one, will ever come after you again. Go freshen up and we’ll talk after. I promise.”

“Fine. But only because Colter’s shower sucks.” You knew Russell was holding back something but you’d let it slide for the moment. A hot, long shower sounded amazing.

Forty minutes later you exited the guest suite with freshly washed hair, smooth legs and clean clothes. Alright, maybe they were Russell’s clothes he’d laid out on the bed for you but you weren’t complaining. 

“How was it?” he asked when you found him on the covered back porch, a hard rain coming down.

“I hate to sound like a girl but that was so much nicer than your brother’s tiny ass shower stall,” you said, enjoying the cool air on your flush skin. Russell refrained from saying anything about the black Stones shirt you had put on or the way you were drowning in his sweatpants. You ran your fingers through your hair, Russell watching you try to tame the mess it’d become. “You didn’t happen to pick up any hair ties or scrunchies when you clearly went to the store and got me stuff, did you?”

He reached into his pocket with a smile and a dark green scrunchie appeared on his wrist, your eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“I’m smarter than I look,” he said. You nearly asked for it when you decided to turn around, presenting your back to him.

“Can you handle a messy bun?” you asked. A spark rang down your spine as he gathered up your hair on top of your head, gently pulling it together and securing it. You patted it when he finished, Russell taking a bow to an imaginary crowd. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head. “Okay, how the hell do you know how to do that?”

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” You rolled your eyes. “I learned it at special ops school.”

“Russ.” He laughed, taking a seat on the outdoor couch, arm over the back of it.

“I have a kid sister. I used to do her hair and shit when she was little.” You grinned, Russell holding up a finger.

“Don’t. Say-”

“Aw. What a good big brother you are,” you teased, sitting down next to him. Russell’s eyes glinted with a retort but he settled for letting his fingertips dance over your bare neck. Your breath hitched, Russell, cocking his head. “I can’t concentrate on what we need to talk about if you’re going to keep doing that.”

“Does that mean you don’t like it?” he asked, his body inviting you to tuck itself in right under that open arm. He grazed his fingers oh so lightly over your neck again and fuck, you wished he’d just grab hold and smash your lips to his already.

“You think just cause you’re sweet and thoughtful and hot and save a girl, you’ll win her over with your horrible flirting, just like that?” He leaned in close, so close you felt the heat radiating off his breath.

“I already won and she knows it. She just likes making me chase her.” You shivered when he thumbed over the back of your neck, a cocky smile on his face. “And she is a woman worth chasing so I will as long as she wants me to.”

You leaned in just when he pulled away and stood up, taking a seat in the chair opposite you with a big, stupid, cocky as fuck, smile on his face. 

“Fucker,” you growled. Russell only smiled harder. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Oh, I pray I do,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, licking his lips. Your eye twitched, Russell chuckling deeply. “That’s my little queen of darkness I adore.”

“We will continue this conversation later,” you said, cutting him off. Russell nodded, taking the zip up from nearby and unfortunately tugging it on over his bare chest.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets, taking a deep breath. “You want to know what happened after you left.”

“That’d be nice, yes.” Russell pursed his lips, turning his head towards the downpour. “Russell. Come on.”

“I know you want details but I’m sorry, that’s not happening.” Your jaw dropped as he held up his hands. “You have had enough violence and death in your life. Now, I will answer your questions but I will use my discretion. You do not need…you don’t need that crap anymore. Please.”

Russell dropped his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. When he looked up, his green eyes were somber and your heart did that flipping thing again.

“Are they all dead? The whole crew?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “That was like twenty five guys.”

“...Technically, they killed each other off. That’s why you didn’t hear about it in the news. Police are keeping it quiet.” 

“How…you tricked them?” you asked. He nodded again. “You’re sure all of them-”

“Every last one. Sides were drawn. Elpine and some of his crew got involved too, killed in the crossfire. There’s no mafia left there. No one will ever look for you again if you decide to go back.”

“If?” you asked. Russell shrugged.

“You were forced to do a job you didn’t want. You don’t want to patch up scummy guys off the street. You get to live the life you want to now. You can do that back in Virginia…or you can do a clean slate. Start over somewhere new.”

“You mean here. Stay here with you,” you said. You stood up, going to the railing, a cold breeze hitting you.

“This is a safe place and you can take as long as you need to figure out what you want to do.” You felt him behind you, his hands settling on your arms. “I have enough. I don’t want to be a private contractor forever. I am more than happy to walk away and start fresh myself.”

“Russell, you are asking a lot.”

“No I’m not.” You frowned, closing your eyes. “Despite…I’m not asking you to pick me. I’m not that crazy. I know we’re still figuring each other out. I’m asking you to pick yourself. I’m asking you to trust now that I am not like those people you worked with. You never have to pick me if that’s what you want and there are no stings attached. Ever. Just don’t go back there. Start over somewhere where life will be kind to you.”

He rubbed your arms once before you felt him move away. You glanced back over your shoulder, Russell going to the fireplace and squatting down in front of it. A moment later, flames appeared and he was tossing a few logs from nearby inside.

“Russell.” He hummed, adjusting a large log with a sharp poker. He kept his back to you for a long beat, slowly rising and setting the poker aside. When he finally looked at you, his face was neutral, void of any signs of how he actually felt. You fidgeted, tugging down the hem of your shirt awkwardly. “Put aside the flirting. You and me…it’s not going to work out.”

“You’re sure about that, are you?” You scoffed, Russell holding up his hands. 

You stormed over to him, stabbing a finger in his firm chest. “I am not whatever you think I am. I’m not a damsel looking for her white knight to come save her. I didn’t ask you to take care of my problem. You decided to do that, not me. I don’t owe you anything.”

He slowly blinked, staring down with the tiniest hint of a smirk. 

“Why are you always fucking smiling?” you growled. 

“Well if you’re going to be the grumpy then I got to be the sunshine.”

“We’re not a fucking trope! I-I don’t need you. I don’t need you to buy me things. Or do things for me. Or offer to let me stay in this beautiful house. I’ve spent my whole life alone. There is no such thing as a good guy. All you want is in my fucking pants so let’s just fuck and get this fucking thing over with so I can go the fuck home.”

Russell’s eyebrows raised. He nodded, crossing his arms. “I’m not fucking you.”

“What? That’s…you’ve been flirting the second we met!” 

“Oh, we’re past the hookup stage. We do this, it’s cause we’re the real deal.”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, going inside, pacing back and forth in the family room. To your extreme annoyance, Russell didn’t follow you. He just sat out there next to his fireplace, watching the rain come down. He really wasn’t going to talk to you about this? He was going to ignore you?

You huffed, wandering throughout the house and finding it frustratingly gorgeous. While it certainly leaned masculine as did most rustic style homes single men lived it, it felt…cozy. There was a warmth to it, even in the large expanses, that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was built almost like a retreat, Russell’s safe place away from the world.

You sat down on the top set of the stairs, frowning with your head in your hands.

Was there such a thing as a good guy? No, Russell wanted you for sex. A quick fuck. Maybe a fuck buddy at most but that was it. Right? He was a single man in his forties. Ex-military and he still did contracted black ops work. He was a trained killer. A deadly weapon hidden under a boyish smile and pretty face. There was no way he was a good guy that actually wanted a normal life.

“Do you always talk to yourself?” Your head snapped up, Russell giving you an awkward little wave from the landing a few feet away. You groaned, wiping your face off when you felt the trickle of tears on your cheeks. Russell stepped up and stopped, sitting down a few steps below you, close enough to reach out and grab your hand. 

“I should go,” you said. Russell simply held out his open palm, your own hands now held in your lap.

“Whether I’m good or bad, I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide. I don’t live my life in the black and white. But I can tell you if I only wanted to screw you, I would never have invited you to my home.” You stared down at your lap, closing your eyes when his callused thumb wiped under your eye, pushing away a rogue tear. “You ain���t a damsel. You’re my queen of darkness, remember?”

Your lip twitched up briefly, Russell letting out some satisfied little sound.

“I meant what I said earlier. Stay. Rest. Figure out your next move on your own time. If me being here complicates that, I can duck out.”

“No.” You grasped his wrist, flicking open your eyes. His palm felt so hot to the touch, your heart skipping when he grazed your skin. “Stay here.”

“Okay then,” he said. He stood, leaning over and kissing your forehead. Then he was moving down the steps, whistling a peppy tune. “I’m going to make us some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Love me some grilled cheese.”

“Wait!” you called, following him down the stairs. Russell spun around at the bottom, smiling up at you. “Why…I…I-I don’t understand. You’re really just going to let me stay here? Without committing to anything?”

His face fell, brow furrowing. “You’re really starting to scare me, Y/N. When’s the last time there was someone decent in your life?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” you said quietly. “The idea of someone like you being so kind crosses a lot of wires in my head.”

“That’s why you keep freaking out when I’m not a dick and give you space.” You nodded, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt again. He smiled, reaching up, offering his hand again. You let yours slip into it, Russell lacing your fingers together. “Well, I ain’t like other men, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

“Why me?” you asked, taking a step down, putting you at eye level with him. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want someone normal?”

“A normal girl sounds boring. Now queen of darkness? That sounds like a woman that’s badass enough to put up with me. Let’s stop freaking out, go make lunch, and let me try to help you what you want to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Perfect.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, pulling you along after him. “So. Has a man ever cooked for you?”

You shook your head, Russell frowning. You yelped when he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with his muscular arms on either side.

“Alright then Y/N Y/L/N. I’m about to make you the best goddamn lunch of your life.” Before he could move, you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, keeping him so, so close. Russell’s gaze turned heated, eyes darkening. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you breathed out, Russell leaning in close.

“Don’t take me unless you plan on keeping me. Based on our previous conversation, we are not there.” Slowly, you unhooked your legs, Russell straightening, looking you up and down, eyes no less dark.

“Russ?” He stared at you, licking his lips.

“Fuck it.”

And then he slammed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away in the goddamn best kiss of your life.

_________

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[deans-baby-momma]

Chapter 1

Summary: When Jensen admits to going home with someone else, will his and Y/N's marriage survive?

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, language

Y/N hears the door open and shut as she is pulling the chicken out of the oven. She hurriedly places the pan on the stove top because her husband always comes straight to her and hugs her tight.

But today, there is no hug. He never makes an appearance in the kitchen.

Walking into the front room, she sees his bag sitting beside the sofa and his shoes sitting next to the door. She knows he was back from his weekend trip, a convention in Seattle with his co-star, Jared.

Searching their home for Jensen, Y/N finally finds him in the bathroom, sitting on the floor with his back against the shower.

He reeks of alcohol and smoke, the telltale stench of a bar. She isn't surprised because she knows how he and Jared, along with other castmates, like to end a convention weekend with a few drinks

What surprises her are the red eyes and tears sliding down his face. Jensen looks as if his best friend has died and Y/N rushes to comfort him.

Instead, he jerks away from her and refuses to look at her.

“Jens? Honey, what's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” is his reply. Y/N is more confused than ever.

“Baby, what happened?”

Jensen doesn't answer, he just sobs even harder and seems to be slinking into himself.

Y/N sits there on the floor with her husband, watching him cry and mumble, making out words like ‘hate’, ‘leave me’, and ‘idiot’.

She cannot figure out what he is talking about but doesn't want to agitate him by asking. She knows when he is ready to talk, he will.

Finally after a small amount of time, Jensen looks at her and tries to smile but it doesn't get further than his lips.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says sadly.

“I love you too. What-”

“I went home with someone else.”

And Y/N's world stops.

His words keep repeating over and over in her head. ‘I went home with someone else.’

Six words. Six little words that bring her life to a crashing halt. Ten years of marriage, two miscarriages and now her loving husband is admitting to cheating on her.

Once Y/N gathers herself, she stands and leaves the bathroom; leaving the cheating son of a bitch there on the floor.

She walks into the kitchen, seeing the table sat and the food on the counter ready to be eaten. With a scream she swipes the dishes off the table, the silverware clanking against the tile and the porcelain splintering into pieces.

She steps over to the stove and grabs the pan of chicken and chucks it against the wall; the burns on her fingers not even acknowledged.

The tears in her eyes blur her vision but don't deter her as she continues on through the house. Their wedding picture on the living room wall? A vase full of flowers and water shatters the glass and drips down the image.

“Baby, please?” Jensen pleads, now standing at the entrance to the hallway.

Y/N turns to him, his red, swollen eyes and mournful face does nothing but enrage her.

“Get the fuck out!” She screams, pointing to the door.

“Let me exp-” he begins.

A menacing cackle leaves her lips. “Explain what? What are you going to explain? You going to tell me how good she felt? How exhilarating it was to have your dick buried in someone who isn't me?”

“I did - we d-”

“I don't care. Get out!”

Jensen's face falls and his shoulders slump as he mumbles, “Can I at least pack a bag?”

“I don't give a fuck what you do,” Y/N responds. “Just get out of my sight.”

As soon as the door closes after her husband's departure, Y/N falls to the floor, letting her sobs take over.

FIVE WEEKS LATER

Y/N pushes the cart through the store aimlessly as she once again listens to another person tell her how desolate and heartbroken her estranged husband is.

This time, it is Mack, Jensen’s sister, on the phone.

“Mack, how do you think I feel? After all we've been through. The loss we both suffered. There's just no coming back from this.”

She continues to listen to her sister-in-law as she selects a box of pasta and then heads to the sauces.

“Listen Mack…and please relay this to Donna. I'm sorry it turned out this way. I really am. But Jens made his bed, now he has to lie in it. At least it's been kept under wraps and I'm not having to read about it or hear about it on social media.

“Maybe he and his new girlfriend will be happy,” she sighs as she hangs up.

Not only has his family contacted her in these last five weeks, but so has his friends, Rob, Rich, even Briana had messaged her, begging her to give Jensen a chance to explain.

But she can't. She doesn't want to listen to how he'd fallen out of love with her, and he was just staying out of respect. How he'd met whoever she was and now wanted to have a life with this other woman.

It would kill Y/N. She is sure of it.

But she'd be wrong. No, she feels like dying when, while in the checkout line, the headline on a magazine catches her eye.

‘I'm pregnant with Jensen Ackles’ baby’

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tagging my FOEVERS: @spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam   @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @@lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70 @nancymcl

If you would like to be tagged, please interact with me in some way: message, ask, comment.

[cwritesforfun]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader: Trick or Mistletoe?

He met his holiday match, except she is crazy about another holiday, Christmas.

Y/N = Your Name

*I do not own the Criminal Minds characters or plot *

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

You had taken over for JJ as media and police liaison as she was on maternity leave. You had worked briefly with the BAU before in NYC when they worked with the NYPD and you had also met Hotchner at a university talk during your undergrad career. You had also seen Penelope at a tech convention and exchanged numbers since you quickly became friends there. When Hotchner reached out to you after your application, he knew that the team already trusted your insights and could trust you as a person if you joined the team. You knew it was a risk to join for a short time and to be in place of someone so integral to the team, but you accepted the job anyway.

Everyone took a bit to warm up to you, but they accepted you as you opened up and soon enough, you could tell they were friends for life no matter how long this job was.

Spencer was slower to open up and often rambled in conversation with you, which you saw him do with everyone. You finally got to know the real him at Halloween. Everyone knew about Spencer's love for Halloween and they thought he was a little crazy for it. You understood he loved Halloween, horror films, dressing up, and the whole history of it. It was very cute to see how he expressed himself through the Halloween season. You got to see Halloween through his eyes and it was great. He took you to a haunted house and to a horror film where you both dressed up to show you Halloween properly. He had told you that you both went as "friends," which you understood and agreed. It's risky to date in this field and you were only here so long.

Your favorite holiday is Christmas and always has been. Your love comes from holidays with your family and how warm it makes you feel inside. You want everyone to feel that way. You asked Hotch if you could make advent calendars for 12 days of Christmas cheer for the team if it didn't disrupt their work and he loved to see you opening up more with him. He agreed and loved that you said it wouldn't disrupt work.

So you get to work early the day your 12 days of Christmas will start and you set one on every desk. Hotch is here early, so you hand him his directly. You keep Penelope's and Rossi's since they have locked doors too.

Everyone arrives and lights up with the gift. You give Rossi and Penelope one. They are so happy.

Every day, everyone walks in excitedly talking about what they think they'll get and they all compare gifts. It's hilarious and heartwarming. You love seeing them so happy. It makes you feel such joy.

Spencer stops by your office one morning with a coffee and says, "I hope you don't mind, but when I made your coffee, I made you a peppermint one since you love Christmas. It's okay if you don't want it. I just thought you might like it. You can throw it out. I should've asked you before." You take the coffee from him, sip it gently, and answer, "I wouldn't throw something this good out. You'll have to give me your recipe. Mine is never this good." He replies, "Oh it was nothing. I mean Penelope helped me. She's the one you should thank." You reply, "It reminds me of this peppermint chocolate brownie I get from a bakery near me. They make the best treats." He replies, "Maybe we should go together? ... I showed you my version of Halloween, it seems only right that you show me your version of Christmas." You reply, "I would love that, Spencer. If we don't have a case this weekend, want to go on Friday after work?" He answers, "Sounds like a date!" He then walks off. Did he mean a date date or a friend date?

You text Penelope asking to have lunch in her office together because you need to ask for her advice to which she immediately agrees.

At lunch, Penelope asks, "And would this advice you need happen to be about a certain peppermint mocha maker who may or may not love Halloween?" You answer, "Yes omg how did you know?" She answers, "He asked me for advice too." You reply, "Ok well let me start from the beginning then..." You tell her about Halloween, the "friend" comment, the "date" comment, and all that was in between. She replies, "He took the advice I gave him. I told him to ask you out." You reply, "Yeah but how do I know it's a date date, not a friend date?" She answers, "You won't unless you ask, but he like likes you. Have you seen how he looks at you? He likes you. He even lets your fingers brush when he gives you coffee. That's big for Mr I Hate Handshakes." You reply, "I know, but it's scary to have a crush." She replies, "It'll be okay. Just go back to work and try to take your mind off of the crush with grizzly murders." You reply, "Yeah, that'll do it."

Guess what happens on Thursday, you're called off on a case.

You all load up on the plane and Spencer slides in the seat next to you. He says, "I guess we'll postpone our date until after. I was really looking forward to it." You reply, "So was I." Morgan sees both of your solemn faces and asks, "Gosh, why do you two look so sad? Did I miss something?" You glance at Spencer and just say, "We just had plans this weekend. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and Spencer says, "Shhh, Morgan."

You're out of town until late Saturday night and as you walk back towards the cars, Spencer asks, "Hey uh Y/N, did you want to go on the date tomorrow? We have the day off and it could be nice to have a whole day of activities not just one night." You answer, "Sure, Spencer. I'll send you the address for the bakery as our stop one. I still want some sleep, is it okay if we meet at 10 am?" He answers, "Yeah that works for me." You smile and head off in your car.

The next morning, you get to your favorite bakery 15 minutes earlier than you told Spencer and you see him pacing out front. OH he's early too. You should've known he would be early, he's early to work every day.

You exclaim, "Good morning Spencer!" Spencer turns, sees you, smiles, and says, "Hi wow good morning, you're early too. Uh you look great." You reply, "Thanks, you look great too... I brought you a Christmas scarf to have that ultimate holiday look." He thanks you, puts it on, and you then head inside the bakery. You point out all your favorites and you both choose a few to split along with coffee that he pays for. You take them across the street to the park where there are picnic tables to sit at. You have a great time trying pastries with Spencer.

You then start walking and you go into a bookstore. Spencer gets all excited about a book he sees and you convince him to buy it. He also helps you find a new book to read after you tell him what you're looking for in a book. He finds a fantasy novel he's read that he said had a touch of romance. His eyes flicked to your lips when he mentioned the romance part.

You both then walk around the town some more before going into a diner for lunch where you get yummy food including a gigantic hot chocolate. It keeps you quite warm. It also puts a smile on Spencer's face and he takes a photo of you to show you what it looks like. You can't help but notice he took it on his phone and that he muttered "So cute" under his breath as he took it.

You then walk into a new art museum that you've never been into.

As you look at the art, you lean over to Spencer and ask, "Hey, do you know anything about this artist?" Spencer nods and says, "He was from the 1600's and he died very young." You reply, "Spencer, what was that summary? I'm used to your rambles." He sighs and replies, "I was trying to hold back. I know not everyone likes it when I do that." You place your hand on his shoulder and reply, "You can always ramble to me. I don't mind at all. I like learning from you." He half-smiles and then tells you about the artist. This couple standing nearby even ask Spencer questions about the artist, which you find nice. You're happy to see people like his rambles. You never find them annoying. They're usually factual and useful.

You continue walking around the museum and Spencer asks, "I know I always say hand shakes spread germs, but could we hold hands?" You nod and answer, "Sure." You slide your hand in his and continue exploring.

You leave the museum hand in hand and notice the sun is setting. You both sit in the park watching the sunset and reading. It's so great even if it's slightly chilly. Spencer had put his arm around you as you read and rubbed your arm, which kept you warm too.

You go to a new dinner spot, get pasta, and enjoy it together as a nice ending to your day.

You walk back and on one of the lamps is mistletoe. It makes you laugh and Spencer asks why. You point at it and say, "I just think mistletoe is cheesy. That's all." He asks, "Would it be cheesy of to ask if it's okay if I kiss you?" You answer, "Not cheesy at all, you can kiss me." He presses a light soft kiss to your lips before you both keep walking.

When you make it back to your car, you exclaim, "I really had fun today. I'm glad we could spend a whole day together outside of work too." Spencer smiles and replies, "I really liked it too. Um probably more than I should and probably more than I've liked a date... Is it okay that this was a date? I know I called Halloween a friend date? But I was too nervous to ask you out then. I hope calling today a date is okay." You answer, "It's more than okay to call today a date." He smiles and you press a kiss to his cheek. He's so cute. He asks, "Do you think we could do this again? Maybe go out to dinner later this week?" You answer, "Sure we can."

At work on Monday, Spencer brings you a peppermint mocha and practically skips away smiling. Morgan walks in and asks, "What did you do to Boy Wonder?" You joke, "He doesn't seem any different to me." He lets out a small laugh and says, "He just skipped and smiled. You two went out on a date, didn't you?" You answer, "We did, but don't tell anyone. I don't want to lose my job." He replies, "I won't... except Penelope will want to know you two went on a date. She has been shipping you two since Halloween." You laugh and reply, "Some might say it was a Trick or Mistletoe that started this all." Masterlist <- stay tuned for more holiday fanfics!

[mammons-lover]

Leviathan?!

Asmodeus: Leviathan! Levi, where are you?!

Mammon: Asmo, what's the fuss about?

Asmodeus: I’m looking for Levi. Have you seen him?

Mammon (shaking his head): Nah, I’ve been lookin’ for him too. Got this new racing game I wanted to play with him.

Asmodeus: Ugh, I wanted to do his makeup! Come on, help me find him. But when we do, I get to do his makeup first!

Mammon: Deal! Hey, Satan, have you seen Leviathan?

Satan: Actually, I was looking for him too. We were supposed to read together.

Asmodeus (excitedly): You guys read together?

Satan: Well, it's more like he reads, and I listen.

Mammon (smiling): Aww, that’s so sweet. Does he do voices too?

Satan (disappointed nodding): Yes...

Asmodeus (gushing): Omg! This is adorable!

Satan (annoyed): Can we just focus on finding him?

Asmodeus: Hey, twins!

Beelzebub (cheerfully): Hey, what's up? Everything okay?

Belphegor (grumpily): What do you want?

Mammon: Have you guys seen Leviathan?

Beelzebub: Lucifer took him to some convention.

Asmodeus (surprised): For real? Lucifer actually went?!

Mammon (confused): Yeah, I thought he said those places smelled bad and he didn’t like being on his feet too long.

Belphegor (laughing): He sounds so old.

Mammon (laughing): He is old.

Satan: Okay, we’re getting off track here. When is Levi coming back?

Belphegor: They’re staying for the weekend.

Satan (frustrated): How do you guys know all this, and we don't?!

Belphegor: Because I set up their tickets, and of course, I told Beel.

At the Convention

Levi (excitedly): Look, Lucifer! That’s the latest figure from My Little Devi's! Isn’t it amazing?

Lucifer (trying to look interested, but visibly overwhelmed): Yes, quite impressive. The detail is... remarkable.

Levi (bubbling with enthusiasm): And over there! They’ve got a booth for the new Final Fantasy game! We have to check it out!

Lucifer (nodding along, slightly lost): Absolutely, let’s take a look.

Lucifer follows Levi around the convention, trying his best to keep up with Levi’s boundless excitement. He’s a bit lost with all the anime and game references, but Levi is too absorbed in his passion to notice Lucifer’s occasional confusion.

Later, at the Hotel

Levi (earnestly): Lucifer, I just want to say... thanks for bringing me here. I would've had trouble coming on my own, and I couldn’t bring one of the others because, somehow, they’d mess it up.

Lucifer (softly): I’m happy to be here, Levi. We don’t often get to spend time together, just the two of us. Our personalities are quite different, after all.

Levi (smiling): Yeah, but that’s what made this so special. I had a great time.

Lucifer (sincerely): So, did I. We should do this again sometime.

As they walk to their separate rooms, Levi’s heart feels lighter than ever. He’s grateful for the unexpected time spent with Lucifer and the memories they’ve made.

To be honest, I was uncertain about the direction of the fic while writing it😭. Initially, it was going to focus on Mammon, but since I often write about him, I switched to Levi. I hope the narrative doesn't seem too scattered.

⭐️Dividers by @cafekitsune⭐️

Continuation We Missed You, Levi!