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orteil42 · 4 months

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some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry

(this is a long one)

starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons

there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on

cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself

people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS

a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut

these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen

next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful

game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!

my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly

the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear

very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation

just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before

unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however

the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this

planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding

heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface

enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence

hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice

companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up

storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun

baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!

scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius

some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe

procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams

jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on

some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]

i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque

i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god

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ryo-kaikura · 5 months

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Part 1

Yan Sub ftm OC x dom killer male reader x Yan Sub ftm OC

OC :Duri and Saru

Reader is 27 and OC's are 22

cw: killing, cnc, obsessive

I don't really know how to do this but ok

Duri's POV

O my fucking God, I didn't think this was gonna happen. I mean I was paid like $10,000 just to be here but I didn't know this was the house of a killer. At first when we got here nobody was in the house but then the owner came in and we wanted to knock him out so we can steal stuff but when he came in he help a knife and was dripping wet with blood.

All of a sudden, he was chasing us and got Chris and Marisa, then I hid in this bedroom and I can hear him coming. What can I do, I haven't even gotten a boyfriend yet T_T.

3rd POV

Damn these kids, ruining your furniture and shit. You know one of them is in my bedroom so you went there. Wow what a pretty boy such a same he broke into your hou- "wai-wait, sir please don't kill me I'll do anything please, I'l- I'll even give my body for you" "You mean you'll get fucked by me and I let you live?" "yes" "Alright, been pent up for months without a good fuck"

Without warning you threw him to your bed and took of your clothes and it seems he's eager too seeing how he's trying so hard to remove one button. After you removed your clothes and went to the bed and tore his clothes that took way too long. Now he's left in his -panties? Huh. Well would you look at that he has a pussy. "The name you'll be screaming is (name) got it" With a nod you continue

After making it wet enough you went in and God "god you're a virgin aren't you with pussy this tight and a lil blood on my cock you were a virgin" He can't even answer putting in your cock must've been heaven for him. "Oh yeah what's your name" "Oh-MHnn" You slap his ass "answer me slut" "Du- OoOh- ri" " Ok duri guess you're going to be my bitch till I get bored of you" Fucking hell this is the best cunt I had in month. After cumming like three time in him and him squirting and cumming like 20 times plus he looked so out of it you get back to killing two more of the kids, how you know well you asked you bitch how many friends he brought with him.

After searching for 5 minutes you found a girl well she was screeching so you killed her.

After 20 minutes of searching you got tired and wanted to get you new toy in your car.

And would you look at that, the last person was trying to get Duri to get up and leave. So you knocked him out, pick Duri up, put a vibrating dick toy in him and put it on low, tie up his hands, and go back for the last target.

And again another kid that wanted to get fucked by you. And another pussy boy. Seeing as there is no harm to let out more of that pent up cum you strip him till he has no more clothes, make him wet and fuck him till he's oversimulated cumming hard and got is he tight. After a while you're done with him but decided to just leave him there, you then figured out his name is Saru from his ID and that he own an infamous information place so you put you number in his phone then fuck his mouth and take a pic with it. You then leave him a check to a house then give him some of your old clothes then leave with your new toy struggling with a toy stuck in his pussy giving him minimal stimulation.

After getting tot he new house, you got him of and in the dead of the night you fuck him while getting inside your new house with all your trained maid and Butlers. The next day you gave duri an afterpill and put in something to prevent pregnancy.

On the other side of the country, after Saru woke up he was sad you didn't take him with you. Originally Saru told those idiots to break into this house then when you killed them all he can make you fuck him then you would have kept him but that boy took his place. But he's fine with not being your stress reliever because of the picture of your dick and the video of you cock going into his pussy and you fucking his mouth, god he's already cumming.

Oh, (name) this won't be the last time we fuck and next time we'll be together till we both die~

#dom male reader #male yandere x male reader #top male reader #yandere x male reader #male reader #x male reader

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houseofperfecttaste · 7 months

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Together Again (2)

warnings: fingering

"Alright I'm going to go drop him off and I'll pick you up at 1," Rafe said before leaving the apartment and I nodded holding the door open. "What should I wear?" "Something fancy." He winked at me before being called away by Rhett who was excited to go see his grandparents. I closed the door behind the boys and took a shower washing my hair and shaving everything(you never know what could happen.)

I decided to wear my gold sequined bell-sleeved dress that I wore for my 21st and did gold makeup to match it. I matched the dress with white sparkly heels and straightened my hair. The more that I looked at myself, the more I started to think I went overboard but I shook off those thoughts knowing that I looked good. I looked at the time on my phone it reading 12:54 and I touched up a few things finishing right as I heard a knock on the door.

I opened the door to reveal Rafe in a white button-down with black dress pants, a gold chain hanging around his neck, and gold rings on his finger. Holy shit did he look good. He looked rich and expensive and his cologne smelt like it cost more than my rent. Rafe's eyes widened his mouth dropping slightly boosting my ego slightly as he was speechless. "You look breathtaking, wow." He complimented and I giggled doing a 360 for him. I watched as he swallowed the lump in his throat and moved his hands down to cover his crotch.

"You look very handsome and hot Rafe." I winked grabbing my purse and locking the door behind me as he led me to his car opening the door for me. Excitement was coursing through me at the thought of where Rafe was taking me. "I'm so excited!" I cheered clapping my hands together as he laughed and looked over at me. "I'm happy you're excited for our date, would be a bad thing if you weren't." I rolled my eyes playfully asking him questions about where he was taking me but he wouldn't tell me a thing. "You're going to love it." He promised as he parked the car and helped me out.

"Oh my god Rafe!" I squealed looking at where we were. We were wine tasting and this specific winery had butterflies everywhere and a beautiful view of the ocean. "Your dream date right?" He had a cocky smile on his face as I was in awe. "Yes thank you so much, Rafe! I love it!" I wrapped my arms around his waist since he was taller than me and he held me tightly and grabbed my hand. "Shall we?" He smirked intertwining our fingers. "We shall." As we walked up I realized that the only people here were the workers, Rafe, and me. "Welcome, Mr. Cameron. Are you ready for your private wine-tasting tour?" My eyes widened in shock as he had a proud smile on his face as he placed his hand on the small of my back motioning me forward. This must've cost a fortune.

I know how much it annoys him when people can't accept gifts or gestures from others so instead of saying that he didn't have to do this I hooked my arm around his thanking him. "This is absolutely beautiful and incredible. Thank you so much, Rafe." "You ain't seen nothing yet." He whispered in my ear as we followed the guide. He started to describe the history of wine and showed us the wine cellar before taking us outside the beautiful ocean being exposed to us. I gasped at the sight, the sun was gleaming on the water, waves beautifully crashing onto the shore and butterflies were surrounding us and landing on our shoulders. "You look beautiful." He complimented me as two butterflies landed in my hair.

The guide described each wine as two servers stood by him handing Rafes and I glasses. The last glass to be served was Screaming Eagle Cabernet which cost at least $500,000. My mouth dropped and I know confusion was shown all over my face. I nearly moaned at the taste, it was easily the most delicious drink in the world and I tried to savor all of it knowing I'd never have an opportunity like this again. After the tour and tasting were done Rafe took me down to the beach holding my heels as we walked along the water. "Rafe, words can't even describe how perfect this date was." I grabbed his hand swinging our arms back and forth as he planted a kiss on my temple pulling me into his side.

"It's not done yet, pretty girl." His tone was playful and I was lost for words. This man had already outdone himself and there was more? "Do you trust me?" He asked stopping us and placing my heels on the sand. "Of course I trust you." I softly spoke as he pulled a blindfold out of his pocket. "Kinky." I joked giggling as he playfully rolled his eyes and walked behind me. "It's for the surprise." He tied the blindfold leaning down to my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck causing goosebumps. "I can use it for something kinky if you would like." He whispered huskily teasing me making me shiver and press my thighs together.

We walked for about two minutes before he stopped me and slowly untied my blindfold and holy shit this man had every fucking trick up his sleeve. Tears started swelling in my eyes as my hands were shaking, Rafe was the only person to ever treat me like a princess like I was his only priority. The surprise was an enchanting, angelic dinner on the beach with lanterns and rose petals lighting up the walkway. A beautiful dinner was stationed at the end with low pink lights glowing from the bottom of the table. "After you m'lady."

He pulled my chair out for me and my eyes scanned the table landing on the $500,000 bottle of wine placed in the center with two glasses. "I know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face. Nothing is too much when it comes to you." He grabbed my hand from across the table caressing the back of it with his thumb. "Have I told you how gorgeous you are?" "I think you've mentioned it once or twice." He chuckled the corners of his mouth lifting. "Make it three. You're so gorgeous." He admired me his eyes glistening with love and god I wanted to kiss him so badly. "You're so handsome. Buzzcuts really working for you.." "Oh yeah?" His eyebrow raised as he grabbed my chair sliding me closer to him, the gesture turning me on a bit.

I blushed as he stared at my lips and leaned in closer to me stopping inches from my face. "Can I kiss you?" "Please." He pressed his lips to mine and butterflies erupted in my stomach as he cradled my face. Rafe pulled away for a second to get a breath before kissing me again, with more passion this time. "I'm still so in love with you Y/N." He confessed resting his forehead against mine and I froze not being able to comprehend his confession. "I-I'm sorry it's too early for that." He tried to backtrack but I grabbed his face smashing my lips on his. "I'm still in love with you Rafe."

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Even though we both just confessed our love for each other he was still nervous to ask. "Of course, Rafe." We kissed again before the food was brought out and we just talked about nonsense before his phone started ringing. "My dad wants to know if Rhett can sleep over?" He put his phone on his shoulder and I nodded knowing this meant Rafe and I could have a night alone. I obviously said yes and we talked to Rhett for a bit before he hung up the phone and we returned to our dinner.

"How was everything, Mr. Cameron?" The owner asked as Rafe grabbed my hand a big smile on his face. "Everything was perfect thank you." Rafe slid him $200 before pulling my chair out and led me to his car. "Have a good evening Mr. Cameron." Another worker said as we left. Rafe opened the car door for me and I wrapped my arms around his neck leaning up to kiss him. "Thank you for the perfect night, Mr. Cameron." I mocked running my hands down his chest but his jaw clenched at the name and his grip tightened on my waist. "Get in the car baby I'm taking you to mine." He kissed my hand before closing the passenger door.

As we arrived at his house my mouth dropped, Tannyhill was nothing compared to this house. "Holy shit Rafe." I stared in awe as he chuckled unlocking his door causing my mouth to drop even more as I took in the sight of the interior. He gave me a tour of his house showing me Rhett's room making a dopey smile appear on my face. He opened the door to his room and it was huge which didn't surprise me, what surprised me was the pictures of us on his nightstand. "You kept these?" He walked over to me wrapping his arms around me from behind and placing his chin on my shoulder. "Of course, I sort of always hoped that we would find each other again." He whispered kissing my neck as I mentally cursed myself for leaving him, believing that he would leave me.

"God, Rafe I'm so-" He turned me around to face him and kissed me before I could finish my sentence. "Don't say it. You don't have to be sorry baby, please never be sorry. I love you." He whispered but my mind was still running with thoughts about what could've been if I stayed and he was able to be with me during my pregnancy, labor, and be there to raise our child. "Y/N baby I love you, I forgive you, I'm not mad. We're going to have an amazing life all three of us okay baby?" I nodded trying not to cry. "How about I run you a shower then we cuddle in my bed and watch a movie?" "You mean run us a shower?" I suggested as I started to unbutton his shirt seductively as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth. "You know how to drive me crazy baby." He kissed me before heading into his bathroom turning the shower on and grabbing us towels as I unzipped my dress. "Hey that's my job." He pouted cutely making me giggle at his complaint and I let the dress fall to the ground making him shut up.

I slid my panties down my legs watching Rafe as he watched my every move. I opened the glass door testing the water before getting in, Rafe following me. He stood behind me his large hands outlining my curves as the water cascaded down my body our bodies. "I'm so fucking in love with you." He mumbled against my shoulder as his hands slid to my breasts squeezing them. "I'm so more in love with you Rafe." I whispered back letting my head fall back on his chest as he started rolling my nipples between his fingers. "Feels so good." I breathed out closing my eyes. "Good baby wanna make you feel so good." His hands slid down my body to my v-line.

"May I?"

"You may." I reached behind me to grab his hair as his hand slid between my legs and he started rubbing my clit slowly. "Rafe." I moaned and he started rubbing faster his other arm wrapping around my front holding my body close to him. He gently slid a finger into me a whimper leaving his mouth as he felt how tight I was. After minutes of his fingers I could feel my orgasm approaching and Rafe knew it too by how I squeezed his fingers. Even though it's been years he still knew my body like we never broke up. "Yeah cmon baby cum on my fingers, cum for me." He whispered seductively in my ear as I let go all over his fingers watching him bring his fingers to his mouth sucking them clean. "Hm missed how you taste, never forgot how hot you look when you cum though." He smirked licking his lips winking at me.

I went to get on my knees to return my favor but he stopped me shaking his head. "Tonight is all for you my girl." We finished our shower washing each others body before he handed me a t-shirt and I washed my face being able to get my makeup off thankfully. "We can go shopping tomorrow and I'll buy you everything you need to be prepared to sleep over." He said as he put his basketball shorts on and got into the bed. "Rafe you don't need to do that." I shook my head turning off his bathroom light and getting into bed next to him as he clicked through movies. "I don't need to, I want to. My girl needs her items for her nightime routine." He poked my nose before pecking my lips and pulling me into his side. "You're so sweet." I kissed his cheek before laying my head on his chest pulling the blanket up around me passing out about ten minutes later.

Note: I'm so so so so sorry that it took so long I got my ass kicked by school and work. I also apologize if this sucks love you all

Taglist: @baby19sthings @quinnstarkeylove @drewstarkeysbae

#outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine

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tickle-bugs · 1 year

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I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3

Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO

anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.

Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3

...................

Ahoy, Sailor

You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons.

It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way.

Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.

He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer.

“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.

“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face.

“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.

“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself.

“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk.

“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes.

“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended.

“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside.

“By wearing…your clothes?”

“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”

“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense.

“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well.

“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head.

God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill.

Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh.

“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches.

“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks.

“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.

Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying.

“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him.

“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!” Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek.

“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.

Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face.

“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom.

“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.

God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell.

Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.

Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh.

Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone.

“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt.

Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly.

“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply.

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one.

Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him.

“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.

Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.

The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters.

“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does.

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again.

The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both.

Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture.

Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.

“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly.

Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life.

#my fics #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #ticklish!steve harrington #ticklish!eddie munson #me answering this ask and sweating: dont write an essay dont write an essay there's already a fic attached to this dont--#anyways thank you anon ive been sitting on these kind words for a little bit and it really means a lot to me. <3 #kind anons carry this blog on their backs fr #also codependent besties stobin are everything to me. robin steals steves clothes and then he just starts giving them to her #also at the end robin definitely is saying that eddie laughs like a goblin and steves like yeah. he does <3 #continuation of the 'robin has a key to steve's house' saga

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moon-alight · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could you do bf Yuma reaction to reader getting bombarded with paparazzi?

Sorry that I'm writing this so late. I try my best to be somewhat active but I worked 10 hours yesterday so I'm spent but I'll do it anyways. I made it a bit different. Instead of paparazzi it's more like bullies.

Masterlist

Diamonds - &Team Yuma

Synopsis: Your relationship with Yuma is suddenly revealed to the public and you're bombarded with bullies in school. (This story takes place in South Korea by the way, just so you know)

Warnings: fluff, stalking, slight violence, swearing, name calling, use of the word 'slut', mentions of suicide, very mean words,

Word Count: 1421

Aimi means love, beauty. It's apparently a Japanese nickname. :)

1 year. That's how long it took for people to find out who you are. It's how long it took for your name to be trending on twitter and it's how long it took for people to bash you.

1 year ago, Yuma confessed his feelings to you. Of course, you were over the moon and quickly jumped into the relationship. You've supported him through everything and now you're here.

Your phone blew up the moment you woke up. Notifications from apps and texts from friends and family got you to realize what had happened yesterday.

~~~

It's your one year anniversary. Yuma had told you he would pick you up at 7 which he did. . . 7.30. Luckily you love him so you accept the fact that he was thirty minutes late.

"I'm so sorry, I wanted to leave sooner but they wouldn't let me. I had to finish dance practice first." He looks down when he tells you this. You smile and roll your eyes.

"It's good, I understand." You reply, nicely. Yuma stares at you in disbelief.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Just be mad at me." Yuma suddenly says. You look at him with a grin on your face.

"What?" You ask, trying not to laugh.

"Yell at me for being late. Make me feel bad about it."

"Yuma, I understand."

"Oh no, you called me Yuma. I must've done something really bad." There he is. Your always dramatic boyfriend. You chuckle and kiss his cheek. He smirks. "Come on, Aimi, let's get going." He takes your hand and drags you down the street.

"So, what exactly are we going to do?" You ask, curiously. All Yuma had said in his text yesterday was 'be cute, as always and I'll do the rest' but it's not enough for you. You desperately wanted to know.

"That's for me to know and for you to guess." Yuma replies, cheekily. You sigh, accepting the fact that you're not going to get anything out of him.

After walking for 10 minutes, you arrive at the Han River. The sun is already going down slowly which gives a beautiful view of the now red-orangy water.

"I know it's cheesy but I didn't know what else to do, so, uh. . . here we are." You stop next to a big tree. Yuma lets go of your hand and walks over. He presses a small button and suddenly the tree lights up.

Hundreds of fairy lights decorate the branches and stump of the tree. You're staring at the yellowish lights in pure amazement. Yuma puts down the picnic blanket and pulls you down carefully until you're sitting underneath the canopy of the tree.

"Oh this was worth waiting 30 minutes." You breathe out. Yuma laughs next to you and pushes a plate with strawberries towards you. "How did you do all of this?" Yuma looks down, hiding the slight blush of embarrassment. He rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

"The guys helped a little." Yuma admits. "Nicholas climbed the tree so we could hang the fairy lights in them and Fuma found the strawberries in a small shop downtown." You smile and take one of those beautiful red fruits. You take a bite and giggle.

"Delicious." Yuma smiles at you. "Thank you for all this."

"Thank you for putting up with me for a year straight." You both laugh at his comment. "I love you, Aimi."

"I love you too."

~~~

And apparently someone had spotted you two, recognized Yuma and taken pictures from the entire night. They were posted online when you were asleep and now you have to face the consequences.

The hardest part was leaving your house. Luckily your address wasn't spoiled yet, that would've been hell.

You walk through the city on your way to school. Your heart beats in your chest rapidly. Maybe none of your classmates have twitter or maybe they don't follow kpop/jpop news as much.

Unfortunately for you, they do. When you walk through the gates, you feel the stares from everyone. You keep your head low and try to block out everything but it's getting hard when you feel like you're drowning.

As long as they only stare. . . it's fine--

"Hey J-slut!" Oh fuck. "Desperately wants to get famous so she just fucks around idols. Pathetic!" You try to ignore them but the laughs of the group and more voices make your head spiral.

"I bet she's done it with the entire group at this point!"

"She isn't even pretty!"

"You would say nobody wants a pathetic little whore like that in their lives!"

ENOUGH!

You rush inside, past all the groups of people glaring at you and hide yourself in the bathroom. You can't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. You grab your phone out of your pocket and open WhatsApp.

You hesitate.

What if they were right? What if Yuma never wants to speak to you again now? Surely his career is more important than you, right? He's had this dream for forever and you ruin it for him in one night.

Maybe you can still fix it. Break up with him and have it be filmed and put on social media so everyone knows he's single again. Maybe that would safe his idol-career so he can continue living his dream.

Your phone rings in your hand, you look down at the caller ID and sigh. 'My love'. You decline and put your phone on silent. Maybe it will be better if you just ignore him.

After three hours of class, you have lunch break. You would usually sit with a bunch of people but they haven't even looked in your direction the whole day so you decide against it and sit alone.

"Why do you feel so entitled, huh?" A group of girls stand in front of you. You look down, continuing to poke your food. The girl scoffs. "You're ugly, sad, alone and nobody likes you. I bet that boyfriend of yours only uses your body." She leans closer. "Your pathetic fat body."

You want to reply. You really do. Come up with some amazing thing that would make her the embarrassed one but you can't. Fear stops you from doing so.

"Why don't you do everyone a favour and just kill yourself?" Tears bottle up in your eyes even if you try so hard to get rid of them.

"Ow, is the little bitch gonna cry?" Another girl asks with fake sympathy. "If you died, nobody would give a fuck. The world might even be a better place without you in it."

You stand up, showing defeat towards everyone in the cafeteria and run outside.

For the second time today, you find yourself in the school's bathroom. For the second time, you let tears block your vision but for the first time, you accept it.

What did you do?

Everyone hates you, so you must've done something, right? What did you do? Surely they can't hate you for falling in love with someone, right? Right?

You unlock your phone and see, to your surprise, 20 missed calls from Yuma and 43 text messages. Not to mention, even the other guys have tried to call and text multiple times. Why?

If nobody cares about you. . . why would they call?

You put your phone back in your pocket and stand up. Maybe skipping the last three hours isn't that bad of an idea. You take your bag off the floor and walk outside the school, all the way until you're home.

When you're safe in the comfort of your home, you listen to the voicemail Yuma had left.

"Hey, bug. I know you must be feeling terrible right now. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop the article from releasing. I hope you're okay. I love you, remember that, yeah?"

You can't believe his words. Not after what those girls said sounded so real. But, another voicemail hits your inbox. . . this time from EJ.

"Hey, y/n. I know you're in school right now and I'm not trying to get you in trouble or anything but I wanted to check up on you. We're friends, you know. We all care about you. Sure, not as much as Yuma does, but we like you. You joined the family a year ago and we wouldn't change that for anything.

Hybe is currently getting all those terrible articles offline but I imagine the damage has already been done. I'm so sorry this happened. If you ever need a friend to talk to who would understand you. . . well, you have 8 who would listen to you in a heartbeat.

Just wanted to let you know that you're not alone. Also, Yuma has been a bit out of it today. Maybe it would be good to answer his calls. I'm sure you both would feel better. Much love, EJ."

You can't help but smile at this message. He's right. You're not alone. The moment your phone rings again for the umpteenth time today, you pick up.

"Hello?" Silence. "Helloo?" More silence. "Yuma, are you there?"

"I THOUGHT YOU WOULD NEVER PICK UP!!!" You quickly hold the phone away from your ear at his scream. "I though someone kidnapped and killed you or something. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." You lie. Again silence. "Yuma?" A knock on your door makes you frown. You stand up and walk over. You open the door and see Yuma stand there with a small smile on his face. You hang up the phone and stare at him.

"You're not fine." He opens his arms and without hesitation, you step into his embrace. He rubs up and down your back soothingly. His warmth calms you down. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything."

"It's fine, whatever."

"You're home which means you skipped school." Yuma replies, pulling away from the hug. "You never skip school."

"Yeah well. . . I have never been called a whore before." Yuma's smile drops. He looks at you with sad eyes.

"They did?" You nod.

"It's not even the worst thing they've said."

"Don't listen to them, whatever they have said. . . it's not true. You are the most wonderful person. You were always there for me and the one time I should've been there for you, I wasn't."

"Maybe we should break up."

"I mean--- WHAT?!"

"I don't want to be in the way of your dreams, Yuma. Maybe we're not meant to be together." You reason. "Your dreams are more important than a relationship, right?"

"That's funny, lately I have only been dreaming about you." Your lips part in a little gasp. "Guess you're my dream now."

"Yuma--"

"I love you and I will fight for this." He says, pointing between you and him. "They will have to kill me if they want to take me away from you."

"What do I do about those bullies?" You ask, insecurely.

"Bug, you might not realize but. . ." He takes your hand and takes you towards the window in your house where the sun shines inside. The rays of sunshine hits your skin, making it look like you glow. "Your skin is made of diamond and diamonds are unbreakable." He traces the sunshine on your arm.

"Surely a bunch of words can't break through the diamonds on your skin, right?" You smile at him and shake your head. "That's my girl."

#&team #&team fluff #&team angst #&team headcanons #&team imagines #&team scenarios #&team drabbles #&team yuma #&team yuma fluff #&team yuma angst

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mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year

Note

I was wondering if we could get some more A.sgore vore with d.isposal? Like, maybe he tries to use people and monsters as fertilizer for his gardening or somethin.

I like this idea! I can definitely do a little something for it.

A.sgore hums softly as he trims back the large hedge he was working on. It was a bright, sunny day, and the big goat has spent most of it outside working on the garden. It was the kind of day where plenty of people come walking by, human and monster alike, which is perfect for him.

A.sgore's stomach sloshes in front of him, someone kicking weakly inside. It makes the goat belch softly but otherwise doesn't interrupt his trimming. This is why he liked to wear that pink button-up shirt when he did his gardening--no fear of ripping it when his stomach expands as he snacks. The massive, white expanse can simply hang out in all its glory, bubbling and churning and sloshing as he worked.

Plenty of people like to stop by and appreciate A.sgore's garden. He's always happy to show it off, too. He never does grow tired of talking about it, either, so he'd always stop to talk to anyone willing to listen. And anyone who appreciates his garden that much should be more than happy to help out with it in their own way.

A.sgore's stomach lets out a low rumble and it's soon followed by a rather bassy fart. He blushes darkly and rubs his stomach with a chuckle. "Golly, did you really have to make me do that..? I'm glad no one was around to hear that one." The goat had been working all day, which also means he's been snacking on passerby all day, so while some are still able to kick around in his gut, plenty of others are already densely packed away in his bowels. It's sure making for a noisy gut--it won't stop groaning and gurgling and whining out. A.sgore's long since gotten used to all the sounds though and he's right back to finishing the trimming.

As the daylight wanes and it gets closer to sundown, A.sgore finally puts the clips aside and wipes his brow. It was definitely a productive day, both for him and his stomach. He must've snacked on some twenty people or so as the day carried on, and the last of them had finished flushing through his system some time ago. All the new heft they gave him will make it hard to button up his shirt again...but he's more focused on the constantly building pressure deep in his guts. When another bassy fart rumbles out of him, A.sgore winces and waves the air away. "Golly, I hear you, no need to make a stink about it." With a soft chuckle at a joke no one else heard, A.sgore goes to fetch his wheelbarrow. There's a bit of privacy in the small shed that he keeps it in, so he's able to drop his pants and plant his massive ass over the side of it. "I've done my work, now...nngh...time for you to do...yours..."

With a few grunts and a bit of straining, the first dense log begins to peek out from those furry cheeks and slide into the wheelbarrow below. After spending an entire day cooking in his bowels, all that fresh shit has gotten packed into very dense logs. When the first one breaks off, it makes a loud thud as it hits the bottom of the wheelbarrow, and the rest are likely to do the same. It'll take A.sgore a while to dump so much shit, but he's always been a patient man.

As the wheelbarrow fills more and more, each log reveals what it used to be with the stray odds and ends packed into the otherwise brown mass. Bones are packed tightly into each one--many human, but a few recognizably monster--and scraps of clothes as well as whatever junk might have gone down the hatch like phones and wallets also decorate the goat's dump. A.sgore can't help but let out a moan every time a particularly large or awkward log of crap stretches him out just right, and he ends up firing off a load onto the floor under him when the skull of a dragon he'd snacked on gives his ass a run for its money. It's mostly buried under the smaller, softer shit the slops out after it, and when A.sgore is done, only the horns are able to poke out of the mass.

With a laborious sigh, A.sgore yanks his pants back up and grabs a shovel. The wheelbarrow is nearly overflowing with a mountain of crap, and the stink is horrific to boot. But A.sgore pays the horrible sight no mind, even whistling a pleasant tune as he wheels it out to the garden. He'd spend the rest of the daylight he had shoveling shit down into the dirt, making sure his entire garden had a fresh layer of goat manure padding it out. Whatever bones or other odds that stick out of the layer of manure get buried quickly with the shovel, and before long, no one would even know that A.sgore's guard also served as a mass grave for an untold number of innocent souls.

With the sun disappearing over the horizon, A.sgore gets his things put away and heads back inside, happy with his hard day of work. Come next week, he'll clean up anything that didn't decompose or sink into the earth, and then he'll start the process all over again. Fresh manure was always the best for keeping a garden healthy, after all. And A.sgore always made the freshest.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #vore story #mass vore #digestion #fatal vore #disposal #undertalevore #asgoredreemurvore #ask

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oyesmendes · 2 years

Text

a summer of love - 3

a/n: scheduling this while i'm on holiday! rest of the chapters will come soon, i promise. and i think we all need this after that shitstorm in hungary...hope you guys enjoy this one and cant wait to hear what you all think!

read all other parts here!

Australia

"But the way George had his arm around her says otherwise!" Carlos argues with Lando, who had his arms folded, standing in front of him.

They're all in Lando's room, piled on the bed like teenagers talking about puppy love. Well, it was exactly that. Just that this wasn't puppy love... and they weren't exactly teenagers...

"And? You almost kissed the woman! And for crying out loud, it's George, they're siblings, they used to live together. That's why they act like that." Lando tells him.

Charles also chimes in, "Mate, just ask her out and see how it goes."

Carlos has a skeptical look on his face, “Like, a date?"

"Yes, like a date, Carlos. How else would you ask her out?"

"Why are you so nervous anyway, it's not as if it's your first time asking her out." Lando asks.

He furrows his brows, "I don't know- she's just special."

"Then ask her out - and make her feel special."

Last push to the chequered flag - she’s right behind the other silver arrow. A grin forms across her face, knowing that this would be good.

“And that's P4, nicely done Sofía."

"Yes guys!” She can hear the screams and cheering in the garage, “Thank you to everyone, especially those back at the factory. We will only move forwards from here."

“Sofía, Toto here. I’m so proud of you for this, enjoy your first top 5.”

She pulls in at the Parc Ferme, climbing out of the car and running towards George who was already celebrating with the team. They hug tightly and he lifts her off the floor.

"That was a good one, Georgie. P3!” She pats his helmet.

"Have to say the same for you too, Sof."

She looks around to see where Carlos was, "what happened to the Ferraris?"

"Charles is right there-“ George points at the race winner, but then he watches her look around more and he knows what she actually means.

"Carlos didn't finish from what I've heard."

She frowns, pulling off her helmet, "Oh damn, that must've sucked."

But Sofía didn’t have time to think about it.

She’s being thrown in all different directions after the race, with every single media outlet wanting a piece of her.

First top five of her rookie season. - everyone knew she was something. Sofía looks around occasionally, but doesn't see Carlos once in the media pen; she could only presume he was done with his duties after not completing the race.

So she focused on entertaining the reporters with her well practiced lines, one by one.

"It was a good battle out there, enjoyed every moment of it."

"Can't wait to see what the future races hold."

"Fingers crossed we get to produce the same results again."

And by the time she's done, she had exhaustion written all over her face.

"They really don't consider the fact that we've been driving for more than an hour straight huh." She rubs her neck, entering the motorhome. Emily hands her a post-race protein shake, and she meets with George who had also just come in.

"Debrief's in 10, and we'll head out for some dinner tonight?" Emily tells them both. They both agree, then head off to their driver rooms.

Eventually, they make it back to the hotel, with less than an hour to get ready. Sofía was in a robe choosing her dress, when George had let himself into her room with his spare key, having showered and changed quicker.

"Help me with this while I change?" She hands him a tangled silver necklace. He gladly takes it, beginning to work on the jewellery.

Sofía was stood in front of a mirror zipping up her dress when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," Sofía tells George, assuming it was Emily at the door. But no, Carlos was standing in front of her, hands in his pockets. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

"Carlos, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

He was dressed in a button up shirt and jeans, a nervous look on his face.

"Can I take you out to dinner? To celebrate your first top 5." He asks- or blurts.

Before Sofía could respond, Carlos hears a voice shout from behind her.

"I untangled it!" George then emerges, in a striped shirt and khaki pants, holding a silver necklace in his hands. The air seems to be caught in Carlos' lungs as the scene unfolds in front of him. Carlos looks to George, then to Sofía, and he came to a realisation at what was happening.

She clears her throat, taking the necklace from George's hand,

"Um actually we're going out to celebrate, do you-"

"No no no!" George cuts her off, "go along with him."

"I can always come back another-" Carlos interjects, but is quickly cut off.

"Carlos, no please - take her out. God knows she hangs out way too much with us Merc boys."

Sofía frowns, "Are you sure? we can always go together-"

"Sof,” George warns, “there will be many more top fives that we can share. Just go with Carlos." He gives her a knowing look, one that tells her she shouldn’t argue any further.

"Alright," She smiles at Carlos who's standing a little awkwardly by the door. He was reconsidering his every moves, but it was too late to take any of them back.

"Let me get my bag, do you want to come in?" She stands aside, and George takes his cue to leave.

He gives her a side hug and a peck on the top of her head, which rubs Carlos the wrong way.

"I'll see you later." George tells her.

"Text me okay? And don't have too much fun, you know what Toto said." She warns, a playful smile on her face.

"I will, and you," George turns to Carlos, "have fun with this one. Take care of her will ya?"

"I sure will mate."

"I'm sorry I didn't think about asking in advance-" Carlos starts to ramble after George left.

Sofía just chuckles at him, "It's fine Carlitos, I enjoy hanging out with you. But in order for us to leave this room, could you help with my necklace?"

He scrambled to help her when he realises she's been trying to clasp the silver jewellery together for god knows how long. And he's that close to her neck - where the scent of her perfume is overpowering his senses. He’s focused on the way the dress is hugging her waist, flaring out at the hips- and Sofía catches him staring, a smirk on her face when his eyes meet hers in the mirror.

Get it together Carlos, clasp the damn necklace.

They leave the hotel room together to get to Carlos' Ferrari, and they make it successfully to his car without getting caught by any fans; then taking a short drive to a quaint restaurant Carlos had chosen. They are settled at the back, out of the public's eye, courtesy of the waitresses who were big fans of Formula One.

“I’ll come back shortly to take your orders,” the waitress tells them.

"So..." Sofía sighs, looking up from the menu at Carlos, "I'm sorry about your race."

Carlos lets out a humourless laugh, "it's alright, things happen. We're here to celebrate you!"

"I know, it's just- I feel bad that we're here on a date-"

Carlos smirks at her, and Sofía feels her face start to burn.

"Cariña, don't worry. I'm okay, tonight is all about you, and your first P4 of the season." He looks down at the menu, "enjoy the date."

The food arrives shortly after, and they begin to dig in. Of course Sofía exchanges banter with Carlos as they talk about the race, and how everything had been going for the last two rounds. She laugh and they flirt - albeit subtly, and things seem to go smoothly.

Until Carlos decided to drop the burning question in his mind.

"So you and George?"

Sofía hums in response, pushing around the vegetables she had on her plate.

"Are you guys... yknow? Or have you guys ever?..." He beats around the bush, and Sofía is well aware of what's happening.

Her expression changes, but Carlos couldn't read what it meant. He starts to panic, worried that he might've stepped into uncharted territories.

"You don't have to tell me if you-"

"No no, it's okay. George and I..." Sofía puts her fork down, "well nobody knows this besides maybe my parents, but yeah we've dated. For a couple of months we tried, and obviously with the W series and him struggling in Williams..."

Carlos' face drops, and his mind runs through the million possibilities of 'Sofía and George'.

"At the end of 2021, we didn't expect to be in Mercedes together, but life works in mysterious ways." She shrugs, pushing the plate forwards. Her eyes meet Carlos', and she can see the doubt in his eyes.

"But Carlos," She leans forward, taking his hand in hers, “George and I - we're just friends now. Nothing more than that."

Carlos nods slowly, squeezing her hand in his. And he believes her, or more so he wants to believe her - when he sees the sincerity in her eyes, the way they shine under his gaze.

After a post-dinner stroll to the car, they make their way back to the hotel. It was a miracle they weren't stopped by anyone along the way; and Sofía was thankful that for now - she was somewhat lowkey, not as popular as most drivers on the grid, and she could enjoy a night like this, uninterrupted.

They both get to her floor, and make their way to Sofía's room, Carlos' hand resting on her lower back. It had been like this the entire walk, his hand resting there, a form of protection. She turns, her hands touching his biceps, a soft smile on her face.

This was his chance, to make up for that night, to seal the deal. And Sofía seems to have the same understanding as she leans towards him. Their foreheads are pressed together, and Carlos swears he's never felt his heart beating this hard out of his chest. Now or never.

He dips his head down, and their lips lock. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet full of sparks. He squeezes her hips and Sofía giggles like a child, pulling away.

"Tonight was nice." She whispers.

He pushes her hair behind her ear, "yeah it was,"

"I would love to do this again."

"You would?" He almost sounded surprised, and Sofía nods. A cheeky grin forms on Carlos' face,

"How about we celebrate, after Imola?"

Sofía raises her brows, "Oh, so confident we'd have something to celebrate huh?"

"There's always something to celebrate with you."

Oh boy was he about to be so wrong.

Imola

"You must be fucking kidding me..." She mutters when she passed the chequered flag. She knows this wasn't good, she knows that she'd fucked up when she was behind a Williams she had no recollection of lapping.

Bono’s voice echoes in her ears with bad news, “P13, Sofía. That's P13."

"What the hell happened to the progress we made?!" She slams her hand on the car. Silence follows her outrage.

The radio then crackles, and another voice follows,

"Sofía, it's Toto. I'm really sorry about that drive. Thank you for handling it the way you did."

"Yeah," She sighs, "I really hope we can find something more from this."

"Where did Carlos finish?" She asks Emily as they make their way to the media pen. She had slowed the walk down considerably, knowing the vultures that were ready to pick her apart in that enclosed pen. Emily seemed to understand as well, following Sofia’s pace as they talked and ignored the millions of cameras pointing at them.

"He didn't."

"Second time in a row?"

Emily nods, taking the water bottle from Sofia's hand. She frowns, looking around to see if she could spot him by any luck. But of course, he was no where to be found, and she had to plaster on her million dollar smile for the media.

After fulfilling her duties and a nice cold shower, she makes her way to the Ferrari motorhome, texting Carlos when she arrives outside.

Sofía: hey, wanna talk? I'm outside

Carlos: not now

A man of very few words, she thought.

She sighs, walking back to her own motorhome when another message comes in.

Carlos: i'm sorry. talk when we get back to the hotel, i'll come to yours.

Sofía: nothing to be sorry about, see you then :)

"Sof!" She hears someone call out. Sofía turns to see George jogging towards her. He has a sad smile on his face, slinging his arm around her shoulder for a side hug.

"We'll get 'em next time."

"Yeah, yeah we will." She instinctively wraps her arm around his waist, both of them walking like this back to the motorhome.

"Do you want to grab a quick dinner before we head back?" George asks. Sofia contemplates telling him about her plans, but she doesn't, not wanting to complicate things too early.

"Uh no, I think I'll head back early. I'll get room service."

George raises his brow, “do I need to worry about you wallowing in sadness?”

Sofia laughs sadly, shaking her head, “no you don’t Georgie, don’t worry about me.”

It's not long after Sofía gets back when Carlos knocks on her door.

"Hey," She breathes out, opening the door for him to walk through. He kisses her forehead as he walks in.

"I'm sorry about your race." Carlos starts.

"At least I got to finish." She says sympathetically, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

"You'll get there okay? You and the team." She tells him, her hand resting on top of his.

"I know- can we, can we talk about something else?"

Sofía nods, pulling out the room service menu for the both of them. Carlos picks out the food, while she puts on a film. They've never done this before, but it almost felt natural, the chemistry between them stronger ever since Australia.

Yet, one thing still floats on Carlos' mind - where does he stand? Since that evening, Carlos could not shake it off his mind - finding her and George in the same room all dressed up. Then she easily switches and goes on a date with him.

He knows he should trust her words, but how does the saying go? Actions speak louder than words - and right now her actions are speaking at a higher volume.

Despite all that in his mind, he doesn't bring it up to her, watching the film while room service food was sprawled all over the bed. They eat and enjoy the comfortable silence, the comfort of being together after a long day; until Sofía was passed out on one side of the bed, snoring softly.

Carlos gets up when he realises she was asleep, turning off the TV and placing the empty plates on the table. Then he hears a soft voice,

"Stay."

He pauses, thinking he was hearing it wrong, and proceeded to put the rest of the plates aside. Then he sees Sofía - propped up on the bed with her arms, her hair a standing mess and her eyes barely open,

"Stay here tonight, Carlos."

"I- but," He stumbles over his words, but Sofía just pushes back the covers, and pats the bed.

"Stay with me," She smiles softly. And Carlos obliges, smiling softly at her, slipping under the covers.

taking a bit of a pause on the taglist.. i've been struggling with it for the last few weeks, but i will update it as soon as i have the time!

taglist: @primadonnasdream @dr3lover @chicadelapartamento512-blog @thebagginsofbaggend @starlightoctavia @d0ntjudgemy50shades @cowspew @justthatgirlxox @ggaslyp1 @fromthedeskofjoii @lorenakaspersen @words-4u @o0itsjustme0o @ambrosialilly @totowolfff @gulsolsikke @enjoymyloves @rmaddenns @care2703 @katcontrreras @tattered-tales @luvrboygaslys @piceous21 @shristi-jaluka @kyomihann @sgkophie @jpotterdilf @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @lovingroscoee @monte-carlando

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz junior #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #formula one #lando norris #charles leclerc #george russell

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bleach-your-panties · 6 months

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↬i currently take requests for characters from Bleach, My Hero Academia, Attack on Titan, Haikyuu!!, Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Revengers, Hunter x Hunter, Chainsaw Man, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer) [[now open!!]]

↬check my squad etiquette for characters that I WILL NOT write for.

↬requesting on the blog is FREE, but keep in mind that i now also take commissions.

the tip button is active on my page if you're feeling generous and really enjoyed one of my works. i also have a kofi page (check under 'explore your new squad' header)

↬request any character(s) you want. refer to previous bullets for characters i will not write at all, but if there's a question about if i will or can write for a character, just message me or leave an ask.

↬yes, i age up characters. got an issue? find the block button. they're fucking cartoons.

↬do not come into my inbox with discourse involving aged-up characters. if you made it that far, you must've seen something you liked.

i am an adult, i can tell the differences between promoting blatant ch*ld abuse/child expl*itation, and fiction writing. dark content included.

if you felt that something i wrote was offensive to a particular person, entity, or group, please bring it to me RESPECTFULLY and we can discuss.

↬when i begin to add other fandoms, it'll be announced on the blog, always.

↬i can write SFW, N/SFW, smut, fluff, crack, angst, horror, dark content, psychological, headcanons, thirsts, drabbles, songfics, and full-length fics.

‼️DO NOT LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON MY N/SFW & DARK CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, A BLANK BLOG, AN AGELESS BLOG, or a "MEME" BLOG. I WILL BLOCK YOU‼️

↬from here on out, 2/26/2024, minors may not at any time interact with my works. THIS IS A FIRM RULE. WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE OF AGE.

i am not anybody's damn role model or parent on here, nor am i responsible for what types of content your children are consuming.

↬if you're a minor, ageless, blank, meme blog or you never share or comment on my works, do not ask me when fics are coming out or for a part 2. be glad you got part 1.

↬i do FxM smut pairings only for now; i've attempted others in the past but they're not my strong suit, so it may only be limited to headcanons or thirsts if I attempt it. I could possibly do FxMxF and MxFxM upon request. Depends on my inspiration for the request (which depends on you!) i think I'd like to try writing from a male reader's perspective as well. i currently do not write transgender readers, as i have little experience writing for those types of readers, and i doubt i'd be very good at it. i can try my hand at writing gender-neutral/afab readers if requested. i've kinda done it a little in the past, and i am always trying to improve my writing skills.

↬requests for female characters may only be limited to fluff, crack, SFW, angst, headcanons, thirsts, etc., for now. Headcanons and thirsts can be N/SFW.

↬characterxreader pairings only. i will write threesomes, gangbangs, etc but there must be a reader involved somewhere. i also write black!readers and will write poc!readers.

↬request as many times as you want, but please be aware that they may not all get written.

↬i write best when I have a clear picture in my head, so please give lots of details about what you want.

↬don't be shy, I won't bite your head off if you ask me a question about a pairing, characters, or any of the above rules.

↬please don't rush me or continually ask when your request will be completed. It depends on my time, motivation, and will to write. Writing can be hard and I'm a perfectionist, so I won't submit half-assed work.

↬requests that i choose to write are completely at my discretion. if i feel like i cannot write it, i will either let you know and we can possibly modify it, or i will just delete it altogether. i will not force myself to write something that makes me uncomfortable or that i have no inspiration for.

↬if you are always requesting but won't leave me one measly comment, i will delete any future requests from you. these take time for me to write, so please show that you at least read it all the way through.

↬MOST IMPORTANTLY: DO NOT STEAL MY SHIT. I WRITE ALL OF THIS SHIT BY MYSELF.

↬my ask box is open and will remain open until otherwise stated.

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↬don't think too hard about it! can't wait to hear from you! 🤍🤍

#ask box open #ask box #ask me stuff #ask me questions #ask box always open #💗💗🍡°ask box #byp🌹#byp 🌹pinned post #byp🌹navigation page #❄️squad protocol⋱❥

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abuddyforeveryseason · 13 days

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Don't look, Marion! It's the Buddy for April 12th! It's a gif! It's beautiful...

Today's Buddy was based on that famous scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, the bane of VCR rewind buttons everywhere, where the bad guy's face melts off.

That must've been a fun special effect to pull off. And I know I say a lot of movies are the best movie of all times, but, seriously, Raiders is the best movie of all times, right?

Spielberg and Lucas wanted to make a James Bond movie, but they were chased off into the sunset, so they decided to make their own version - a much cooler adventurer, not tied to those british spy novels and silly penguin suits.

A lot of people say a movie like the Indiana Jones series couldn't be made today. I mean, not another Indiana Jones movie, there's probably another sequel on the way. But giving a guy the equivalent of 1981's 20 million bucks to make an original movie, not based on IP, just an idea the dude had.

I don't know about that - after all, Rebel Moon just came out, and that movie shares a similar background to Raiders - famous director wanting to make a movie that's part of a famous franchise, gets rejected, makes his own edgier and pulpier version.

Sure, it sucked, but, still, it got done.

I don't really agree with a lot of the public discourse about modern movies. Probably because I'm very optimistic about popular movies. People complain about franchises and IP, but, I don't think it's a bad thing. Or at least, not necessarily a bad thing.

A good example is the best movie of all times, Eternals. It's a Marvel movie, yeah. But it's about obscure characters, and it allowed a auteur director to make an actual big-budget movie for a chance, something she'd never have a chance to do without Marvel's help. And it's an interesting story - the original comics were an interesting story too, despite their clumsy flaws.

Yet, everybody hated it. Especially people who never heard about those nobodies before - they were the ones complaining about the lack of new ideas in Hollywood. So that was the beginning of the end for Marvel.

I still think a lot of the criticism wasn't about the movie itself, but about Zhao choosing to "sell out" and make a sci fi movie, and a Marvel one at that.

Thankfully, it'll never happen again.

But, I don't know if we'll get a movie as good as Raiders again. It's a different world. And, I don't know, in a way, we don't need it. Kids can just watch Raiders instead of some director having to reinvent the wheel for a new generation. I don't get why every era needs to have its Star Wars, anyway. I mean, I do get it, it's because there's money in making new movies, even if they're just rehashes.

I read something online about the dangers of nostalgia, of people being obsessed with their youth. It ends up making their bitter towards the present day, it turns toxic. And it's easy to exploit - just keep shoveling out remakes, reboots, adaptations of the crap they loved when they were kids, and they'll keep buying. Suckers.

There are people like that (and a lot of them), yeah, but there are different issues to consider, too. One idea that a lot of people agree with is, a person's never too old to enjoy kids' stuff. We keep getting angry about adults enjoying cartoons, but, what's the harm, really? And yet, that can turn toxic too - a lot of douchebag complaining about "wokeness" in cartoons is the dark reflection of a refusal to grow up. As is the creepy obsession with sexualizing kids' cartoons.

Sometimes, it's better to accept that you're too old to enjoy something that wasn't made for you. It's better than to force it into that slot. Let the kids have their thing.

Despite all that, though, I still like some kiddy stuff, although I appreciate it in different levels. And I did like Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. Old Indiana Jones was fun, it felt almost like a movie version of Mr. Mustachio from Osamu Tezuka stories.

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cyberslam · 2 years

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baby, don't deny what your poor heart needs

trans! 1-2-3 Kid/Razor Ramon

hi! On my bullshit again but god I've got Kid/Razor on the mind and I wanted to write something purely self indulgent between commissions. So here's some absolutely dripping in personally inspired trans narrative Kid.

Anyway I got to talking with Scotty and we talked about how getting your first suit as a trans man is such a big thing, and I thought it'd be sweet if Razor bought Kid his first suit.

I have a whole list in my head of headcanons for this version of Kid I may or may not post?

Also loosely related to Xentex's lovely standalone fic for his trans Diesel muse.

TWs:

needles/injections in the first part, nothing descriptive, internalized and mentioned transphobia, NSFW content.

[Ao3 Link]

Kid was laid flat on his stomach on the cushy hotel bed as he watched Razor tapping away air bubbles from the syringe in his hands. Ever since he began running with the Cuban, he insisted on doing Kid's t-shots for him. He had said it was something nostalgic for him. Kid was a little annoyed at first, but he was quick to relent given that Razor was a hell of a lot better at injecting him than he was. It sucked to have to do his shots in his thighs, and having to wrestle right after usually would put him in a ton of pain.

Instead, having the shot done by his hip was just more comfortable.

"What're you wearing to the charity dinner?" Kid asked, smushing his cheek against the pillow he was resting on as he caught Razor's eye.

"Eh, maybe just gonna throw a white suit over the usual on and call it a day." Razor shrugged. He was already replacing the needle. Kid didn't know how Razor had it all memorized. It basically took him half an hour to get through all the steps, having to consult the worn out instructions sheet he kept with the vials. Sure Razor had a good memory, but he did it with so much ease.

"Man, even you're wearing a suit?" He pouted. He'd basically asked every wrestler what they'd be wearing at this point. Shawn was gonna be in a suit, Diesel was going to be doing just a button up with a sportcoat, hell even the Bushwhackers had suits! Kid didn't even own a button up. Most events Vince made them do were casual enough he could get away with a t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. But this one was all fancy, way more formal and stiff than anything Kid had attended. The last time he wore a suit must've been…never. He frowned more, realizing he'd never owned a suit.

Razor ruffled his hair, taking him out of his thoughts as the taller man rounded the bed. He pulled Kid's waistband down, wiping the injection site down with an alcohol pad.

"What, you're not?" Razor asked, waving his hand over the alcohol to dry it off.

"I don't have a suit, Raze. Never did. Always had to wear dresses to big stuff." Kid sighed. He couldn't help the way it made him feel. His mom had always spent so much on those dresses, he never had the heart to tell her he didn't want to wear them. He knew how important having a daughter was to her; for a long time he was worried he'd just break her heart so he kept quiet.

He was thankful puberty never hit him too hard, though. A loose enough shirt usually got the job done to hide his body.

Kid came out to his mom when he first broke into wrestling. He couldn't make himself wrestle the women's division, or in any women's promotion. His mom had struggled with it. They fought. He moved in with his grandparents who were somehow more understanding.

The King had helped him out a ton, too. He owed him for being the reason he got to wrestle in the men's divisions.

"Ready?" Razor's voice brought him out of the past. He nodded, the slight sting hitting him as Razor pushed the needle through the skin he held taut. "So you never had a suit? Never been fitted for one?"

Kid shook his head as Razor pulled his hand away, depressing the plunger. "Never Raze. Makes me kinda nervous, going to buy a suit. I mean I can get one off the rack at Macy's or something I guess, but I can only afford the discount stuff and all that's too big on me. I'll look like a kid playing in his dad's clothes."

"Then get one tailored, chico."

"I don't think I need to tell you why that makes me nervous." Kid scoffed, rolling his eyes as Razor pulled the needle out, replacing it with an alcohol pad held gently against his skin. "Like, y'know what if they take inseams and they like…notice."

"If you pack they won't." Razor took care of disposal as he spoke, gently pulling Kid's waistband up.

"I don't know man…you know I usually don't anyway.

"Oyame, chico. I'll take you to my tailor. He won't say shit to you, he made suits for Vinnie. Does suits for dykes too. I'll explain it to him, okay?" Sharps disposed, Razor sat on the edge of the bed with a smile as he looked down at Kid.

The young man wouldn't admit it to his face, but he loved when Razor actually smiled. Not that slimy smirk of his, but a real smile. He couldn't help himself from smiling back.

"Alright Raze, but I don't know if I can afford that."

That got him a smack to the back of the head.

"The fuck you think I am? I'm gonna make you pay for this? It's a gift, niño. From me. You wear that shit and if anyone asks, you tell them Razor Ramon got it for you, got it?" He had pulled the toothpick from his mouth, pointing it at Kid as he spoke, making him laugh.

"Yeah I hear you big man. Mr. Ramon so kindly bought me my suit."

"Damn straight." He leaned down, pushing Kid's curls back as he placed a kiss to his forehead. Kid stuck his tongue out in response, before sighing.

"Thanks Raze."

"You're running with me. That means you get the best, or nothing." Razor patted him on the back, "we'll go tomorrow, all right?"

"Alright. You're the boss, Mr. Ramon."

"Damn right I am."

—

Razor managed to pull off a pretty comfortable experience for Kid's first time getting fit for a suit. Measurements weren't any different from when he would get fitted for wrestling gear, there was just a lot more to measure. Thankfully, his tailor offered private rooms so Kid didn't have to deal with any of the anxiety provided by someone potentially walking in.

He also couldn't deny the way it made him feel a lot more like a man to even go through the experience of getting fitted.

To save time, they had picked out a premade suit to be altered, given the charity dinner was that weekend. Razor had been pretty upset he couldn't pay for a suit to be made for Kid, but Kid reasoned that he didn't even need to wear them all that often in the first place.

Come Friday morning, the suit was ready.

Razor had picked it out, not that Kid had a problem with that. It was navy, with a black trim on the inside. According to the big man himself, he chose it because cool colors suited Kid more than blacks or anything warm.

For the most part, Kid had no idea what Razor would be going on about so he just nodded along and agreed.

Still, trying it on was something different. Razor had pretty much picked out everything else: the dress shirt, shoes, tie, belt…

“I’m worried I’m going to look stupid.” Kid was frowning as Razor was tying his tie for him.

“Ay niño, you look handsome. You look like the man you are.” The taller man chided him, speaking with a cigar in his mouth as he tightened the tie up to his neck. “That comfortable?”

Being called handsome by Razor of all people always made Kid’s chest swell with joy. “You really think so?”

“Don’t be stupid. The fuck would I lie to you for?”

Kid grinned as he was scolded, putting on the coat jacket as it was handed to him.

“There’s three buttons, you just button the top two.”

“Got it, boss.” Kid rolled his eyes, secretly appreciative of how much Razor gave instruction. If it wasn’t for him, he’d end up going to the dinner looking like he rolled in right off the street and Vince would’ve had his head for it. Slim fingers worked on the buttons before straightening the jacket out. He had to admit, it was a lot more comfortable than he expected. There was something nice about having the layer of the jacket to hide any awkward bumps the dress shirt wouldn’t.

“Alright. Now that’s a handsome guy. Turn around.” Razor was grinning at him pulling his cigar out of his mouth as he looked down at Kid. With one hand, he gently turned Kid around to face himself in the mirror.

Kid normally tried not to let his emotions really get to him in any big way, but this time he couldn’t help it. There was just a prick of tears in his eyes as he looked himself over in the full body mirror. Head to toe, he looked like he actually belonged in men’s formal wear. The pants gave enough of a drop near his crotch he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable even if he did pack, the jacket drew away from his chest and gave him a boxier looking frame instead of emphasizing how petite his body usually looked. Even his shoes didn’t look too small. He couldn’t help but smile as he checked himself out in the mirror.

“That’s not all. Here.” Razor pulled a small box out of his pocket, giving it to Kid. “Open it, c’mon.”

“Geez man, just like wait a second.” Kid huffed, pulling the golden cover off of the small box. Inside was some actual gold; two gold cufflinks and a chain. He was stunned, mouth slightly agape as he looked down at the gift and then at Razor.

“It’s real gold, chico. We’ll have matching cufflinks. And I figured you can wear the chain with just the shirt sometimes. When I take you out, I mean. You’ve been rolling with me this long. I can't have you without at least some gold, yeah?” Razor looked real proud, moving closer to Kid, pulling the cufflinks out of the box and affixing them to the ends of the sleeves of the jacket.

“Raze, this is too much isn’t it?”

“What, you stole my money and now you’re too good for my gold, huh? This shit is as real as it gets, chico.”

“Okay you like, already got over that. And I mean, this is different. You bought this for me. This must’ve been expensive.”

Razor took a puff of his cigar before he pointed it at Kid. “Nothing is too expensive for Razor Ramon, comprende?”

Kid huffed, before grinning. “Only because it’s you Raze, am I even worried that you spent money like this on me. I’d be out the door with anyone else.” He looked at the cufflinks, admiring the way they complimented the deep blue of the jacket.

Razor just shook his head in response as Kid looked himself over again in the mirror.

“I almost don’t want to take it off.”

"Mm. I can help you with that niño."

Kid watched as Razor put the cigar out in the ash tray. The larger man stepped in closer, pressing himself flush against Kid's back. He rested his chin on Kid's left shoulder, clearly scheming something.

Kid watched the two of them in the mirror. For once he didn't feel like he was fighting to look like a man, especially next to Razor. Not that anyone said shit to him ever since they started rolling together. Anytime some jobber even whispered that Kid looked "girly" in the locker room, they'd suspiciously have some injury and never end up on any of the shows.

Razor's rough hands began wandering around Kid's body, undoing his belt buckle as he watched the reaction of the younger man. Kid squirmed, feeling his face get hot.

"Razor…" He huffed, watching his belt being tossed aside as his dress shirt got pulled out. His coat jacket was pulled off next, laid gently on the ottoman to their side, and Kid wasn't sure if he wanted to be transfixed on the image in front of him or look away. "I can undress myself, c'mon. You know I don't like looking at myself like this."

"Kid." Razor's voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname made the slimmer man stand up a bit straighter. "You look so fucking handsome. C'mon, look." He grabbed Kid's face, turning him towards the mirror.

Kid's eyes met with his own, struggling to face the feelings stirring inside him. His eyes wandered down as Razor's deft hands undid his buttons, one at a time. Exposing skin. Before he undid the last few buttons, Razor slipped a hand in to cup his chest, calloused fingers rubbing at his nipple. Kid bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he looked away. Quickly, a rough hand turned his face to the mirror.

"Don't look away." It was a command.

The reflection was uncomfortable. His clothes were the only thing that made people see him as a man. Some days he didn't mind looking at himself. Hell, usually he didn't, but it wasn't like he spent time checking himself out in the mirror naked.

Kid watched his flushed face, the way he kept biting his lip, the lazy but hungry look in Razor's eyes as he fondled him. He kissed up Kid's neck, sending shivers down his spine. Wet, sloppy kisses to his ear made his knees nearly give out.

"You look so handsome, niño." He was practically purring into his ear. That low, rumbly voice was made of wet dreams.

"I look–"

Always a little dramatic, Razor pulled the dress shirt apart, fully exposing his torso. "Like a man."

The shirt was discarded as Kid looked on at himself. The way his chest curved. Razor grabbed at each pec, squeezing them, playing with him. Kid whined, leaning back against the broad chest behind him.

"Remember what I told you. If anyone tells you you ain't a man, you come to me?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"That counts for you too. Cause you've got more machismo than half the guys we work with. This chest? This face? These hips? All a man's." With each body part, Razor put his hands there and gave a squeeze.

Kid was happy he wasn't prone to tears, because he'd be crying just about now. He knew he was a guy. A man. Not just some boy. And he knew his body was a man's body, but being around a bunch of cis guys who were bigger than he'd ever be, comfortable being nearly naked in a way he'd never be; it would give him some pause sometimes. Maybe Razor noticed. Maybe he saw how Kid had been lately and knew he needed his.

"Alright don't get a big head about." There was that smack to the back of the head to ground him. He shot Razor a nasty look, getting a slimy grin in return. "Sit."

He was gently pushed back onto the chaise chair, until he sat down on it.

Razor kneeled in front of him in a sight that Kid wished he could take a photo of. He watched as the man at his feet undid the laces on the oxfords, slipping them off his feet and placing them to the side. He lifted Kid's heel up to his mouth, kissing his ankle.

Kid wanted to squirm at the sensation. He held his breath watching Razor, who looked up at him and gave him a wink. He pulled the dress socks off before moving up, kissing at Kid's thighs through the fabric of the pants. His hands snaked up the outside of Kid's thighs until he was grabbing a handful of his ass, kneading his fingers into it.

His lips made it up to Kid's stomach, before kissing back down to his happy trail. His hands slid around to undo the fly as he looked right at Kid. Razor pulled his pants down, until they were completely off, and laid them next to where Kid sat.

The Cuban firmly pressed his lips to Kid's crotch, eliciting some small moans from him. His fingers snuck into the waist band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose Kid fully. Razor tasted how wet he was, his tongue licking through his folds and up to his clit before sucking on it.

Kid couldn't keep himself from moaning then. He panted, Razor working him up quickly. His hand found it's way to that slicked back, curly hair as he pulled Razor forward. It didn't take long for Razor to make him come, fucking him with his tongue and sucking him off like he was.

Climax overwhelming him, he tried to wriggle away from the overstimulation but strong arms kept him in place. Kid bit down on his own hand to keep himself from nearly screaming. He collapsed backwards, feeling his muscles twitching as they tried to relax, not even noticing that Razor had pulled his boxers back up.

Breathing slowly, Kid slowly sat up. He didn't know when Razor had grabbed his cigar and relit it, but he sure had.

"Gotta say of all the guys I've given head to, you're my favorite." Razor teased him, taking a puff of his cigar before blowing the smoke in Kid's face.

The smaller man frowned as he waved the smoke away. "Oh shut up."

He stared down at his legs for a moment.

"Thanks Razor."

"No problem niño." Razor ruffled his curly hair, before stepping away. "Get dressed, let's get outta here."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ramon."

#d is writing #razor ramon #123 kid #the 123 kid #wwf #wwf fic #this was probably the quickest ive written a fic to be posted in a while!#trans!123 kid

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weight-of-the-law · 3 months

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Gina absolutely lost it as she watched Sae shove her face into the cake like that. Oh, that was too much. She would never have expected Sae to just do that... on the first experience, no less! Usually, it took much more time for people to give in, but here she was.

"You know, you're something else. I've had fun with plenty of people, but you're the first to just give in like this. I mean, shoving your face right in there... I'm very impressed." Of course, her hands were moving around Sae's new body too, massaging flesh where her hands found it, as though kneading dough and somehow knowing exactly where the fat would appear next.

Although, soon enough, she really would be naked. Her clothes couldn't possibly hold up much longer.

Sae was desperately trying to ignore Gina right now, if she really thought about what she was doing, she'd probably freak out, but right now she had to focus more on just making the most of this situation. If that meant demeaning herself in front of a stranger than so be it honestly. Feeling Gina's hands come in and start massaging her though, that made ignoring her rather difficult. Still though, she couldn't pay attention to all of that, she had to keep eating. Her blouse was the first to give up the fight, the remaining buttons scattering across the floor and rolling like loose change as her gut now hung free, swinging wildly as she scarfed down more cake.

It wouldn't be long until more of her clothing failed to withstand the avalanche of soft flab pouring off of her body, her pants ripping themselves to shreds around her on the ground, shortly followed by her blouse and jacket doing the same. She'd eventually be left in just her bra and panties, though it was clear both of those were hanging on by a thread. She was becoming so absorbing in her eating, that she wasn't even noticing her belly was now pressed firmly against the ground beneath her, helping prop her up.

"S-shut up this i-isn't to impress you... If anything it's too uhm, spite you... you must've done something to make me act like this! I'll figure it out... eventually."

Just speaking too long was leaving her winded now, and of course she'd had have to struggle to manage to fit her words in between her monstrous bites.

#saes practice

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

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Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Welcome to the last phase -Danny

Words: 1,615

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Phase // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘All These Things I’ve Done’ -by The Killers

i: The Ticking Stops

"Oh my god!"

"Kate, calm down—"

"Why is that counting down? And why is it only ten minutes long?!"

"It's okay!" Cat raised her voice, her ears were still buzzing. She tried to use her powers, but they were unresponsive. "Oh, shit."

Spider-man tensed. "What?"

Something cold slipped down Cat's back. "My inhibitor's been activated again."

"Then turn it off," Kate turned to Spidey. "Turn it off!"

Kurt coughed, he tried to get up but he fell, he was severely malnourished and beaten. They needed to get him treated as soon as possible.

"What's that noise?" He mumbled.

The use of his powers in such a weak state drained him for the rest of the night. Probably the rest of the week. Cat picked up her beeper and stared at it without knowing what to do.

"C..." Peter's voice was getting higher. "It doesn't turn off!"

"They must've made a backup... those assholes may be animals, but they have brains—"

"Cat if we don't do something, you're going to blow up the whole building, including us!" Kate urged her. "Think!"

Cat could feel their wide-eye gazes, and her body reacted before she could think it through. Peter's senses seemed to catch up, cause he tried to reach out for her at the last second.

"Don't—!"

The mutant kicked him away and got up, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction with the young man closely following behind. Kate screamed at her, but she wasn't running, the archer had stayed to help Kurt, and she hoped Spider-man could handle Copycat alone.

Peter tackled her, and Cat fought to get out of his grip. She realized then that they were on Midtown High's rooftop.

"STOP FOLLOWING ME!"

She snatched E.D.I.T.H. out of his face with one hand and punched his nose with the other, the hero lost balance and Cat crawled away from him. Back on her feet, she slid down the emergency ladder, jumping off and landing on the grass. She then put on the Stark glasses.

"Hi, C.C."

"Hi, babe," she panted, still running. "Russo's location?"

A map appeared in the lenses only for her to see, she could hear Spider-man still chasing her. Russo was moving fast, he was far, if only she could be faster... if she could have her powers back for just a second...

"Stop trying to die!" Peter said, swinging from a building.

"I promise this is the last time!" She yelled, rounding up a corner.

The beeper was still firmly in her hand, and it was making strange choppy static noises. Cat pressed the comm button and spoke close to the artefact.

"Hi, Webs three!" She stumbled but quickly gathered herself up. "If you're hearing this—" a big piece of junk flew over her head, she glanced over her shoulder. "Stop throwing stuff at me!" Cat turned back ahead, running straight to an open street. "Anyway, Parker, go back to your universe—!"

The collar was triggered and an electric shock made her lose her footing. She'd crossed the street without paying attention, and if Harley had seen her, he would've yelled "I told you so". A truck was about to run her over, Cat closed her eyes out of instinct...

Spider-man lifted her up just in time, he wrapped his arm firmly around her middle and she wrapped her legs around his hips, now he was swinging them forward following the street below. Cat gasped for air, and the cold filled her lungs without M.O.U.S.E. there to protect her.

"Listen!" She shouted, opening her eyes little by little so the air didn't hit them abruptly as well. Spider-man's logo was the first thing she came face to face with. "Peter..." she froze. That was spider-man's logo, just not the one from her world. Cat looked up with her mouth wide open. "Parker!"

The young man had his attention elsewhere. "Am I trippin' or is my other self chasing after you with a brick in his hand?"

The Stark glasses began to make noise, they were approaching her target. Russo's car was right ahead. "Let go."

"What?"

"Drop me!"

She hit him on the stomach, Parker loosened his grip but he was fast to seize her wrist just as quickly before she could fall any further. Cat hissed and scratched his forearm as hard as she could with her free hand. Parker yelped but he didn't release her, he kept swinging, and now they were right above Billy's car and about to leave it behind. She searched in her boots and found a pocket knife.

"I'm sorry!"

She stabbed his hand. Spidey let go of her shouting.

"Motherff—!"

Cat didn't hear the rest, she fell on the roof of a taxi.

"Jesus!" She grunted.

Cat pushed herself up with difficulty and looked around, tightly holding onto the top of the moving vehicle. E.D.I.T.H. guided her attention to a limousine a few cars ahead. The taxi driver was yelling, she'd ruined his car but she didn't have time or interest in apologizing.

The mutant jumped from one moving car to another, her knee pulsed horribly but she did her best to ignore it. One of Russo's men pointed their gun at her, but she threw the knife before he could shoot, stabbing him in the forehead.

Copycat reached the black vehicle and looked upside down through the passenger seat, she pulled the man's body out the window to have a clear view, she'd run out of weapons, but she was so angry that it didn't matter. She hated when things didn't go the way she wanted them to. Even more, if it was a man's fault.

"What's up!" Cat said in a wildly invigorated voice, stealing the corpse's gun.

Her collar got activated a second time. Cat pushed herself up on time even though she could barely control her twitching muscles, a blast of bullets missed her by only a few inches, and a piece of her hair was cut clean by one of the projectiles, she watched it fly away in the frigid wind.

The mutant entered feet first through the car's window, Cat bent a little and used the man's gun to shoot at the other two companions on each side of Russo. Once she was seated, she shot the driver in the head, before he could pull out his weapon.

They started to move erratically, Cat shot at the windshield and kicked it out of the way. She crawled up on the headboard to get out but a bullet grazed her thigh, and another one went past her ear.

"Fine! I'll stay a bit longer!" She huffed, pointing her gun at Russo.

He didn't try to shoot again, Cat was in a terrible mood: Kraven wasn't there.

"You didn't think I'd go without saying goodbye, right?"

She raised her voice so he could hear her above the traffic noises. Cat kept the steering wheel steady so they didn't crash yet. Billy was pale, and the scars on his face had never looked as red and bulky as now.

"You have one minute left," he announced, trying to look unbothered. "Is this really how you wish to end things?"

"Yeah, not a big deal."

Russo smiled at something over her shoulder, and she frowned.

"I'll tell your friends you said hi," he said.

The roaring of an engine startled her, the mutant looked back in the direction Billy had been staring at a second before: Kraven was riding a large motorcycle a few spots ahead, and he was pointing at Cat with her own spear. He threw it so fast she could only see a swirl of colors as it flew through the traffic.

"CAT!"

Parker picked her up a second time, saving her from getting impaled. Her inhibitor started blinking repeatedly, beeping so loudly it was wounding her already hurting eardrums.

Sparks started to come out from around her, for a brief second she had the impression the explosion had somehow come from outside, given that she could still see Spider-man in the middle of the cloud of fire and dust... but that wasn't a normal explosion.

A blur of colors and noises confused her. Parker held onto her tighter, she could no longer tell which way was down and which was up. There was no skyline, suddenly everything took form again and Cat was thrown out of the young man's embrace.

She rolled across the street in a haze, she wasn't in pain, which is what one would expect after blowing up. In alarm, she got up and ran away from the busy street, Parker shouted at her to come back but she didn't listen.

"Where are we, Edith?" She asked, but the glasses didn't reply to her.

She spotted the Brooklyn bridge ahead and Cat kept on running, not even stopping to consider she wasn't so close to that area a second ago. Russo was out of sight and so was Kraven, at least she could try and get away from the city so no one could get hurt by the explosion.

Out of desperation, Cat tried to teleport forgetting she couldn't... and it worked.

She slipped and put her hands forward to stop her face from meeting the pavement, Cat saw her claws come out as she landed. Slowly, she reached up and seized the collar around her throat, pulling as hard as she could. The inhibitor broke in two, no longer making noises.

Cat looked around, the cars had slightly altered designs than the ones she would usually see in her city. The mutant teleported again to a random street and walked deeper into town. There was no sight of hero propaganda.

Where the Stark tower had been for more years than she could remember, was now a tall, dark building. Cat took off the E.D.I.T.H. glasses with a horror-struck gaze. A logo could be seen at the very top, right in between two pointy ends resembling cat ears... or a goblin's:

OSCORP

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic #marvel original character

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callme6olet · 1 year

Text

The Neon Glow

The struggle with cyberpunk is that it's supposed to be punk, but it's also all too real. The days of Neuromancer and Johnny Mnemonic are behind us. The idea of the sci-fi corporate supercity, this neon-limned sprawl of concrete, vice, and pollution no longer seems like a frighteningly possible dystopia, but like an exaggerated reality. At its inception, cyberpunk existed in a liminal state between the primary and secondary worlds. These stories were ostensibly set on a futuristic Earth, but there was a sense that it was an alternate future, that these worlds were a warning about something that only had the slimmest possibility of really happening. They read like secondary worlds in the same way that Middle Earth reads as a secondary world: familiar in its bones, in its soul, but not in its details. The fact that that gap is closing, that we're watching those prophecies unfold, is at the heart of the current generation of post-cyberpunk fiction. Gibson's Agency, Stephenson's Termination Shock. Matrix: Resurrections. These stories deal not only with the dread of capitalism's brutal advance, but also (in my opinion) with the writers' mixed feelings over having predicted it, over creating a vision and aesthetic so powerful that our world is actually changing--purposefully--to match it. Just look at the MetaVerse. A Stephenson invention, now marketed as a reality, like that's supposed to be exciting.

This is a problem for me, because I love writing cyberpunk. I stumbled onto The Matrix in middle school, but it didn't sink its teeth in until I came across Shadowrun 4th Edition at Borders. Here was a world that felt lived in, in much the same way that the original Star Wars must've wowed people in the 70's. Arguably, Star Wars and cyberpunk both fit into the classic definition of the latter: high tech, low life. Luke is a farmer; Han's a drug trafficker. And while Star Wars is and will remain my all-time favorite, the cyberpunk genre brought an edge with it, something that grabbed hold of me, hit the dopamine button in my brain: the neon glow. Holograms and flickering advertisements in a rainy night. Smog dyeing the sunset crimson and purple. LEDs glowing from every nook and cranny.

And now, your average gamer's battlestation looks like something out of Bladerunner. And part of me rebels against that: do we not realize that we're losing? We're a couple short steps away from corporate citizenship, for god's sake.

That sense of doubt, that itch, pokes at me when I'm writing and find myself describing more of the same. It made me feel sick watching Edgerunners. The idea of losing your family to random violence because you don't make enough for health insurance isn't fiction--so why is this show dressing it up like it is? Like that's just as outlandish as a thousand-foot holo ad, a street tough with mantis blades in her arms? Did the showrunners not know what they were doing, somehow? Were they just jumping into this genre because they read Neuromancer once, thought it was such a wacky idea?

But then--oh-so-late to the party--I started playing 2077. I rebelled against it at first, felt the same itch, the same existential dread. But then the story revved into overdrive, and all at once, I realized: this here, it's the classic example of tropes done right. The world might be forty years old, but it's flawlessly realized. And, more than that, it is aware of the genre it exists in, of the evolution. There's something about the game that makes me want to be V, to live in a world where you have to carry an SMG to leave the apartment. To live loud. Even a month ago, I would've said it's the feeling of agency, the idea that, in a world of violent conflict, each person is more able to make a large-scale impact. But I don't think that's it, not really. Night City crushes you, makes even the most outrageous victories seem short-lived, insignificant blips against the weight of the world.

The moments that shine out aren't the big ones, they're the small ones. Seeing Mama Welles at the wake. A visit from a stray cat. Going to the ripperdoc and seeing the option to change appearance, because in that world, it's just that easy, and all of a sudden, I can be seeing a face I like in the mirror.

And here's the crazy thing: part of this reality we've stumbled into, this pseudo-cyberpunk corporatocracy, is the fact that's it's almost that easy to switch bodies here, too. We're getting there. There is beauty in all things, even the dark ones. There is beauty, too, in the impetuous, borderline-nihilism of an edgerunner, in the willigness to engage in hopeless rebellion. And there is a beauty in neon lights.

The meaning of the word punk hasn't changed, never will, but its expression has. In the 80's, it meant drinking and smoking because Mom and Dad said not to. Now, what gives me hope is going to punk shows in underground venues and seeing drug-free youth graffitied across the PA. It's realizing that rebellion changes as society changes. That, even though we might live in a dystopia, that dystopia will never choke out the beauty of our reality. So, I'm keeping the mirrored shades; I'm switching the LED strips back on; and I'm going to keep writing about cities bathed in the neon glow.

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #termination shock #neal stephenson #william gibson #writing #sci fi

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jazzstarrlight · 2 years

Text

Curtisson & Toppat-Neo Part.2

I shuffled up the driveway slowly as voices played in my head like flashbacks "The chief and right hand… I… I failed them all." "Welcome Back, Svensson." "Let's run away. Forget the Toppat's. Forget the Topcaps and your revenge!"

Making my way through the silent café; already locked up for the night, "It's Sven! Sven Svensson! Leader of the Toppat clan! The Toppat's you sent to the wall!" "I may be Swedish, but I'll whoop your ass like a Russian spy!" "And two, with a push of this button, I can blow your head SKY HIGH!"

And finally, taking off my shoes in front of the kitchen archway by the apartment entrance, "The heart of a man is more fragile than it looks."

My clothes feel heavy and wet with dark red stains. I think my arm is bleeding but I don't feel any pain. I don't feel anything. I was asked to do something unspeakable. Something that Toppats are supposed to avoid at all costs; not make it a mission! I protested this mission shouldn't even exist but Carol-I mean-Sir threatened to power up 'Burts new accessory' as she put it.

I just finished assassinating 5 government officials within 24 hours. Do I dare tell Burt? This is too much.

"Sven?" Burt came out of the bedroom, peering into my hollow eyes as I steadily regained consciousness. "My god, what happened to you!? Your clothes…"

He didn't finish before I fell into his arms, breaking down.

Sometime later, I had changed into comfortable and not-so-bloody clothes as Burt wrapped my wounds in gauze. I lightly sip my tea, after calming down.

Burt finished first aid and sat back with a hard sigh. "How are you feeling now? Willing to talk about your mission?" I stayed silent, gripping my cup tighter. "Alright. I won't force you if you're not ready to talk about it. Must've been one heck of a heist. It's ok, sunflower. Take your time."

He leaned me onto his shoulder, with a clear view of the shock collar. "I'm sorry."

"Hmn?" His neck vibrated. "Sorry for what?"

"For… For all of this. We… I should've just moved on as soon as we broke out of the Wall. But now… Now I… you…" I couldn't stop the tears from falling again.

Burt cupped my cheek to lift my head; eye to eye, "Shhhh. Sh, sh, sh, sh. Sven. There's nothing we could've done to stop Carol. She would've found us and pulled the same trick. In that 'what if' we'd be rustier than we are now. I think this is the better timeline."

That's right. "Timelines…" I sit up and start thinking. "What if… What if I get sensitive information to…" all of a sudden I feel queasy from the next words to come out of my mouth. "...to… Stickmin and the Government?"

The shock on Burt's face was not surprising. "You would be a mole!? Betray our friends?!"

"Friends!? They strapped a dog collar to your neck! Burt, Carol has changed. They all changed. The Toppats used to be honorable thieves. But the Neo-Toppats… there's no honour, no dignity, just cold and blood-thirsty eyes. Especially with that Clementine girl. They're all psychopaths or sociopaths…maybe even both!" I noticed myself getting louder and stopped.

Gazing down to my knees, In a hushed tone, "They ordered me to go on a murder spree today. Members of the conservatives. I mean… they deserved it, yes, but… it was a lot of blood."

A few seconds of silence pass and Burt finishes processing my rant. "Didn't you shoot up a school before joining the Toppats?"

An improper chuckle escaped my throat. "It wasn't up close. Face to face. Hearing those scumbags plea for their lives."

Burt pulled me in close. "If you do this, they will kill you."

"I'm aware of how dangerous this is. But it's the only way. We… I have to do something to stop Carol and I think I know just the file to get the Gov't on their feet."

——————————————————————————

The next day, I began leaking files to the Gov't. I first had to steal a copy of some files from the Toppat-Neo's computers and that night printed them off, slipping them into a tan file folder I labelled "BreadCrumbs/TopSecret/Danger."

Now, I have to figure out where would be the best place to drop this?

The Pilot's weekly routine hasn't changed since the time I stalked Triple Threat back in the Topcap days. I easily found him distracted in the chip aisle; mumbling to himself which bag would Henry like. I wore Burt's black hoodie and covered my head, walking passed and slipped the file into his basket, now watching at the end of the aisle.

Charle's P.O.V:

"Hmm. Henry's favourite seems to be sold out. I think he might enjoy the off-brand stuff maybe. We should be saving after all. Yeah, I'll get him the off-brand creamy dill." I reach over to pick up a few bags and turn to place them in my cart, noticing an unusual item on top of the pancake mix. "Hu?" I pick up the folder and open it. Paperclipped items and a sticky note that says "help" sit inside. My eyes widen, "It can't be…" looking around, I confirm that I'm alone and close the file. "The General really needs to see this."

Back to Sven:

I see Calvin rush out the store after purchasing his groceries, with the file in his bag. "It's done." The Gov't now knows the existence of Toppat-Neo. I may go down with them… But please…

Please save him, Henry Stickmin.

To be continued…

#henry stickmin #t3nsion #sven svensson #burt curtis #sven x burt #curtisson & Toppat-Neo

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